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moumouton4 · 7 months

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Just Friends ? || Adrien Agreste x fem!reader

A/n : Prompt 29 of the Smutember 2023 ( Finally one more to go ! I also hate Marinette's character to no end and tried to stay relatively soft here 😂 Also the fact that I live 30 min from Paris and I don't even know any places to sit and have a snack in a garden. Seriously it's so overrated, this place is a shit hole... anyways I hope you'll enjoy ! )

The list of prompts is HERE

Smutember 2023 Masterlist ⚜

Warnings : of course they are all aged up, the relationship is not very established maybe they are dating or friends with benefits, mention of shower graphic shower sex, piano sex ? window sex ?, biting, rough sex, dirty jokes, mention of oral!male receiver, finger, slight exhibitionism, car sex ?, 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Word count : 2045

“The Tuileries’ Garden, Wednesday at 3:00 pm” that was the place and the time, Adrien told you you were going to spend the afternoon at. All his classmates will be there, so it would be a good opportunity to meet everyone. You were told to bring something to eat or drink as you were all going to have a little snack there ( I don’t even know if we’re allowed to settle there to eat lmao ). You took a bag of marshmallows and another one of chips so that - she hoped - everyone could find something they would like.

Sitting in his car you were anxiously waiting to place a face on the names of the people he so often told you about. In the secrecy of the closed doors, his hand held yours, soothingly rubbing circles on the back of your hand. Meeting new people wasn't always easy but damn that was a whole class of 13 people.

“I’m sure they are all going to like you” he tried to reassure you.

“They are going to be quite a lot Adrien” you whispered back, holding his hand tighter.

“Just tell yourself it's back-to-school time” he joked, his humor shining through as he spoke to you, fully comfortable in your presence.

“I hate back-to-school” you whined.

“I know” he chuckled “But I also know you’ll do fine. Come on we’re almost there” he said his excitement breaking through.

You quickly smoothed your hair one last time and took a deep breath as you felt the car coming to a halt. Adrien let go of your hand to grab your shoulder and bring you closer to him, he placed a sweet kiss on your lips. He wanted to savor and bring a bit of your taste with him, knowing that once out the car you’d have to play it cool.

As you finally stepped out of the car, you decided to walk to the place you knew his friends were waiting for you both, keeping a friendly distance between you as you wandered through the gardens. You exchanged a few glances and it was clear in both your eyes that you wanted to hold hands and walk hip to hip, but you had to refrain. He whispered something to you and when you looked in the distance you saw a small gathering of people.

Some were already waving at you and another one, seemingly on rollerblades ( according to the pictures there is gravel on the ground so I don’t even think that she can do that but oh well ) who was zooming in your direction “Hey what’s up newbie ? Doin’ great ? I’m Alix by the way, nice to meet you” she said, extending her hand for you to shake.

As you did you gave her a smile and replying to her “Nice to meet you too, I’m Y/n” you were a lot less tense now, and you hoped everyone would be as nice as Alix seemed to be.

A short while later, you finally managed to reach the small table they had set for everyone to put their snacks on. You set your bags of marshmallow and chips and not even 10 seconds later the 10 people had gathered around you, eager to meet and talk to you. I mean, you were a potential new friend. Well there still were 2 people that seemed to care about something else, well rather someone else. One, you recognized easily to be Chloé Bourgeois, the mayor’s daughter and there other… erm- no she didn’t ring any bell.

From the corner of your eyes you could see Adrien who was smiling fondly at you, he was very happy and proud that you mingled that easily with his friends. You took a lollipop from a bowl which was set on the table and put it into your mouth, humming approvingly at the sugary taste of the fruity candy.

Adrien’s eyes were locked on your every move. Did you know that you were teasing him at this very moment ? That you were torturing him as you savored the candy ? He subconsciously made his way towards you - keeping his distance - making the blond girl from earlier whine and scream at the lack of attention she was left with, meanwhile the other one followed him closely. You looked at her for a brief moment trying to analyze her behavior. It wasn’t even easy to concentrate as she almost knocked herself on the table full of snacks. “Were those even made of leg material ?” you wondered, as you saw her stumbling and this time almost falling on your- erm on Adrien.

But then you saw it, that look in her eyes as she looked his way, the way they were seeming to beg him to look at her. You quickly looked her up and down just to make sure, then around, smirking to yourself when you noticed that Adrien was still deeply focused on you and your lollipop.

Suddenly another girl, you now knew was called Alya, came to rescue her friend from embarrassing herself further “Hey Marinette” ooh so that was her name “Did you have the time to introduce yourself to our new friend here” you smiled at her, Alya seemed so nice and normal compared to what her friend was displaying ( I’m not shaming any type behavior or personality there. I can be very weird myself lmao but gosh you can’t tell me Marinette is just plain weird most of the time when she is in civilian )

“Ah sorry ! I’m Marinette” she said seemingly genuine, her eyes betrayed her lack of interest in you though, as they flickered to the blond that had walked closer at your side.

“Hello” you answered politely not really knowing where to stand, this time you didn’t even bother to give your name. She tried to speak to you about various subjects, but the conversation remained awkward. It was evident that she wanted to ask something “Aaand since when do you know A-Adrien ?”

“Bingo” you thought, you saw it coming from miles away.

“I-I mean how are you related ? Like cousins ?” she asked “Well you don’t really look alike” she rambled more to herself “Maybe you are in the same fencing club ?” she tried again.

But you only shook your head “Fincing is his thing” you said “And thank gosh not a relative” you thought - either you wouldn’t be able to do all this with him - “I’m just a friend” you stated, trying to seem convincing as you did you best to prevent a smirk from displaying onto your lips.

Chloé who was never far away chipped in “And how come I never heard of you before. Adrichou is my best friend I would have known it if you were this important” she said as she flipped her hair back ( And yes in French she calls him so I don’t know how she does in English )

Before you could even answer something Adrien spoke up “You would have known about her if you were such a good friend Chloé” his tone wasn’t mean or anything but it was enough to send Chloé grumbling somewhere else. It was a very strange scene to attend for anyone who had known Adrien before, because he never seemed to do this for anyone before. He would always let her talk. Maybe he didn’t see nor hear anything when she did, but this time it was different. It was about you. And when it’s about you he always does.

The blue ? black ? haired girl squinted her eyes at you as if trying to read through you, fortunately her friend pulled her back “I think I’m getting a little hungry there hehe. We’re just going to see what is on the table and we’ll be back soon” she smiled nervously as she dragged her friend away.

And that’s how you partially found yourself alone with him again, staring into each other’s eyes “Just friends ?” he murmured, questioningly. As his words hit your eardrums you couldn't help but be thrown back in time, not even a week ago but this very morning.

His voice accompanied your thoughts as he added “I don’t think your friends know the way you taste” bringing a rush of heat to your face. Gosh how much teasing he could be when he wanted to push your buttons.

“Do they not ?” you teased back, knowing exactly what you were doing. As your mind quickly fills with moments, pictures, sounds of him. You two had quite the steamy “friendship” you thought as you recalled how this very morning he had taken you from behind under his shower, your chest pressed against the tiled walls, the warm water raining on you as he railed you cunt. His teeth sinking in the flesh of your shoulder as he held you close. A good thing that the shower was in his room because everyone could have heard the slapping noises if it wasn’t.

While you were lost in your day dreaming he extended his hand and gently took your lollipop from your mouth, before swiftly showing it in his. You knew he knew what you were thinking about, his green pupils were blown as he stared at you like some wild animal. You knew how he could get when he really needed it. Perfection didn’t exist even for him, doing it in a bed ? hell no ! I’d say at least 45 % of the time you jump his bones you’re not in a bed. And that’s the beauty of it because without this, never you would have got fucked on his piano like this, nor against the windows in his room - of course there is not overlooked around - just the contrast of his body heat and the coldness of the glass was enough to get you dripping wet.

After taking a good taste of it he pushed the candy back in your mouth “No they don’t. I’m the only lucky one who gets to have you Purrincess” he smiled mischievously at you.

“You’re the one who is going to purr tonight” you smirked.

“You’re coming back with me ?” he asked excitedly, as he initially thought you were going back to your place after the little outing.

“Mmhh” you nodded at him as you savored his taste on the almost finished lollipop “I’m going to get more candies” you said taking a step aside, you knew that getting away from him during this moment was like torture for him “You finished my lollipop”

“Don’t worry you’ll get plenty to suck on later” he couldn't help himself from saying, hopefully no one heard, even the two girls from earlier.

“Looking forward to it” you smirked “Don’t get too hard thinking about it though” you said as you eyes traveled to his slightly stirring length. He blushed furiously as he turned around taking a few deep breaths “This isn’t funny” he squeaked “You know I can’t control how it reacts”

“Yeah they all say that” you laughed.

“I’m going to get back so hard at you” he breathed out, still trying to calm down.

You wanted to tease him a bit more but you heard someone call your name “Y/n do you wanna try to play some guitar with us ?”

During the whole end of the afternoon Adrien’s hungry eyes ( one look at you and I can’t disguise - I love you Seb ) were solely locked on you, to the great displeasure of Chloé and Marinette. You knew that tonight neither of you was going to get some sleep, but what you didn’t know is that he just had a very good idea popping into his mind. He was going to finger you until you’re quivering on the backseat of the car on the way back. Then he is going to use your mouth the way it should be instead of teasing him all afternoon, you’re going to keep him wet and warm as he plays piano or watches the tv. You should have known better than to play cat and mouse.

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jaylaxies · 9 months

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PERVERT!JAEMIN

genre/cw: pervert!jaemin, smut, stealing panties, slight somnophilia, best friends au

warning: 18+ content, minors dni

a/n: happy birthday to my princess boy <3

Pervert!Jaemin who is your best friend and that’s enough of an excuse for him to stay at your place for however long he wishes, just to stare at you in your comfiest setting. He knows how you trust him blindly, to the point you don’t bother wearing a bra around him, which he loves.

Pervert!Jaemin who loves to help you with your chores, leaving your favourite chocolates on the highest shelf just so you call him for his assistance, which would provide him with the perfect opportunity to sandwich you between him and the counter, subtly rubbing his cock on your clothed ass as he gives you back your chocolates.

Pervert!Jaemin who offers to do your laundry, not wanting to be around your place without extending some kind of help. It only ends up benefiting him when he steals one of your lacy, soiled panties for his own use, wrapping the dainty material around his thick cock, defiling it further.

Pervert!Jaemin who loves showing affection. His arms are always wrapped around your figure, even more so when you cuddle and sleep next to him, giving him the perfect opportunity to rub himself on your ass, maybe even using your hand to get off if he feels bold enough.

Pervert!Jaemin who acts clumsy at times to garner attention, forgetting to close the door just to see you change through the slightest door opening, accidentally spilling water on you and panicking, only to get a towel and tap it all over your chest in an attempt to feel your tits.

Pervert!Jaemin who loves photography and asks you to be his muse, posing for him in all ways possible, exactly how he guides you. Manipulation is an art he has mastered, and that’s how you find yourself in nothing but your lingerie, posing for Jaemin to help him with his portfolio (read: getting off at night).

Pervert!Jaemin who helps you in the gym, being consistent at exercising. Little do you know it’s all his plan to see you in those yoga pants, to touch you while correcting your postures and guiding you through it all, however, he might lose himself midway when he hears you whimper softly.

Pervert!Jaemin who doesn’t waste a second in pulling you to an empty changing room, the dazed look in your eyes being enough for him to know how much you crave his cock, not knowing that you, in fact, are just the right match for him when it comes to being wild. So, he sternly asks you to keep your eyes on the mirror as he thrusts into you, groaning and nibbling on your earlobe.

Pervert!Jaemin who doesn’t mind the people around you and shoves his fingers down your panties, glad you wore a skirt while sitting in the bus with him, asking you to keep quiet with a chuckle as he successfully makes you fall apart on his fingers.

#nct smut #nct dream smut #jaemin smut #na jaemin smut #jaemin drabbles #jaemin x reader #nct #nct dream #jaemin #jaemin imagines #na jaemin #kpop smut

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anni1309-blog · 4 months

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kinda thinking about stepbrother felix taking reader to the pub and noticing someone's hitting on her so he gets jealous and takes it out on her later if ykwim hehe

oh I love this, here you go 🎀

felix catton! stepbrother x reader

summary: felix is jealous and takes it out on you

warnings: nsfw, unprotected sex, dom/sub, mean dom felix, size kink, slight innocence kink, dacryphilia, choking, spanking, slightly toxic felix, creampie

It was an usual saturday night at the pub. or so you thought. farleigh announced that an old friend of his is visiting and joining you tonight.

you were off-limits to everyone of felix's friends. he made sure of that. being your stepbrother, he was already protective by nature, so he would show that you were his with no shame whatsoever. he would never admit to his jealousy when boys where eyeing you too long but he definitely would pull you closer and shoot them a dirty look.

yes tonight was different.

normally you and felix arrive to the pub together, but since studies are getting tougher, he caught up to you during lunch and promised to join a bit later, pressing a soft kiss on your temple moving to place lots of little kisses on your face moving to your jaw and neck making you giggle.

to call your relationship purely sibling hood would be a big understatement. the way you are so close, students usually think that you were a couple. denying feelings for eachother would be futile.

entering the pub, you immediately spotted your and felix's friends including farleigh at your usual spot. smiling you greeted your friends, noticing a new face, you concluded it was farleighs friend.

greeting him, you politely extend your hand with a smile which he took looking you up and down holding your hand quite long, stroking the back of your hand.

"my my, good looks must run in this family, farleigh has told me so much about you, it's a pleasure, my name is marcus.”

his eyes set on you hungrily, giving you a slight shudder feeling a little uneasy in his presence, but choosing to ignore it for now you return a slight forced smile.

while you were chatting, you felt eyes watching you, knowing it was marcus starring. giving him the benefit of the doubt you still ignore the bad feeling, rationalizing it by you just being tense by all the studying that you've been doing.

you decided that a drink would definitely ease your agitation. you excuse yourself to the bar.

the moment you uttered that word marcus almost exclaimed that he would be joining you, attracting some strange looks.

before you could order something marcus barged in ordering two jägerbombs for you and him.

you hesitated "ah that's alright, I wanted to get a-" marcus interrupted you again "no need, this is waaay better and you owe me this one basically, since farleigh didn't tell me that he had such an incredibly hot sister, otherwise we would have met earlier for sure" he sent you a wink making your skin crawl.

chuckling uncomfortably you just stood there in silence looking at your feet. you are so overwhelmed by this situation, not having felix close. since it was also farleighs friend you wanted to stay friendly and polite, but marcus was making that hard for you and you were too shy to say something.

he was chatting on and on about his family's wealth, while you just nodded, wasn't like he was planning to ask you something or letting you talk. what you noticed was that he keep leaning closer and closer, his hand suddenly landing on your thigh alerting your attention.

"what a sweet little thing you are, hm? if we'd met earlier I'd definitely would have had my way with you" he whispered in a low creepy tone in your ear, his hand crept higher. you froze. forgot how to breath.

then you felt a big hand pulling you back slightly, looking back you were never so relieved to see felix. melting into his touch, you looked up to see his face. you've never seen him like this. to anyone else, felix might look normal to them, but you saw his concerned look, glazing back into your eyes, but changed immediately to a look of intense fury when narrowed his eyes at marcus. his jaw was flexing when he extended to introduce himself, knuckles white shaking his hand. it wasn't hard for marcus to be taller than you but felix stood like an intimidating dark shadow over him.

"I was looking everywhere for you sweetheart, are you alright?" felix sat down giving you loving and reassuring gaze while pulling you to sit on is lap gabbing your waist tightly. you were sure that he was having a hard time not losing it right now and punching that guy in his face for touching his girl.

I gave him a slight nod, taking his hand and intertwining your fingers to calm down a bit, not being able to fake it infront of felix, since you were still quite shaky.

marcus gave a condescending snicker "oh you're her step brother righttt, don't worry buddy I took good care of this doll" winking towards you giving your knee a squeeze.

this is what did it for felix. his eyes stared at him dangerously "well 'buddy' I'll tell you what" leaning towards him "if you don't put your disgusting little cubby fingers away from her in 2 seconds, I'm gonna break them off of you, do I make myself clear?" he almost growled.

marcus paled. he tried chuckling it off sheepishly putting his hands away "yeah, no dude, of course, didn't know it was your girl, my bad, I was about to leave anyways" and turned his back returning to the table more quickly.

you let out a breath, calming down immediately, turning to felix and smiling up at him to thank him "thank you-“ but he stopped you grabbing you by the upper arm and dragging you away while muttering "you shouldn't thank me, you'll be sorry for this" while still guiding you towards his dorm.

"wait what, lix this wasn't my fault, he came up to me and then-I" you anxiously tried explaining but he cut you off again stopping pulling you close to him and looking down at you furiously "I don't give a fuck, you could've walked away but no you decided to be a little slut, so now you have to deal with the consequences", you shivered slightly at his harsh tone. tears well up your eyes as felix continued walking down the hallway, his grip tight, you knew he got jealous quickly but this was new. "felix you are hurting me" you sniffed quietly but he ignored you.

he opens the door to his dorm, pulls you inside towards his bed and practically throws you on it. when he saw your tears, he cooed condescending "aww little baby cries now that she behaved like a whore but don't worry I'll give you an according punishment" he took your face in one hand and wipes the tears away while smiling down sardisticly and quickly slaps your face harshly.

shocked by this move, you take your red cheek in your hand, looking down with an ashamed gaze.

"what? you think l'd let this go? letting you flirt with all these disgusting men? just when I leave you alone for once. this will teach you a lesson" he said angrily.

you nodded and so you moved to remove your clothing slowly and resume to climb on the bed to sit on your thighs obediently. this wasn't new of course. felix let his anger out on you once before and he liked you following his rules so this was your way of obeying him. secretly you enjoyed this too as you soiled your thighs with your wet pussy, your nipples erect and cheeks blushed.

felix groaned at this sight. "well at least you are good for something, what a good little whore" he inhaled deeply as he removed his pants and underwear. so you instinctively moved closer to him to make him feel good. you reach out but felix slapped your hand away "no way, you don't get to touch me, this is your punishment remember?" you whine desperately as he spat in his hand starting to stroke his already hard big cock from base to tip, precum already oozing out as he gripped it tightly looking down at your body, groaning lowly.

feeling super needy at this sight you turn your heal to your sleek pussy to give it some relief, as you whined more and more. but felix noticed this instantly. he grabbed your waist turned onto you towards the end of the bed and spun you around, so your ass was presented to him. felix spoke harshly "you don't get anything tonight, no touching and of course not touching yourself." his hands landed on your ass cheeks "you're gonna count all my spanks, and if you're missing one we're starting over again" he promised darkly.

his first spank was so hard and fast that the sound jumped off the walls. you didn't expect it to hurt so much but also giving so much pleasure so you moan out a shaky 'one’. the other ones were equally as harsh till your ass cheeks were all red and bruised. he put his large hand on your cheek to finally take one in his hand massaging it tightly as he chuckled "what a dirty little thing, you enjoy this don't you? you enjoy when your big brother is putting you into place hm?" he moves forward to my face taking my cheeks in his hand squeezing till my lips puckered and placed a soft kiss on them.

you softened as your glossy eyes looked at him in desperation for some relief. he let out a patronizing snicker as he put his fingers between your legs letting them move easily through your puffy lips "fuck you're wet, someone's eager huh, I'm gonna take it out on you now and you will take it, won't you? you are my good girl after all." you wiggle backwards trying to get more friction crying out moans.

felix harshly put a hand on your throat holding you down firmly, restricting your blood flow making you dizzy as he spoke with a growl "no no, you're just gonna lay here pretty, and I'm gonna fuck you till I'm satisfied" he let go of your neck and you nodded obediently.

he took his hard cock to finally place it on your pussy and teasing your hole making hot tears fall from your face sobbing silently "please lix, I need it." he ignored you, stroking his cock through your wet folds, hardening further seeing your tears.

with one strong trust he rammed himself through your tight hole not going slowly for you, as he is so big and girthy he immediately hit your cervix going in balls deep as you felt them slapping against your pussy. you moan and mewl, he was stretching you out deliciously it almost hurt.

“stoo much lix, you’re so big I-“ you blabber out feeling overwhelmed with the feeling of fullness.

“I know y’can, your tiny hole is throbbing so much begging to be fucked, that’s what you wanted hm?” he hummed, looking down at your heat brushing his fingers over it , gritting his teeth he muttered “fuck you’re so tight.”

his pace was aggressivly fast to say the least. every time you would tell him to slow down, he'd only go faster, pounding into you, laughing breathlessly at your whines and the tears on your cheeks.

felix tugs your hair to force you to look up at him pushing you with each hard thrust deeper into the mattress and whispers in your ear.

"what would marcus think? seeing you like this? what would he think? would he still want your slutty little pussy knowing l've been inside it? knowing I owe you? knowing that l've cum so deep inside you? completely ruining you for you for anyone else huh? he could never satisfy you the way I can.”

you whimper at his words your cunt contracting around him, resulting into him rutting and forcing his cock even faster and deeper into you, groaning deeply.

"lix I can- can't" you stutter out, your mind completely empty and clouded by pleasure and feeling his dick so deep, you could feel it in your stomach. your head is buried in the pillows as your back arches and you swallow him deeper. you're utterly wrecked.

"you can. and you will" his pace becoming more sloppy as he ruts feral inside of you, as he uses you to to his own pleasure.

"please lix let me cum" you let out a high pitch moan

"and I need your cum please" you start to beg desperately to finish as you start to feel this familiar knot in your stomach.

he grips your throat and pulls you up tighter until you're wholeheartedly cut off from your air supply. "such a good girl for begging, maybe I'll give you just that" he says panting his orgasm close, as he puts his thumb on your clit pushing it harshly. "cum for me" he commands.

this was it for you as you started to see white and clamp and squeeze tight around him pulling your thighs together as this big wave of pleasure overcame you.

this reaction triggered his climax so he gave you one last really strong thrust as he let out an animalistic groan, his hips stutter against yours and you feel him twitch inside you and his cum coating your insides, making you feel so full and satisfied.

he stayed inside as he leaned forward and whispered, caressing your hair.

"remember you belong to me and only me."

aftercare in the next one <3

#felix catton smut #felix catton x reader #felix catton x y/n #saltburn #saltburn fanfiction #felix catton #felix catton fanfic #felix catton imagine #felix catton saltburn #felix catton x you #jacob elordi smut #jacob elordi imagine #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi

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sunderwight · 7 days

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Scenario where PIDW Bingge had something like the fucked up baby dimension from Fire Emblem: Fates for handling his kids.

For those who haven't played enough Fire Emblem games: in Fates you can hook up various characters who will, once they've bonded sufficiently, get married and have children. Because there is a dangerous war on and nobody has time for childcare, these babies get sent to various pocket dimensions where time moves differently, where they are raised by servants. They then reappear in the story as adults (mostly) who are also just like, barely younger than their own parents. This is of course hilariously fucked up, for even more reasons than what a simple overview can convey, and it's also just kind of shrugged off by the narrative despite the many, many bewildering implications involved.

So I'm imagining Airplane stealing this whole concept and sitting down to write about Bingge sending all of his children away in order to protect them from his enemies or whatever other excuse, creating special nursery dimensions with Xin Mo only to not really spend any time with his offspring at all, resulting in a lot of them growing up extra fast and reentering the story as adults at wildly unpredictable intervals (i.e. whenever Airplane feels like it without having to remember the timelines involved because *waves hand* time passes differently in the different dimensions too). For the daughters, this just gets them married off into alliances (if they're even mentioned at all, because Airplane doesn't want to write incest and there's basically only one reason female characters get mentioned in this story), but for the sons, this usually has them showing up as upstart challengers to their father's throne. With a conclusion, generally, of them getting their asses kicked and then being sent back to their pocket dimensions with their tails between their legs (Binghe killing his own kids would be too reprehensible, after all). Sometimes (rarely) they become loyal generals. One or two have died to fuel revenge arcs. The protagonist halo extends only limited benefits to his kids.

Anyway, Shen Yuan of course reads all of this and absolutely hates it. What do you mean Binghe doesn't even raise his own kids?! What do you mean even their mothers don't?! Shen Yuan understands that Luo Binghe is an important guy with important things to do, but handling it this way makes it impossible to even consistently visit his children on their birthdays! They'd be having birthdays every day because they're all on freaking Narnia time! And of course his sons keep growing up and trying to overthrow him, surely Binghe himself should appreciate that under these conditions, his children are going to see the servants raising them as parents more than some distant emperor they've never met...? Not to mention, if time moves quickly in these dimensions, theoretically Binghe could just stay there with his kids himself and not have to worry too much about things changing in his realm, because only a few months would pass there! He could have it both -- spend plenty of time with his kids and not worry about neglecting his responsibilities! So why doesn't he do that?!

The answer (never actually provided by Airplane) is that Bingge doesn't really feel a strong connection to his children, and because of his reverence for his adoptive mother, he thinks that giving them peaceful lives with simple people to raise and love them is the kindest thing he can do for them. If he could have had an idyllic childhood with his mother in a place where nothing could harm him, he would have never sought power at all.

But of course, Binghe's kids aren't thinking "oh gosh yeah my humble childhood in a magic dimension was much better than starving on the streets!" because that wasn't ever going to be their fate in the first place. Instead they all develop varying complexes about being sent away by their impossibly remote father and his giant harem.

Possible fic ideas involving this setup:

-Bingyuan where Shen Yuan transmigrates into the intended tutor of one Luo Binghe's most troublesome sons. SY arrives in the baby dimension and immediately bonds with the little Luo, gets really mad about the whole situation all over again, and when Bingge shows up for a rare visit, rips him a new asshole about it. Romcom shenanigans ensue.

-Scenario where SV's Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe decide they're ready to adopt, and SQQ figures out a back door into PIDW Binghe's baby dimensions and just sort of, ehm, borrows some of the children he knows had really bad times in the novel (not all of the idyllic upbringings worked out, there were instances of the dimensions being attacked and the servants there being killed and etc). Bingge eventually finds out. Dramatics ensue.

-When PIDW Binghe tries to summon a Shen Yuan of his own to the PIDW world using Xin Mo, it accidentally creates some stability issues with the baby dimensions. Shen Yuan get teleported in and out of these dimensions instead, bonding with the kids there to various degrees, only to be swept away every time Bingge tries to use Xin Mo to find him again. A handful of years later, a bunch of new Heavenly Demon scions emerge as adults with the Luo family's Shizun Complex in full swing, right around the same time that Bingge finally captures Shen Yuan. Hijinks ensue.

#svsss #bingqiu #bingyuan #scum villain #scum villain's self saving system #airplane seeing a horribly contrived plot device that makes little sense and exists only to facilitate fanservice: game recognizes game

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cuntess-carmilla · 1 year

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Men won't benefit from a more feminist society outside of being less pressured to perform hegemonic masculinity. A more feminist society will cause a net negative for men not because a feminist society will set itself to kill them or oppress them, but because it will take away the privileges they currently hold just for being men.

Mediocre men who only get ahead in their careers because more capable women are overlooked or not even allowed to put their foot through the door? In a non-patriarchal society, they'll get stuck behind.

Similarly, men who only get the chance to achieve their ambitions by dumping all the domestic and emotional burden of their existence onto the women they live with? No more. In fact, they'll have to shoulder some of that responsibility in equal parts with the women they live with so those women, too, also can try to reach their goals. Actually, if the women they live with are undoubtedly more talented or promising than them, it will only make sense for those men to do labor similar to what's expected of women (workers or stay-at-home) so that those women can focus on perfecting their craft or career unburdened by cooking, laundry, cleaning, home-managing, etc.

Men will no longer be paid more than women of the same racial/ethnic group.

Incels have already correctly pointed out that a reason why young adult men are so lonely currently is because some of feminism's achievements; women entering the work-force (beyond extremely poor and often racialized women who never had a choice), women being allowed to have bank accounts and own... Anything. The fact that being married to a man isn't a requirement to any of those things in many societies means now women can opt out of being with a man if they don't want to (categorically, or just the man in front of us) so men who in the past would've had a guaranteed wife despite being deplorable humans, are now alone.

That's the point of "privilege". It's an undue benefit obtained directly from unfairly taking away from others. And this is why male feminist allies tend to sooner or later show their true colors, too.

It's not because men are inherently evil. It's because even if a man genuinely believes that women are – gasp – full human beings and that the treatment we get in patriarchal societies is awful and inhumane, there will come a time in which effective feminist praxis, as a feminist ally, will require him to sacrifice the benefits that patriarchy extends to him. And he won't. The same way rich people can think it's so so sad that homelessness is a reality, but they won't vote for a candidate who's a threat to their class privilege and wealth.

Feminism will not benefit men for the most part, and men who actually give a shit about fairness will be okay with that. Problem is, most won't. Most already aren't. Not necessarily because they're Evil Bastards who want women to suffer, but because it's against their self-interest.

Stop campaigning on "feminism benefits men", because 1) that it benefits women, who have been treated like dogshit in all patriarchal societies for centuries, should be enough reason to support feminism, and 2) it WON'T, and men instinctively know that.

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pandoraslxna · 11 months

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Special Friends – Chapter 4

adult Neteyam x female omatikaya reader

Words: 4.9k

Summary: You’re so eager to learn new things, but only if it’s Neteyam teaching you.

Warnings: explicit smut, friends with benefits, heavy corruption kink, innocent / virgin reader, manipulative behavior, jealousy, obsessive & possessive behavior, first time oral (m receiving), praise kink

Notes: The Neteyam art for the header was made by the incredible @cinetrix <3

Jealousy is a tumultuous emotion, like a storm brewing within. It feels like a sharp pain in the chest, or a knot in the stomach that won't let go. The mind races with thoughts of what could have been, what should have been, and what might be. It's a feeling of wanting what someone else has, and feeling resentful that you don't have it. Jealousy can be all-consuming, like a fire that burns, leaving you feeling helpless and out of control. It's a reminder of our own insecurities and vulnerabilities, and the fear of losing what you hold dear.

Jealously wasn’t a feeling that Neteyam was very familiar with. You were pretty much bound to the hip since you were children, and after growing up together, with him acting like your shadow, no one even dared to try and talk to you. There was never a reason for him to be jealous. No one would try and court the girl that hadn’t left Neteyams side since she had learned to walk.

When Neteyam had first met you, he instantly felt this strong urge to protect you. He wasn’t much older than you, but you were so small. So tiny and fragile. These urges were only solidified by both of your parents and basically everyone telling him to look out for you, take care of you. And that he did. Every hour and every second of the day, for all of his life up until now.

Everyone knew how close you and him were, but nobody knew exactly how far it extended.

"What? Right now?"

Neteyam couldn’t help but scoff, amused at the sight of you tugging on his arm, cheeks flushed red while you tried to avoid his intense eyes.

You’ve done this countless of times in the past couple of weeks. Begging for him to touch you, wanting him to help you out whenever you felt… strange. And oh by eywa, did you want it often. At some point, you even stopped caring if you were in public. You would tap his shoulder, tug on his arm or squeeze his hands and Neteyam would know.

He always knew exactly what you were so wordlessly begging for.

Perhaps it makes him a bad person to give in so easily, to manipulate you purposefully, get you so needy to the point you can’t even keep it together in public. But in the end, he's always making his special girl feel good, taking care of your needs in a way no one else can. He can't be that bad if you’re whimpering and begging for more, right?

He would grin that smug grin of his, pull you to the side where no one could see, before he swirled you around, both of your hands planted firmly against a tree. And then he would sink down to his knees and get a taste of that sweetness pooling between your thighs.

Neteyam was drowning in your arousal, in your need and desperation, every single day– sometimes even several times. He would give and give, whatever you desired and sometimes he would even get something in return.

But with every passing day, Neteyam felt like you needed his help more often. Not that he minded, of course. At some point, though, he came to realize that this simply wasn’t enough anymore. You needed more, so much more than just his hands, fingers, mouth or tongue. Something he was dying to finally give to you.

He's been holding back thoughts of corrupting your innocence for so long… he couldn't wait to have you. To really have you. All of you.

Unfortunately, the great mother seemed to have other plans for him.

Around a week ago, Neteyam had to accompany his father and the other warriors to a supply raid near the eastern sea. A two days flight to their brothers and sisters of the allied tayrangi clan, followed by a three days stay in which they would accompany the clan on their raid of the RDA resource trains. Thankfully, the raid was successful and the week away from home went by faster than he originally thought. The war party returned to the clans cheerfully shouts, welcoming their warriors with open arms.

At their arrival, Neteyams heart was already racing with anticipation. It’s only been a week, yet his longing for you had only continued to thrive. You’ve never been apart for so long before.

He tries to contain his excitement, but his eyes light up simply at the thought of you. His mind is flooded with memories of your time together, moments you had shared that he'll always treasure, and his loincloth feels significantly tighter by the second, eager to finally have you close to him again.

After landing his ikran safely, the oldest Sully dodged all kind of congratulations for the successful raid and questions about his well-being, in order to look for you.

On the way through the village, Neteyam passed a secluded spot, right next to where the human laboratories were located. He was in such a hurry, that he almost didn’t see you, but there you were. A little hidden by a towering frame of dark blue skin looming over you, with your back pressed against a tree.

The sight made him stop dead in his tracks, his ears twitching, trying to hear what was going on before he would approach you.

"You’ve got some very pretty lips", the stranger said and a feeling of extreme annoyance crept up Neteyams spine, followed by a burning sensation from deep within his stomach, like a fire spreading inside him. Jealousy. That’s what jealousy must feel like.

The unknown omatikaya then reached out, cupping your face in one of his hands, tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. Your eyes widened briefly, a look of puzzlement adorning your features that would normally make him melt. But now, it just made him angry. Angry, because this look wasn’t directed at him. Angry, because you looked flustered and uncomfortable with the unwanted attention, your hands nervously fiddling with the songcord that was tied to your loincloth. Because it wasn’t him touching you, talking to you like this.

Neteyams feet moved before his mind even made the decision to do so, utilising years of experience in stealth as a warrior and skilled hunter to approach the two of you as quiet as possible.

The stranger had angled his body toward you as he spoke, leaning into your space. The grin on his face was sultry, inviting. Disgusting. His knees were practically touching yours. He was entirely too close to you, Neteyam determined.

This man, this nobody, dared to then put a hand halfway up your thigh and this ultimately sends Neteyams blood pressure skyrocketing.

Chuckling darkly, completely oblivious to Neteyam standing right behind him, the stranger went on, "I’d love to see those pretty lips wrapped around my—"

"Well, that’s too bad", Neteyam cut him off, causing the man to tense up and whip around, "I don’t appreciate people touching what’s mine."

The fool seems to have grasped the enormity of the error he had made, glancing up at the olo’eyktan’s first born in shock. His eyes are wide and instantly, he's babbling apologies.

In the corner of his eyes, Neteyam sees the way your whole face lightens up and his heart swells with joy at the thought of you being just as excited to see him as he was before.

But he still keeps his eyes fixed on this interloper, scanning him like prey. He’s probably closer around your age than his, no particular distinguishing features, no face he could recall ever seeing before, boyish and rather plain. That guy was either really bold or really, really stupid to even try and talk to you. Didn’t he make it clear enough, in all of his years, all of your years of living, that you were his and his alone?

Regardless, Neteyams face darkens even more as he puts two fingers to the man’s chest and gives him a little push.

"Move", he grits out, "or I’ll make you."

The pathetic sight in front him makes him fight back the urge to just slit this man's throat right here and now. But the stranger had already excused himself and then disappeared into thin air quicker than one would run when being chased by a palulukan, so Neteyam allowed him to leave with his life, blissfully unaware of how lucky he was.

He kept his eyes fixed in the direction the man had walked off to for long enough, that the silence between you both took on a tinge of tension. Finally, when Neteyam was sure that he was really gone and the both of you were finally alone, he glanced back at you.

"I see you've been making friends while I was away, peach", he said with the raise of his brows, both arms crossed over his chest.

You looked up at Neteyam with this giddy, loopy smile, arms itching to reach up and close them around his neck in a tight hug. "I missed you", is all you respond, bouncing on your toes like an overly excited nantang pup and as always, completely oblivious to the situation you’re in.

"Hmh, I missed you too", Neteyam chuckled with a sarcastic roll of his eyes that made you giggle. Barely able to keep his anger upright by the sight of you, he finally wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you into a hug, your feet rising to your tip toes to meet his height. "Missed you a lot."

Warmth spreads through both of your bodies, a feeling of comfort and safety, like coming home. But then Neteyams hands squeeze your waist and your arms loosen up so he could step back to properly look at you.

"But don’t try and change the subject now", he sighed, giving your hips another squeeze before he retreated his hands entirely. Straightening his spine, a frown returns to his face, showing you that he was still irritated to have found you in such a position after being away for a whole week.

"H-He was just being nice, teyam", you try to explain, "He just complimented my lips, that’s all… It’s not like he said anything inappropriate."

"Oh he wasn’t?", he scoffed, amused because how would you even know what was inappropriate and what not. "And do you have any idea why he complimented your lips, of all things?"

Your confusion is palpable, almost tangible, as you grapple with the question at hand. It’s adorable, the way you pinch your eyebrows together, searching for an answer, while your lips purse.

"No", you then say with a sigh.

"They’re very pretty, just like the rest of you", Neteyam muses, reaching up to cup your face in both of his palms. His thumbs begin to draw gentle circles on your cheeks and you watch the way his eyes admire your lips, his tongue licking over his own before he continues, "But sometimes… sometimes men look at girls with pretty lips and imagine them elsewhere."

Neteyam can’t hide the way his tail lashes around in excitement behind his back as your eyes widened at his words.

"Like where?", you ask quietly.

"Wrapped around their cocks, for example", he told you softly, biting back a mischievous grin.

"Oh."

"Hmh", he hums with a soft laugh but his tone turns serious quickly. It’s hard not to let the jealousy speak out of him, when the sight of the man’s hands on you was still so clear in front of his minds eye. "Makes me wonder what he would’ve done if I hadn’t interrupted. Would you have done that to him?"

"No!", you shake your head with gasp, "No of course not!"

This earns you a tender kiss to your cheek, and another just barely brushing your lips. Neteyam relishes in the way you straighten up, trying to reach him, to make him kiss you again. You’re so close, yet he won’t kiss you properly and you huff out in frustration.

"But… you would do that to me, right?", Neteyam cooks his head to the side, grinning. "You would suck my cock, right peach? Because you love me."

The question seemingly takes you off guard. A delicate pink blush creeps up your cheeks as your mind tries to proceed what’s been said. Kind as he is, Neteyam allows you a moment to think about it. Knowing that would surely help you in making a decision, he inches closer to you and plants another kiss to your lips. It’s not as tender this time and he has to hold himself back in order to not just take a bite out of you.

He had really missed you. Spending a whole week without you was like torture to him, and now that he finally held you again, his mind was racing with thoughts of all the things he wanted to do to you. Things, he wanted you to do to him.

"C‘mon", he murmurs into your ear softly, his was voice low and almost seductive as he continues, "I’ve had my lips on your pretty little pussy so many times by now. I know you. And I know you’re curious. You want to, right?"

"O-Okay, yes", you whisper breathily and a wave of goosebumps prickle over his skin, as if he could feel the honesty in your words, "yes, I’m- I want to!"

You absently thought that your heart might beat out of your chest as you let Neteyam help you down to your knees at his feet.

Your breathing was unsteady, heat spreading from your collar down into your core as you looked up at him. For the moment he was silent, looking down at you with heat in his beautiful yellow eyes, lids at half-mast. His mouth was turned up into that smug, satisfied smirk as he threaded idle fingers through the hair at the side of your head. He didn’t tug or otherwise physically direct you to where he wanted.

Neteyam just watched you knowingly, tracing from your ear to the corner of your mouth with his left hand, thumb brushing your lips.

"Undress me", he then said, feeling a shiver run up his spine as he glanced deep into your eyes. There was still a spark of innocence in them, like a little star in the sky, reserved just for him to take and claim. To steal from the sky and keep it all to himself.

With trembling fingers and unsteady breath, you moved your hands around to untie his loincloth, a little clumsy as you tried once, twice, three times to get the knot to open. You heard him laugh a little as you finally succeeded on the third try, which choked off into a groan as you eagerly got a hand around his cock to tug him out.

"Easy, easy", Neteyam chuckled, "You really missed me, huh? So eager today."

You‘re all wide eyes as you kneel between his legs, with your cheeks flushed red. He could tell you were a little nervous by the way you bit your bottom lip, eyes flicking from his eyes down to his chest, settling on his cock that was just a few inches away from your face now.

"What… what should I do?", you ask curiously, licking your lips as you eye his cock. Neteyam wasn’t sure if it was intentional, but you scooted a little closer just then, your knees dragging over the soft mossy ground underneath them.

"Give me your hand", he said softly, waiting for you to place your hand in his before he guided them to his cock, closing your hand around his shaft. "Start like this, just how we do it sometimes."

Nodding, your mouth already begins to water as you give him an appreciative stroke, squeezing just as tight as you knew he enjoyed. You’ve done this before, you thought to yourself, trying to ease your nerves. He taught you how. You knew what he enjoyed.

"Keep your hands here", Neteyam continued to explain, guiding your hands down lower to the base of his cock, "You won’t get it fully in so use them for the part your mouth can’t reach."

"How do you know I can’t?" You all but whispered, glancing up at him with furrowed brows, genuinely curious to how he knew that. Neteyam however laughed a little at your facial expression, like you were offended and thought he would question your abilities.

"Oh my sweet peach, you’re adorable", he said, his free hand brushing through your hair and cradling the back of your head affectionately, "You won’t, trust me."

There’s a cute pout forming on your lips and Neteyam couldn’t help but inch closer to you, his hand still overlapping yours as you stroked his cock and then he gently ran the tip over your bottom lip. The mushroom-like head felt soft against your lips, the slit already leaking a small bead of pre-cum that now glossed your lips.

With a sharp grin, he then said, "Now, start with a kiss. Let me feel those pretty lips properly."

So you did. You kiss his tip softly, lips nestling against his shape just perfect– like you were made for this, and Neteyam huffed out a breath, nerves tingling like a live wire. Stay calm, he had to tell himself in order to not just hold your face still and fuck your throat raw. The impatience was killing him, he was so hard by now that he felt his own heartbeat throb between his thighs, yet he had to take it slow, advise you first. He didn’t want to be too selfish. He wanted this to be good for you too– had to, if he wanted you to do it again.

"That’s it, good girl", Neteyam whispered, watching with half lidded eyes as you kissed along his shaft. You were so concentrated on your task, it almost hurt him to move forward. He wanted you to shower his cock in sweet little kisses for hours on end, if it weren’t for the painful case of blue balls this treatment bought with it. "You‘ll have to wet it next, use your tongue."

You’re eager from the start. You part your lips, tongue sticking out to lick broad strokes along the length of Neteyams cock and instantly, a shudder runs through him. Your tongue is warm and wet and he loves the way your saliva coats his length after just a couple of kitten licks.

"You can put it in now, peach. Try and put as much of me inside your mouth as you can."

The second the warmth of your mouth envelopes his tip, followed by a couple of inches of his shaft, he sucks in a sharp breath.

"G-Good, so good", he breaths out, voice coming a little shaky, "Now suck on it. Gently."

There’s no hesitation and what you lacked in skill, you made up for in enthusiasm. Your mouth moves slowly over Neteyams cock and if it’s a little sloppy, that just seems to make it better. Your teeth graze against his cock a few times, but it doesn’t matter. It’s you doing it, and that’s easily the best part of all. And you’re trying so hard for him, it makes his heart swell inside his chest.

Neteyam has to lean back against the tree behind him, the bark scratching his skin a little but he’s entirely too focused on keeping his hips still and not jerking up into your inexperienced mouth. It feels so good, but it looks ever better. Your lips, soft and swollen red, are stretching wide around his cock, spit catching on your chin. But then your eyes flutter close as he sinks deeper into your mouth.

"No, no don’t close your eyes", Neteyam chuckles, "Look at me, peach. I want to see your pretty face."

Blinking away tears, you pry your watery eyes open and look up it him through your long lashes.

"There you are", he smiles fondly at you, laughing a little at the excited sway of your tail. His hand comes up to your head again, brushing through your hair to keep them together and out of the way in a makeshift ponytail. "Eywa, you’re so beautiful. I love you so much."

Your cheeks light up in a pretty pink at his praise and he watches how you continue just as eagerly. There’s already so much spit pooling in your mouth, spilling over your chin and dripping down your throat, but it makes it easier for you to suck and slurp around him.

"That’s it, peach. Just like that. Don’t forget to use your tongue."

The feeling of knowing you would do anything he says, follow every one of his orders is simply indescribable to him. Your tongue swirls around his tip when you pull back and stays glued to the underside of his cock when you move down. All the while, your hands stroke his base, your wrist curls and twists in the same motion he had taught you a while ago and it feels incredible.

Neteyams hips begin to stutter and then the very first tears spill over the soft of your cheeks as he feels your throat constrict around him. He tries to collect himself with steady breaths and not wanting to finish too soon, he gently pulls you off of him, giving you a moment to breathe too.

"Is it… am I doing okay?" You asks with a small voice, almost worried that he made you stop because you did something wrong.

"It’s perfect, peach. You are perfect."

"Really?" You asks excitedly, clearly surprised.

"Yes", he chuckles, stroking your hair tenderly, "Can you keep going or do you need a break? I‘m so close."

Like the perfect girl that he partly raised you to become, you quickly shake your head. Neteyam forces himself to keep his eyes open, watching as your enthusiastic tongue flicks over the head of his cock and then you take him back into your mouth. Your hand continues to move in a tight grip around his base and even though the rhythm is off, he couldn’t care less. You’re so eager, so willing to try new things with him, and that’s what pushes him closer to the edge.

You move your mouth down as far as you can, which really isn’t that far at all, and then you suck harder, dragging your lips and tongue slowly up the length of his cock, your hand following behind.

"F-Fuck, yes, that feels really good. You’re such a clever girl, learning so fast. I‘m so proud of you, making me feel s-so good", he groans, finally allowing his hips to move, fucking up into your hand and mouth. "Keep going, don’t stop. I‘m close, so close."

You seemed to preen at the praise, eagerly swallowing more of his cock and sucking him harder.

Neteyams knees buckle when you suddenly give a moan so dirty, he has to bite his tongue hard to keep himself from coming. He didn’t even know what you were moaning for. Maybe it just felt good for you too, maybe you were enjoying yourself simply because he was enjoying yourself, because his pleasure was ultimately connected yours. Whatever it was, but the vibration of your little moans around his cock made his toes curl into the moist soil underneath his feet. It just felt so good. But he didn’t want to tip over the edge just yet, he wanted to relish in that feeling for as long as he possibly could.

He loved this feeling, it was one of the best ones he’s ever had, washing away all jealousy from earlier like a wave crashing into the shore. The thrill of doing this in such a public place, barely hidden from other clan members, mixed with the euphoria of having you finally suck his cock, something he’s been fantasizing about for years– It was a high he wouldn’t forget so soon. Deep down in his chest, Neteyam wished that the guy from earlier was still around, hiding somewhere and watching you do this to him, seeing what he could never have.

Fuck, he made a mental note to get you flowers or make you a pretty bracelet or something, because your mouth was absolute heaven. He really was close, his whole body was tingling and he could feel the pressure building at the base of his spine. There was no way he could edge himself any longer.

"I‘m about to cum, peach", Neteyam managed to force out between heavy pants. You blinked up at him several times, as if to tell him to go ahead. "I want you to swallow. Can you do that for me? You’re gonna swallow my cum, yes?"

The way your throat instantly constricted around him elicited a small chuckle from him. He couldn't believe how eager to please his innocent little peach was, how it was really you, doing this to him. But by eywa did it feel good when you swallowed around him again, taking him just an inch deeper, and when he first heard your helpless little gag as his tip went too deep– he was done for.

With both hands fisting tight in your hair, he pulled you close and held your head right there, groaning deep with his eyes squeezing shut and his hips stuttering, he released thick spurts of cum onto your waiting tongue.

"T-There you go, fuuuck, fuck", Neteyam grunted, "good girl, swallow it all."

He could feel the way your tongue stayed glued to his cock, how you swallowed and swallowed, his warm cum running down your throat until you had to shove him off to be able to breathe again. Neteyam didn’t resist when you gently pushed him off, gasping for air as soon as his cock unblocked your airways.

He didn’t even wait for his own breathing to steady, to come down from his high before he crouched down to be eye level with you. His hand gently cups your chin, guiding you to look at him.

Your cheeks are strained with tears and blushed red, the cute tip of your nose more pinkish than usual and your lips are swollen and slicked with spit.

"Did– Did you like it, Teyam?", you ask carefully, your voice coming out a little hoarse, while Neteyam‘s thumb wiped away the remaining tears on your skin. Hearing your straining voice definitely made something stir inside of him. Something, that didn’t help getting his boner down even right after his climax.

"Did I like it?", Neteyam scoffed, watching the way your ears fold back in worry. With a mischievous grin he then gently pushes you backwards by your shoulders, until you lay flat on your back. A small yelp escapes your parted lips at the sudden change of position, your eyes looking up at him questioningly. But Neteyam’s hands expertly find the backside of your loincloth, pulling the strings open and sliding it down your thighs and over your legs before you can even ask him what he has was doing.

His eyes travel down on your body, slowly taking in every inch of you that he has missed so much. You watch how he licks his lips like a starved man staring at a five course meal when his eyes land on where he spreads your thighs and it sends your heart racing in anticipation.

"Let me show you just how much I liked it, peach."

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sxxythingz · 1 year

Text

Something to Prove

Lo’ak Sully (21) x human female reader (22)

Taglist: @pandorxxx my girl once again helped me make sure that this came out perfect and just ahhhh!! I couldn’t be more thankful to her 😭💖

Warnings: smut, cursing, squirting, aged up characters, creampie, choking, p in v

Summary: You and Lo’ak have a close “friendship”, always spending lots of time with each other. One day while in your hut that you had built for you close to the lab, he peaks into your bag finding something that he wasn’t meant to find which triggers an experimental side of him.

WC: 2.6K

🛑MDNI🛑

You were one of the scientists working alongside the government who was lucky enough to get picked to travel to Pandora. The experience has been amazing, you never knew another planet could hold such beautiful scenery, far more amazing than earth. You’ve been on Pandora for almost a year and in your time here, you’ve managed to accumulate friendships with the omatikayan people, but there’s been one person that you have managed to create more than just a friendship with.

“Come on Lo’ak, no more silly faces, this is the last picture that I’m going to take.” You extend your arm out for the last time, holding your phone horizontally as Lo’ak sits beside you giving a toothless smile for you guys’ final picture. “That’s better.” You say as you look back at all of the photos that you guys have taken together in the last hour. “How do you even work one of those things? What is it made for?” He asks you as his eyes stay plastered to the screen, trying to figure out how you manage to work it so fast.

“It’s kind of similar to the throat microphone that you guys use, but not really. We can call each other on it, listen to music, play games, text, take pictures like we just did, and record videos.” He nods his head as he carefully listens to you describe how to use a phone. “Can I hold it?” He asks you as he holds his large hand out and you place it in his hand as your answer. “It’s so small in my hand compared to yours.” He says as he inspects the phone, turning it around to see the backside. “That’s what she said.” You smirk, letting a small chuckle out at your joke. “That’s definitely not what you say to me.” He smirks back at you and you roll your eyes at his remark, knowing exactly what he’s referring to.

You and Lo’ak started out as friends, you could even go as far as saying that you became so close so fast that you considered him your best friend at the start of all this. Over these past few months, things changed quickly as your attraction for each other grew like wildfire. Your relationship wasn’t an actual relationship, but it wasn’t a friendship either. Lo’ak didn’t know the term for it, but you did. Your friend with benefits is what you considered him to be. He has been begging to become more than that every since you guys’ first time, he knew right then that he didn’t want anyone else having the experiences that he has with you, but you never accepted his offer knowing that one day you would have to leave Pandora and it would just hurt both of you in the end.

“Shut up! You are so cocky and I can’t stand it.” You laugh, lying flat out on your bed that you have near the lab. “That’s one thing that you love about me and you know it.” He responds back and you shake your head as a response. “Do you mind putting my phone on the charger over there? It’s about to die and I suddenly caught a cramp in my leg, I don’t think I can make it over there.” You whimper jokingly, lying to get him to do it for you, simply because you’re feeling lazy and you know he’ll do whatever you ask him to. “Cramp my ass. You just don’t feel like moving, Y/n. You are so lazy.” He chuckles before standing up to walk over to the table and put your phone on charge for you. You stare at the ceiling of your cot, waiting for Lo’ak to come sit back down beside you before you realize he’s been standing in that one spot for too long which makes you jot your eyes up to see what he’s up to. “What’s taking you so long, asshole?” You ask as you sit up and watch him slowly turn around to face you with something in his hand.

“What the fuck is this?” He asks you, a pair of thongs dangling from his long slender fingers. Your eyes widen in embarrassment “Oh my gosh! Lo’ak, put those down!” You yell out as you quickly run over to him and snatch them out of his hand, placing them back into your bag quickly. “Those are a type of panties called thongs. And why were you even snooping through my bag?” You hit him in his chest as you watch a devious smile spread on his face. “How come I’ve never seen you in these, huh? That’s not fair, I want to see them on you now.” He demands as he crosses his arms over his chest, staring down at you. “What? No, I am not putting those on just for your amusement, sir!” You say as you walk back to your bed. “Oh come on. I’ve never seen them before and I bet you look fucking amazing with these on. Just this one time please.” He begs with puppy dog eyes, and you give a low sigh. “You’re not going to stop until I put them on are you?” You ask and he smirks while he shakes his head.

You roll your eyes and stand back up, reaching underneath your dress to slip your panties off, but making sure that it doesn't rise up enough for him to see anything. Your panties fall to your feet and you kick them to the side, slipping the thong on and looking back to Lo’ak. “Happy now?” You ask him as you watch him come closer. “Turn around.” He demands as he twirls his finger in circles with his words. You turn around to face your bed and you feel his strong hands land on the bottom of your thighs, slowly moving upwards as he lifts the dress up with his every movement. His hands completely lift the bottom of your dress up, revealing the thong and you hear him groan behind you. “Your ass already looks great with nothing on, but this just made it 10x better.” You feel his hands firmly grip your ass, a moan leaving your lips already. “Take this off.” He says, speaking more so to himself as he takes your dress off the rest of the way, throwing it on the ground next to your panties.

“Wait. I’ve got an idea.” He says as you feel his hands completely leave your body and you watch him walk over to your phone, taking it off of the charger. “What are you doing?” You ask him as he walks back over to you, flipping you back around to face the bed. He puts your passcode in and finds the camera app, looking for the record button. “Bend over.” He commands as he places his hand in the middle of your back and pushes you into the bed so your ass is facing up. He presses the record button, pulling you back with one hand by your waist so you are pressed against his pelvis. You grind yourself against his hard dick that strains against his loincloth as he groans, knowing that if you keep this up he won’t be able to contain himself any longer.

“You love to fucking tease me, don’t you?” He chuckles, sending a hard smack to your plush ass. You hum in satisfaction, smirking at the situation you had just put yourself in, knowing that he hates being teased and played with. “Maybe I do.” You giggle at the thought of messing with him. “Keep on, baby. I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk straight if you don’t stop right now.” He threatens you with a good time as he gives you a hard smack to your ass again, making you flinch. You pull your ass back up and throw it back hard as you hear him moan loudly, sharply inhaling after.

“That’s it.” He growls, stopping the recording and tossing the phone on the bed, quickly pulling his loincloth off of him and letting it fall on the ground. “I want to fuck you with your thong still on.” He says as he slides them to the side, needing no lubrication as you’re already soaking wet just from teasing him. “No foreplay today, yawne. I need to be inside of you right now.” He slides his pulsating dick up and down your wet folds before he slams into you, making you scream out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

His strokes are already fast and hard, holding you by your waist as he continuously slams into your cervix. “Lo’ak… I can’t t-take it.” You stutter out, not being able to speak properly from his hard thrusts. You reach your hand behind you, placing it on his torso in a weak attempt to slow him down, but he grips your arm in his warm hand and holds it there. “Yes you can, baby. You can take my dick. don’t push me away, you know it won’t work.” He moans, watching your ass ripple again this pelvis. He picks the phone back up, once again pressing record to catch you in your weakest moment. Weak under his touch, him not even giving you one minute to catch your breath while he fucks you senseless. “Fuck Lo… I-I’m going to c-cum.” you moan out as your eyes begin rolling to the back of your head so hard that you’re afraid they might get stuck there.

You feel him abruptly stop all movement and pull himself out of you with a popping noise, causing you to groan in frustration and look back at him. “No you’re not. You’re not cumming until I fucking tell you to.” He demands. He stops recording and picks you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist. He walks over to your table and knocks everything off of it in one swipe before placing you on it. “You don’t need these anymore, baby. I want to watch this dick slide in and out of this pretty pussy until you fucking cum.” He whispers In your ear before leaving a small peck. Your pussy grips onto nothing as you moan at his words. You lift your hips up and he immediately grabbed the thong, sliding it down your legs slowly as he maintained sensual eye contact with you. Without a second to spare, he grabs his cock, sliding back into you nice and slow, throwing his head back and moaning as he bottoms out. “I love the way you wrap around me like this pussy was made just for me, and me only.” He pants out as he picks his pace back up to go just as fast as he did when he had you bent over the bed.

“It’s yours baby. It was made just for you and I only want to feel you inside me. N-No one-fuck!- no one else.” You whimper, and he smirks before shooting his hand up to your neck, placing a firm hold on it and bringing you forward to kiss him. The kiss is hungry, as if you guys had been starved of each other for weeks. You automatically open your mouth for him to slip his tongue inside, making you moan into the kiss. He breaks the kiss before bringing the phone back up, this time it’s directly in your face. “Is this what you wanted? Hm? You tease me so you can be fucked like the little slut that you are.” His thumb brushes over your soft lips, signaling for you to open your mouth, sucking on the digit.

“Fuck… you should see your pretty ass on camera. Such a little slut for me.” He chuckles. Your eyes roll as you feel your body coming close to the edge once again. “You’re my slut and no one else’s, got it? Say it. Say that shit right fucking now.” He slams himself harder into you as he takes his finger out of your mouth and you scream out. “Fuck! I’m your slut Lo’ak. I’m your slut and no one else’s.” you yell as your eyes flutter shut. “Mmm. Good girl. I love how needy you are for me.” He growls as he stops recording and throws the phone across the cot, onto your bed as he feels himself coming closer.

You feel the heat in the pit of your stomach bubbling as you arch your back, pushing your chest into Lo’ak’s. “Lo’ak… Can I cum now, please?” You beg as you feel yourself pulsating around him and he moans at the feeling. “Cum for me baby. Cum all over this dick so I can watch you go crazy on me.” He says as he takes his thumb and rubs circles on your clit, sending you into a frenzy. “Ahh fuck!” You moan as your eyes roll once again, your body stiffening as you squirt with each thrust, squelching sounds filling the room. “Shit.” He pants out as he rams his hips into you one last time, staying there as you feel him cumming deep inside of you.

You heavily pant as you look into each other's eyes, laughing at how exhausted both of you are. “You just squirted for the first time and I didn’t get to record that part.” He says, making you look down to see the mess you made. His lower abdomen is soaked, so are your thighs, and the ground underneath you. “I had no doubt that I would.” He brags, glancing down at the mess again before meeting your eyes. You feel your cheeks heat up from the embarrassment as you cover your face laughing. You can’t believe you just gave him the satisfaction of bragging about this, knowing that he’s never going to let it go. “Shut up!” You giggle as you push him in his chest before he grabs your face and kisses you again. He slowly pulls out of you, going in your bag and grabbing the wipes that you keep handy.

He wipes himself off, then he wipes you down before handing you your dress to slip back on while he puts his loincloth back on. “If you tell anybody what I just did you are so dead.” You tell him and he gives you that cocky smile that gives away the fact that he’s going to tell any and everybody who will listen. “You’ll just have to kill me baby because I’m definitely telling it.” He jokes and you roll your eyes before laughing. “skxawng. You are lucky that you’re cute.” You tell him as you stand up to face him, even though he towers over your small frame. “You might as well just date me. Please, I know you want to. You even said it yourself. I’m cute, I make you laugh. And let’s not forget….I give you the best dick of your life.” He smirks, convincing you now more than ever. You let out a sigh as you shake your head with a smile before looking back up at him.

“I mean…why not Sully?” His ears perk up at your response as you watch a bright smile light his face up. “See? You played hard to get but I knew you wanted me this entire time.” He says confidently as you both lay down on the bed together. “Oh whatever! You wish.” You scoff, rolling your eyes at him. He pulls you closer to him and cuddles you, staring into your eyes. “No need for wishing, I’ve got you right where I want you baby.” He says before planting another kiss on your lips. “You are such an asshole.” You laugh as you nuzzle your head into his chest, your eyes heavy as you slowly begin to drift off to sleep.

A/N: So first of all, thank you guys so much for liking my first story, I didn’t expect all the love and it makes me so happy!! 😭💕 I hope you love this one as well and let me know what you think. Also, if anyone has an request for stories that they would like for me to create, just let me know and I would be more than happy to do it! Enjoy you guys 🥰

(P.S. Can we just take a moment to appreciate how fine Lo’ak looks in this picture because what 🥹😭)

#lo’ak x reader #atwow headcanons #atwow #atwow smut #lo’ak smut #lo’ak fanfiction #lo’ak x human reader #atwow fanfiction #avatar #avatar smut #lo’ak x fem!reader #lo’ak x y/n

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myerssimp21 · 1 month

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Jason Todd, Hot Neighbor (YAN!Pt.2)

Romantic!Yandere!Batfam Part 2. Part 1 is Tim getting aphrodisiac'd by Ivy and desperately coming over to Darling's apartment, getting it on her. Hot neighbor!Jason hears them fucking and comes over, jealous. Part 1, Part 3: here

Still reeling from Tim's sudden departure after one of the most intense sexual encounters you'd ever had, you couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that washed over you. There was a sense of sadness lingering in the air, a twinge of disappointment that he couldn't stick around a little longer.

The word that kept echoing in your mind was "used". You didn't want to admit it, but that's how you felt deep down. You wanted to believe that Tim had a valid reason for leaving so abruptly, that there was something important waiting for him elsewhere. But a nagging voice in your head whispered doubts, reminding you that you were important too.

On one hand, you wanted to extend an olive branch, to give Tim the benefit of the doubt and assume the best of him. But on the other, you couldn't shake the feeling of being disposable, of being cast aside after serving his purpose. He had seemed so sorry to leave, he'd apologized and promised to make it up to you, but you needed the emotional aftercare badly.

It was a bitter pill to swallow; that someone could be so desperate to be with you one moment and then leave without a second thought. It made you feel cheap and dirty. It felt as if your worth was measured solely by your ability to fulfill someone else's desires. These feelings were made worse when you realized your sex had somehow left you still impossibly aroused; as if the two orgasms Tim pulled from you were inconsequential. It was like your cunt forgot it had barely pulled off the second orgasm in a row.

The conflicted feelings and the growing desire settling in your body together, you experimentally snuck a finger into your underwear as you stood there in your bedroom, eyes widening at the sloppy wetness that was there despite Tim using a condom. You were still aroused- you felt your heartbeat quicken at the realization.

Heartbeat beginning to pound at the thought of whimpering on a vibrator soon, a faint hope flickered in your chest as you heard another knock at the door. You couldn't help but wonder if it was Tim again, returning to offer some explanation or just to be with you a little longer. You honestly hoped it was Tim so he could chase away the lingering sense of emptiness that had settled in your chest. Neglecting to wash your hands this time, you staggered over to the door.

As you pulled it open though, Jason's tall form greeted you, stance confident and looming over you. His presence radiated authority and self-control, a stark contrast to Tim's frantic approach. Seeing him wearing a shirt for the first time, you remember you're not wearing pants, pathetically hiding your nudity behind the door with only your clothed torso exposed.

"Hey there," Jason's voice was smooth, his tone laced with a hint of something you couldn't quite place—"I couldn't help but notice some... interesting sounds coming from your place," Jason's words were carefully chosen, his tone easy-going but his eyes dangerously sharp. "Thought I'd check in and see who's been keeping you busy tonight."

You find yourself at a loss for words, stunned by the realization that Jason not only heard you with Tim but also has the audacity to expect you to disclose who you were with. Tears begin to prickle in your eyes as you grapple with the unfairness of the situation. If only Tim had stayed for some form of aftercare, you wouldn't feel so utterly lost right now.

"You've been getting to know someone else, haven't you?" Jason's tone carries a blend of amusement and feigned curiosity, as if he already knows the answer but is daring you to admit it. It's as though he's challenging you to reveal the truth.

Your silence seems to irritate him, and a sneer plays at the corners of his lips as he leans in slightly, effortlessly invading your personal space. Because he's so confidently moving in, you don't think before opening the door more and exposing your nudity thoughtlessly. His eyes quickly scan your form and his sneer morphs into a mean smile at the sight. The realization that you've allowed these power dynamics to spiral out of control, allowing unspoken boundaries to be trampled, makes your tears bigger as he draws closer, threatening to drop.

"Lost for words, are we?" Jason's voice held a note of mockery, "It's funny how the most vocal sluts so often have the least to say when it comes to the truth."

You couldn't help but feel shame wash over you. The brutal way he spoke down to you left you almost shocked into submission; as if his words made you want to bow your head and eagerly do as he said. The overpowering scent Tim carried that you caught when you'd buried your nose into his neck still had you dizzy, your heartbeat throbbing and beginning to ache in your cunt. It was so dangerous to let Jason bully you into what you knew he wanted, especially after Tim had left you feeling so dejected and empty with his quick escape, but you were still desperately needy both physically and emotionally.

"Maybe you should worry less about who's been keeping me busy and more about how you can keep up."

It's confident at face value, but those tears are still threatening to spill and your voice is too quiet to convey self-assurance, betraying your shaky invitation.

There's a beat before Jason wordlessly invites himself in and you feel a sinking sensation beginning to form in the pit of your stomach. His silent actions speak volumes, locking the door behind him as he steps in and his body firmly presses against yours. The click of the lock sends a chill down your spine, a stark reminder that this is no longer just a tense exchange at the doorway.

You’re sure he can feel you trembling when he dips his head down to attach his lips to your neck, exhaling loudly when you melt into it. You’re certain he can tell you’re shaky when both his arms reach up to support you as soon as he’s locked the door behind him, holding you steady as he turns out the harsh kitchen light Tim neglected when he ran out. The only other source of light is softly spilling out from the bedroom from your lamp, lightly enveloping you two in a serene glow.

“We can stop anytime you want,” he says gently and more tears well up in your eyes at how fucking soft he sounds in comparison to how mean he just was, “just say it and I’ll listen.”

You sniffle back more tears that come out when he begins rubbing circles into your back, feeling frustrated that your body hasn’t caught the hint you’re not quite in the mood. The physical discomfort that has you convinced only orgasm will relieve it is hard to explain.

“I just don’t know what’s wrong with me, Jason,” you whimper, “I need this but my headspace is fucked.”

As you speak, you can feel Jason's arms tightening around you, offering comfort and support amid your confusion. You struggle to make sense of the conflicting desires coursing through your body, the overwhelming need for release clouding your thoughts.

Then you’re trying to keep your knees from giving out when his lips return to your neck, alternating between sharply nibbling and sucking the skin there.

“I’ll take care of you,” he breathily promises, one of his large hands snaking into your panties to rub your labia up and down as he guided you both into your bedroom. Shudders erupted over your skin when he eased you onto the bed to crawl above you, a grin on his face again as he pulled it away from your neck, "even if you've broken my heart."

"Jason-" you begin, pouting up at him, overwhelmed by the sensations and confusing signals from him, "You-"

He didn't let you finish your protests, covering your mouth with his in an obscenely lewd kiss as a finger slipped into you. The embarrassingly loud, low moan involuntarily spilling out onto the tongue now exploring your mouth makes him pull away and laugh, slowly pumping his finger.

"Did you let him cum in you?," he asks, sounding accusatory, the mocking grin glinting back at you, "You're so sloppy down here."

"He didn't!" You whine, aware he's being degrading again but knowing you're too far gone in committing to this pleasure to care, "I just... I need you that much, Jason."

He falters fingering you to process what you've just said to him, and your eyes search his expression, trying to figure out what he's thinking. The thrill of not knowing makes you clench down on him, squirming underneath him as your desperation grows.

"Please don't make me beg," you whine again, sure you sound pathetic, "Jason, plea-!"

You're cut off again, this time by the sensation of a second finger slipping in, pumping steadily as he attaches himself to your neck once more, biting and sucking as you moan in relief. You can't help but squeeze on his fingers at every sensation, feeling the painful tingling of arousal slowly ebb away with each dedicated movement of his. Quickly any pain is replaced with a building need for release and you close your eyes, focused on how good the friction of the finger-fucking feels.

It's increasingly apparent to you that you're in your bedroom with Jason. He's the hot neighbor you never imagined would be between your legs teasing you like this, smirking down at you like he was Satan. But here he is, sweetly giving you exactly what you want, exactly what you need.

He suddenly stops pumping them, pulling them out wordlessly and your eyes fly open in the absence. Before you can protest or do anything other than make frustrated eye contact and whine, he sinks them back in and pauses before wiggling them inside you in a way that makes your hips buck up against him with an even helplessly louder moan.

"There we go," he murmurs contentedly when you instinctively grab for anything when he moves like this again, settling on squeezing his bicep as it flexed with his fingering, "There's my good girl. You're so responsive to me, aren't you?"

"J-Jason," you whimper, your voice already breathless and needy as his fingers work their magic and you feel yourself approaching your climax. "Can I please cum?"

As soon as you ask it, the shame rushes through again. You didn't mean to sound so pathetic, but Jason's attitude makes you feel like you should ask him for permission with the way he's acted about Tim coming over and because it's him bringing you to the edge right now.

Jason's lips curve into a knowing smirk as he feels the immediate shift in your demeanor, sensing your embarrassment even as your body continues to respond to his touch.

"Did you just ask for permission?" he teases with his voice low and husky as he continues to pleasure you, slowing his strokes and gently placing his thumb onto your clit to rub circles, "How obedient of you, begging for release like a good little pet."

His words send a flush of heat to your cheeks, the embarrassment mingling with the added pleasure coursing through you.

"I-I didn't mean to," you stammer, your voice barely a whisper as you struggle to find the right words amidst all the overwhelming stimuli, "It's just... I can't control..."

Jason's smirk widens at your embarrassed stammering, relishing in the power he holds over you in this moment of vulnerability.

"Didn't think I'd have you begging for permission so soon," he taunts, his voice dripping with amusement as he continues to tease you. "Makes me wonder... did you ask the other guy for permission too?"

Your cheeks somehow burn even hotter at the mention of Tim, the memory of his presence earlier adding another layer of shame to your already flushed face.

"I-I didn't," you manage to choke out, your voice barely audible over the rush of blood in your ears. "I didn't need to..."

"Of course you didn't," he drawls, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Because I'm the only one who can make you feel this way, aren't I? And you know what? I'll make you forget about him," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "I'll make you forget about everything except how good I can make you feel."

"Move up and face that way," he murmurs, his voice low and husky as he guides you into a new position. "I want to see you from a different angle."

You comply without question, too caught up in desire to protest. Little do you know, you're playing right into Jason's hands, completely unaware of the surveillance cameras placed at strategic areas of your apartment and bedroom capturing every intimate moment between the two of you for the voyeuristic pleasure of the BatFamily. His movements are carefully calculated to get a better angle for the cameras hidden throughout your apartment, so he can prove to Tim that he fucks you better.

Suddenly, Jason shifts his position, dipping down between your legs with a predatory gleam in his eyes. His hot breath fans across your sensitive skin, sending shivers of anticipation down your spine. You muster the nerve to peer down at him and feel faint at the sight of such a gorgeous man hovering over your pussy, looking devilishly up at you.

"J..." you whimper, your voice barely a whisper as you feel his lips begin to press against your most intimate place. The sensation makes you gasp in surprise and instinctively try to shut your legs. He uses a big arm to keep your legs spread so his head and hands had room, his warm mouth alternating between flicking at your clit and sucking on it while his fingers were buried in you. While you can't pry him off if you wanted to, the grip you have on his hair with both hands helps you feel more grounded and gives you something to squeeze when he sucks hickeys into your labia lips.

You cry out his name when your orgasm finally hits, tugging on his hair to pull him as close as you can to your pussy as he bottoms his fingers out in you and sucks at your throbbing clit.

He laughs as he pops off your pussy, "How many orgasms is that for you tonight, baby?"

Your head is spinning and a new ache is growing in the depths of your pussy. You hiss when he slowly removes his fingers, trying to answer him, "Um, maybe three?"

"Mmmm" he practically purrs, crawling back on top of you and covering your mouth with a deep kiss you hadn't expected before pulling away to smile at you, "Being able to still count them means you haven't had enough yet."

You giggle but whine when he's back to nibbling at your neck again, hearing his clothes rustle while he distracts you with kisses, "Jason, you have to wear a condom. They're next to my bed in the dresser."

He lifts his head to glance over to the dresser, "No, they're not. They're on top of it. You and him used two earlier?"

"It-" your ear tips are warm again, "It doesn't matter."

"Right." Jason says and it frustrates you that he still seems slightly peeved about Tim's visit earlier. His body hovers over you as he cranes for the condoms and he chuckles, bringing one of your vibrators into your view underneath him, "I want to see you get ready for me on this while I put this on," he gives you a look like he means business that sends shivers down your spine, "and it better be your favorite setting."

Closing your eyes and trying to not worry about the intense warm feeling spreading across your body in throbbing sensations, you expertly start and find your favorite setting on the sex toy, whining when you find the best spot near your clit. Some part of you is screaming at your decision to close your eyes; it's better for you to focus on what he said in this head-heavy state, but you're also screaming at yourself, begging yourself to just peek at what Mr. Hot Neighbor is packing. Something tells you it'll make the brain fog happening in your head worse.

The sounds of latex and skin quiet down and his lips are back on yours, hotter and heavier than any other. Or maybe that's just how you're seeing it? Your eyes fly open when you feel it bumping against your thigh and your wide eyes meet his teasing ones when he pulls away from the sweaty kiss, smiling down at you.

"How do you want it?"

"...I like it from behind," you shyly state, yelping in surprise when he promptly grabs you by the waist and roughly flips you onto your stomach. It would make sense that all those muscles would be good for something after all. He dips down to nibble on your ear tip and lays some of his bulky weight on you and you feel his penis pressing against your ass.

"What do you like about it?" He asks, and you feel weak and tremble as he grabs your hips and firmly pulls them up so they're flush against his pelvis, hard penis slowly rubbing against your cunt.

You want him to fuck you so badly, and it makes you feel pathetic and slutty given Tim had been here earlier.

"Jason-" Your bratty tone is cut off by him laying a hard smack onto your ass, and you jump in his grasp.

"Answer me or I'm not putting it in," he growls.

"That it's a deep position and it makes me feel full," you confess, feeling feverish from your need, "Please please fuck me."

"Hmmm," he hums, hesitating. In frustration, you wiggle your butt against him, rubbing yourself on his dick in impatience, "Is that it?"

"Why are you being so mean," you pout, attitude dissolving when you feel him prodding against your entrance and gasp, "Jeez, you're big."

"I know you can take it," he says and begins easing it in. You stare down at the blankets your hands are wildly gripping and moan while his entry begins stretching you open, "I'd bet you even like the pain, don't you?"

"Yes and I-I-" you feel like you can't even breathe until he's all the way in, "I can't believe you're so big." You're feeling increasingly dizzy as he slowly inches his way in, feeling a weird static-y sensation building up in your head as he eases into you.

The orgasm hits almost as soon as he bottoms out, and your body begins involuntarily twitching with each throb of your pussy clenching around him. The stimulation is getting to be too much but your moans are loud and lustful as he helps you ride out your climax on him, gripping your hips tightly to keep you glued on his dick. He keeps you plugged up with himself as you twitch on him until you finally stop cumming, trying to catch your breath underneath him after it tore through you.

The silence and stillness is broken by wet sex sounds as he begins thrusting, pulling almost all the way out before burying himself back in decidedly. The pace is slow but each thrust makes you feel like you're possessed when you throw your head back and moan at the sounds, feeling your vision blur.

"Oh," he coos, "would'ya look at that?"

His big hand comes up to wipe at your face and he shows you the drool he just dragged off your chin. His hand disappears from your view and you hear him suck on his fingers, pulling them off with an audible 'pop'. The thought of Jason sucking your spit off his fingers makes you shudder and he feels you clench on his dick like mad again.

"Oh, fuck, just like that, baby," he whines and you whimper in reaction to how fucking good Jason sounds when he whines for you, "Take me just like that."

His pace is faster but he's fucking you just as hard, his fingers digging into your sides as he grips you and pounds you down on him like you were a toy. Feeling yourself inching towards another orgasm, you start whining and repeat to him over and over that it's coming.

"I know," he manages through his grunts, ramming into you now at his own vicious pace, "I'm so close, I know you can cum with me, you can do one more."

Then all at once, as he climaxes and pushes himself all the way in, you feel yourself snap and you spasm on him with your final orgasm, crying out with each pulsing sensation. His moan is choked as you cum with him, and his hips lightly jolt with each twitch of his dick as he empties into the condom. As he and you both come down from your highs, the hands that were gripping your waist slink up and he embraces you from behind, using his weight to ease you down until you're lying on your stomach and he's atop you, breathing heavily.

"Are you okay?" he finally asks, "You're shaking so badly right now."

"I-I'm just..." it's hard for you to finish your sentence. How are you supposed to tell him Tim left without aftercare, you just had more orgasms in one night than you ever had before, and you were scared of how your relationships with both would fare after this night?

"Here, hang on," he says and his weight lifts off of you. His dick slowly begins to slide out of you and you hiss at the sensation, feeling tears spring into your eyes at the settling throbbing pain.

"Woah, hey," Jason's voice breaks through the haze of pain and exhaustion, his touch gentle as he helps you shift from lying on your stomach to settling in his lap. His thumb brushes away a stray tear that escapes your eye. "Tell me what's wrong. Was I too rough?"

You shake your head before he even finishes asking, fighting to keep your voice steady despite the tremble in your bottom lip. "No, you're fine, thank you," you manage, your gaze dropping to your hands. "I'm just tired and sore."

The lie hangs heavy in the air, and you can sense Jason's skepticism in the silence that follows. But to your relief, he doesn't press further. Instead, he wraps his arms securely around you, pulling you close against his chest, your head resting against his shoulder. He rubs slow circles into your back as you sniffle in his arms.

"Hey," he murmurs, "You know you can tell me anything, right? Whatever it is, I'm here for you."

Your mind races with uncertainty. You worry if you're being too vulnerable, too open with him. After all, you haven't known each other for that long, and revealing this level of distress feels scary to you. Summoning a shard of courage, you lift your head from his shoulder, meeting his gaze tentatively. His eyes are filled with worry, yet there's a glimmer of relief as you finally meet his gaze through your tears.

"Hey," you begin softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Do you think... could you maybe grab us some water and Advil? Just for now? They're both in the kitchen."

The request feels small in comparison to the weight of your emotions, but it's a start. Without another word, he gently eases you out of his lap, tucks a pillow next to you for your comfort, and stands up. Quickly throwing on his boxers and his shirt, he leaves. Your gaze lingers on his retreating form, admiring his physique and pondering once again how he acquired the scars that litter his torso and upper thighs.

The dull ache in your body becomes more pronounced, each movement sending waves of discomfort rippling through you. You shift on the bed, muscles protesting as you try to find a more comfortable position. A quiet groan escapes your lips, the pain a sharp reminder of the intensity of your recent sexual escapades. It feels like it's been longer than it should be, but you swallow the fear he's left you like Tim did, trusting that he'd come back.

As Jason returns, you feel a twinge of relief wash over you. He's carrying not only the Advil and your reusable bottle of water but also a small bag of cookies, which he sheepishly explains his roommate baked for him. He brought a cup of water from the kitchen for himself, bringing out a packet of powder that he poured in.

"Hey, I've got an extra," he mentions, showing you another packet from his pocket, "If you're game, we could watch a movie or hang out for a bit."

Taking the packet, you see it's an edible drink mix, and your devious grin makes him laugh. Letting him give you his freshly mixed cup, you guzzled it greedily, swallowing a couple painkillers down with it. As he used your water bottle to pour himself a new cup, you tried to stand and instead felt very dizzy, plopping back down on your sheets.

Jason is quick to steady you, "Are you okay?" he asks, his voice again laced with worry.

You manage a weak nod, trying to shake off the dizziness. "Yeah, just need to shake it off," you reply, though you're not entirely convinced yourself.

He stays close, gauging your condition, "What do you need right now?"

You pause, considering your options, "A shower would be good. I think the Advil and the weed will help my pain, but I can't relax if I don't feel clean."

"Okay," he says, "Let's get you over there."

You lean on him for support as you push yourself upright, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over you. With Jason's arm securely around your waist, he helps ensure you don't stumble or lose your balance on your way through your bedroom to your bathroom.

He hesitates for a brief moment when you get there, his protective instincts kicking in. "I'm not sure leaving you alone right now is the best idea."

"You're right," you concede, feeling a bit shy, "I'd feel safer with you here. Would you mind sticking around? Just in case? I could use the company."

"Absolutely," he affirms, a flicker of intensity in his gaze. "Consider me your personal bodyguard."

It's really less awkward than you thought it might be, with him just helping you step over the tub and closing the curtain behind you. It was honestly a good idea to have him there, since every time you bent over to reach the shampoo or soap up, you'd feel so dizzy you thought you'd fall. You decided to keep it brief, soaping up the necessities and rinsing off quickly while he chatted about his day-to-day. Apparently the cat was a friends and he was watching it for them, his boss was a dick, and his dad was a jerk. You also let him freshen up with an extra toothbrush you kept for visitors, and he laughed since he lived next door and could have gone to clean up over there.

By the time you were done showering, the weed had gotten to both of you and you couldn't hold back inexplicable giggles as you toweled up like he hadn't seen your naked body up close and personal earlier. Feeling less weak but still dizzy, you stumbled back to the bedroom with Jason attached at the hip, collapsing in bed in a fit of laughter at something super dumb he said. Eventually you pulled an oversized t-shirt over your nudity and some panties, dimming the bedroom lights.

He turned on a show you both liked well enough, and you cuddled into his side, yawning. You were almost asleep when he excused himself with a roll of his eyes, gesturing to his ringing phone. Taking the call in the living room and closing the door to not disturb you, you thought you heard him saying "Ivy" or "patrol", but you were really too hazy between the physical exhaustion, the weed, the Advil, and the eventful evening to pay attention to eavesdropping.

When Jason returned to the warm bed, he pulled the sheets up and you settled back into his arms.

"Hey, how are you feeling now?" He asks softly, "Are you still dizzy?"

"Mmm," you groan sleepily, "I feel better now. Why?"

"No reason, just wanted to check," he says, arms gripping a little tighter, "Have sweet dreams, sparrow."

Crinkling your eyebrows in amusement and smiling at the nickname, you fell back asleep quickly.

Part 1, Part 3: here

#yandere jason todd #yandere red hood #yandere dc #yandere batfam #romantic yandere batfam #romantic batfam #poly yandere #yandere hero #yandere vigilante #jason todd smut #arkham knight smut #yandere smut #yandere tim drake #yandere dick grayson #yandere damian wayne #yandere bruce wayne #yandere gotham #aphrodisiac

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chimielie · 7 months

Text

cw: a lot of discussion of suggestive / nsfw topics, no actual nsfw, nonsense

related to this but can be read standalone

Hajime thinks he’s getting the hang of this.

Yeah, you’re annoying, much touchier than usual, wearing clothing entirely unsuitable for early November, trying to get him to snap, but it’s been manageable. Only a couple of times he’s had to rip himself away from you before things went any further than he trusted himself to go.

He’s rediscovered the simple pleasure of making out like teenagers, keeping all your clothes on and varying your paces. Just spending hours breathing each other in and kissing slow.

He might even—might—add that there seems to be a kind of emotional benefit to this weird mandated sex break. It lets the both of you talk about your desires with literally no expectation and a lighthearted, joking air that eases Hajime’s intense inclinations exponentially. It’s not something that either of you would ever want to do any longer than you have to or even next year (you’ve been very clear that you see it as some sort of strange extended foreplay, on your end), but its been… better than he’d thought, in some ways.

In some ways it was still hell.

Still, as the days pass and he doesn’t die of blue balls, he starts to figure that this whole challenge might be really doable.

Hajime lies in bed with you, eyes half-shut as the both of you wind down for the evening with your new routine.

Your lips are soft against his, his left hand cupping the back of your neck, the other rubbing slow, light circles into your back. It’s gentle, sweet kissing, not the frantic and heated interaction of more carnal relations. It makes Hajime feel—

His fingertips are buzzing where they touch you, strings playing in his head, his head fuzzy with your scent. Content, like he could stay here forever.

You push yourself up on your elbows suddenly, smoothly, and settle your weight more heavily on his stomach, your knees squeezing his sides. Your pupils are dilated but your gaze is tender, and he can almost feel rose-colored glasses sliding over his face as he stares up at you.

“I’m in love with you,” you say, voice low and throaty from long minutes spent exploring his mouth slowly, excruciatingly so, like you hadn’t since the first months you’d been dating.

Hajime moans.

Loudly and unmistakably and completely involuntarily.

He sits up immediately, pitching you off of him as you collapse in a heap of giggles. His face is burning, he can feel it, but your laughter is surrounding him like a too-deep featherbed.

“I think,” you can hardly breathe, let alone speak through your mirth. He’d throttle you but that would only make things worse right now. “I think you just failed No Nut November.”

#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #iwaizumi my beloved my husband loml etc etc #shorts!#you guys will never guess what just happened to me 🕺#iwaizumi x reader fluff #iwaizumi hajime x reader fluff #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi x reader #hajime x reader #haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu!! fluff #hq!! fluff

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sincerelyverena · 4 months

Note

the oliver fic section of tumblr is SOOOOO dry rn so I'm wondering if you could write about how you've been friends with ollie since oxford and got invited to stay the summer with felix. then while playing spin the bottle you and him have something? IDK IM JUST RAMBLING BUT YEAH

i enjoyed writing this so so so much. i diiiid take this in a way different direction than i anticipated, but i hope you enjoy this nevertheless. thank u dearly for ur rambles! mwah! 🤍

⟡⁺ SEVEN MINUTES IN HELL

. . . OLIVER QUICK X FEM!READER ‘testosterone boys and harlequin girls.’ @ajs-222 @michael-loves-chickens @surazim @soocore @fedyascoffin

inbox is always open to requests!

in whichꕀ

✦ ﹒hate has no bounds. except when you're stuck in a wardrobe with oliver quick.

tagsꕀ

✦ ﹒implied sex ﹐fade to black smut ﹐enemies with benefits ﹐dom!oliver ﹐spoiled!reader ﹐reader would’ve probs bullied you in high school ﹐oliverrr you little stalkerrr ﹐felix and reader have a sister-brother connection ﹐ oliver brat tamer arc ﹐farleigh has naturally sharpened canines beware ﹐reader is a homie hopper ﹐YES OLIVERR USE YOUR HANDS ﹐DRUNK N HORNY, DRUNK N HORNYYY ﹐smack my ass like the drum slurp the dick til it cum ﹐forced proximity ﹐degradation ﹐phat exposition beware ﹐the plot is absolutely plotting ﹐implied incest between minor characters

THANK YOU TO MY WONDERFUL BETA READERS: @sparklehani ﹐@vikwrites

You pushed the frame of your sunglasses upward with the pad of your thumb. The accessory nestled into the top of your hair, positioning yourself to soak up the grandeur of old money that ascended far beyond where the naked eye could see.

Saltburn. A spectacle passed down by word of mouth.

The double ebony archways are considered to be a set of doors shifted in position. Presented to you, the skyscraper-remnant entrance is extended with a gradual creak of effort. Revealing the beauty of the estate’s foyer in the process.

“Miss Esmeray.”

You were too absorbed in the elegance etched into every breath that was drawn in the manor alone to notice the suited male positioned behind the doorways. Declan, was it? You weren’t too opposed to not giving a singular shit about the name of a mere, working butler.

To outsiders, those morals would’ve been doubted in the fashion in which you approached the estate’s employee.

You inclined forward. The painted maroon of your lips puckered as you scattered lightweight kisses upon either side of the loose, wrinkled surface of the butler’s cheeks. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, Declan.”

He didn’t seem particularly phased – on the surface at least – apart from the cool hardening of his formerly strained eyes.

“It’s Duncan.”

You stifled the urge to laugh.

“That’s what I said, wasn’t it?” You leaned backward with a hushed hue of voice and a poised frown. A frown that didn’t last long as you slipped by with an isolated thrum of your heels along the blemishless, maintained floors.

The porters that had withheld your luggage followed suit, grasping the attention of Duncan. He continued to clasp his hands behind his back, surveying the situation with a stare that would put a hawk to shame.

“Leave the luggage there. The estate butlers will see to it.” The note of exasperation that tainted Duncan’s articulation caused your personal porters to arrange the stacks of luggage onto the flooring without missing a beat.

The bound of employees hit the open doorways, leaving you to bask in a well-deserved solitude. Or so you had thought.

The hue of your flickery eyes had fixated immensely upon the silhouette which overlooked the foyer. An individual that leaned along the fencing of the plank-relied stairway, slinked in the comfort of the shadows. Even in the limelight of darkness, you could scrutinize the sight of a chiseled jaw and the irises of dusked aquamarine.

Oliver Quick. Bile slicked the crevices of your throat. That slimy, freakish companion of one of your closest friends from Oxford. The sole reason you were invited to the estate in the first place.

And that sole reason broke out into the foyer before you could’ve mustered a word.

“[Y/N]!”

Felix Catton. Gorgeous, radiant Felix Catton came bounding toward you. Arms sprawled wide open, and a grin of nothing more but graciousness broke across his lips. Devoid of awaiting a response, Felix tossed the base of his arms around your shoulders. The toned muscle propped behind the sleight of your neck, burying himself into you in the process.

“Hi, Fi.” You mumbled around the top of his broadened shoulder, basking in the familiarity of his scent and aura. The tension that had made itself known in the base of your abdomen uncoiled, just the slightest.

You had inclined backward momentarily. The palms of your hands propped themselves upon the sleight of Felix’s jaw. You surveyed Felix closely and blew out a sharp breath. “Felix, you’re looking thinner. What have they been feeding you here?”

“The summer fucks up my appetite, you know that,” Felix grumbled pointedly.

“That’s not an excuse, Fi.” Your forefinger pinched the practically non-existent fat lining his cheeks, reeling a small grimace from the male.

The dense thrums of rhythmic footsteps spliced unnervingly through the moment. You tore the unyielding hue of your stare from Felix toward Oliver, who positioned himself solidly against the foot of the stairway.

“Ollie!” Felix unraveled his arms away from you, in turn, to acknowledge his self-titled best friend. The male was peacefully oblivious to the glowering irritation that etched itself into your gaze. “You remember [Y/N], yeah?”

“How could I forget?” Oliver quipped the mere intensity of his gaze maintained upon you. You felt as if he was staring right through you, aware of every crook, crevice, and secret of your being. Deep speckles of disgust were blanketed behind hues of feigned interest.

As the moment drew on, he extended a hand. You harshly glared into it. Whilst the remainder of the inner circle Felix had established in Oxford grew to warm up to Oliver’s meek, somewhat awkward presence. You loathed it.

“Mum has been dying to see you all day, [Y/N].” The strained hues of Felix’s voice tore into the steadily growing silence. His lips curved upward into a thin smile. Felix could virtually feel the tension tighten between his two companions.

“She’s in the morning room.”

You pecked him on the cheek on your way out. “Thanks, Fi.”

Felix’s words of prominence held a generous truth. Lady Elspeth Catton pushed the teacup amid her hands aside the second her eyes had met the radiance of your presence. You mustered a small smile at the sight of the woman you had known for the year prior.

“Oh, darling. It’s been too long.”

The all-too-familiar scent of high-end designer perfumes assaulted your nostrils as Elspeth brought you into a momentarily embrace. You had come to terms with the preceding summer that she had grown to be more of a maternal figure than your mother ever would be. Even if you were inclined to remove your nose ring and settled for a less dramatic false lash to soothe her fear of what she deemed to be ugly.

In those logistics, you had no idea why she hadn’t thrown Oliver out the second she met his acquaintance.

“Come, come, come. Sit down, I’ll whisk up some tea for you…”

“Hot chocolate.” You had a hard time grappling with the concept of politeness.

“Oh, of course! How would I forget?”

As Elspeth handled the hot chocolate-bearing teapot, you were prompted to discuss the prior school year. Conversations flowed from academics to the selection of boys and girls alike who had the misfortune of encountering your diva-like logistics.

Elspeth indulged in her tea. “Did Felix mention the festivities we’re having tonight?”

You propped a spoonful of whipped cream atop the chocolate goodness, a frown painting your lips. “Not at all. What festivities?”

“One of the annual dinners with the Catton’s family friends is proceeding tonight,” Elspeth explained, tone somewhat bored with the lack of any mentions of gossip present in this crevice of the conversation. The flimsy painted surface of her nail tapped away at her teacup.

“Please tell me it's the Lockwoods.”

“Who else would it be, darling?”

“Thank Christ.”

As Elspeth continued to chatter onward about the newest scandal she observed with the Lockwoods, you pertained to drifting off in thought. Concerning the night ahead. And the dread that followed with the idea of socialization with a bunch of stuck-up acquaintances alike yourself.

And Oliver Quick.

You rolled the base of your fingers around the rounded cigarette Felix had outstretched. Flimsy smoke curled outward from the plumpness of his lips, drifting upward toward the coiling stairs above your heads.

You circulated your lips around the rim of the drug stick, angling your hand backward as you took a hit – brimming with a buzz of pleasure. The cigarette slipped back into Felix’s hand, which inclined away to pass it toward Oliver. Whom you hadn’t even bothered to glance toward once during the entirety of the night.

The remains of the others flocked behind, the light hue of conversation prominent in the air. The three others you’ve befriended – Wiona, Lincoln, and Valencia – had befriended the Catton children in their younger years. At the annual dinner that commenced the year prior, you discovered that they had developed an annual tradition for Spin the Bottle.

The sole reason why the group of eight traversed up the spiraling stairway in the first place, bottles of alcohol propped in hand.

A prominent part of you wordlessly hoped that the alcohol would loosen you up a tad. Alas, with the sensation of Oliver’s eyes bored into the back of your head. You were bound to feel a tad paranoid. Especially when you weren’t oblivious to how every movement you made was tracked.

The minuscule smirk when the base of your nail had chipped. The glimmer of distaste when you looked up and down the outfits of the current houseguests. The burn of eyes when you laughed a tad too loudly. The indescribable emotion that blared throughout Oliver’s surveying gaze as you stared into him. An attempt of intimidation that was never accomplished.

The solid front of the bathroom’s tiles was undeniably cool, in contrast to the thin garment that shielded the top of your thighs.

You proceeded to tuck yourself across the minuscule opening between Farleigh and a most currently amused Felix. The glass-spun bottle of the night lay vulnerable in the grip of his broadened fingers.

“Care to make a bet on this year’s game?”

A short laugh stirred itself from the crevice of your throat. You inclined your head over the brink of your shoulder, scrutinizing gaze propped upon the curly-haired male sat inches away. Farleigh’s eyes crinkled with the intensity of his curved lips, tongue tracing the rim of his canines.

You suddenly grew aware of the sheer amount of certain plastic bags you had smuggled down your bra upon arrival. Ziplock bundles of goodness Farleigh would surely die for. A sentiment visible from the mere spark of interest blanketed behind his eyes.

“You seriously think I’ll say no to a good gamble?”

With a tinge of casualty, Farleigh swung a singular arm over the bridge of your shoulders. His voice grew hushed, but the intention of his words burnt into the crevice of your ear. “One of those pretty bags of yours if it lands on Valencia and Lincoln.”

“They’re siblings, munchkin.” The force of your articulation twisted with a prominent combination of distaste and fluid judgment.

“So what?”

For someone who always had something to say, you hadn’t been rendered this speechless in a long, long time. Alas, Farleigh wasn’t the only soul that expressed his amusement with the fact.

Oliver stared right into you. Twisted amusement circulated within his gaze.

Felix proceeded to illustrate a spectacle of himself, the glass-rimmed bottle set down on the tiled ground before him. Dramatics and flairs. Nothing out of the ordinary for your beloved Fi, who expressed the rules and regulations of the game as if his company hadn’t played for the years prior.

This excluded a scrutinizing Oliver. A prominent smirk threatened to overcome your lips at the sight of his cockiness. His prior attitude slipped away at the news of having to potentially be stuffed in one of the Catton’s family closets for several minutes – with his luck – accompanied by a total stranger.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t wait to begin.

Felix offered a riveting motion with his hand. The echo of uproar, paired with the creak of the bottle against the tiles bounced off of the thinly-veiled walls as he gave it a fluid spin.

The uproar crescendoed into a screeching halt as the pitcher shook into a steadied pace. Its glimmering tip angled precisely toward a noriette-haired girl, who was in the midst of pertaining her slight nose toward the strip of snow-white goodness laid out on the back of her hand.

“Wiona!”

“You better hope and pray, darling.”

“Leave your drink with me, Wynn!”

Felix stuffled the broadened nature of his fingers into his mouth. He offered a low whistle toward Wiona, whose smirk was shielded by her bob-length curls.

He inclined toward the glass-rimmed bottle once more. “Right, whose the lucky boy… or girl? We don’ discriminate here…”

Murmurs of agreement followed the winding silence of the spinning contraption. Accompanied by short-circuited laughs, and gambled musterings. Overtaken by shrill yells as the crown cork inclined precisely toward Farleigh, whose curves were still draped over you.

“Leigh, that’s you.” Felix had confirmed, to the delight of those inclined around the circle. His eyes crinkled, appropriate to the intensity of the sparkling grin that graced his otherworldly face. “The blue room awaits you lovebirds…”

The jangling of cash and the slip of dope occurred.

The game continued as such. And with gradual time, all participants grew intoxicated by the minute with the presence of booze and crack. Two of your tit-coke bags have been ripped out of your disposal with the force of the circle’s gambles, gaining triple the amount in the process. Especially when Lincoln and Valencia slipped into the next room.

You found yourself with the curve of your head lolling atop the pad of Felix’s shoulder. An endearing warmth buzzed throughout you, rooted in the alcohol burning the crevice of your throat.

One of Felix’s broadened palms settled upon the hitch of your scalp. The other claws at the scarcely dented bottle once more, sending it into a tile-searing spin.

Commotion peaked within the room as the pitcher sloped toward Oliver.

Shadowiness engulfed your vision as the wardrobe doors closed in. Bathing in the darkness of mere loathing for two factors in this twisted, twisted equation. For the bottle. And for Oliver Quick, who had never been closer to you than in this moment. Bile rose in your throat for the second time that day.

It was just your luck that the bottle inclined towards you at that moment.

“That’s ironic.”

A slither of outside illumination managed to crack into the wardrobe, lining the crevice of Oliver’s azure hues. Speckled with what was perceived as faint amusement, tightening the knot of tension present in the atmosphere.

The sleight of your back strained as you stumbled toward the clanky side of the closet, desperate to discover an escape. To no avail. The faint ghost of a scoff reverberated from the hollow of your throat. “What’s ironic, huh?”

For some reason. For whatever reason at all, Oliver inclined toward you. The slightest indeed, but it managed to send your heart hammering between your ears. Nothing more but pure loathing pulsated throughout you with the sudden proximity. It was the alcohol. Booze does funny things to the mind, right?

Olivcr’s alcohol-tinged breath mists upon your lips. His words slurred somewhat. “For som’one that gets everythin’ she wants, you seem pretty… helpless right now.” “Anyone that finds themself in a closet with you would be.”

“I’m jus’ sayin', it’s pretty pathetic.”

A gradual grin seeped onto Oliver’s face at the undeniable loathing that flared within the depths of your eyes. You looked as if you were a tick away from murdering him with your bare hands, and it brought him nothing but pure amusement.

“Pathetic…” The word dripped off of your lips with slow, taunting articulation. A twisted of taunted tipsiness. With the fiery force of each syllable, you leaned forward and clasped a sloppy hand toward the center of Oliver’s chest, an attempt to shove him further away.

“Pathetic?”

You had made your intentions very clear to extend the distance between you and the male. To your luck, you had found yourself even closer.

Oliver didn’t appear phased, gaze carving holes into you. “You think the complete world of yourself, I’d say that’s pretty pathetic.”

Your stare narrowed down further. Silence draped over you momentarily with the intention of cold-shouldering Oliver until the seven minutes eventually ticked by. You adverted your eyes, purposefully scrutinizing the slight gap between the worn closet doors. The illumination blurred amid your intoxication.

“Look at me.”

A roughened palm tore you back toward reality. Accompanied by a thread of fingers that pressed into the curve of your cheeks. Your once inclined head had surrendered into Oliver’s grasp, involuntarily meeting his gaze.

“Whoa… he’s finally thinkin’ for himself for once.” You spat out around the mere brute of his hands. Even though they radiated a certain chill only Oliver could possess, a prominent warmth glowed in every patch of skin he had clutched onto.

“Instead of bein’ Fi’s little hound…”

Oliver’s grappling hand seemed to tense with every batter of your words. “Shut your bloody mouth before I do it for you.”

“Wooow… so scary–”

You barely possessed the will to blow out another sharp breath before Oliver’s lips were interlocked with your own. The breath you had been holding hitched upright into your throat. Your chest constricted. In replacement of the disgust you preempted, velvety warmth pulsated throughout your entire being with a singular brush of the male’s mouth along yours.

With the fashion in which Oliver devoured your lips, you wondered if he wished to eat you alive.

You blamed it completely on the booze and the crack.

He was the first to pull back from the embrace, hands still tucked immensely around your jaw. A glow of succession is prominent in Oliver’s aquamarine stare, a glow that brought forth a sleight of irritation to overcome you.

“I believe you liked that.”

“Your ego is as big as your head, Oliver.”

He inclined his head, a smile wandering upon his lips. “That wasn’t a denial, now.”

The palm that cradled the sleight of your jaw loosened the slightest. It moved toward the back of your neck, utilizing the position to guide you toward him further. His lips. So close. Nearing with time. The curve of your abdomen burned with a newfound desire, christening your inner walls with its molten warm goodness.

But you couldn’t care. You just couldn’t.

“You’re completely… fuckin’ mad.”

The seven minutes must be up now, wouldn’t it? Your ears strained themselves through the momentary silence as you processed tidbits of laughter from the next room over.

You reminded yourself to beat the everliving Christ out of Felix Catton the next morning.

The palm still collared around your neck dug downward into the base of your shoulders. In the same leering motion, the edge of a heel curved into the density of your legs. Before you can even process the situation, the rock-hard surface of the wardrobe is felt underneath your suddenly aching knees.

“Now, now…”

You inclined your head upward. The twisted hues of Oliver Quick bored down upon you, like wood to an already brewing fire engulfing the inner workings of your womanhood. The hollow of your throat bobbled as you gave a dense swallow.

An even denser zip of Oliver’s dress pants sounded throughout the wardrobe.

“How about I teach you a lesson on how a brat should behave?”

WORD COUNT: 3K MASTERLIST REQ ME!

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mysteria157 · 2 months

Text

Chapter One

Pairing: Black Fem!Reader x Hitman Toji Fushiguro

CW: Profanity, Hints of Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Comfort

Word Count: Don't worry about it.

Summary:

“I’m only going to say this one more time, Toji. I don’t do situationships. I don’t do friends with benefits or the occasional hookup. You want more? I want you to try. Earn me.”

His hands are so bloody, that if you ever knew the source, you would'nt want someone like him to try. He shouldn't be here, taking up so much of your time, asking for more. But he's selfish.

-or; Toji, a notorious hitman, moves to America for more money and a better life for his son. He didnt expect to sleep with you, let alone want more. When his dangerous life catches up to him, he takes on one final lucrative hit, but realizes this target has unseen connections hitting closer to home. Now he must navigate a perilous job while desperately keeping his criminal double life hidden from you.

Authors Notes: Hello! I hope you all enjoy this first chapter. As stated in the masterlist, this fic is a continuation from Maneater, so reading that will definitely help set the tone for this fic. I plan to dig deep with this story and really find my voice writing a different genre.

As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! Enjoy and thank you for your support!

Dividers: @royallaesthetics @eloquentmoon | Header: created by myself (fanart from Pinterest)

…women like you drown oceans -Rupi Kaur

*** You ***

Pop!

The sharp sound of gum expanding and then exploding causes you to flinch, your eyeliner pen frozen just above your lid. Through the mirror’s reflection, you shoot a glare at the open closet door, where your cousin rummages through your clothes.

Pop!

She’s in her own little world. If this were any other circumstance, she would have been scolded for her habit of popping gum—a top offender on the list of annoying behaviors ingrained in both of you since childhood. You detest the sound, and if you were closer, you would have punched her in the stomach by now.

You and your cousin typically get along well, but she enjoys testing your limits to coax you out of your shell. The only way to shut her up is by letting her tire herself out during her talkative rampages or swinging at her when you’ve had enough.

Every day with her is a gamble of which will come first.

Your eyeliner is still hovering by your upper lid, suspended in place as you watch another sundress get haphazardly thrown against the closet wall instead of being put back on a hanger where it fucking belongs.

You can’t bother with trying to get violent with her, you’re way too preoccupied with other thoughts. More incessant thoughts like how to play it cool on a date. It’s not that hard, right? Be yourself, get a gauge of the man trying to impress you, entertain a few hours of your day and then back home to relax.

Easy.

If it were anyone else but Toji, then it would be easy.

You had buried yourself in double shifts and extended hours in the lab just to distract yourself from today. Anything to keep you busy and keep your mind off the fact that someone you are sort of interested in…wants to see you. And he reminds you every day when you look down at your phone.

Despite his admission of being a lazy texter, Toji is surprisingly consistent. But the messages take on a blunt form wrapped around a small pearl of care.

Toji: Eat breakfast. What good are you in a hospital if you pass out?

Toji: Stop taking on more shifts, its stupid. Go home and rest.

Toji: You better not be tired this weekend.

No matter how hard you try to force your face to stay immobile, each text makes your lips twitch into a small smile. He masks his words in harsh deliveries, but the intention is obvious. The satisfying jolt that shoots up your spine when your phone buzzes with a notification from him should be embarrassing. It should be.

But you love it.

It’s absurd, really. Only two weeks have passed since you met him, hardly enough time to form any meaningful connection. Yet, that night at your uncle’s was unexpectedly delightful. Toji was, against your better judgment, charming and attentive, almost to the point of clinginess. And, undeniably, he’s attractive. And a fucking fantastic lay.

So, despite your instinct to ignore a man and the way they flaunt their feathers for your attention, you want Toji to bring that same energy as last time.

You lean your elbows back into the shiny wood of your vanity, focusing your attention on your eye as you lower the eyeliner to your skin.

Pop!

The sound makes you jump, disrupting your focus and smearing the eyeliner across your temple.

“Rene!” you bark, slamming your eyeliner down on the vanity top with a force that makes your hand sting, and you yank a drawer open in search of a makeup wipe. “Stop popping your gum before I come over there and beat the shit out of you.” As you wipe off the smudged makeup, you catch the reflection of your cousin emerging from your closet.

She embodies a beauty that’s almost blinding, matched only by her lively personality. So naturally, heads turn when she enters a room, her chocolate skin seemingly radiant wherever she goes. With her thick, kinky hair always in a protective style and her unshakeable confidence in her intelligence and appearance, Rene caught Shiu’s attention immediately, and he’s been captivated ever since.

She is one of very few in your family who truly gets you, who sees the world with clarity and understands its nuances and how to navigate through it without compromising her ideals. Since childhood, you’ve stuck to each other like glue. She understands you and your guarded demeanor, you understand her and her loud personality. She’s one of your best friends.

But at this moment, as she stands before you in booty shorts and a tank top that accentuates her curves, her twist out cascading from a pineapple updo, and an outfit draped over one arm, she is pissing you off as she pops her gum againwith a cheeky expression.

“I like your makeup.” A sly grin stretches on her face, enhancing her soft features. You ignore her, feeling your defenses rise as she effortlessly peels back your layers. The liquid eyeliner glides against the smooth brown of your skin, forming a subtle cat-eye as you pretend not to notice her approaching you from behind.

She gracefully settles onto your vanity top, ignoring your lipstick casing that teeters over and rolls across the shiny surface. You shoot her another glare before moving to your other eye. “You should put on some mascara too. When you give him head later today, I’m sure he’ll love to see it run down your cheeks and—”

You swing at her not even a second later, landing a solid smack on the side of her thigh. “UM Ow?!”

“Um?? Shut the fuck up,” you growl, sneering at her with a leveling scowl that you hope cuts through her.

It doesn’t.

Rene snorts, shrugging off the vanity and moving to your bed to change her clothes. As she pulls your dark jeans over her thick thighs, you can’t help but wonder if you should dress more…sexy? Your jean shorts reveal enough skin, and the jersey fits snugly around your torso. You’re no stranger to dressing to the nines and making heads turn just like her, but you value practicality more than appeal. It’s a football game, after all, and you love football. Why bother looking overly sexy when you’ll be screaming and stuffing hotdogs and pretzels in your mouth?

Despite the logic, a hand of insecurity tightens around your throat.

Rene, like the annoyingly clairvoyant bitch she is, tastes the shift in the air and rolls her eyes at you through the mirror’s reflection. “You look fucking amazing. Toji asked you out—frequently, I might add.”

The memories of his persistence flash through your mind in a rush. Heated touches in the backseat of your truck, sweaty skin sliding against each other, and your mouth dripping with moans of satisfaction were constantly interrupted by his repeated question.

“Let me take you out.”

As if he couldn’t get enough. As if he wanted more. As if he wouldn’t leave your uncle’s house that night until you flat-out told him to leave you alone.

You haven’t entertained a man since your cheating ex, so your defenses remain high and guarded, fortified with brick and mortar, armed to fend off anyone who comes too close.

But in such a short time, Toji managed to advance further than others with hard skin resilient to your attacks, and a constant insistence to be by your side. He’s spoken to you in ways that would have landed others in the ER, yet his words were always laced with harsh care to make you confront your own overreactions instead of hiding.

“Stop acting up and let me be nice to you.”

“You’re not mean to men; you just don’t do bullshit.”

“It’s okay to be a little excited about this,” Rene interjects, slicing through the thick current of your anxiety.

And you are, excited and a little nervous, though you don’t respond to her, simply reaching for your clear lip gloss to finish your makeup.

By the time there is a knock on your door thirty minutes later, you and Rene are ready to go. Your curls are piled high on your head, tendrils falling to frame your face and your hairline slicked with curled edges. There’s a subtle shake in your hands wrapped around the handle of your front door, betraying the calm façade you wear. As you open it, expecting Toji’s familiar face, you’re met with Shiu, a toothpick in his mouth and a gentle smile playing on his lips.

You greet him warmly with a hug, letting him inside. He can only hug you for a second before rushing past you and toward the direction of your room, anxious to see his fiancé. “Don’t fuck on my bed!” you yell after him, loud enough for your cousin to hear.

It’s only a minute later when there’s a knock at the door that makes you jump, shocking you into reality again as you realize that you haven’t moved since inviting Shiu inside. In your stupidity, you look through the peephole and swallow the gasp at Toji’s distorted form.

“I can see your feet. Open the door,” his deep voice cuts, familiar and commanding.

Your fingers curl against the wooden surface of your door, nails scratching lightly along the veneer as you wrestle with the innate temptation to be stubborn. Besides Nanami Kento—another close friend and coworker—Toji is the only man you’ve let talk to you like this. He’s a little bit of an asshole, but beneath his rough exterior lies a tender core that beckons you to peel back the layers like an onion, eager to feel just how soft the bulb is in the center. You’re drawn to him in a way you can’t explain, and it’s a longing that ignites a hunger that you haven’t experienced in a very long time.

With a resigned sigh, you swing the door open to be welcomed by the sight of him, a picture that leaves you momentarily breathless. You swallow the drool that pools instantly in the back of your throat, curl your toes in your sneakers to resist the urge to spring forward and slant your lips against his, and bite the inside of your lip so the twitching on the sides does not turn into a gentle smirk.

“You look good, baby,” his words roll off his tongue effortlessly, his gaze sweeping over you with a knowing intensity. It feels as though he’s studying a heavily guarded masterpiece that he finally has his hands on to steal. He notices every stroke of paint, every blotch that makes you who you are and it’s with a concentration that leaves you dizzy enough to grip the door tighter in your hands.

Though only a week has passed since you last saw him, his presence still grips you with a force that borders on intoxicating. Clad in a black shirt that accentuates his commanding presence, his broad shoulders exude a magnetic strength that summons you, stirring a primal desire to dig your fingernails into him like you did that night in your truck. One of his hands is tucked in a jeaned pocket, the other is behind his back, and jet-black locks brush his cheeks as he chuckles, undoubtedly amused by the dumbfounded stare that you’re still shooting his way. His scar cradles the side of his lips in a seductive curl as he smirks.

God, he’s so—he’s so—

His presence seems to fill the entire room, a tangible force even without crossing the threshold of your home. An urgent ache surges within you, craving the warmth of his embrace, the security of his strength.

“You gonna let me in or just keep your mouth open for the flies?” His voice breaks the reverie in your mind, a well-known blend of annoyance that fills your chest immediately. You’re reminded of how effortlessly irritating he can be, yet there’s a strange allure in his confidence.

At this point, you don’t have a quip loaded up quick enough to shoot back at him. So, you step aside and hold your breath as his large body crosses the threshold of your home.

The last time he was at your door, he barged inside with a barely contained fury and pulled you into an argument that stemmed from your unwillingness to be vulnerable and his lack of expertise in expressing himself. It was a weird song and dance that marked the beginning of something you still don’t fully understand. Now, he’s here with a slightly different demeanor, calm and self-assured as he plants a firm kiss on your cheek as if he’s a hardworking husband returning home just in time for dinner.

You gape at his nonchalance, watching in disbelief as he kicks off his shoes and pulls his hand from behind his back, presenting you a bouquet of flowers in a manner that feels both rushed and sincere. You look down at the flowers, wide-eyed and blinking to make sure the reality you are currently in isn’t actually a simulation.

Daisies.

Not the cheap, wilted blooms you kind of expected from him, but fresh, vibrant flowers. Their white petals gleam softly, each grain of pollen in the yellow center visible in the light of your kitchen. The stems are freshly cut, wrapped in a simple red bow and your chest is fluttering with a severity that unsettles you.

“I didn’t know what kind you liked. And I don’t trust Shiu with an honest answer so…” His words trail off, leaving unspoken sentiments lingering in the air.

Your lips curl around words that won’t form, and you mentally sort through your book of tricks. It’s a book you’ve spent years filling after countless experiences. Men will do just about anything for pussy. There’s no reason to be shocked at why they do the things they do—they’re all the same.

But even from that first day you met, you have already shuffled through your book when it comes to Toji. Every time you look up whatever trick he tries to pull, you come up with an empty page. There’s never a solution or a pre-written response that you can use. You have no choice but to figure this out on your own and fill in the pages later.

“If you don’t like them, you don’t have to take them,” he cuts into your thoughts, words edged with a trace of embarrassment that he’s trying to cover up with frustration. “Just give them back—” He reaches for the flowers, and you reflexively pull your arms away, much to your own shock at the way your body moves on its own.

“I like them,” you blurt out, your voice not as strong as you want it to be but thankfully steady as the words leave your lips. “They’re very nice, Toji. Thank you.”

He drops his hand, shoves it deep into the pocket of his jeans before clearing his throat and giving you a sharp nod. His eyes take in your face for only a second before they flit away to focus on a random spot in your living room, a hint of blush on his cheeks that makes the fluttering in your chest pick up in speed. It’s a weird feeling that will consume you if you don’t stay in control.

So, you push it down, swallow the pool of saliva in your mouth so it can help the glide, all the way down to the pit of your belly to extinguish the embers that threaten to lick to life. You shuffle past him and into the kitchen to fetch a vase, your mind sorting through the symptoms of various pulmonary diseases to distract yourself from the giddiness of him getting you flowers.

A normal thing. The bare minimum for a man. But it makes you feel great all the same. They aren’t your favorite, not even close, but it’s a gesture that shatters your preconceived notions about Toji that probably shouldn’t be there in the first place.

“What are they?” he asks, face still pink below his eyes that linger on the countertop instead of at you. You untie the bow at the stems and slide the daisies into an antique vase with crystalline ridges, shooting him a questioning raised eyebrow in response. One of his hands gestures wildly to the vase you are filling with water. “Your favorite flowers.”

“Snapdragons.” Toji throws you a quizzical look, his eyebrows pinched together in a clear display of confusion that makes you chuckle. You push the now full vase of flowers to the center of your kitchen countertop, the sight warming your stomach no matter how much you try to stop it. “They aren’t in season, but there’s a vendor here that sells them in the Spring and Fall. Growing up, we lived right next to a river where they would grow. My father would pick them every year and bring them to my mother as a gift. Whenever they wilted, he picked more and replaced them…over and over until they weren’t in season anymore.”

You dig your teeth into the wet flesh of your cheek to stop yourself from rambling, the need to talk more about yourself is at the tip of your tongue. He’s quiet as he takes in your response, eyebrows twitching with fleeting emotion before they smooth out into their usual calm expression. Maybe it’s your eyes playing tricks, but he looks as if he’s locked away your little nugget of information and is ready to move on to the next thing.

More of you.

That gaze is now free of shyness and taking you in, sharp and cutting and rough around the edges, his green irises sliding down to the exposed skin of your thighs, and they must beckon him because he makes his way towards you with a dominating presence that tightens your throat. He walks around the countertop, avoiding the sharp edge from biting into his side and now he’s standing in front of you, looming and dwarfing you without even trying. You catch a whiff of his cheap cologne—a different scent from what you smelled before—but still rich with bergamot undertones that make you more curious than bothered at his frugal mentality.

“Can I kiss you? Or you gonna smack me instead?”

Even though he’s teasing, he displays the growing knowledge of your boundaries and the lengths you will go to protect yourself.

“What, you want to get smacked, Toji?” you retort, lifting an eyebrow at him, your neck tingling from the strain of looking up due to his height. God, he’s such a big man. Big and burly and just enough to overwhelm you in a way that you crave so, so much.

“Nah. I want a kiss,” he confidently responds, blowing away the cloud of lust from around your head.

He’s too close and yet not close enough. He smells too good, looks too good with a voice that’s too deep and melodic for you to ride on logic for a full day, but you need him closer, so much closer and—

Your back brushes against the edge of the kitchen sink, making you tense at the realization that he’s backed you up against it and is looking down at you with that nasty smirk you entertain more than you should.

“You…” you begin, trailing off when one of his muscular arms reaches past you to rest onto the counter on one side, still giving you an escape route even though you’ll take being trapped against him any time of the day. “You already kissed me on the cheek when you walked in without asking me. Don’t be stingy.”

Toji clicks his tongue in disappointment, the sound pushing a rush of electricity down your spine that’s generating too much energy between your legs. He shrugs, broad shoulders pulling up and down, stretching his shirt in the most delicious way. “That’s not enough.”

Although lust is darkening your thoughts slowly despite your resolve, you still have enough common sense to remember the kind of woman you are. You’re someone unwilling to tolerate fuckboy behavior and would rather humiliate a man than give in to temptation that would only embarrass you in the future. You have to stay in control. Just for the rest of the day to measure his intentions with a level head. Even though you feel heavy with lidded eyes, you slip into that second skin of yourself with ease.

“Ask nicely,” you whisper.

He takes the bait—like they always do—and slinks further into your space, his broad and muscular form brushes against your softer one. Your gaze remains indifferent as he asks to kiss you in a sing-song voice that’s borderline annoying and teasing, threatening to make you laugh despite your resistance.

You take in his question with a noncommittal hum and slide a hand up the soft fabric of his chest. The muscles underneath flex and twitch beneath your palm, echoing memories of that unforgettable night when you could slide your fingers on the sweat of his abs as you rode him for all he was worth.

Your hand rests against his cheek, watching as he slowly falls for your trap, inhaling deeply with his lips a mere breath away from yours before you speak calmly and softly.

“No.”

You stroke his cheek in a soothing manner before patting it a little too hard that’s close to a smack, yanking a grunt of frustration from him as he pulls away with an bothered growl. You relish in the sigh of his scar twisting when his face curls with annoyance, his eyes rolling and his arms folding across his chest like a child being denied dessert. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles from your lips, growing in intensity as his eyes narrow at you.

“You’re so damn annoying,” he pouts, and the fact that he truly looks put off for not getting a kiss only makes you laugh harder.

***

The sight and sound of cheering fans excite you, filling you with childhood memories of games with your father. As the four of you make your way through the large parking lot and in the direction of the stadium, you take in the display of emotions that cross Toji’s face as he is immersed in a part of culture unfamiliar to him. The intricacies of American sports are puzzling to Toji, you realize. While you wave excitedly to the fans who are tailgating and grilling food and playing cornhole, he looks on in disbelief. When you explain the concept of tailgating to him, his expression deepens even more. He doesn’t like the hecklers that litter right outside the entrance and try to sell nosebleed tickets twelve times the market price. He thinks porta-pottys are foul as he takes in the long line of people who wait along the side of the large parking lot. You can tell he’s a little overwhelmed, and aggravated by the new things he learns. But he doesn’t complain, content to listen to the three of you as he watches his surroundings.

Despite the array of emotions that engulf him, he keeps you by his side without a second thought. The closer you get to the stadium, the thicker the crowd gets. When you make it through security and begin the long journey up the stone circular walkway of the stadium, Toji wraps a muscular arm around you and rests his hand on your hip in a grip that conveys a protective strength that shoots fluctuating reactions through you.

At first, you think he just wants his hands on you, and you’re prepared to smack his touch away. But then your perception shifts; a random man bumps into you with a sharp elbow into your arm and he turns around with an angry expression ready to yell. The glare that Toji levels at him leaves the man sputtering and apologizing before he slinks back into the crowd.

Normally, you don’t thrive off blatant displays of masculinity, but the sight of the man running away from Toji’s imposing stare makes your stomach fill with a deep-seated lust that surprises you. Like you’re a cavewoman, watching her caveman beat at his chest when another caveman gets too close to you. Toji grumbles to himself about the sheer number of people, his voice tinged with frustration even though his reassuring touch is gentle as he guides you through the throng of people toward your seats.

Thankfully, they aren’t nosebleeds, and they give you a good view of the field, with players already warming up. There is a large group of kids who hang off the rails, squealing in delight as their favorite players come and say hello and sign their jerseys and footballs. The speakers boom with music and commercial ads, the warm air carries the smell of popcorn up your nose, and your blood pumps in excitement.

It has been a while since you attended a football game, distant memories of sitting on your father’s shoulders as you both cheered in the stands. Since his death, you haven’t had the drive nor the time to attend another. So, to be in this position again with a man you are still trying to understand, it’s odd. But it’s not unwelcome and you’re going to enjoy every minute of it. When you watch football at home with your family, you’re a different person. You are loud and unashamed to express your feelings when you watch the games unfold. You stand up and sneer and bark at the officiant who can’t even hear you. You argue with your family about plays and players who will never know you. You love every emotion that the game brings out in you, and you’re unashamed to hide it. Toji is going to see a side of you that will either push him away or make him slink closer for more.

So, when the game begins with the kickoff, you join in the collective screams of the crowd, waving a towel in the air adorned with the yellow and black of your favorite team that is playing.

To your surprise once more, Toji did his homework. He effortlessly explains the rules as you both watch the first quarter together, looking to you for approval to make sure he’s correct. His attentive nature transforms into active participation as he cheers alongside you, his voice deep and booming compared to your screeching.

In the second quarter, there’s an injury on the field and the clash of pads ceases for long enough that fans leave their seats for food and to stretch their legs. Shiu and Rene disappear to get themselves a drink and it’s just you and Toji in the middle of empty seats.

“You’re a screamer,” he teases, his voice low and appreciative as he leans on his thigh with a cheek resting on his fist. His hair flows in the warm air before settling on pale cheeks.

“Too loud for you?” you retort, even if mildly curious about what he thinks of this side of yourself.

Toji purses his lips as he regards you with relaxed eyes. “It didn’t take me long to realize you’re not a dainty little thing. And besides,” A smile stretches across his face, white teeth glinting with a sinister disposition before his lips load with a remark you know will be salacious. “I like my women loud.”

You can be loud if he wants you to be. Preferably in another place besides your car where he can thrust like a man mad between your legs and dig those gleaming white teeth into the skin of your neck—

Oh.

For fuck’s sake.

Your blood simmers in your veins at the suggestion in his words. His eyes watch your throat when you swallow a thick pool of spit and that smile grows impossibly larger, a Cheshire cat looking at you with nasty intent. He’s too aware of the effect he has on women, and you have to look away from him to resist succumbing to the seductive charm that he wields naturally.

You steer the conversation back into your hands. “You were so curious about me when we first met but I don’t know much about you. Are you here in America for a reason? What do you do for work?”

In your own line of work, observation is key; every subtle cue from your patients holds significance, revealing layers of truths that they usually try to conceal. So, when you notice the tension in Toji’s jaw at your question, the way his features contort subtly, it’s a detail you slot into a drawer of curiosity that takes part of the file cabinet of Toji in your mind.

“I’m a private investigator,” he confesses harshly, catching you off guard. It’s a revelation you don’t anticipate. His imposing features give you the impression of a firefighter or maybe even a cop. Not someone watching others in his car, bugging houses and apartments, and gathering evidence. A PI? You open that drawer of curiosity again and slot away this information as well. He shrugs away the awkwardness that your silence brings, nonchalant and dismissive, avoiding your gaze. “It pays the bills. The hours suck sometimes but…the work is easy.”

“So…naturally I can’t really ask about the things you do?” you don’t hide the inquisitiveness that coats your words.

“It’s nothing glamorous enough to talk about.” And that’s all he offers you in response.

You have a myriad of questions swirling in your mind, each vying for attention from a man who is as tight-lipped as you. How did he even get into this kind of work? Who are his clients? Cheaters, embezzlers…or criminals?

That and so much more brew in your mind, tumbling over the other but ultimately dissipating when you sense his reluctance, evident from his still-averted gaze and tense shoulders.

“What about family? You asked me about mine, but I never got to hear about yours.”

Granted, you only told him about the members of your family who danced in your backyard when you both were wrapped in one another two weeks ago. He doesn’t know about the more intimate parts of your family life. He doesn’t know about your father’s death, or the estrangement of your stepfamily. But that can come later. Toji hasn’t given you enough of himself.

Toji’s features now morph into disdain, souring the air between you. The bright emerald of his eyes dims with a grayish overcast, the liquid of the irises hardening like cooling lava.

His response is terse, laced with palpable displeasure that intensifies the acrid taste in the air. “There isn’t much to tell. I don’t get along with them, and they do their best to not get along with me either.” The timbre of his voice is lower, menacing enough to let you know it’s a subject he won’t entertain. At least for right now.

You open your mouth to speak again, to maybe apologize for making him uncomfortable, to reassure him that you wouldn’t judge him over something like this. He shifts in his seat, clasps his hands together and absentmindedly picks at a callous on the side of his thumb. The pink flush on his cheeks is not one of bashfulness, but of frustration and embarrassment. From the sliver of his eyes you can see, there is something simmering beneath the surface that might take you a while to unveil.

“I do have a son, though.” The sentence shoots into the air and down your spine with a chilling clarity, breaking the flow of your thoughts as you blink in astonishment.

Pardon???

Considering he’s a grown man a few years older than you, it’s understandable. But the notion of him being a father never crossed your mind. The concept of children isn’t foreign to you; you see and take care of them every day. It’s the concept of children coming from him that’s a new development you have to consider.

While you believe you can handle a relationship with a single father, you’re upset at being told now, rather than before.

“You were with me all day two weeks ago and you never took the time to mention you have a son?”

You don’t hide your irritation. Once your trust is lost, it’s almost impossible to regain. Why would you give away sacred pieces of yourself to a man you wouldn’t trust to hold those pieces with care?

Despite your frustration, you rationalize.

Maybe Toji was nervous to bring it up? Some people may like to ease into such topics. This relationship, or whatever this is, is brand new and smooth. There haven’t been any cracks caused by arguments or behavior that is damaging.

But this isn’t about having a job that he’s not proud of or admitting that he is not financially responsible. This is about an entire child, a facet of his life that he cannot hide away. How long would he have waited to tell you if the topic of family hadn’t come up so soon? Would he have told you? Would he hide his son away and push him off to a babysitter on date nights so you are never aware? Would he sleep over at your house, so you can’t see the room that’s decorated for a child or the toys scattered about the floor?

As you wrestle with the growing anxiety that crawls across your skin, Toji fumbles for something in his pocket, his face a satisfying beet red as you watch him hand you his open phone. Bright from the illumination of the screen, you take in a picture of a young boy who bears a striking resemblance to Toji. His raven locks spiky and disheveled, his green eyes sharp and ethereal, and he wears a bored and calm expression just like his father. The chubbiness of his cheeks and innocence in his eyes tug at something in your chest; he can’t be any older than six years old. The sight of the boy makes you think of the many kids you take care of every day, and some of the frustration subsides within you.

“His name is Megumi,” he informs you, shy despite his rough exterior. He picks at the callous on the side of his thumb again, and one of his legs begins to shake in place.

The frustration dies down more. It’s a beautiful name, and as you look at the picture, a small smile tugs at your lips. You wonder what kind of a boy he is.

“Fuck listen—just I-I’m shit at this.”

You look up at him and take in the apprehension on his face. His lips are downturned in a gentle frown, the scar on the side of his face warped along with the muscles of his mouth. There’s a sense of shame in his gaze, and it somehow makes you feel relieved to know that he can feel just how upset you are.

“I don’t date women…I fuck them and stay around until they want me gone.” He doesn’t bother to sugarcoat his words. They shoot out of his mouth, piercing your skin with their directness. It’s a little painful, and you struggle to absorb his blatant honesty, feeling flashes of anger and indignation fill your chest as your lips part, ready to respond with directness of your own. “But you’re the first woman in a long fucking time that’s made me want more. So just…” he trails off, stuttering over what to say before ultimately growling low in his throat into silence.

You hesitate, lips flinching and syllables of fury dissipating in the small space between your top and bottom lip. “You gonna let me meet him?” you snap because you’re still mildly irritated as you give him his phone and pinch the muscle of his bicep with a harshness that reflects your fading anger and your desire to see him squirm for his actions.

He swats your hand away as if you’re a pest, moving his arm from you with a sneer that holds no malice. “No let me just lock him in my closet every time I want to see you—of course, I’ll fucking let you meet him.”

You throw him a withering glare, ignoring his sarcasm, and the smirk that slides onto his lips only makes you want to either smack or kiss him. The fact that you can’t decide on which only annoys you more.

*** Toji ***

“Gimme two hot dogs and a pretzel,” Toji mutters to the concession stand attendant. It’s halftime, and the walkways behind the stands are crowded with fans hurrying to go to the bathroom, or for more food and alcohol. You stand close to him, a welcome warmth that he wants more of but refuses to ask for on the off chance you deny him. He doesn’t feel like pouting for the rest of the day.

“And what’ll it be for the lady?” the attendant asks with a level of humor that is off-putting, a smile on his face that Toji knows you itch to smack off.

“It is for the lady,” you correct, a hint of condescension falling from plush lips that you still won’t let him taste. The attendant sputters, his face red as a tomato as he takes the rest of Toji’s order, doing his best to ignore the deadly glare you shoot him as he counts Toji’s money. A snort rattles from Toji’s chest as he watches you. He’s known from the beginning that you’re fiery, but seeing it firsthand fascinates and arouses him at the same time.

This environment is different for him, odd in every way, and a foreign ground that he’s unsteady on. The celebratory atmosphere reminds him of the loud laughter and fireworks from festivals that he could hear outside the Zenin compound throughout the year. He thinks of the Tanabata festivals he never got to experience or the years of Hanami that he was forbidden to enjoy. He could only take a small bit of pleasure in cherry blossoms in the Zenin gardens, blooming and scattering their petals on the well-kept grass to mark the beginning of the season. As a child, he was never allowed much. He was seen as ‘inferior trash’ that was insignificant and unworthy to be looked at let alone talked to unless it was to yell or belittle. Naturally, his family didn’t want others to see where said trash came from if they could help it.

He can’t think about it right now—he won’t. The thought of his family brings a tight coil of pain and anger in his chest, a coil he had used as fuel to cope with his dangerous decisions.

There’s so much more that he needs to focus on, like the fact that you’ve already taken a big bite out of one of your hot dogs. Half of it has disappeared from your hand, and there’s ketchup on the edge of your mouth as you chew. He notices the way you shift your hips from side to side in your seat, and the satisfied hum that escapes your throat. You’re satisfied, and while you eat with manners, you don’t hide your boisterous enjoyment, finishing one hot dog and moving on to the next, your pretzel wedged between the meat of your seductive thighs.

He’s been trying to be respectful all day ever since you denied him a kiss in the kitchen, but you’re tempting him. When you answered the door earlier in the afternoon, the hand that was in his pocket pinched the side of his thigh until the shameless thoughts could fade away.

You’ve graced his presence with shorts and a jersey, a yellow and black number that lays against your chocolate skin in a way that still seems to make you glow in the setting sun. No braids this time, your natural curls have fallen from your bun after screaming so much, framing your face and causing your gold hoops to wink at him. You didn’t wear makeup that night when he met you, so the sight of eyeliner on you today, and the way it accentuates the curve of your eye and the heaviness of your long lashes, it makes him shift in his seat.

He’s had to clench his jaw and bear the pain of his teeth grinding against each other to stop himself from ogling at the mouth-watering canvas of your legs. You’re all curves with dimples at the bottom of your thighs when you sit, and his gums ache to sink into the flesh so you can squeal and beg for him to touch you where you want it most. It’s been weeks since that night and he’s feigning for more. When you smile at him or shoot him a glare, it reminds him of that commanding aura you had in the backseat of your truck, and the back of his neck prickles with sweat.

While the thought of you skinning him alive if he decides to be a Neanderthal turns him on, he wants to be civil. In your kitchen earlier today, you allowed him to get close enough to feel the heat radiating from your skin, to catch the scent of coconut from your curls, tantalizing his senses until your firm ‘no’ sobered him up immediately. It was a stark reminder of who you are, and how little you tolerate.

He'll behave.

His eyes catch you guzzling down five heaping gulps of your beer, the foam coating your upper lip. You wipe it away with your finger, sucking the digit into your mouth, and popping it out completely oblivious to how sinful you look and Toji’s catapulted into that day when you sucked your own cum off his fingers.

He has to behave.

The vibration of his phone in his pocket sours his mood immediately, turning his gaze from your form as he digs into his pocket. It’s the third time it’s buzzed today, and he knows who it is. No matter how hard he tries to ignore it, he can only put off his job for so long.

Unknown: Good job on the assignment last week.

Unknown: Your pay should be in your account by tonight.

Unknown: There’s another contract for you if you’re interested. Message me back and I’ll send you details.

“Everything okay?” Your voice pulls him from his phone, and he meets your curious gaze, one of your elegant eyebrows lifting in question as you assess him. “Something with work?”

“Yea,” he replies and regrets it immediately.

Lie #1

It’s not a complete lie—it is work—but the details…

Toji takes a long swig of his beer, attempting to soothe the shame that washes over him.

You really are a screamer.

Toji sits back in his seat, watching you with a wicked smile as you unleash a torrent of colorful language that makes his cock twitch. Even though you roar with the crowd, your voice rises higher.

“That’s a fucking flag! I should come down there and officiate for you instead you stupid piece of shit!”

Your curls brush the skin of your cheeks that puff in your frustration, your arms folding across your chest as you cock your hip and growl beneath your breath. You’re easily the loudest one in this section of the stands. Rene revels in it, egging you on by rooting for the opposite team and giggling when you bark at her. Shiu is content to watch the display, a fresh toothpick in his mouth and an arm over Rene’s shoulders as he idly twirls a lock of hair at her nape. You’re all yelling and sputtering indignation as you watch the game unfold, your team losing by what Toji has learned is a touchdown.

He knew this side of you was there. He could tell in the weight of your gaze that night. It's a side of you that he did not expect to see so soon. He soaks it in. He takes in the way you cuss out the man three rows down who won’t stop glaring at you. He absorbs how high-pitched the screech of your voice makes his eardrums shake, and he revels in the smile that forms on your lips when your team scores the game-winning touchdown.

When there are lulls in the game, you tell him about your career. You’re a pulmonary pediatric fellow at a hospital here in town that’s only a year and a half from completing your fellowship. You smile when you talk about the kids you take care of and your associates at work. You’re proud of your research and of how far you’ve come.

All of it, every part of you that you show him, is comforting. Warm despite how cold you appear. It’s a comfort he didn’t imagine having…ever in his life—especially a dreary life like his. But he soaks up this—you—as much as he can.

When the game is over, you’re elated and giggling, tucked into his side as he guides you through the drunken crowd. The moon is high in the sky, and it bathes your skin and makes you stand out in the crowd. You look up at him, smiling softly with a buzzed gaze that’s two beers deep.

“Did you have fun? Not bad for your first American game?”

“You screamed the entire time,” he teases, chuckling at the way you gape up at him and then sneer before turning away. He throws his arm around your shoulders, using the touch as a safe territory to keep his hands to himself, and pulls you closer.

You demand cotton candy which he indulges in as well before you both part ways with Rene and Shiu. The journey back to your apartment is a quiet one. As Toji drives, the warm July air fills the car, mingling with the faint strains of classic rock playing on the radio. Toji watches with flickering glances as you hum along, your eyes closed and the breeze wafting through your curls loose around your shoulders.

Something inside of him rattles. Whatever it is, it’s long-forgotten and buried deep within him, surrounded by cobwebs and dust that have accumulated over time since that dark day years ago.

*** You ***

From the short journey of his car to inside of your apartment, you repeat to yourself that you have to take this slow, for your own peace of mind.

You keep the most intimate parts of yourself locked away and only those who are worthy of you have a copy of the key. But somehow, and in such a short time, Toji has stolen a copy for himself and slotted the key into the door. But thankfully, the door is caught against the wall, hinges rusted over and ungiving.

You have to know more about him before you let him in to look at those parts of you. If you jump the gun and give him more so soon and end up hurt, it will throw you into a depth of pain that you promised yourself to never touch again if you could help it.

“You have a good time?”

Toji’s voice breaks the silence, his arms folding tightly across his chest, betraying the restlessness in his hands. His messy black locks, tousled by the late July humidity, partially hide his emerald gaze, which flickers briefly to meet your own before darting away.

Your socked feet pad across the hardwood floor, closing the space between you, and your head slowly tilts to look at him. Despite his façade of composure, his scar curves against his lips in a slight twist, twitching as he tries not to frown. Thin eyebrows pitch down in frustration, and you catch the way his fingertips drum against the skin of his biceps. He’s fidgety—nervous. Is he upset with himself? Ashamed that he couldn’t take you out on a proper date with dinner and a movie like everyone else expects?

Hopefully, he will learn that you go against the grain of proper in so many ways.

“I had a great time,” you confess softly, noticing the subtle relaxation in his stance at your words. The thrumming of his fingers stop, the tension in his shoulder fades. “You wanted to take me out and I let you. That all you want from me?”

He’s such an expressive man.

His face twists, perturbed by your bluntness and the prospect of delving into emotional territory. “I told you already that I want more.”

His declaration sends a fluttering through your heart that is reminiscent of the feeling you had when he surprised you with a slice of yellow cake. It’s comforting, and you want to lean into it. But it’s not enough to overwhelm you. You’re still in your right mind and still aware of your expectations even though he captivates you.

You press your finger into the firmness of his chest, hard so that the muscle pillows around your digit. The gaze you shoot up at him is unyielding, serious, and menacing enough that he straightens his spine just a little.

“Listen to me, because I’m only going to say this one more time. I don’t do situationships. I don’t do friends with benefits or the occasional hookup. I’m not saying things need to be serious with us but…you need to show me that you mean it.”

As you speak, you assess Toji, who shows no signs of amusement or ignorance. His posture is rigid, his back ramrod straight, and his deep green gaze locked onto yours.

“That night we had was great. I won’t deny that but…I won’t compromise my expectations and I don’t tolerate bullshit. I’m not going to let you fuck me just because we did it before. You want more? I want you to try. Earn me.”

You relish in the way his eyes widen, contemplating your words and the severity beneath them before his face smooths back into its usual cool demeanor. He unfolds his arms from his chest, and you curse inwardly at the way you immediately watch his shirt stretch across defined pectorals.

“You know you’re a feisty little thing.”

Heat from the way he speaks and annoyance at his lack of attention flare within you like wildfire. You open your mouth to yell, to bark at him to be serious, but the sound of his laughter extinguishes that fire inside of you instantly.

He doesn’t offer an apology for his comment and you don’t need one. You know you’re feisty and steadfast. It’s the only way you can function around men to survive, to stay afloat and still have a grasp of who you are. And if Toji couldn’t handle it, you definitely wouldn’t have slept with him or entertained a date that you thoroughly enjoyed.

“I’ll try,” he finally offers, voice soft but filled with conviction. Normally the small remark would offend you, but surprisingly coming from Toji, it’s enough.

Observing his behavior today and a little bit two weeks ago, you note his acceptance of your quirks and individuality—at least the bits you allow him to see. He marveled at the amount of food you ate and joined alongside you. He let you babble to him about every single player on your favorite team and how many championships they had won. He let you display your strength in your voice and personality, didn’t try to control or overshadow you like so many other past experiences you’ve had before learning how to rule the men in your life.

He let you be yourself.

And that thought makes you finally open your mouth to give him something he had asked for earlier, something you had previously denied despite your own desires.

“You can have your kiss,” you offer with a shrug, feigning nonchalance even though your heart picks up in speed as the implication registers on his face. “So you better do it right.”

It’s an invitation that he snatches away from your imaginary hands and tears open with thick fingers, greedy and growling with finality.

His sharp gaze traces the contours of your body, unabashed in its appraisal, leering at the pieces of skin visible to him. You know he’s been looking at you all day, but his observation now is intense, heavy and without reservation and you’re fumbling from the sudden rush of longing that pumps hot through your veins.

Toji inches closer, your hands instinctively find their way to his chest, his towering presence overwhelming your small stature. His height ignites an evolutionary desire in you that makes your mouth water, makes your cunt pulse with need beckoning for him to fill the mold he left inside two weeks ago. You’re still not used to climbing up the summit of him, so the air is thin once more, pulling the oxygen from your lungs and stuttering in your chest when a large hand cups the side of your neck and tilts your face up to him like an offering.

When his lips slide against yours, your fingers in his shirt tighten. His touch singes the ends of your nerves, boils the blood in your veins that pump fast throughout your body. Your skin is burning, searing when muscular arms hoist you up and wrap your legs around his thick waist before your ass is sliding on the cold marble of your kitchen counter, your lips still sealed against his.

There’s so much of this that feels like that night at your uncle’s. So much and yet not enough.

He drowns you with his touch, digs his fingers into the plump flesh of your thighs before yanking you, hard and with unforgiving impatience, closer to his body. The fabric of your jeans rubs too harsh against your wet panties, digs against the sensitivity of your clit and you repress the insatiable yearning to roll your hips against his.

Toji’s large hands slide up your body, traversing the mesh of your jersey that hugs you before cupping each side of your face again to tilt you sharper in the way he wants. Blue raspberry from the cotton candy you both indulged in after the game coats his tongue that licks your bottom lip in a silent request for entrance, and you grant him access, surrendering a whimper into his mouth as his tongue slides sinfully against yours. Tastebuds kiss your own, slide against them with whispered promise of satisfaction if you just relax and melt further into him. Just a little.

But you can’t, god you can’t.

You’re losing control and you have to stay strong. You have to stay above the waters of logical thinking even though you’re sinking with every stroke of his tongue, with every sweet, hot breath into your mouth, with every inch of flesh that your fingers dig into his chest because you need more. More than a kiss, more than what he’s offering, and you know he can give it to you. Toji can pull you into the inferno he’s raging inside of your body until your clothes are scorched off and his skin is sliding against yours sweaty, sticky, and undulating with every roll of his hips.

But he doesn’t give you more. He doesn’t pull you further into that fire.

The intensity of his kiss dies down slowly, his lips pulling away from yours with a wet smack as you pant along with him. Toji kisses your lips once, then twice, nips your bottom lip to seal everything he’s given before smirking down at you. Too devilish and arrogant and you don’t have a working brain cell in your head right now to correct him. His hands that cradle your cheeks slide down to your upper arms, giving them a gentle squeeze before he speaks.

“You still gonna let me be nice to you?”

His words are an echo of that night, his own way of telling you that he’s here. That he wants more—that he wants to give you more. You just have to let him.

With your head still swimming and the pulsing between your legs refusing to calm, you want him to be more than nice right now. But remembering the boundaries you have set, you nod instead and sigh into him when he kisses you one last time, sweeping his blue raspberry-flavored tongue against yours before pulling away, acting as though it’s nothing, as though you’re not sweaty at the small of your back and trembling with desire.

“Lock the door for me,” he commands, words devoid of a questioning tone, but filled with a sense of security and protection that you lean into.

“O-okay,” you manage to breathe, your heart slowing back into sinus rhythm, only to jump again as he places one final kiss on your lips, then your nose. You frantically bat him away before you lose consciousness, because any more and you’ll drag him into your room and disregard everything you said five minutes ago.

You watch him saunter away, pull his keys from his pocket, and twirl them in his hand before winking. “I’ll text you.”

It sounds so ridiculous coming from his lips, from a grown man who looks as if he doesn’t even know what a cellphone is, let alone a text message.

But it still makes your heart jump all the same.

You can only nod in response because your throat is too dry and heavy in the back of your throat with each swallow you take. You follow him to the door and roll your eyes at his annoying smirk before he closes the door behind him, casting your apartment into silence.

Your fingers wobble as they turn the locks of your door into place. You’re lightheaded, brain flitting through salacious memories of what you both did weeks ago and what you could easily be doing now.

You throw your back against the door and sag to the floor with an annoyed sigh.

*** Toji ***

Unknown: There’s another contract for you if you’re interested. Message me back and I’ll send you details.

Toji: I’m interested. Send me what you have.

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