#holds the same meaning but it sounds more natural coming from her. she is a lady of few words | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rachalixie · 3 months

Text

my love, mine all mine

a/n: happy valentine's my angel @astraystayyh and my star @forlix <333 (this is not my best work but be kind to me i wrote it in a rush because i wanted it to be READY FOR YOU TODAY)

hyunjin setting up the perfect valentine's day for you

warnings: fem!reader, 2.3k

genre: fluff, est. relationship

you wake up on valentine’s day the same as you do any other day - a little grumpy, a lot tired, and above all wanting to close your eyes for just a few more minutes.

it takes you longer to admit to drag yourself into the shower and get dressed, but you give yourself credit for doing it before noon; you weren’t a morning person by nature.

you didn’t feel any particular way about valentine’s day - you’ve never had a valentine, never been in a serious enough relationship to where you felt it needed to be celebrated. you had whispered this to hyunjin a few days ago, cuddled into his chest at night, but beyond that you hadn’t really thought about it much.

it seems that hyunjin had, though, seeing as your living room floor was covered in red rose petals. a single, small. pink gift bag sat on the coffee table and you couldn’t help the jaw-aching smile that you were wearing. there was no sign that he was still there, his shoes were absent at the door and the absent-minded humming he habited wasn’t reaching your ears. he must have used the spare key to come in and set this up before work, and the idea of him coming over to do this and letting you sleep in on your day off was so sweet you thought you might get a toothache from it.

you walk to the center of the room to open the gift, on your tiptoes to avoid stepping on the sweet smelling petals scattered on the carpet. your mouth drops into an O shape when a single piece of paper is revealed at the bottom of the bag.

put these coordinates into your maps, it reads, and you frown in confusion. you do it, and an address pops up that you’ve never seen before. you assume he wants you to go there, but why? he was at work, wasn’t he?

your short walk there leads you to a coffee shop just a few blocks away from your apartment, a small family-owned one that you had been meaning to try for weeks. it’s cozy, with paper hearts and flowers decorating the place and chalkboard menus advertising sweet sounding valentine’s lattes.

“this is for you,” the server at the counter tells you as you approach to order, holding out a paper cup and a neatly folded paper bag. you take the items from her, inspecting them carefully. the cup has earl gray tea latte scrawled onto its side, and the bag contains a mouth-watering pastry dotted with bits of almond and chocolate. what is this?

“how much do i owe…?” you look back up at the server as she turns to return to stocking the pastry case, and her ponytail swishes as she faces you.

“it’s taken care of,” she winks at you, smiling. “someone really loves you, huh?”

“yeah,” your heart swells as you take a seat in the corner of the shop to enjoy your breakfast. “he does.”

you sip on your tea slowly, people watching as the thought of hyunjin rushing here after stopping at your place to give them your order warming you from the inside out. an elderly couple comes in next, hand in hand as they place an order. a young man stops by, holding a bouquet of flowers and blushing as he asks for two strawberry-chocolate mochas.

several people later, you stand up to recycle the cup and empty paper bag, walking out the door as you take your phone out to send hyunjin an aggressive thank-you text.

“wait!” the server calls after you, and you stop in your steps as she jogs to catch up with you. “i forgot to give you this.”

she stretches her hand out towards you, a small gift bag identical to the one you’d found in your apartment dangling off of her fingers.

“oh, thank you,” you say, blinking at the bag as she disappears almost as quickly as she came.

get in the car, it reads. you glance up just as a sleek black sedan pulls up next to you, the tinted passenger side window rolling down to reveal seungmin.

“what is this?” you pop your head into the window, sending a glare at him as if that would make him talk. if there is anyone who will keep a secret to the death, it’s kim seungmin.

“the note says to get in the car,” he rolls his eyes, unlocking the door so you could slide in next to him. “we don’t want to be late.”

“late to what?” you ask, but he ignores you in favor of turning the music up. it’s playing a song from your favorite artist, one that you know seungmin doesn’t listen to.

he rolls the car to a stop on a familiar street downtown and he finally smiles at you as he unlocks the doors again.

“we’re here,” he says, then exits the car to hop around to your side to open the door for you. “enjoy the rest of your day, madam.”

“what a gentleman,” you tease him, taking his hand as he helps you out of the car.

“for the woman of honor? it’s my pleasure,” before you could ask him what he meant by honor, he’s hopping back into his car and driving off.

this is weird. right?

he had dropped you off right in front of your regular nail salon. as you’re waiting by the door, conflicted over whether you should go in or not, one of the technicians opens the door, waving at you to come in.

“hi,” you greet her, “i was, well. driven here? but i don’t have an appointment.”

“of course you have an appointment,” she grins, white teeth flashing at you. “for right now. come right this way!”

she leads you to a chair, and your favorite tech exits out the staff room in the back and sits across the table from you.

“hi beautiful,” she says, and the familiarity of her tampers down the overwhelming feeling that had been creeping up on you. “full set, right? what color?”

“oh, i wasn’t really prepared…” you think of your dwindling bank account and grimace. “maybe just polish? dark red, though.”

“oh don’t worry,” she winks at you before getting her materials set up at the station. “it’s been paid in advance.”

as she gets to work on your nails, you can’t help the all-consuming rush of affection that surges through you. when had hyunjin had time to plan all of this?

you thank everyone profusely once she’s done, marveling at your new set of nails. you’re not as surprised this time when the girl who had waved you in earlier hands you a small, now familiar gift bag.

the next stop leads you to a hair salon, one that you’ve never been to if only because it was so expensive. designer products lined the walls for purchase, plush leather seats were placed in front of lit up floor to ceiling mirrors - it was like a palace.

you’re the only customer there, which surprised you. it was valentine’s day, didn’t others want to get their hair done too?

you couldn’t complain though, especially when the hair stylist asks you what you wanted done and listened to you with rapt attention. the lack of anyone else there was a welcome surprise.

the stylist washes your hair, the water she uses somehow the perfect temperature for you. her fingers move in expert motions, relaxing you and making you melt into the chair.

she walks you over to her station and gets started on blow-drying your wet hair, and man approaches with a basket full of makeup. he wordlessly brushes it on, making gentle swiping motions across your eyelids and cheeks that almost feel like hyunjin’s eyelashes fluttering against your skin.

they work in amazing synchronization, so in tune with one another that you’re a little overwhelmed by the time they finish.

“you look divine,” the man compliments, high-fiving the hair stylist over your head.

“like a princess,” the woman nods, turning you towards the mirror and - oh. you do look amazing, soft waves framing your face and neutral tones accenting your eyes.

“thank you so much,” you gush, marveling at how the blush and highlight adorning your cheeks turn brighter when you smile.

“it’s our pleasure,” the makeup artist replies, patting your shoulder. “you were wonderful to work on. come back anytime.”

“let me guess,” you can’t help the smile from leaving your face. “it’s taken care of?”

the man nods as the hair stylist hands you the gift bag you were already expecting.

this time it tells you to cross the street, and a quick glance shows a small row of shops. there’s a tiny number scribbled on the corner of the slip of paper, and it matches up with the number on top of one of the shops. it was a small boutique, less flashy than any of the places you've been directed to all day.

this stop is more of a quick affair, a young girl greeting you like she knew you and ushering you into a changing room where a shoe box is waiting on a stool and a garment bag hangs on a hook. you unzip it to reveal a beautiful red dress, flowy fabric falling like waterfalls off of the hanger.

you put it on and it fits you like a well-worn ring, complimenting your figure like it was tailored specifically for you. the heels are a perfect fit too, and you almost feel like cinderella waiting to meet your prince. the girl is waiting outside when you step out, and you feel the urge to hide from her when she fixes you with a scrutinizing look.

“how do i look?” you ask her, and her face breaks out into a beam towards you.

“you look phenomenal,” she gushes, twirling you around so she could see every angle. “he chose so well, the dress compliments you perfectly.”

“my clothes?” you turn back to get them, but she stops you with a hand on your elbow.

“don’t worry about them, they’ll get back to you,” she walks you towards the door. “he’s right next door - don’t be late!”

you take a deep breath as you exit the shop, your fingers wringing together with unexpected nerves. why are you nervous? hyunjin had created the perfect day for you - finally seeing him would be the icing on the perfect cake. you push through the nerves as you push open the door, and you cant help but gasp in wonder when you take in the interior.

it looks like an abandoned storefront, remodeled to make a whimsical scene. there’s strings of fairy lights lining the brick walls, creeping around green vines that make the space look like something out of a storybook. rose petals, the same ones from this morning, line a trail towards a small table in the center of the room. candles shone on top of it, two glasses of freshly poured wine glinting in the firelight, and next to the table is a man who’s been waiting eagerly.

it’s hyunjin, standing tall with a deliciously fitted suit framing his body and a single rose held in his hand. you walk towards him, your heels clicking on the floor as you try not to trip in your rush to fall into his arms.

“you did all this? the whole thing?” you ask, willing the tears to stay in your lids as to not mess up your freshly done makeup. out of all the things you’ve done today, getting to stand in the circle of his arms is by far the best part.

“of course i did,” he rubs a hand up and down your spine, letting the tips of his fingers trace across the zipper there. “i wanted to make this day perfect.”

“i loved it,” you pull away to look him in the eyes. “i love you. i would have loved it if you showed in sweatpants up with takeout too.”

“i know,” he looks at you with an overwhelming amount of fondness brimming in his eyes. “but you’re special. i wanted to do something that showed you how special you are.”

“you’re a real life prince, did you know that?” you lay a light smack on his chest, so overfilled with happiness that you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“well, if i’m a prince,” he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek, then to your forehead. “then you’re my princess.”

he pulls something out of his pocket and fastens it behind your neck, and you look down as a light weight settles between your collarbones. it’s a necklace, a dainty H hanging off of a chain, a single stone nestled in the middle of the pendant.

“this is too much,” you pout, much too pleased to actually throw a fuss. you know he loves you, and you know how he loves.

“nothing is too much when it comes to you,” his voice is fragile and honest, and you can’t help but kiss him, giggling when you pull away and he chases after you.

he holds out the chair closest to you and pushes it in for you, dashing to the other side to sit down himself. he drops his hand to the table, upturned with his fingers splayed, and you take the message to intertwine your fingers with his as you take a sip of the sweetest wine that has ever touched your lips.

he doesn’t let go of your hand for the entire night.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids #skz fluff #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x reader

744 notes · View notes

neteyamsilly · 1 year

Text

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 5

summary ;; What could Jake do? How was he supposed to fight when he had no concrete opponent? PART 4 | PART 6 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; jake is so depressing here. i also took liberty with his character and the reasonings for his decisions in atwow, sorry in case if thats not how you see him LMAO happy reading 💞 please excuse my mistakes if you see any! ‼ I DONT TAKE TAG REQUESTS ANYMORE ‼

“One chance, Jakesuli. You will only have one chance. Use it well. Our Great Mother favors you, that we know. But this favor hasn’t been granted to you. It has been granted to my granddaughter.”

“I won’t fail.” Not again.

“What does failing mean, I wonder. Would you fail if you take her soul back from her happiest? Or would you fail if you let her have the peace our Great Mother has laid her into?”

“I will get my daughter back. This isn’t her time. If Eywa has given me this chance, then she thinks the same as me.”

“You will take that honor from her, then?” Mo’at was being cryptic, but Jake saw through the exterior of the neutral Tsahik into an exhausted, mourning grandmother. “She was the daughter of Toruk Makto, and he was her last shadow.”

It came back to Jake in a gut-churning realization, it was his shadow that had fallen over you from the light of the torches on the walls as you’d given your last breath. It was his shadow. “No,” he refused, adamantly. “She will get to achieve greater honors of her own than that. I won’t be the one defining her ending.” The last bead of your songcord having his name, Toruk Makto’s name, was supremely wrong to him. He would not accept this fate for you.

“Very well, then.” Secretly, she was pleased with him. With his answer. “Get going. As I said. One chance.”

Jake would never be able to get used to the magnificence that was Vitraya Ramunong, or, the Tree of Souls. To him, Pandora itself was a marvel already too good to be true that he’d fallen in love with, and abandoned his own race for, there was no getting used to the beauty for a human like him who’d only found it once in neon lights, ever. He could reach the end of his natural lifespan in this body and still there would be much left to discover. That’s why Jake was more vulnerable to one of the beating hearts of Eywa in the shape of a giant, glowing willow tree.

No Na’vi was immune to the soul-purifying, all-consuming, yet being-dwarfing peace enveloping one’s very spirit, in a cradling hug as if they were nothing but a newborn in their mother’s arms. In here, only one fact mattered: they were childrens of Eywa, all of them dear, all of them seen, all of them safe and sound, including him, once alien to Eywa the way Earth was related to Pandora. Everything spoke to him here in a language he didn’t understand, but could respond to, again, in a language he didn’t understand, his soul doing the communicating.

Jake was also a child here, Eywa’s chosen child.

And he had come to her door for the most difficult request of his life, feeling like he was asking his mother for money right after he had crashed their car, unable to look her in the eye and expecting the biggest of scoldings for his shamelessness.

This was nothing like asking for her assistance against the sky people, back then, he had agency, power, the clans backing him up, Toruk. If Eywa didn’t hear him, he would fight until the last drop of blood in his body was spent anyway, he was ready.

Now, he had nothing.

Nothing to offer in return, not one concrete reason as to why he should have his daughter back other than being a desperate father with nowhere to return to other than the mercy of the Great Mother. He just wanted his child. Nothing mattered.

Not how and why Quaritch had spawned right under his nose with an avatar body, not how they could even slither in without detection, not the threat of what the sky people could bring upon their heads with that — nothing, not now. Nothing mattered until he saw this through.

Jake had found the will to quite literally tear himself from your side like nail from flesh only when you’d stabilized enough. Stabilized, as in, the faintest rise and fall of your ribcage Neteyam had to stare from where he was sitting like a sentinel for a full minute to spot, a tideless, still ocean only moving with whiffs of wind, his own breathing unnoticeable — to match yours, or to silence the sounds in his own body to hear better, Jake didn’t know.

No sky person was allowed to take over from Mo’at and Kiri. Norm had told Jake none of this made sense, if the bullet had nicked the bowels enough and the dirt leaked into the bloodstream, the possibility of sepsis was eventual, and if it didn’t, you had bled too much anyway, a blood transfusion was necessary, and the internal organs... — Christ, the amount of bad end scenarios Jake had been subjected to was as if they were telling him to open a grave for you anyway. Tsahik had scoffed into their faces. The way of healing was something none of them would see, she had scoffed. Now ally, or not. You can’t fill a cup that’s already full. Jake was in a hopeless need for water into wine kind of miracle, and honestly, he wasn’t complaining.

Leaving High Camp behind to set off on a journey calling for only him was one of the hardest things he’d done yet, the silhouette of you lying motionless, his family scattered around the tent, shadowed in their own mourning, folded into themselves was burned into his mind, glimpses of their pain visible from eclipses of light occasionally falling on their faces. A sight he never wanted to see again in his life if he could help it. It was a frosted, iron-thorned hand squishing his heart into ground meat.

Tuk, ever the stingy monopolizer, had brought her favorite toys to scatter around you because she thought they’d comfort you the way they comforted her, had tried snuggling with your unconscious body and was warned by Kiri only to hold your hand instead. She had taken to playing with your fingers, the depressive gloom of years beyond her age crooked on her. Jake couldn’t stand the sight of the little girl telling you bedtime stories he and Neytiri used to, for a moment only, he could pretend you were just going along with your sister’s whims and smiling with your eyes closed as you listened.

Kiri, buzzing around to change the bandage-leaves that soaked up some sort of sickly black colored puss every couple hours, had explained to him the salve they used on you was getting the infection and the splinters of the bullet they couldn’t get out of your body, which had turned the color of your blood into that — but the thing was, given the dwelling of the woodsprite in your mouth, they couldn’t feed you the porridge-like mix to speed up the process of blood production in the bone marrow, and she was exerting herself looking for some other way.

Before he’d left the tent for good, she had handed him the bullet— or, the biggest piece of it they’d taken out of your body, it was a mere pursed and shriveled, tiny metal. The exhausted girl had stammered when explaining that whatever they’d hit you with, had broken into shards inside you upon impact, creating severe lacerations and lethal hemorrhage that they’d worked tirelessly to pick out.

Jake had stared hollowly at it for the longest time. This small thing. It was such a small thing that took you from him.

The sentence that sent you away was also as small, and damning as this bullet. ‘Go.’

Kiri had seen it sink in his face, closing her five-fingered hand on his palm, on the bullet. “You should get going, dad,” she’d said. “We’re okay here.”

Jake had taken one last look. At Neytiri wiping your body to clean all the congealed blood. At Tuk holding your hand. At Kiri trying to fill in shoes bigger than her feet. At you lying down with trinkets surrounding you like funeral flowers. And forced his body to keep moving when all he wanted to do was stay.

He’d then heard Lo’ak complaining to his older brother outside the tent, “How can he be so cold?” The heaviness was getting to the boy, agitated and misapprehending. But he was always this way, if something was out of his control, the inability to act to change it manifested as frustration, blind anger. “Why is he so… unresponsive? Emotionless?”

Jake would have let it slide had it been about something else, but his children running their mouths not knowing he was a hair's breadth away from going clinically insane had gotten to him. He was burning alive.

“You think I don’t care, boy?” He emerged from the tent like some last boss, initially not caring he’d scared the brothers. “You think I don’t feel at all? My own child dying in the same arms I used to hold her as a baby — you think that doesn’t faze me?”

Neteyam, the mediator, or rather, the blame-taker, ran to his little brother’s rescue, the latter too flabbergasted to form any words yet. “Dad, he doesn’t mean—”

“I know exactly what he means.” When the anger subsided, Jake sighed with the weariness of an ancient man. The flames had died before they could climb, he was too exhausted for it. Honesty and trust, as Neytiri had said.

Having lost everything, having nothing to lose, and having a lot to lose were somehow simultaneously the same thing to Jake in the predicament he’d found himself in. “I know how you see me. You only know me as the person I want to show you.”

Lo’ak’s go-to answer was presented to Jake on a silver platter. “Sorry, sir.”

It wasn’t what he wanted to hear at all. Jake wasn’t trying to get Lo’ak to bow his head. “Don’t apologize—” He cut himself short, licking his chapped lips, and after rubbing his face, he’d put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Lo’ak. Son. I feel this, alright? Of course I do. I’m your father.” He shook him gently, feeling the words weren’t reaching him, who was just staring at something on the ground off to the side. “There’s no greater pain a parent can go through in life than losing his child. You can’t understand what this means right now—what it’s doing to me. You will only know when you become a father yourself.” He gently tapped Lo’ak on the chin so he would raise his head and look at him in the eye already. And when he did, Jake said what he said slowly, hoarsely. “But know this. Know I will lose myself if I lose you, or any of your siblings.” He turned to Neteyam as well, who was watching in full alert mode. “I’m fighting not to lose my sanity as we speak.”

Lo’ak swallowed, unsure and weirded out to hear something like this for the first time in his life. Jake didn’t blame him. He was never emotionally upfront or honest before, not even used to it, more awkward with it than his boys were. But none of that mattered. Not anymore, after what happened to you because of his shortcomings. “You just look so composed—“

“I have to be.” Jake shook his head, eyelids hanging heavy, his whole head was heavy. “I just can’t crumble under it, do you understand? I have to be strong. I can’t lose myself in it. Your sister needs me. You need me. To be strong.” He took his hands off the boy’s shoulders, putting a palm on his cheek and patting a few, fatherly times before backing off altogether. “Never say that I don’t care. Never. I might not show it—and it’s a father’s duty not to show it, so my family will have a stable anchor. Get what I’m saying?”

Lo’ak looked reassured, lighter. So that’s what Neytiri had meant. “How… how can I help?”

His youngest son’s inclination to get to the root of the problem and pump out solutions was in consanguineous with his inability to stop and wait, uncomfortable in his skin when he couldn’t do anything to improve the situation and was confronted with the intimacy of having to feel, always wanting to act. Lo’ak was like Jake in that way. Awkward when it came to communication. Dishonest with themselves.

“Stay here.” Jake said, right from his heart. “Stay safe. I don’t wish for anything else in this world.”

Lo’ak’s eyes softened, and as the father, Jake felt the renewal of the bond between them, saw the understanding in his youngest son, saw something else than the guilt and regret over being caught after mischief, for once. “I’m sorry, dad.”

“Don’t apologize.” He shared a meaningful look with him, trying to convey, again, his apology wasn’t what he wanted. Yet, his sons were defaulted to saying sorry half the time they spoke to him nowadays. Jake was understanding the severity of it, too much too late. Lo’ak nodded, ears tipped down slightly.

Then he turned to the eldest. “Neteyam—”

But he opened his mouth before Jake could say anything else. Ready. Always on his feet. “Yes, I will—”

Jake clicked his tongue. “Rest.”

Neteyam was about to say yes to whatever he was told to do, as always, but stopped right in the middle of it, voice catching in his throat, eyes blinking in confusion. “What?”

“Rest.”

“But—”

“Rest, Neteyam, I won’t tell you again.”

God knows he needed it. Neteyam looked like he’d been having night terrors for days, accumulated anxiety making him jumpy. “Sorry, sir.”

“Stop—“ Jake caught himself before he could raise his voice. “Why are you apologizing?”

Neteyam didn’t talk for a while. But when he did, he was looking up at him underneath his lashes, unable to keep eye contact for more than two seconds. “It’s my fault.”

“Bro,” Lo’ak said, a pitiful objection.

Jake knew where this was going. “What is?”

“I should have been there.” He pressed his mouth into a thin line before furrowing his brow, closing his eyes. Jake knew what he was seeing, repeated over and over again in his mind. “I should have known right away when I couldn’t catch up to her. I could have prevented it. It’s my responsibility.” One tear slipped by as he hung his head. “My fault.”

There it is.

Jake had told him before. “You’re the older brother, you gotta act like it.” — even though you and him were more like affable twins than older brother and younger sister that he never had to explicitly be a guardian to you like he was to Lo’ak, he had to be thinking this was his biggest failure. Neteyam was just reflecting what he’d been taught, the standards his father was holding him up to. Of course the boy had been overthinking it to the point where he was the catalyst to the event by not predicting your fakeout.

“No,” Jake rasped, after a beat. “This is on me first, and the sky people who got to her second. And that’s the end of the story.”

Neteyam, up until this point, had to bear half the blame, if not the rest of it, for the consequences of his siblings’ actions. Upon receiving this kind of answer, he startled with an incredulous gasp and full stare at Jake. “But I—”

“It’s not about you, Neteyam,” Jake explained, although the words were harsh, he had done his best to soften the impact. “I did this. Blame me, okay?”

‘How could I?’ was written in neon letters over the boy’s head even if he didn’t say anything. Too good-natured. He idolized Jake a lot more than the man deserved. “Mother was… she was… She is grieving, she doesn’t mean it.”

“You gotta stop making excuses for people, boy. Especially when they’re in the right.” A smile pulled on his lips, but died as it was born. “I pushed and pushed until we reached the edge, thinking there was never an edge at all. I should have known better. I should have been better. This is between me and your sister, and that’s why it is me who has to go to the Tree of Souls.”

And he’d left, but not before pulling his boys into his chest, cradling the back of their heads against himself, the smell of home repulsing instead of comforting. Prickles on his skin was the comfort he got from being able to hug his children when you were absent. It didn’t feel right.

He missed you dearly, an aching, gaping hole in his very being that only grew larger as he saw what you left behind half-completed or messy like you’d stood up and gone off for a minute to come back to it later —

The unmade pallet from the night of your Iknimaya argument that Jake had shed tears on when he’d seen the state of it, having the signs of someone getting up from it like you would be returning to go back to sleep any second.

The unfinished bark plate you had set aside to eat later and fought Lo’ak not to touch it. a squabble Jake had to break before you started wasting food by throwing it at each other.

The stack of fruits you’d gathered that you never shared except for Neytiri sometimes.

The half-carved cup you were working on because the regular cups weren’t big enough for your water needs and you didn’t like to refill it about three times until you were satisfied.

The incomplete anklet you were making out of rainbow beads for Tuk that was confidential to everyone but Jake, who knew from observing you, of course — you were missing a couple colors that you just couldn’t seem to find, nagging his head off to just let you roam around farther and there was no danger as the sky people couldn’t get in the vortex.

The little animal doodles you scratched at your side of the tent when you couldn’t sleep at nights, waking Jake up in the process every single time to listen until your breathing evened out as sleep retook you in its arms again, because he was bodily programmed to startle awake at one single rustle in his living quarters from his Marine days and fell into old habits after the return of the sky people, he knew you had developed insomnia from being uncomfortable at High Camp, longing for your hammock cocooned in the safety and comfort of the forest.

And the dumb romance novels you had taken from the humans that you, Kiri and Tuk giggled about at girl’s nights reading out loud, Spider invited as an honorary guest at times, just so you could tease Kiri about him and annoy your brothers that they weren’t allowed in, but the human boy was.

All of them had no owner now. Neither of your family members could look at them, your ghost would appear in precious memories beside your belongings if they looked too much. He didn't need to concentrate for a phantom of you to appear, you were everywhere he looked, and even now, as the gently pulsating lavender humming, a song from Eywa herself, right underneath the veinlike, labyrinthine roots was the cool summer rain on Jake’s sizzling skin, all he could see was your first communion with Eywa in his arms while Neytiri formed the tsaheylu, the clan spread all around them in celebration.

“You’ve called, and I’ve answered,” he greeted in positivity. “I think this is the most direct you’ve been with me in a long while.”

He didn’t know if it was Eywa or you he was saying this to. He genuinely didn’t know.

Kneeling, and putting his arms on the mossy, thick root, he looked up to see the woodsprites swaying and floating in the air. He reached for his braid, letting the squirming nerve-endings coil around the white-cored lavender thread closest to him, taking in the presence of Eywa, all around yet nowhere at all, but listening. No sign of you. Was he supposed to talk like this? Just like this? Was he not allowed to see you?

Jake had to admit he had been harboring the tiniest expectation of meeting you somehow, or hearing your voice through the connection like he did with a Tree of Voices when Mo’at had cryptically informed him of his chance. But this was it?

If he failed, this would be it.

“I guess this isn’t all that different,” he said out loud, instead of thinking inwards where the confusion flew. “It’s been like this for a while now, you and I. You talk, I don’t hear you. I talk, you don’t hear me. We throw the same ball at each other only for it to bounce back. Monologuing to a tree is the same thing, except it doesn’t talk back like you do.”

He looked up and around, there was nothing else to do. The air was the same as it always was in here. Always accommodating to what each Na’vi found comforting. “The last time I came here like this was to ask for Eywa’s help in the last stand against sky people. I told her I would fight either way, I knew that’s why she’d chosen me. All my life, all I’ve done was fight. Even when I wasn’t able to, I was fighting lesser battles with the excuse of not having anything to fight for. It’s all I’ve known. All I’ve ever done. It’s what I was best at.” His brow twitched, and Jake tried to keep his composure, not because he didn’t want anybody to see, no, it was to keep his shit together so he didn’t fuck this up. He had to be honest. His pride was the last thing he needed in his way at the moment.

“You were born to a different man. To a changed man. To a father who could let go because he thought his family was safe. You got to meet the man I used to be when my reason for fighting came back from my star. I know you don’t like that person — you can’t — couldn’t get used to him. I know.”

From the discomfort, his fingers dug into the moss first, and found the bark of the root, his fist curling on it next. “But I had to keep fighting.” He softly brought his fist back on the root. “The strong prey on the weak, that’s just how things are. That’s how I had it on my star. And my kids — you, you are weak, and it’s not an insult — it’s not me criticizing, Jesus, you are just children, and there’s a war on your damn heads. That’s what I mean. That’s what I’ve always meant. It’s natural that you are weak, Eywa was kind enough to let you be soft. Not Earth, though, never Earth.”

Jake had to clench his teeth and bite the anger into the inside of his mouth to not be boiled alive — not to let it reach to your side. He let out a soundless snarl. “You would never be ready for the cruelty of Earth, I would never wish that upon any of you. But it was brought to you. Right at your doorstep. I couldn’t protect you from it by hugs and kisses. You wouldn’t be safe from a gun extended to you by extending a branch in return. No.”

He reached and caressed the glowing thread, brows furrowed. “I did what I thought was right to prepare you. Every single one of you. I was making you tough. I had to. To protect you. And of course there would be clashing along the way, it’s what happens between parent and child. We fight. We fight like cats and dogs for dominance. You try me to show strength. I stand my ground to let you know you gotta do better.”

He had fired those sentences with incoherent speed, and when he got to the end of it, Jake got choked up. Stopped for a moment, took a breath. Blinking several times, his tone became vulnerable, he didn’t have anyone in front of him, but he tore away his gaze anyway. “Somewhere along the way, things just… Without me noticing, everything…” He sighed through his nose, his voice nothing but a whisper. “I fought more battles than I fought for my family. I thought I was doing my job as a father when I didn’t even know shit about being a father.”

A couple seconds floated by, and his gaze was stolen by a lone woodsprite descending down until it staggered on the fist he had against the root. The shine of it reflected from the mistiness of his eyes. His lower lip slightly trembled at the thought of it being you. This little woodsprite. You?

“The thing is, I’m lost, sweetheart,” he admitted quietly, small, shaky, not taking his eyes off the woodsprite. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I sit here, I look back, and think why I keep fighting. We could have migrated. Looked for a new Hometree. Another forest. Left the humans alone. Or made peace. A treaty. Something. None of your lives had to be sullied by war. Yet I chose this. I chose to fight, as I ‘ve always done, because now I had something to fight for. And the fighting wasn’t limited to them, I fought Neteyam, I fought Lo’ak, I fought you, my own kids, and I didn’t even know.”

He reached for it with his other hand, tentatively, scared that it would fly away with the slightest contact. But he was able to touch the top of the woodsprite ever so slightly, the little zap making all the hair on his body stand up. Jake swallowed thickly, his whole head on fire. “I don’t know what to do. I just miss you. I miss you so much, sweet girl. I wish you would scream at me. Say you hate me for all I care. Anything. Hate me until the day you die, but do it with all of your family surrounding you in old age, in peace. I would be content knowing you are under the same sky as me. But I’m forgetting your voice already, and I—” He held back a violent sob, hissed to not let it out, and groaned, getting angry at himself for the emotions. He shut his eyes tightly, willing away the tears. “I wish I could say these to your face. I wish I could see you one last time, smiling at me.”

Having everything to lose. Having lost everything. Having nothing to lose. Three different meanings had coiled around each other like snakes to become one singular outcome in linear relation of cause-and-effect through you. It wasn’t a cycle.

Having something to fight for. Having nothing left to fight for. Having nothing to fight for. You were everything. Everything. What could Jake do? How was he supposed to fight when he had no concrete opponent?

“I see you.”

The voice — your voice, albeit much, much younger, almost made him jump. When his eyes shot open, Jake was in a different location. He knew this place. The creek away from the village he and his family often frequented.

The twilight penumbra of the eclipse dimmed the shadows embracing the forest, but the ethereally glowing lights of all colors illuminated and got reflected from the water as if it was a mirror. Above and all around him were lazily dancing fireflies — or, rather, bioluminescent bugs he didn’t know the names of, tiny stars floating in the air like glitter. It was magical.

Jake realized with aching melancholy that this was the first time he’d taken you out on an eclipse to show you the beauty of the forest on a special father-daughter date. The exact memory.

The breath that left him was shaky as he felt the presence sitting right beside him, in the corner of his vision, he saw the ripples on the shining water made by swinging legs.

Jake froze for a second. Unmoving. Not looking at all — because if this was a dream, or a hallucination, he wouldn’t be able to bear it. His breathing got louder, more labored, the log underneath his hands was so realistically textured and damp. If he looked. If he looked, you would disappear. That’s how he felt.

He was supposed to talk. But now, his ribcage was holding the words hostage, burning with the strain of the pile-up.

“But I’m sad you don’t see me,” you said, and he was shaken by hearing your voice yet again, remembering the moment he found himself here, how he’d heard — ‘I see you’. “You don’t even want to look at me.”

So much hurt and vulnerability in that sentence that it left him breathless.

It all happened in a matter of seconds. Him launched into his own turmoil racking his brain about how Quaritch was back as an avatar, ignoring to look at you to protect his composure and just trying to think, think — think, of a plan, of a how, of what to do. You calling after him once Neytiri, you and he arrived at High Camp after dodging Quaritch’s men. Him purposefully walking away because he needed to cool off and not to explode on you right there and there.

That whole time, Jake hadn’t looked at you. If he did, he would have seen you needed help.

He shattered, all of his walls crumbling down, stripped down to bare despair.

“Oh sweetheart.” Before he knew it, he had wrapped his arms around you in a crushing hug, basically snatching you off from where you were sitting and on his lap, and your warmth, your pulse, your tangible existence wrenched a shiver out of him — and he buried his face to the little crook of your neck, taking your scent in, hiding his trembling face and the quiver of his arms by holding you tight. You were here. As your younger self, no older than eight, but he had you. Not bloody and battered in his arms, but alive, so alive. “Oh sweet girl, my sweet girl… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He kissed the side of your head, felt the real tickle of your hair against his face, blessed with the soothe of his child’s smell. “I see you. Of course I see you. I’ve always seen you.”

The snowflake-frail snivel followed by your sobbing sniffle broke his heart into pieces. “You’re a liar.” He shook his head, hugging you tighter. “You’re mean to me. You’re so mean to me.”

“I’m sorry.” That was all he could say. All he could do with his thrashing soul smoldering at the wetness of your tears on his shoulder. “I am mean. I’m sorry… You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“It hurt so much.” You wailed. “It hurt a lot.”

Jake began to caress your head with an awkward, clumsy, panicked hand, disturbed as to if you meant the moment of your death — at him pressing on the wound with all he had to stop the bleeding, or he and your strained relationship in general. “I know, sweetheart,” he said anyway, a stone clogging his throat. He didn’t try to explain, or tell you why, didn’t argue that it wasn’t what he meant to do. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He had you in his arms. “I know. I know.”

You wouldn’t get to be younger than this. And maybe, he would never get to see you be older, either. The thought crumpled his face like some piece of paper. Jake just wanted to hold you. And when you wrapped your little arms around him too, freely crying in his arms, a couple tears escaped his eyes as well, he didn’t know what kind of face he was making, perhaps it was better that you didn’t see him crumble.

In the middle of it somewhere, he realized that you were younger because it was your inner child that needed this, she was more honest — more open with Jake. It caused him to sway with you back and forth, ribcage hurting with each breath. And you let it all out, clinging to him.

“I love you, always,” he whispered, watching the bioluminescent bugs, when you were calmer and had fallen silent on his chest, not wanting to let him go and just listening to his heartbeat. “Even if I don’t show it — especially when I don’t show it. You are loved, my sweet girl, more than you know. More than you’ll ever know. More than I can show.” He looked down at the top of your head, agonized. “But I want to try. I want to show you more, moving forward.”

Knowing what he was insinuating, “But it’s nice here,” you said, voice thick and coarse from crying. You still didn’t pull back to look at him. Both of you, from the start of this, never looked at one another. Not once. Embarrassed and shameful to be honest, Jake thought. That pride you two shared. “You’re not mean to me here.”

But he needed to see you. You needed to be seen. So, as gently as he could, he unwrapped your arms around him, and took your baby cheeks in his hands, and looked you in the eyes. Another tear slipped from him. “You been listenin’ to me, right sweetheart? From the start?” You nodded adorably. You wouldn’t have said oel ngati kameie and accepted to let him see you if you hadn’t felt his true intentions and heart through him pouring it all out at the Tree of Souls. “I’m hiding a lot of things. But I want to be open with you. You wanna know the secret why I’m… mean?” You nodded again, more reluctant this time. “It’s because I’m scared.”

You gasped, genuinely lost and shocked, and he tried not to smile at the purity, the innocence. “You? You’re scared?”

“All the damn time,” he whispered, landing a kiss on your temple, his opposite thumb tracing a loving line on your other temple. “Every day. Every night.”

“But you’re Toruk Makto. You’re never scared.”

“I’m also a dad,” he said sorrowfully, as if he was giving out a secret. “And it’s precisely why I’m scared. I’m scared for you. For your siblings. Of losing you. It turns into anger. Anger turns into irreparable damage. Things I can’t take back.”

In the blink of an eye, you were back to your real age. For some reason he couldn’t quite grasp, you had shed the exterior of your childhood. But he didn’t mind, didn’t let you off his lap.

“Don’t be scared, I’m here,” you said, putting your own small palm on his cheek, upset by the fact that he was feeling like that in the first place rather than whatever explanation he had. Your response was also childish, but he leaned into your touch anyway, comforted regardless, even if you were already gone — for this moment, he could ignore that no, you weren’t here at all. “If you told us, we would have been more careful not to make you sad.”

Ah, he was being lectured on communication by his kid. It had a certain flavor of humbleness to it. Jake adored it nonetheless. “I know,” he said, “I’m sorry. I won’t be mean anymore.”

“That’s a lie.”

Jake couldn’t stop the laugh, though it was tottering. “Yeah, it is. But I promise you that I’ll never hurt you again.”

“That’s a lie too. Wasn’t it you who said not to make promises you can’t keep?”

“Alright, smartypants, let me rephrase it then,” the little glimpses of your brash self made him happy. “I will never intentionally hurt you, and if I end up doing so, unknowingly, I will always make it up to you. No exceptions.”

You were acting uninterested, but stole intrigued glances at him. “How are you gonna make it up to me?”

“I’ll let you choose, how does that sound?” Jake tapped your nose. “In return, if I don’t know and haven’t taken the first step, you’ll have to tell me outright what I did.”

You deadpanned. “But I always do.”

“No, you don’t.” He raised one of his eyebrows. “You become passive-aggressive when you’re annoyed and pick fights with me.”

“That’s not—”

“Sweetheart.”

“Okay, fine.” You huffed. The normalcy had made him forget just what he was doing here. “But you get angry.”

“What I get angry at is—” He cut himself off with a tongue click. “Not important. I do get angry. But at sincere honesty, us just talking it out, I could never get angry at that. Is the difference clear?”

“I think it is.” You were apprehensive about something, your fingers on his neck flexing as if you wanted to pull them back and break the hug. “But you have to promise.”

“I promise.” And then, Jake remembered, a new fire hardening his face, not in anger, but determination. “And speaking of which. I would never. Ever. Not in a million years would get angry or blame you for getting hurt to that degree — for others, humans, avatars, whoever and whatever the hell they are, hurting you, I could never get mad at you for it. Do you understand me? Your safety is the most important to me. I could never hate you for it.” His voice dropped down to a softer, gentler tone just above a whisper. “There is nothing in this world that’ll make me hate you. Nothing. I will love you through the most heinous crimes and in inexcusable deeds, you will find forgiveness in me even if there’s nobody left, that’s a father’s heart. Forever and always, I am with you.” He touched his forehead, and then yours. “I see you.”

You avoided eye contact.

Ah, yes, the famous emotional awkwardness. He was sort of aware his feelings had reached you, you just didn’t know what to say. Jake hadn’t been like this with you for the longest time. So, he decided to make you more comfortable. “Yes I will get mad at you for breaking curfew, and yes, we might stop talking for a while and beef about the dumbest things if the fight is too intense — but always, always come to me when something is wrong. I will drop everything without hesitation.” He leaned in a bit to catch your wayward stare. “Got it?”

You murmured. “Okay.”

“Are we clear?”

You murmured once more. “Yeah.”

“Repeat it, then.”

There was something between cringing and unwillingness on your face, but at his pointed look, you sighed, giving in. “Always come to you if something’s wrong even if we’re fighting.”

“That’s right,” he affirmed, encouraging to let you know this wasn’t embarrassing. “What else?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Dad will always love you.” He nudged you, noting the flick of your ears in happiness when he’d said it. “Come on, say it.”

You didn’t look at him when you said it, but your voice was light. “Dad will always love me…”

“Dad will never hate you.”

Sheepishness took over, making Jake smile. “Dad will never hate me.”

“And. Come talk to me about it if I’ve ever hurt you without noticing so I can make it up to you.”

“Always go to you if I’m hurt and you’re unaware of it.”

“That’s right,” in this form as well, he gave your temple another kiss, heart soaring at your beautiful smile he had been dying to see. “Good girl.”

“You’re giving me a lot of power.”

“Nothing my mighty hunter can’t handle.”

The smile on your face died down. It came to Jake right away what had gone wrong. “Sweetheart—” “I didn’t mean that. You know—” But you didn’t know. Jake had to stop trying to make it easier on himself. “I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of you. About everything. About the ikran, I’m so goddamn proud. I said it, and I can’t take that back, I was angry and I was trying reverse psychology — you know what, it doesn’t matter. But you are my mighty hunter. Will always be.”

You got confident a bit, but were still testing the waters. “Well I proved I am.”

“Yes, you did,” he rejoiced, no rejection or doubt whatsoever. “Message received, Lima Charlie.”

You giggled freely, joyfully at the recognition, and Jake ached again remembering how much he’d missed that carefree, precious thing, he swore pixie dust was in it. You slipped from his lap to sit crossed-legged beside him, and he instantly missed being able to hold you close. “Wish you were there to see me.”

“Me too, sweet girl.” Your Iknimaya was a disaster. A long-passed, sacred tradition broken wasn’t as important to him as it was to Neytiri — but he knew she longed to see you complete it, by your side, as eagerly as he did. And you had been alone in your pride, when he knew from a very young age, you had been the most excited for it. Everything had been ruined and there was nothing he could do to undo it. “Will you tell me about it?”

The phantom of pensiveness on his face hadn’t quite registered with you yet, getting excited to tell him all about it like nothing had happened the moment you knew Jake wanted to know. As if you weren’t dead. As if nothing was wrong. “Well first of all, I broke Neteyam’s record.”

A mournful smile tugged on his lips. “Did you now?”

“Hell yeah!” You started gesturing with your arms. “It took, like, two minutes? One minute? Too easy.”

“You know easy means the ikran didn’t give you much of a fight, right?”

“Or, or.” One finger was raised up at him to raise another option. “I was too skilled.”

“The ikran might have been meh about you.” Jake teased. “You sure it chose you? Or did you just chase it down and it was stuck with you?”

“That’s so wrong!” He threw his head back to laugh at your outburst. “He was watching me get there the whole time! Like, from the start. His eye was on me, I just know it. You’re just jealous you didn’t get Bob like I got Jack. I was badass.”

That made him pause. “Jack?”

“Yeah, his name’s Jack.”

He couldn’t imagine Neytiri’s reaction to the blandest name imaginable, oh god. “Why?”

“Named him after you.” You tipped your head at him, raising your brows. “It’s healing, you know. He listens to me without questioning. He’s also very sweet. Unlike a certain someone.”

“Oh you little shit—”

“I didn’t say anything.” Raising your hands in defense first, you crossed your arms on your chest next. “Certain someone can mean anyone. It can mean Lo’jack—”

“Lo’jack, really? Really?” Jake half-snorted, half-scoffed. “This a new one after Lovak?”

“Jackiri—”

“Jackiri is pretty sweet, c’mon now,” he gave a blank stare. “Hope you’re not gonna say Jackeyam.”

“Jacktirey?” You asked, undecided. “She’s an anklebiter.”

“Oh, for sure.”

“Could be Jack the Ripper, Bojack Horseman, Jack-in-a-box. Jack-o-lantern.”

“All people, of course.”

“Yeah, all people.” You snapped your fingers in mock-remembrance. “Hit the road Jack.”

“Oh wow, even him?” Jake lowered his voice, leaning towards you, mocking astonishment. “Legendary figure, that guy.”

“Jack of All Trades.”

“Well, that ikran really seems to be one to me.”

“I know, right?” You stopped, and he saw that thought process, and before he could open his mouth, you blurted it out. “Unlike a certain someone I know.”

“You punk.” Jake pushed you lightly by your shoulder. “You’re pushin’ it.”

You smiled with all your teeth at him, with hands on your calves, leaning down to act cute, and Jake could pretend this was normal. That he’d fixed everything. And all was right in the world now that you were laughing with him — he’d made you smile. .

But suddenly you looked scared, looking at something over his shoulder, shrunken pupils focusing on him and whatever it was rapidly. It kicked him awake from his delusion. He tensed, tail jumping upwards, straight as a rod. “What is it, sweetheart? What’s wrong?”

Your breath hitched, and the next thing he knew, you had pushed him away, and he was falling towards the water. The last thing he saw was only a blur of you — the bioluminescent bugs became shooting stars with a thread of glow left behind them, the whole world tilted, but he didn’t hit the water, instead, he rolled down the small slope he had to climb to reach the tree.

Disoriented, he saw the root was almost split in half — bullet marks, a cloud of splinters and debris was flying around where he used to be sitting.

A lone avatar just ahead. Having made it all the way to the Tree of Souls. He didn’t know where this man had come from.

Heart picking up and roaring in his ears, all Jake could think about was, One chance.

He hadn’t even spoken to you properly yet, hadn’t said all the things he wanted to, hadn't even gotten your word, and this man — this son of a bitch — humans had taken you once again.

Once again.

You will only have one chance.

“Lucky asshole,” the man looked at him behind the barrel of the long assault rifle. “Gonna make you pay for what you pulled yesterday.”

Your ethereal smile going up in smokes at the back of his head, Jake saw red.

taglist: @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis@alohastitch0626 @jackiehollanderr @lucciera @qvrcll @iloveavatar @velvtcherie @ssc7514 @goldenmoonbeam @neteyamforlife @itsluludoll @jakesullys-bitch @blubrryy @sully-stick-together @arminsgfloll @alice121804 @noname2246 @justthingzsblog @eywamygoddess @m-1234 @ellabellabus07 @hellok1ttycake @dakotali @bluefire12348 @abbersreads @yellooaaa @aimsro @octavias-next-meat-bite @nikqdn @nao-cchi @spicycloudsalad @yeosxxx @heybiatchz @winxschester @elegantkidfansoul @eichenhouseproperty @kakimakiloh @dueiosy @liyahsocorro @dimplesxx @tigresslily@n8ivatar @strnqer @lillybbyy @jakesullyssluttt @r3dc4ndy @myheartfollower @gcldtom @bunnyrose01 @aceofheartzzz @ghoulbli @slasherfcker505 @ducks118 @megsthings @graykageyama @gwolf92

@thotd-f1 @httpjiikook @nipoxe @fussel9913 @gloryekaterina @nxptury @thesheelfsworld @heyyitsmaiaa @anyasullyyy @rey26 @in-luvais @em-100 @n7cje @kpopslur @holysaladapricothero @dedicateeverythingtomilkshake @maviee @grxcisxhy-wp @me-marilm @n39ro-chann

#dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader #mom!neytiri x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader

3K notes · View notes

suguruplsr · 4 months

Note

what about this, Gojo comes out of the box and he’s buff, reader notices and stares at him (they’re in a relationship,) and first thing she does is like go up to him and just squeeze his chest and then it leads to smut😋‼️

FOREVER YOURS

,, x fem! wife reader , changed the req a bit , got rlly soft n’ sweet w/ small dialogue , fluff + smut n a bit angy , chest riding , unprotected sex , groping , not proofread well

maybe coming home to his loving wife, after nearly three weeks, was a bad choice. okay — not a bad choice, satoru thinks. but she obviously has her attention occupied elsewhere. considering he’s been standing at the front door for a minute, with one of her hands groping him. not even a hello?

“geez.. don’t even miss me?” satoru pouts, looking down at you. even after such a large change to his physique, the cute turn of his lips never fails to make you smile. “i do. you’re just a bit..” you try to squeeze the large muscle underneath the palm of your hand, scrunching up the fabric between your hand and his chest. “distracting, now.” your words make satoru grab your wrist, an offended look plaster on his handsome features.

“huh! are you saying i wasnt distracting before? that basically means i wasn’t attractive!” he huffs, frowning at the sound of your giggles. he picks you up effortlessly as you catch your breath, making sure the door behind him was locked before settling with you on the couch, “you were, and still are, attractive satoru~ you just caught my eyes in a.. different way.” you grin, adjusting on his lap as he leans back, head tilted down at you while he considers your words.

his silence allows you to properly gaze and take in the welcomed changes to his body. like the broad scape of his shoulders. how the arms around you could probably cover you in a snowstorm. your finger lightly trails his biceps, taking in the detail of the faint veins traveling among his skin.

but it only reminds you of time spent apart from your clingy partner. seeing the change that probably would’ve actually taken him longer than three weeks. it only makes you wonder about what could have possibly happened, or for him to endure, for such a dire transformation in such a short span of time.

“watcha thinkin’ bout now?” satoru smiles comfortingly, bumping his knee up and shaking you a bit. you sigh, falling down on his chest and tucking your neck in his neck. his natural honeyed perfume was replaced with a more heavy musk that completely fills your senses.

you sigh, “it’s nothing. i just.. i really love you.” you feel so emotional thinking about the time lost. voice breaking and sniffling a bit. satoru frown deepens at the sounds of your obvious solemnity, moving you to face him and holding you by your shoulders. just the look on your face makes him realize that you felt just the same as he did for all of that time.

“i love you too — oh don’t cry, look at you, all pretty n’ prescious. and that’s something that clearly didn’t change.” he gives a breathy chuckle, gaining your weak smile in return. you wipe the little tears that slid down your face, feeling his bigger hands join yours, your matching rings clinging against each other as his thumbs wipe the corner of your eyes. his fingers are thicker than before, you can feel stark roughness on them, different from how soft and slender they used to be.

“don’t get me wrong, i still love you how you are now. a dork like you never changes. it’s just that.. it felt like months, maybe even years, y’know? and seeing you like.. well, this. makes that possible reality seem more true in my mind.” you ramble, not meeting the eyes that look at you with so much love and so much regret. one of satoru’s hands falls to your waist, pulling you close while his other holds your face with a hand on your chin.

satoru presses his forehead against yours, smiling at you with soft eyes. “hey. hey, i’m here, okay? and i’m here to stay, always.” satoru whispers, and you nod against his head, blinking away your tears as his head tilts, lips locking with yours. you hum against his lips, his tongue intersecting between yours and soon you two fight a battle with the muscles.

his fingers dig into your skin, lips moving eagerly against you to the point where you’re gasping for breath, bringing your hands up to his sturdy chest and trying to push him away. but he doesn’t move, and a smile forms on his lips in amusement, giggling at your expense. “sato— wait, mm stop.” your meek voice speaks between kisses, head unable to pull away because of his grip on your face.

in the midst of the hot makeout session, you two found yourselves undressing, hands aching to explore all of the forgotten places of your bodies. his remembering all of the spots on you that have once owned a mark or two of his. while yours explores the new world of his body, pressing and grasping whatever you can.

satoru admires your figure sitting on top of his, holding your hips firmly as you take your time with his body. you graze your fingers along the escape of his shoulders, admiring how it looks with the sliver on your finger; that symbolizes everything satoru is in your life, slowly drawing to his chest and making his skin prickle from the sensitivity. “you’re still beautiful.” you whisper, eyes flickering up to him as he smiles, “hm? am i really?” he says breathlessly, licking his lips as you begin to rock your bare pussy along his chest. “yea. y-you’re so pretty like this..” your breath hitched, stopping the movement of your hand and bracing yourself to glide your folds along his abs.

he can’t even imagine how his beauty could compare to your when you throw your head back, body shaking from the stimulation of your clit rubbing against his skin. satoru thinks he could lay here all day, as long as he gets to see you adore his body, adore him. to watch you fall apart in so many ways that already has his dick standing tall in his sweats. as you ride to your high, small squelches of slick on his skin can be heard underneath you, sounds satoru hears all too well.

“almost there baby. c’mon, touch me s’more, i’m still yours sweetheart.” satoru speaks hushed, helping your weakening body move along his chest as your fingers fiddle with his nipples, eyes closing tight while you bite your lip. “o-okay.. satoru..” your quiet moans fill the big house as he presses your hips down to his skin, his gentle expression never changing when you gush all over him. you almost would’ve fell flat on him if he wasn’t holding you up, praising you for how well you did.

“let me take care of you sweets..” satoru lays you on your back, spreading your thighs and holding back a moan from the sight of your wet and creamy folds. you finally get a good look at the muscle in between his thighs. it's thicker than before, maybe smaller? but you know the girth will make up for it. however, it still stays true to its slender figure, curved downward with a tip so dangerously red, pre cum leaking and two veins popping on the sides. “go slow.” you whisper as your legs are picked up, him leaning down further to rest them on his shoulders.

“of course..” satoru mumbles, tucking his lip in once his tip meets your slimy folds. he’s careful to hold one of your thighs tight once you jerk from the feeling, his lips curling knowingly. sweet affirmations are whispered between the two of you as you take him in, both of you falling into your own world of love once he’s pushed to hilt, holding your hands with his head down to kiss away all of your cries. and soon enough, all of your screams.

love. a word that satoru lives and breathes. a feeling he used to have in his everyday life. an emotion he thought he’d never get to experience ever again. and a life that satoru gojo hopes to never leave, unless it’s with his love.

880 notes · View notes

notjustjavierpena · 10 months

Text

The Making of Ellie - Part I

A/N: This DILF!Joel piece has rotted my brain for 24 hours straight. I have had absolutely no break from thinking about this, and it’s never been easier to write something.

Summary: A look into how you and Joel’s relationship is going two years in. Joel’s POV on his never-ending love for you and his extreme baby fever.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), Joel’s POV, domesticated Joel Miller, Sarah makes an appearance!!!, tooth-rotting love and fluff, they’re crazy about each other, talk about birth control and ovulation, pussy eating (joel is a cunning linguist), fingering, bit of praise kink, dirty talk, bit of body worship, breeding kink, daddy kink (if you squint real hard), slow and sensual piv sex, intense orgasms, creampie, God they are in love

Word count: 4k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49183051

Song inspiration(!!!): Too Lost In You by Sugababes

Baby-Making

Joel comes home from work around the same time each day now — and it’s never after dinner time. He has made it his mission to make time for Sarah and you, cut down work since you moved in, because two working adults living in the house means that he can slow things down.

His health has improved, his mood too, his fatigue has practically gone and Sarah has had more time to just be a kid, started playing soccer again, and has even taken up coaching the little league team now that she’s 16. It’s good for him. You are good for him. For both of them.

He loves it. He takes the afternoon post-work ritual very seriously. Always texts if he should pick something up from the grocery store. Sometimes brings you flowers too, remembering that one time you’d said that you didn’t actually mind the cheap cellophane-wrapped bouquets.

It’s interesting to him how natural it feels for him to slip right into domestic bliss with you because he never thought that he would get there again after Sarah’s mother. On top of it, he never considered himself a gentle thing, but after you, it’s like you kiss the calluses of him away. He is nothing but gentle now, even in his roughness.

He throws the keys onto the side table by the front door after arriving home, shrugs off his jacket, and bends down to take off his boots. The sound makes you appear in the doorway. Joel notices that you’ve changed into gray sweatpants and a tank top with a strawberry on it since arriving home, basically removed anything from you that is professional and uncomfortable. Joel loves you like this because he is the only one who gets to enjoy you like this; relaxed and beautiful, hair in a messy bun on top of your head and fuzzy socks on your always-cold feet. He smiles at your radiance, then pads across the floor to kiss you hello.

There’s something in your eyes; a flicker of mischief as you grab his wrist to look at his watch. With a grin that nearly sets his heart into overdrive, you hold his hand up so he can look at the time too.

“It’s five minutes past,” you tut.

“Right, but I got ya something,” he says, reluctantly turning away from you to rummage through his jacket pocket. He fishes out a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup and you immediately snatch it from his hands, holding it close to your chest.

“Gremlin,” he teases and you stick out your tongue at him, “No needa hide it. ‘S too sweet for me anyway.”

“I shall save it for later then,” you walk to the kitchen and open the top cabinet that holds the mugs. You stand on your toes to reach into the very back, shirt riding up just a little, and stash the chocolate cup for later consumption.

“Hidden from Sa-rah, the candy thief,” you purposely pronounce her name wrong for dramatic purposes. Then you lower yourself onto the soles of your feet again, not bothering to pull your top down again. Joel watches the slight reveal of the dimples on your back.

“Right,” he chuckles.

Dear Lord, he loves you so much that it is ridiculous. In a way that makes the future look better than it ever has because it’s no longer filled with uncertainty. He knows what’s going to happen; he’ll build a house for the three of you, he’ll marry you in the Texan spring and he’ll give you as many babies as you want. He’d do it all today if he could.

“How was work?” You interrupt his thoughts by wrapping your soft hands around the nape of his neck, resting them there. You have rosy cheeks, feel warm against his skin, with love radiating from your fingertips.

“Good, told Tommy to handle the next few clients. Some hotshot guy comin’ into the office tomorrow,” Joel tells you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. He thinks that you don’t actually care about any of this, but there’s no indication of boredom on your face.

“He building a castle or something?” You ask.

“Somethin’ like that. Guy’s filthy rich but not from his own doin’, looking at blueprints at the end of the week. Should be interesting,” he continues, “Not that you care about that.”

“I do actually like hearing about your job,” you kiss him on the lips, peck them repeatedly until he cannot help himself and lifts you up to hug you tight. His arms rest along your back and his hands on your sides, fingers sprawled out underneath where your bra had been in the morning. You must’ve taken it off too. He loves you comfortable.

“You just love my hands,” he retorts, nose against your cheek, “Don’t deny it. I see right through ya.”

“It’s definitely not completely wrong,” you admit when he sets you down again.

You walk back to the kitchen, too tempted by the knowledge of what is in your kitchen cabinet. You only take half, proclaiming some bullshit that you have to watch out for your blood sugar since one can never know when it’s going to get you.

Joel rolls his eyes, following you, “I can give ya some sugar.”

“Joel Miller!” You pretend to look shocked. He tastes the peanut butter in your mouth, pushes you against the counter.

“Gross,” a teenage girl’s voice says.

“Oh right, Sarah’s home,” you announce sheepishly.

Joel pulls away to look at his daughter, “Hey kiddo. How was school?”

“You don’t care about that,” she smirks, “But if you must know, it was fine. No homework.”

“That don’t sound like Mrs. uhhh…”

“Green, it’s Ms. Green, Dad,” Sarah says dramatically as she moves across the floor to put on shoes. Her tone turns taunting, “Go ahead and make out with your girlfriend. I’m going to soccer practice.”

“Have fun, Sarah! We’ll have dinner ready,” you chime in.

“See ya, honey.”

The door closes behind her. The house grows quiet for a moment, but then the mischief is back in your eyes, “She’s seeing a boy.”

Joel nearly gets whiplash, not sure why his pulse spikes. He trusts his daughter to make good decisions and has taught her how since she was just a baby, “Nah, she ain’t. Just said she’s going to soccer practice.”

“Joel,” you sigh loudly, “It’s Tuesday.”

“So?”

“She has practice on Thursdays.”

“Christ,” he runs a hand over his stubble, tries to keep his composure, and ignores the urge to send her a text.

“But you know what?” You’re back in his personal space, tugging at his arms to make him hold you close again, “Such a fun coincidence. I’m also seeing a boy.”

Joel can feel the tension seeping out of him in an instant.

“Really? ‘Cause I’m seein’ a girl. She’s real pretty,” he wishes that he could show his past self how tooth-rottingly sweet he is being with you because he’d hate it. Though if past-Joel found out who he was treating like this, he’d instantly become a goner just like present-Joel is now.

“‘S her sweet tooth, unhinged behavior that I love the most though,” he continues.

You whine in his arms, lean your head back and it earns you a kiss on your neck, “Don’t be like that. Not when I’m ovulating. I’ll climb you like a tree.”

Oh.

It may seem innocent but Joel knows this is how you play dirty. It suddenly explains a lot. The sweatpants, the rosy cheeks, the way you glow, no bra, the cravings, why Joel wants you so bad.

Joel wouldn’t say that he is controlled by biology, and he hates the men trying to argue their way out of acting like cavemen. But looking at you right now in your stupid strawberry tank top, knowing that you’re horny and ready because your body wants to make him a daddy... Joel’s head swims.

Something shifts in the air. You can see it on him, but Joel assumes that you wait for him to act on whatever is bubbling up in his chest and below his belt.

And act, he does. He distracts you with deep, long kisses until he can snatch you up from the ground and carry you upstairs. You squeak out a giggle but don’t fight back, enjoying the freedom of being alone with him.

“That’s why you’re so fucking sexy,” Joel says after placing you on your shared bed. He is already shedding himself of his shirt, undressing hurriedly to get close to your skin with his own as quickly as possible.

You crawl back on the bed, untying the strings of your sweatpants and yanking them down your legs. You match his urgency, but still decide to tease him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Shut your mouth,” he yanks the rest of your pants off as soon as he is naked in front of you. He throws them in the pile of his own clothes, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, dirty girl.”

You’re just about to take your top off before Joel stops you with a hand curled around the hem. He knows you’re sensitive at this point in your cycle, but it’s not why he wants to keep it on, “I love how cute you are in this shirt. Keep it on like this.”

He crawls properly onto the bed to demonstrate and tugs the shirt up over your tits so he can still see the stupid animated fruit on the front. Afterward, he tugs your panties down your legs and off your feet. He will swear to a higher power that he can even smell it on you, sweet like strawberries and honey between your legs and it makes him feel like an animal.

He has had baby fever for a while now, even told you his plans on giving you a whole bunch of babies and you’ve merely giggled at him, especially when he told you that twins don’t run in his family, but he is sure that nature will give him a whole litter with you.

“Want me to eat you out?” He asks to which you whimper and nod. He doesn’t give you what you want right then and there, instead climbs up to cradle your head in his hands and gives you a long, slow kiss. He sucks on your tongue, hums into your mouth, and gets you worked up and wet before he’ll treat you right.

“Tell me,” he says when he breaks the kiss, nosing along the bunched-up fabric of his new favorite top of yours. He sucks at the skin between your breasts, places open-mouthed kisses along the swell of the left whilst cupping the right.

“I want you to eat my pussy,” you moan softly, running a hand over his hair as he licks a nipple. You slide your fingers into it, but you don’t tug at it unless you feel like you need to hold onto it for dear life.

“God, you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he growls before going further down your body, his spit leaving a shine where his mouth has been, “Can’t believe I own these tits.”

He goes further down, lets out a satisfied noise when he can see between your legs, “—and this pussy.”

“Yes, it’s yours, fuck, baby,” you sound delirious already, happy and eager to be touched, on the verge of a giggle even, “Joel, need your mou—“

You gasp loudly into the quiet bedroom. Joel has covered you with his mouth, eyes almost rolling back into his skull at the taste of your ripe cunt. He is too lost in you, a complete idiot with how head over heels he is for you, and he shows it by devouring you like he is starved.

“Baby!” You cry out, sensitive, “Fuuuck— just like that!”

He watches your thighs twitch in his peripheral, holds you down by placing a strong hand just below your belly button, and uses his thumb on said hand to pull the hood of your clit back. He sucks the little now-hard nub into his mouth, sending you into a state where he is unsure if you can even sense the sheets underneath you. If you had superpowers, he surely would’ve made you lift off the bed as if you were possessed.

He bobs his head a little, probably looking obscene as he hums against your clit and wiggles his head too. He looks up at you through his lashes, sees the red flush on your chest, and knows that you are close. Christ, he hasn’t been this into someone before.

“I’m gonna— you’re gonna make me—“ you say like always, announcing your departure from reality. He keeps going, feeling your stomach jump in a stuttering manner underneath his palm with how uneven your breathing has become.

“Fuck, I’m coming!” You sob with a yank of Joel’s hair and suddenly your thighs are shaking violently without your control. Joel can feel you coming before you announce it, your cunt clenching rapidly against his lips and your clit pulsing in his mouth as he sucks your folds into his mouth. You taste so good as a gush on slick smears his lips and chin even more. He laps it up.

You push him away when he gets too much, and he turns his head to kiss your inner thigh. You finally release the giggle that you’ve been suppressing, drunk on dopamine and Joel falls in love with you a bit more.

“You’re fucking incredible,” you say. The hand in his hair slides down so you can affectionately run your knuckles over his cheek. He responds by gently rubbing your thighs, soothing you on top of putting such strain on your heart and your breath. You hum, “I love you so much.”

Without warning, he smacks your thigh and you sit up straight. He grins, “Love ya too, sweetheart. Think you can give me one more before I fuck ya?”

“Jesus, what’s gotten into you?” You ask genuinely as you lower onto your back again.

“Wanna fuck a baby into you,” he replies, voice an octave lower than normal. He senses your shiver without having to look at your face, “Please. Wanna get her red and puffy so it fucking sticks.”

You let out an involuntary moan at the idea. You want this as much as him, he hopes, and he slides two fingers into your neglected pussy whilst he waits for the green light to fill you up. He crooks them upwards, fingers the spongy spot that only seems to have been discovered by him, “Lemme in. Lemme come in you.”

You’ve been off the pill for a while with the reasoning that it wasn’t doing any good for your body. Joel had stocked up on condoms since then, actually filled the top drawer of his nightstand to the brim because honey, we’re young and healthy, red-blooded Americans. But it had planted the idea in his mind that he could potentially knock you up, and suddenly the stash of condoms was being used rapidly.

“Okay,” you say with a half-moan, “Fuck, okay.”

Joel immediately sits up on his knees, still fucking you open on his hand. You squirm underneath his touch, trying to get a hold of your breathing this time, holding eye contact with him as he drags another orgasm from you.

It is much less hurried and a lot more intense, muscles clamping down on his digits rhythmically as you bite your lip and close your eyes with a soft gasp. He can’t decide if he finds this more sexy.

“Did you mean it?” He asks as he trails kisses up your belly. He kneels between your legs and places an elbow on either side of your chest so he can hold both your breasts in his hands. He squeezes them together, sucks on a nipple until you sigh deeply, and then watches them bounce back into place.

“Yes,” you say and your voice doesn’t sound unsure at all, “Fuck yes, I want your babies. Wanted them since I saw you. Want you to make me a mommy.”

“The prettiest momma out there,” he says, euphoria evident on his face. He slides his arms underneath you, rests his head on your breasts, and hugs you close to his chest, “Wanna fuck ya.”

“Please,” you say softly, spreading your legs open for him but he has other plans. He releases you from his arms to sit up again, spreading his knees a little. His hands wrap around your ankles to lift your legs up onto his shoulders, your feet behind his ears. He leans over you afterward and bends your flexible legs backward until the front of his thighs are against the back of yours. He can go deep like this, fill you up with his come how he has wanted to for months.

He takes hold of his cock, eases it inside of your spent and warm cunt inch by inch. You feel incredible around his dick without a piece of rubber separating the two of you. He can feel the head of his dick nudge at your cervix, moaning quietly as he is engulfed by your wet, pulsating heat.

“How are you still so fucking tight?” He groans, resting his forehead against your calf as he gives you a moment to adjust to the stretch. He knows he is big, gets a thrill out of how well you take him each time as if you were made specifically for him. There had been one time where he’d called you a trooper, and you had laughed so hard with his dick inside you that it had made him come.

“You feel so big like this,” you say as you look down between the two of you, already sounding out of breath. Joel kisses your calf repeatedly and softly, trying to soothe your overwhelmed body.

“Goddamn. You’re so sexy,” he praises, placing both hands on the sides of your head so he is hovering above you. He finds your hazy eyes, “Look at you.”

He gives an experimental roll of his hips that makes you whimper, both hands reaching for the backs of his knees. You hold onto him, staring up into his eyes with that siren-like look in them, and then you moan softly.

Joel starts fucking you desperately at that. He doesn’t hurry though, keeps his hips’ movements slow and sensual to have you moaning and gasping ever so slightly at the intensity. He knows he could just give in and fuck you rough and fast, but the heavy-lidded gaze that you are giving him with your mouth hanging open is too good to spoil.

“Joel,” you cry but it’s barely audible compared to what he sometimes drags from you. He can feel your nails dig into the flexing muscles of his thighs, creating half-moon shapes in the flesh. He switches to a rocking motion, and it sends your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You moan with your bottom lip between your teeth, “Mhm—“

“I know, baby, let it out,” he can see your pulse jumping wildly underneath the sensitive skin of your neck, feeling the heat of his orgasm pool at the base of his spine. He needs to be closer to you.

“Lift your legs down to the sides,” he tells you gently, thrusts coming to a halt and him realizing that you’ve heard absolutely nothing. He repeats himself, waits for you to follow his instructions, and then hooks his arms underneath your knees.

Joel gets closer to you by resting his weight on his elbows, his own body on top of your slightly contorted one. You reach for him, grabby hands in the air until he allows himself to be pulled in for a kiss. You cradle his face, make him feel safe in your arms.

“I love you, baby,” he breathes deeply. The new position gives him an opportunity to reach deeper inside of you, and it’s accompanied by each upward snap of his pelvis causing his cockhead to push into your g-spot. It makes it difficult for you to continue kissing him, eventually simply breathing into his mouth as he has you speared on his dick. Never once do you let go of his face, thumbs on his cheekbones, and tip of your nose against his.

“I love you,” you whisper, unable to catch your breath. Joel can feel your walls flutter around his dick, threatening to pull his own climax from him too soon. You pant, eyes burning, “You— baby, shit… you’re gonna make me come.”

“Yeah?” He speeds up a little, carding a hand through your hair and gently tugging on the bun. He coaxes you, “Gonna milk my cock into you? Make me a daddy?”

“Yeah,” you whimper wantonly, tightening your legs into his sides as you try moving with him, “Yeah, baby. Gonna make you a daddy! Fuckfuckfuck. Ah— I’m, I—“

Joel doesn’t know if he’s ever made you come like this; without all the muscle and rough touches, without the fast-paced snaps of his hips and the foul taunting from his mouth of how dirty you are. But come you do, with your brows furrowed, gaze on his and a controlled breathing that suddenly becomes erratic and uneven after you let out a high-pitched cry.

“That’s it,” he admires you, “So good f’me.”

You clamp down on his cock so hard that he sees stars, fucks you through each convulsion of your cunt. His mouth drips with filth as he works himself toward his own pleasure, “You make me so fucking horny, baby. Wanna knock— ngh, wanna knock this pretty pussy up all the time. Give ya a whole fuckin’ litter.”

He tips over the edge not long after, heart pounding in his chest and the sensation in his balls tightening. He releases with a groan, settles deep inside of you to make sure he doesn’t waste a single drop. His orgasm pulses through his cock, swirls in his belly, and warms the small of his back.

“Fuuuck,” he pants. He carefully removes his arms from underneath your legs before he collapses, allowing you to stretch out underneath him. You look completely fucked out, gasping feebly as he teasingly gives you another thrust before pulling out.

You wrap your arms around him as he falls onto you, nose against the shell of his ear. He can barely lift his head when you speak, humming into your neck that vibrates as you talk, “You think other people have sex this good?”

“Nah, ‘s why everyone is so fuckin’ miserable, why they gotta build mansions with their parents’ money,” he murmurs.

“Stop thinking about the hotshot client in bed,” you tease as you cradle his head in your arms, lifting your legs to wrap them around his waist. It seems you cannot get close enough, “You should only think about sticky, sweaty me.”

Joel finds that he doesn’t care about sticky, sweaty skin and you feeling like a furnace after three orgasms. He lays with you like this for a while, sure that you’ve drifted off to sleep at one point, until you push at his shoulder, voice back to your normal pitch as the post-orgasmic bliss has faded slowly, “Gotta pee.”

“Sure,” he rolls off of you. The sight of your waddle to the bathroom makes him smile, eyes following the way the fleshiest part of your ass and thighs jiggle with each step.

When you’ve closed the door behind you, Joel finds the strength to rid the bed of the dirty sheets and start dressing again. He’ll have a shower before bed, he decides, ignoring the sensitivity of sliding on boxers and jeans again.

Hurriedly, he bounces down the stairs to the kitchen. He gets the rest of your peanut butter cup, places it on the nightstand with your clothes right beside it.

He checks the time. There’s no point in trying to cook something up for dinner if Sarah is home from ‘practice’ soon, so he goes down into the kitchen to order pizza, heart thrumming in his chest as he hears you shout a thank you from upstairs at the discovery of the other half of your favorite snack. He is happy. So so happy.

Especially as he writes ‘pregnancy test’ into his Notes app shopping list.

@elissaaa @queerponcho @casa-boiardi @gracieispunk @hiddenbabynyc @hopelessromantic727 @livingdeadmaria @its-nebuleuse @milly-louise @cool-iguana @pawnshopbluess222 @joeldjarin @queenbrownie18 @scarletsloveletter @ladyburberry @swiftsgirlfriend @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sunnywithachanceofjavi @strang3lov3 @hellishjoel @toxicanonymity

Join my taglist

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #the last of us #joel miller fic #joel x reader #joel x you #tlou hbo #my writing #dilf!joel

1K notes · View notes

lovebugism · 11 months

Note

shy!reader wiggling her way into eddie lap bc she had a hard day 😫

You don’t know how to tell Eddie you miss him.

He’s sitting in bed right next to you, scribbling down notes in a worn composition notebook. You don’t even know why you miss him, only that the couple of inches separating you from him feels cavernous.

You don’t know what to say, so you sigh. A big, deep exhale that makes your chest deflate like a popped balloon. It’s sort of what you feel like, anyway.

Eddie’s chin brushes his shoulder as he turns to you, chocolate eyes wide beneath his clear-framed glasses.

He knows that certain sounds mean certain things, kind of like a baby’s cry. You don’t know what you want a lot of the time — you know less how to express that you don’t know what you want — so Eddie’s learned to read you like a book. Most of the time, he knows what’s going on in your head before you do.

But the grieving breath you let out now is too ambiguous for him to understand. It’s too soft to be one of frustration, too drawn out to be contentment. He decides to check the boxes.

“Are you hungry?” he murmurs.

You shake your head in response, focusing on the book in your hand but not any of the words.

“Sleepy?” he asks. “‘Cause I, for one, could totally go for a nap right now, princess.”

You shake your head again, smiling a little this time at his word choice.

“Bored?”

Another head shake.

Eddie gives up. “A feeling neither of us can name because we don’t know what it is?”

You nod.

“I don’t think it even existed before now,” you mutter, half-joking.

The boy laughs. His pink lips match the apples of his cheek. You don’t know how to tell him you want to press your faces together until you’re made of the same vibrant colors he is.

“Is it cabin fever, you think? I’ve kept you hostage here for, like, two days now. Maybe you’re gettin’ sick of me.”

“You’re not holding me hostage. I asked to come over,” you remind him, giggling softly to yourself. “And I could never get sick of you, Eds. You know that.”

You lean over to nudge his shoulder with your own. Instead of sitting back up again, you linger just against him. You find you feel a lot better now, finally touching him. The gnawing feeling is less loud but still there.

Eddie smiles in silent understanding. “Wanna hug?”

A beat passes. You feel a little bit lame for wanting it so desperately. You nod anyway.

Eddie sighs as he sets his notebook on the mattress beside him. It’s not an unhappy one. It’s not an underwhelmed one, either. It’s just a breath, really — a clean, deep inhale-exhale he can finally take, knowing you’re about to be in his arms.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he ushers with his arms spread open. “My body’s always free real estate for you.”

“Ew,” you giggle at the unintentional connotation, sliding closer to him. You duck your burning face away from his in attempts to hide the wide smile on your mouth. Eddie sees it anyway and grins back.

He lazes against the headboard while you settle against his chest, one hand wedged between your bodies and the other curling around his side. You tuck your face into the curls at his neck. He smells like nicotine and floral shampoo and skunk weed. You don’t know how to tell him you need him to lay all his weight on top of you until his natural scent becomes your own.

His chin rests on the crown of your head. He smooths a hand up and down your back. “Is this what you wanted? Just needed my strong arms to feel better, huh? Is that it?”

You know he’s joking, but you don’t laugh. You shrug. “Kinda…”

“Kinda?” he echoes. His contorted face is audible. “Do you need something else?”

He’s not bothered by it, the fact that you want something more — just curious as to how he can make you feel better.

“I don’t know…” you murmur, wriggling against him like you can’t get comfortable. “It’s just… I need to be closer, I think.”

“Closer, huh?” Eddie muses, wrapping his arms more intently around you and squeezing you tight. He presses his lips to your hair. “Honestly, I don’t know if we can get any closer than this… Well. I mean, we could, but I have a feeling that’s not what you want…”

You shake your head against his chest at the implication. You need everything but the sex right now — the holding, the contact, the tangled limbs.

“No, I just… I think I just need to… I don’t know…” you mutter, almost inaudibly into his chest. You hold him tighter. “Would it be okay if I…”

Eddie’s brows raise beneath his bangs as you trail off. You’re getting better at it, at vocalizing when you need something, but the words are hard to form sometimes, and he gets it. He did fail senior year English two times, after all.

“You don’t have to ask for anything, you know?” he assures, practically cooing, punctuating his words with a kiss to the top of your head. “Whatever you want, you can just take it. It’s all good with me, babe.”

His words give you a minimal boost of confidence.

You part from him, lips pursed to the side of your mouth. Eddie eyes you attentively with slow and owlish blinks behind the thick lenses of his glasses. You don’t know how to tell him you want to swim in his chocolate syrup gaze or taste the stars that twinkle inside them.

“I just wanna, like…” you trail off. You never end up finishing your sentence, actually. Without words to describe the overwhelming, unnamed feeling, you just crawl into Eddie’s lap and wrap around him like a koala.

Your thighs settle on either side of his hips, arms curling around his neck as you tuck your face into his wild hair again, pressing your chest intently against his own.

Eddie sighs into your shoulder; it trembles like a faint laugh. His palm smooths over your back, pushing you further against him until the laws of physics prevent either of you from coming any closer.

You exhale slowly. For the first time, Eddie feels you relax against him.

“Is this better?” he mumbles into your cheek.

You nod into the side of his.

Your chests move together with each of your slow, even breaths — rising for a few seconds, stilling for a moment, then falling for a couple more. You think your hearts might be beating in the same rhythm, too.

That gnawing feeling behind your ribcage turns to sunlight.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson #stranger things #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble

3K notes · View notes

undertheorangetree · 6 months

Text

The Last of the Dragons

Chapter Five- The Agreement

Summary- Even days have culminated to this moment.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female Reader. Incest. Pregnancy (we all knew this was coming). Treason. Mention of murder/poisoning. OOC Aemond cuz he’s experiencing joy. Titty sucking. Soft smut.

Author’s Note- and that’s that on that! I genuinely cannot believe how well received this was, I honestly thought I was gonna be writing this entirely for me and didn’t think people would respond to it the way they did. I’m so so glad you all loved it and hopefully that love continues with the final chapter. Full chapter linked below🥰

Morning lets out a curious sound as she follows the reflection of the compact. Her head tilts, the scratch of her claws echoing through the room as she turns them in before she's pouncing on the sunspot, attempting to trap it underfoot. Baela laughs as she shifts her hand, sending the light further into the room, Morning skittering across the flagstones in order to chase it and pulling a laugh from her as well.

Rhaena does not share in their glee, letting out a heavy sigh as she makes her way across the room. "You're so mean to her, you shouldn't tease."

"We're playing," Baela defends, but Rhaena picks Morning up all the same, the young dragon settling into her arms almost immediately. She curls into the warmth of Rhaena's chest, stretching out long where she is cradled, tail falling limp over her arm.

"You'll be lucky if she doesn't bite you," she laughs, making her way over to Rhaena and running her fingers across the pink scales on Morning’s snout.

The little dragon makes a purring noise, pushing up against her fingers and she can't contain her smile. She had never seen Silverwing as a hatchling, claiming her on Dragonstone soon after her family arrived, but she can't deny how sweet Morning is, more akin to a cat than a dragon. Vermax had never been that way, Arrax kinder but capable of the same prickly nature. Tyraxes and Stormcloud seemed closer to Morning than the latter two were but none seemed sweeter than her. Though sweet as she may be, she is still a dragon, capable of violence at any given moment. Particularly if Baela continued to goad her.

Baela looks at her in mock offense, closing the compact pointedly before making her way toward them. "She would never. Far too sweet for such cruelty, aren't you, my love?"

She puts her face far too close to Morning's and though she braces herself to watch her sister lose a chunk of her nose, Baela pulls away before anything can happen, simply rubbing the tip of her nose against Morning’s. There is a degree of longing in her eyes as she backs away and immediately she knows Baela is missing Moondancer. Their bond had been special and the loss had hit her hard, especially when coupled with all the horror that followed, the chains Aegon forced her into, and she feels her heart break for her sister.

"Perhaps we can go riding soon," she offers, coming up to take hold of Baela's elbow. "Silverwing is big enough for two. We can ride however you'd like."

Baela smiles, the corners tinged with sadness, and brings up her hand to take her own, squeezing once. "I would like that."

"And perhaps Morning will join us as well once she's big enough to saddle," she adds, turning back to Rhaena.

Her second sister grins brightly, a laugh escaping her as Morning scrambles up her arm to lounge across her shoulders like a mink fur. She nearly blends into Rhaena's gown, the two pinks far too similar a colour to be pure coincidence, and Baela reaches out a hand to pull their sister closer.

It is moments like this that she has missed the most, moments where the three of them are alone, where they can act as they did as children. There was a brief period, the two years they spent together on Dragonstone before Baela was sent to Driftmark to ward, where they had days just like this. The three of them, joined together at the hip solely because they were girls of the same age. The same septa, the same maester, together always. On occasion, she had found herself missing Helaena, wishing that the four of them had been given the chance to be girls together, wishing that this familial rivalry did not exist. But the night on Driftmark had sealed that fate behind a metal grate forever and Helaena's marriage to Aegon had confirmed it further.

There was to be no shared girlhood for them. Not in this lifetime.

The door to her chambers opens then, pulling her from her thoughts and revealing their grandsire. He stands in the threshold for a moment to take them in, all three chained together by clasped hands, and smiles widely. It makes her stomach drop. "Are we to spend the morning together then?"

"Unfortunately not," she says, face scrunched in sympathy before turning to her sisters. "Would you both give us a moment alone? Council matter, I'm afraid."

"Of course, lovely," Baela assures her. Though there is a clear suspicion there, she still presses a kiss to her cheek all the same.

Rhaena is nodding as well, raising Morning in her arms. "We should find something for this beast to eat before she attempts to devour a few ravens in the rookery."

They say their goodbyes, each pressing a kiss to Corlys's cheek, and she feels her heart clench the moment the door closes behind them, leaving her alone with their grandsire. Corlys looks over at her and smiles, enough to make her guilt feel all consuming before she gestures to her dining table. He takes a seat while she begins rifling through her letter chest, searching for the right seal before pulling it out and joining him at the table.

Read the rest here :)

Taglist- @ammo23 @bellstwd @kckt88 @aemondsbabygirl @shygardengalaxy @duds31 @at-a-rax-ia @ladymarg0t @queenofshinigamis @drakar-i @cl-0-vr @castellomargot @moonlightfoxx @ladybug0095 @marihoneywk @the-common-cowgirl @darylandbethfanforever9 @bunny24sstuff @helaenaluvr @toodlesxcuddles @eternally-passionate @herfantasyworldd @ashovertheriver @hypocritic-trash-baby @heavenly1927 @bunbunbl0gs @divxnee @seabasscevans @madislayyy @jessssica1234 @humanpurposes @strangersunghoon

#Aemond targaryen x reader #Aemond x reader #Aemond targaryen x you #Aemond x you #Aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond x fem!reader #Aemond targaryen x niece #aemond x niece!reader #Aemond targaryen smut #Aemond smut #aemond targaryen #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #hotd smut #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon smut

512 notes · View notes

paladinncleric · 6 months

Text

Intruders: A Comedy of Terrors.

Pairing(s): Jenna Ortega x fem!reader

Summary: Jenna and R tackle an "intruder"

Warning(s): Fluff at the end, comedy

Words: 1k+

A/N: So this might be shitty, but bear with me it's my first one here.

"Don't panic, but I think there's someone in our house." was the first thing Jenna said to me after waking me up at *checks phone* 3 in the morning.

So naturally, I panicked.

"What?! Wait what?!" I said, making it very clear I just woke up with my lack of vocabulary.

Jenna pushed her index finger vertically towards my lips to shush me as she strained her ears to hear better. With her finger still pushing against my lips, I looked up at her with my eyebrows raised and my eyes wide with panic. She looked back down at me and said:

"Go check it out."

"What? no."

"You have to, you wear the pants in this relationship."

"Hey! What happened to hating hetero-normativity?" I whispered back as I stared at her bewildered.

"What? You're the one always bragging about topping. So, go be a top."

"Just cause I top in bed, doesn't make me the sacrificial goat in the relationship!"

Jenna sighed and said, "Okay fine, we'll go together."

"Do we have to go though? I mean we can just stay here blissfully oblivious to the danger and sleep."

She just stared back at me blankly, giving me her infamous Wednesday Addams stare.

"Okay Okay fine, let's go." I said sighing as I stood up and pulled up the pajama I discarded in the floor earlier getting in bed. While she got up to get her robe on as I picked up the baseball bat from the closet, I knew it'd come in handy someday.

I grabbed the knob as I gently twisted the knob with Jenna standing beside me holding her breath in anticipation as I opened the door and poked my head out in the hallway. I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw no one there and fully got out of the room while signaling for her to get out too.

As we were about to descend the stairs, we heard a creak sound coming from downstairs. I froze, oh my god I'm gonna die tonight.

"Y/n?" Jenna whispered.

A strangled noise came out of me as I stared downstairs my eyes wide with fear as I still stood frozen there.

"Oh for god's sake." I hear Jenna say as she pushes past me down the stairs. I break from my trance as I whisper-yell her name.

"Jenna! Jenna! wait for me!"

I hurry down the stairs careful not to step on the creak parts of the steps. I finally catch up to her as I tug on her elbow.

"Jen this isn't one of your movies, there's no guarantee you'll be the final girl. Although I think you have what it takes to be one, I think I'll be the tragic love interest though-"

Jenna cuts me off with a glare as she points towards the living room where a shadow can be seen. I immediately go quiet and I hear Jenna gulp as we both move towards the living room, me holding the bat and Jenna holding a random vase she picked up. As we near the entry to the living room I turn to her and signal that we'll charge in at the count of three. I take a deep breath as I feel a sweat trickle down my neck I turn to her and say:

"I love you and if I die tonight you're not allowed to date other people."

She narrowed her eyes at me and said, "Same goes for you too."

With that we shake hands like we settled a deal, and I leave a kiss on her hand as I let it go and finally say, "Okay on the count of three."

"One." We face the entrance again.

"Two." I tighten my hold on my bat.

"Three." And we both run into the room screaming while flailing our respective weapons around.

Two more screams can be heard too as we turn towards the sound and still continue screaming. Suddenly, the lights turn on as all of the screaming abruptly stopped.

"Georgie?!"

"Joy?!"

Both Jenna and I exclaimed, then a slurred voice said from the couch, "Emma." while giggling.

I slumped on the wall next to me as Jenna slumped on me as we both breathed a sigh of relief.

We move on over to the couch to see a drunk Emma mumbling stuff to herself half passed out and look towards our cause of unnecessary terror.

"You guys know that we're in the 21st Century right? All of us have phones?" Jenna exclaimed.

"You people scared the shit out of us, I was almost ready to sacrifice Jenna and run for my life."

"Me too, I already had a plan to push her in the killer's arms and run for the door."

"Fair." I replied.

Both of them gave us a weird stare, and then Joy started explaining, "Anyways...so all of us went out tonight which mind you, you guys declined for which I'm very offended. Then Emma got wasted, but her date ditched her last minute so she didn't have a place to stay for the night."

"So, y'all thought of breaking into our house?" I asked.

Joy glared at me for interrupting her but continued, "Also we're all going back to our hotel room and as Emma was supposed to come stay with y'all from tomorrow for a few days anyway, I thought why don't we just drop her off tonight."

"Yeah, I told you it was a bad idea." Said Georgie holding Emma down from lying on the couch upside down.

"Emma miraculously had a key, so we got in. But the drunken idiot thought it'd be great idea to announce her presence in the house. Georgie saw her and jumped on her to put his hands on her mouth to not to wake you guys but she struggled and caused him to slip on the carpet, which I'm guessing is the sound that woke you up?"

Emma woke up for a moment from her half-conscious state on the couch with her hand raised, said: "In my defense, I thought Georgie wanted to play-wrestle me." and passed out again.

Jenna rubbed her temple with a sigh and said while glaring, "This is the last time you people are entering my home at night without informing me."

Now, as tiny as she is, she's just as scary. So naturally, Joy and Georgie agreed immediately.

I chuckled as I stood up and said, "You guys need a ride home? none of you look completely sober to me."

"Nah, we're good, Thanks though. Hunter's got us covered, he's our designated driver." Said Georgie.

"Yea, he's parked outside waiting for us to drop Emma off." Said Joy.

All of us looked outside to see Hunter jamming out to songs in his car completely oblivious to us watching him.

"Well then, we're gonna get going. Sorry again y'all." Said Joy as she gave us both a quick hug with Georgie following her after hugging us too.

I cracked my neck after locking the door and I looked at Jenna as we both burst out laughing. Terrifyingly, Emma burst out laughing too while half passed out.

"Um ok, time to get her to bed." I said as I picked her up and placed her down on the guest room which will be the drunken's room for the next few weeks. Jenna placed some Advil and a glass of water on the bedside table with a note saying:

"Think before you drink next time <3

-Jen & Y/n/n"

I chuckled as I intertwined our fingers and gave her a peck on the lips. As soon as we reached our bedroom, I sprawled out on the bed exhausted from the events of the night, while Jenna went to the bathroom.

I was almost asleep when I felt someone jump on me, with still a little bit of panic left in me from the night, I jumped startled and fell right out of the bed to the floor.

I could hear Jenna struggling to hold in her laugh as I groaned at the contact my hips made with the floor. Then, I felt Jenna's hand trying to pull me up on the bed again, this time not even trying to conceal her laugh. I relented, as I got up on my own (it's not possible for Jenna to pick up someone almost a foot taller than her) and flopped down on top of her.

"Ugh Y/n/n, get off!" Jenna said giggling and squirming trying to get me off of her. I tightened my hands around her waist as I tucked my head on her neck, contentedly dozing off even with her moving so much.

"Nope, that's what you get."

After a while of struggling, she finally gave up. "Fine, but if I get hot later on I'm kicking you off the bed again." She said as she wrapped her arms around my head while moving a bit to the side so not all of my weight is on her.

With that we both started dozing off...

...until the sounds of throwing up could be heard from the room next to us. I groaned and Jenna deeply sighed as I moved away from her as we got up to aid our poor friend so she doesn't choke to death.

#jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x yn #wednesday cast #wlw post #wlw love #lesbian #sapphic #fluff #comedy #jenna marie ortega #fiction #fanfic #prompt

495 notes · View notes

aonungsmate · 1 year

Note

Hellllooo

So I was reading ao’nung x reader fanfics and like I came up with an idea that was stuck to my head ever since. So like there’s a sound on TikTok where it’s like : “you’re not good enough for my daughter and I don’t want you to be around her, end of story” …..”so why don’t you give me one last chanc-“ but on ao’nung x sully!reader where she’s like younger than neteyam and Lo’ak, she’s the kind of girl who can be strict but gentle at the same time, help her grandma and mom to make food, heals, the type of girl that dads would be like “girls like you shouldn’t be bla bla bla” the type to walk grandmas on the cross way, type to open a bakery by herself and call it the Sully’s Family Bakery 💀 . So ao’nung wanted to court the reader but Jake, Neteyam and Lo’ak aim buying it so ao’nung had to come with some Metkayina specialty and gifts and maybe even fruitier a song 💀 but Jake is just a protective dad and it turned down to reader scolding 4 dudes who’s like almost twice her size about how she’s mature enough to know who would treat her right and stuff and kiri, Tuk and neytiri is just enjoying the scene 💀

I Hold The World, But You

Ao'nung x Sully!Reader[Word count: 2.8k]

Ask and you shall receive- This is me ditching my written reports to feed all of you <33 Thank you so much for requesting anon!

Warnings: Nothing notable! Please do inform me if there is!

Ao’nung has never really known what it means to be alive. He never faced any oppression nor any hardship of notable difficulty due to his social status. Being the son of the olo’eyktan entails so much prestige, but he’s never really known how to live. Not until he met you.

The moment you were born, you have always known the dangers of living. Having been born into a family with warrior parents, who were both victims of war, evident pain is still visible in their eyes. You were Jake Sully and Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at'ite’s third child, their first-born daughter after they decided to call Grace’s daughter, Kiri, their very own. Growing up as the daughter of the Toruk Makto and olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya meant bearing the horrors of reality that the na’vi have been facing for years. Your father was deemed responsible for leading the forest people into many victories against the sky people, along with your mother and the former olo’eyktan, Tsu'tey te Rongloa Ateyitan, one of the finest warriors that the omatikaya clan who was known for leading the na’vi against the RDA forces in the assault on The Tree of Souls.

“I tried to kill your father the first time we met.”

Having been born into Jake Sully’s family meant so much more than being a warrior’s child. Your childhood was filled with love. Your older brothers, Neteyam and Lo’ak, complete polar opposites but are both very protective of their younger siblings. Neteyam, the finest candidate for the next olo’eyktan, the one who obeys to live up to expectations and earn the title of being a mighty warrior, and Lo’ak, the older brother who gets into so much trouble to try and live up to expectations, most protective of you, but incomparable to your father, who acts as both armor and bow against the dangers of the world.

You grew up being taken care of by your older sister Kiri, befriending nature through her imaginative mind and immense affinity for connecting herself with the things that surround her. Your family always knew that there was something special going on between Kiri and the world itself. As if she’s connected to the things you see everyday, she would always see things from a perspective that you would assume Eywa would have.

The scientists were not the only people left in Pandora. You have also been introduced to Spider, a human child that was too young to be put through the cryo chambers. He has greeted each of you as friends, and you do the same with him. Despite your mother’s distaste in his presence, she couldn’t really do anything, for you and your siblings loved him as you would a friend. You thought he was a strong person. Someone you look up to, because he always seems to overcome his limitations as a human.

It wasn’t long before Tuktirey was born. The most adorable sister you could ever have, although a bit of a telltale, much to your brother’s chagrin, she was loved by the whole family. She looks like a bit of your father, and a bit of your mother. Tuk practically looks like a mix of your parents. You love it when she would play with your braids. But most of all, you love it when she would turn to you for more stories and dreams that you would have, carrying the innocent curiosity that a child like her would have.

You loved your siblings. You really do.

But right now? Things are just being so ridiculous.

“No, you cannot court my sister, Ao’nung,” Neteyam shook his head firmly, placing a protective arm in front of you, attempting to shield you from your suitor. There your brother was again. He’s having one of those stingy fits where he would deprive you and your lover of spending time together. Apparently, there was this thing called ‘codes’, where you cannot see your friend’s sister in a romantic way. The idea of it was ridiculous for you.

Really.

“Brother, you cannot have a say in this. You are not the one who is being courted,” you pushed his hand away, flashing a bashful smile at Ao’nung, being enraptured by his viridian eyes. Your eyes were swirling with love and a mix of nervousness as they met those of Ao’nung’s, only to be interrupted by Neteyam. “You are not to be courted by him (y/n), that is final.”

Just what bad deed have you done to deserve this? You obeyed your elders, went to hunt when told to, helped your fellow na’vi when being asked for help, learned healing, and healed others. Eywa! You even learned to cook many dishes after hearing your grandmother complain about how the food being prepared is becoming bland, if it were not for her cooking teylu. You would always say yes to anything that your family asks of you.

You always thought that you would not be able to say no to your family. Maybe there are things that do surprise you. Just like how your brother Lo’ak, is hissing at Ao’nung at this very moment.

“What is going on?” you ran towards the direction of the two young men, carrying firewood that your mother had asked you to fetch for her. There, you found your older brother hissing at your friend, for an unknown reason that somehow, you didn’t want to know. Therefore, being the most resourceful person in the scene, you opted for the firewood, pushing them in your brother's arms and pulling him away from the metkayina boy. “I am sorry Ao’nung, we will see you tomorrow!” With a sweet smile on your lips, how could Ao’nung complain? A boy who’s as smitten as him could never go against your wishes to stop the fight before it escalates. Ao’nung’s head always tends to tell him to go big or go home, but right now, that saccharine smile was his priority. He wouldn’t take the risk and make you cry, no.

He would rather battle a hundred akula than do that. He vowed to protect you after all.

Even from himself.

But that one just seemed impossible. He feels Eywa whispering to him that you are his muntxate.

He sees you as someone he would spend the rest of his life with.

Arriving at your marui, you sighed at your father’s questioning gaze after just seeing you drag your older brother back, as if he was asking just what trouble he got up to.

“What is it this time, Lo’ak?” He crossed his arms, tapping his left foot in impatience. You squinted at your father, knowing how he’d react if he knew he was in a disagreement with Ao’nung.

“Dad, I found him hissing at Ao’nung again–!” “You telltale– I knew that bastard had a bad influence on you!” Lo’ak hissed, his tail swaying back and forth with betrayal written on his eyes. You scoffed, side-eyeing him for a second before facing your father with pleading eyes.

“Bravo Zulu–” “Dad!” you yelled in disbelief, your jaw dropping when your father shook Lo’ak’s hand with pride evident on his face, menacing grins both on their faces. You could feel a migraine turning into aneurysm when your eldest brother entered the marui, “Dad, you wouldn’t believe Ao’nung– Oh, you’re here baby sis!” He chuckled nervously once he noticed your small figure in front of his father. You responded with a glare, crossing your arms at the three men towering over you who take pleasure in making Ao’nung suffer.

Clearing his throat, Neteyam puts a hand on your shoulder, coaxing you out of the pod, telling you that he has something to share with your father and Lo’ak. Refusing to be excluded in a conversation you knew was going to be about how they were going to torment the metkayina you love, you stood your ground and bore your fangs, something that you did very seldom towards your family.

“No.”

Neteyam squinted at you in return, turning to your father for help, instantly getting his support in a matter of a few seconds. “Yeah babygirl, we really need to talk about that trouble tailing your shadow every minute of the day, ‘kay?” Your father said, giving you a smile of reassurance and pressed a kiss on your forehead that did not faze you, even for a bit. Fate seems to be on your father’s side as you heard your mother calling for you in the background. You groaned in annoyance, rubbing a palm on your face causing Lo’ak to snicker at you, “Oh yeah sis, best get moving before mom gives you a whooping huh?”

You’d definitely get back at him when the time comes for him and Tsireya.

Bearing no choice in the matter, you were forced to evacuate your home and walked towards the direction of your mother.

Your brothers and your father on the other hand, were having the time of their lives imparting their knowledge about your suitor and what they would be doing whenever they would see the boy approach you. They have devised ‘the most sneaky’ plans to make Ao’nung back out in his courting, but were not able to deduce that the said young man was actually on his way to their pod as they were conversing with each other, bringing them to this very moment.

“I would like to court your daughter, sir. She is as beautiful as the ocean, and her whole being might as well be my sustenance as I cannot imagine life without her.”

The na’vi are known to be spiritually connected to Eywa, singing and dancing is embedded in their hearts. So no one could really blame Ao’nung when he broke into a song.

“I want to court your daughter,” he started, undulating notes while clenching his fist.

His eyes meet Lo’ak’s and then Neteyam’s, going back to Jake’s, “I know you don’t think I ought to.” He smiled, reminiscing his earliest memories with you, a smile tugging at his lips, “I’m not bad, I’m a great guy you’ll see,”

“I think that you should be–”

They were all sitting on the marui, silence overtaking when Jake suddenly slammed a hand on the floor, hiding his face from view, until Lo’ak burst into fits of laughter, wheezing at Ao’nung his father and Neteyam following suit. Ao’nung chose to ignore Lo’ak’s outburst, pursing his lips in deep contemplation. He would definitely get him back for this when he asks his parents to court Tsireya. Ao’nung licked his lips out of nervousness, seeking validation from your father’s eyes.

“I’ll be honest Ao’nung. I don’t care if you're the goddamn chief’s son,” Jake straightened his posture, emphasizing that he was much mightier than Ao’nung was at the moment, he was Toruk Makto for god’s sake. “You’re not good enough for my daughter, and I don’t want you around her, end of story.”

Ao’nung winced at Jake’s statement, his insecurities taking over his mind. He was the mightiest hunter in the clan that’s for sure, but who’s to say that you were looking for a hunter? A na’vi as charming and lovely as you is sought by most men. He would know because you were much like his sister, whom he finds himself being protective of, most of the time.

“With all due respect JakeSully, I understand why you are being protective of her. I have a sister myself, and might I remind you, your son desires to court her too– So why don’t you give me one last–”

“Get outta here.”

He sang his heart out, yet he still got denied?

Does Eywa hate him? Ao’nung immediately mutters an apology after thinking that way, his mind going in circles as he thought about his options. Then he remembered, go big or go home. Of course the answer to his problems has always been inside of him.

And so, Ao’nung prepared all sorts of things that he could give to show you and your family that he’s a good provider. He foraged in the morning, hunted in the afternoon, twisted the most intricate design he could do on a necklace. This very process went on and on for days. He figured that he would rather put his feelings into action than waste his time bumping shoulders with your brothers to convince them to let him see you. He knew that they would be as stubborn if he didn’t show them what he could do.

His preparation did not go over five days, eager to please you in a matter of short time. He wants to prove himself and he will. After putting his gifts into baskets, he asked Tsireya to come with him in an attempt to distract Lo’ak and avoid disruptions from him. His sister was aware of the Sully brothers’ antics and pitied her own brother, giving him a nod of agreement and took one of the baskets to carry towards the direction of your home. He carried in his left arm the biggest catch he could find that day to offer to your family, along with numerous baskets balancing on his right arm.

It didn’t take long until he reached the opening of your marui, catching the whole family on the floor, preparing dinner. He carefully placed the baskets on the side of the marui and kneeled before the entrance, making you raise your eyebrow at the sudden gesture. Your heart soared when you heard him speak, “Yawntu, I ask for permission to extend this gesture as the beginning of our courtship,” his voice growing smaller as he went on, “So, I offer you this necklace as a promise of love and declaration of commitment to you and only you..”

He pulled out a smaller basket from the satchel he was carrying, presenting you with the most exquisite necklace you have ever seen, precious stones attached to both ends of the fang in the center. You could feel your face heating up, getting nudged by your mother, with Kiri snorting at the corner as soon as she laid her eyes on your flushed face, and Tuk, she was giggling on your mother’s lap, casting a knowing grin at you.

“I accept��”

“No. no. no.” Jake immediately interjected the proposal, standing up from his position, towering over Ao’nung in a matter of seconds, effectively making Ao’nung feel intimidated, his tail swishing in newfound threat, whilst your father’s was flicking from left to right, the end of his tail dragging on the floor to display his protectiveness over you. Proving to be your father’s sons, Neteyam and Lo’ak copied him, standing behind their father, hissing at your suitor.

You have prayed to Eywa that she would somehow bless you with everlasting patience, but perhaps she simply does not want to show mercy to your father and older brothers.

As if Kiri, Tuk and Neytiri were anticipating what was going to happen, they all huddled up together in one corner, deciding to watch things unfold.

“Yes, I accept.” You said with gritted teeth, walking towards the entrance, your tail in full display as it seemingly found vigor from all the pent up anger that you have been feeling ever since your brothers found out about Ao’nung’s plans to court you. Your mother’s smile widened in pride as she saw you display protectiveness over the mate you wanted to choose. You glared at your father, walking in front of Ao’nung to shield him from their gaze.

“This is my life, and I will find a mate for myself,” you said, “I have been nothing but compliant my whole life, and I will not break that streak by not following my heart!”

The three tall men feet taller than you gulped, their ears flattened at your dilated pupils and snarl, currently afraid for themselves. You momentarily turned at Ao’nung, smiling at him sweetly and showed him your neck, gesturing for him to put on the necklace that he had assembled for you, earning angry hisses from your father, making you huff, unfazed by his threats.

“I will rip your throat into shreds if you so much hurt a single hair on–” “Ma’Jake.”

“Oh no, dad we are not done yet,” you crossed your arms, making Jake look away in defeat. Neteyam chuckled at his father’s surrender, making you raise an eyebrow at your brothers, “The two of you have a lot to explain as well.” “We do?” Neteyam frowned, making him elbow Lo’ak. “Damn sis, I have a good reason for–” “No you don’t! You are in the middle of asking Tsireya to be her mate too!”

As if on cue, they all sat before you simultaneously, their tails tucked between their legs. They could only wince at your words, a flurry of apologies thrown at Ao’nung, making you raise your nose up at your brothers and father, threatening them that if they so much treat your suitor badly again, you would find a way to live in a separate marui with Ao’nung.

And they knew to take your words seriously.

—

Muntxate - wife

Bravo zulu - military slang for well done

Teylu - beetle larva; delicacy in Omatikaya

3K notes · View notes

yandere-wishes · 7 months

Note

Long ramble anon here, I'm happy you liked my long ask I was just concerned that I put way too much as I have a tendency to hyperfixate snd overexplain, hence the tldr at the end. To be honest ever since seeing the fox beastman I've been on a bit of a kick with theorizing things for him. (Did the same thing with Rollo hehe) Anyway, if you want some more of my takes I'm happy to share.

Alright so you know how beastmen retain some of their animalistic traits? Well my brain immediately goes to what this means for their romantic endeavors and courting behaviors. Not much is known about the courting process for foxes, but we do know that scent marking and loud vocal barking is used to attract a mate. How does this carry over to a humanoid fox? Well, my theory is that he will likely give his darling something like his coat, or spray whatever cologne he uses on their things or use more of it when he knows he's going to see them. As for the loud vocal barking you better believe my mind immediately went to him just belting out a serenade for his darling, regardless of how he actually may sound I think he's self-assured and prideful enough to believe this would definitely entice his soon to be mate.

Another interesting thing about foxes is that they are monogamous to a fault, rarely ever taking another mate after the passing of their partner, instead remaining loyal until their own passing (at least this was what I've read in my admittedly surface level research). To me this means two things, 1) once Fellow sets his eyes on a darling that's absolutely it for him regardless of how he has to get them by his side it is an inevitability so if they would just be a good dear and surrender early on everything could be so much better, and 2) should anything unfortunate befall to his darling he wouldn't ever fall for anyone else and likely never fully recover emotionally.

Tldr; The fox man would woo his darling with his surely illustrious (at least to him) voice and his cologne or perhaps natural pheromones, and once he woos them Fellow would never so much as look at another in the same light.

Don't apologize Anon!! I love it when people send in long asks about their hyperfixations!! It feels so endearing and sweet and makes me want to give you a big hug!! I'm literally the same when it comes to hyperfixate and overexplain, when I'm obsessed with something (TV show, movie, game, etc) I need to feel it in my veins!! Plus being able to chat about it with people on Tumblr is always one of the best parts!!

I can't stop laughing at the thought of Fellow sending his darling with loud obnoxious barking 🤣🤣 Bonus points if the reader is a regular human and just stares at him confused, while Leona, Ruggie, and Jack just nod in approval in the background (or in anger and disbelief, depends on the scenario). The idea of him sharing his cologne and jacket with Reader is actually really sweet. I like to think that some ways down the line if Fellow ever had to go away for an extended period of time. Reader would just cuddle into a corner hugging his jacket and spraying some of his cologne on herself. He'd be so delighted coming home and smelling his scent so strongly on his beloved.

I love this!! Just Fellow knowing that reader is the one from the first look 😍😍😍😍 He's so smitten and lays on the charm extra thick. Wanting them all so badly and doing anything to get them. If Reader should die (Lord forbid) Fellow definitely wouldn't get another partner BUT he'd also go the extra mile and try to resurrect them. Magic exists in Twisted Wonderland so I'm sure someone out there has the ability to raise the dead. He'd do absolutely anything to hold you in his arms again.

Look Reader is getting a really sweet deal here. A tall handsome man (+ bonus he comes with A SUPER FLUFFY TAIL AND EARS) with a smooth voice, and a charming personality. Willing to give her anything, do anything for her, and make sure she had the best life imaginable. He's physically incapable of cheating and would fawn over the reader like a lovestruck puppy. He's literally just perfect!! Ignoring the manipulative tendencies, obsessive behavior, and ability to maim someone with his teeth😊😊

418 notes · View notes

ggidolsmuts · 11 months

Text

Sin, Hormones, and the Starlet’s Boyfriend - Le Sserafim Yunjin, Somi

A/N: Apologies for the shit gif, I can’t figure out how to do this properly.

Yunjin exits from the bathroom, sighing. It's shark week for her soon, she can already feel the telltale signs. Her usually exuberant nature has slightly floundered and flagged, becoming more quiet, and noticing things that were not quite going her way. The other members recognize it too, and thankfully they are accommodating to her, not being nearly as loud around her today.

"Hey girl!" Not Somi though, Somi has one setting and that setting is taped on "full power".

"Hey Somi!" Yunjin smiles and waves in return. "How are you doing?"

"Doing good, doing good, thanks for doing the challenge for me!"

"Of course, same here!"

"You know, maybe we should do a collab sometime, I love the songs you wrote!" Somi gushes.

"You do? Really?"

"Of course!"

"Yeah... I mean yeah of course, we should totally collab!"

"Great, you should come by!"

"Sure, how about tomorrow?" Yunjin doesn't even pay attention to what she just said until it's too late. Why tomorrow? Her inner introvert curses herself.

"Ooh that sounds good, drop by my home studio, we can work on it before we put it in front of a producer, bring your guitar okay?"

"Ah yeah, that sounds great, see you then!"

Yunjin shows up the next day at Somi's place.

"Hey, come in, come in!"

"Whoa, nice place!"

"Thanks thanks, come, do you want some water?"

"Sure that works."

"Great, anyways, so I was thinking..." Somi talks animatedly, and Yunjin responds in kind—maybe this collab could really work! Before she knows it they've moved to Somi's room, playing around on her sound setup as Yunjin plays a few chords.

"Hey babe, dinner's ready— oh!" The two of them turn around to the unknown voice. "Hello?"

"Oh hey oppa, this is Yunjin."

"Yes, from Le Sserafim right? Nice to meet you."

"Ah yes, nice to meet you!" Yunjin quickly stands up to greet him. "And you are...?"

"Oh, just an oppa I know." Somi says casually, before putting a finger to her lips. Yunjin gets the gist immediately, and mouths "Boyfriend?" to Somi. But he answers for her.

"Yes I am her boyfriend."

"Yah we had plausible deniability!"

"Oh come on, she's not stupid. Ah yes, I am just the oppa who calls you 'babe'. Anyways dinner's ready, come out to eat."

"D-Dinner?" Yunjin checks her phone—time flew by a lot faster than she thought! "It's getting late, thanks for having me over Somi!"

"You should stay for dinner!"

"No no, I don't want to impose on you and your boyfriend."

"No it's fine, we like having company, we made more than enough, right oppa?" Somi shoots a look at him.

"I umm, I will, I guess?"

"Great!"

Somi drags Yunjin to the dinner table, where there are two prepared plates of delicious pasta waiting.

"Oh, he's already made it for you two, I really should—"

"No no, sit." Somi firmly pushes Yunjin into a chair. "He can make more."

"Yep, you two go ahead, I'll just be a sec."

"What does he do? I don't think I recognize him." Yunjin asks, noting his tightly fitted shirt.

"Yeah, he's not a celebrity, just an office worker at a chaebol, you know the type." In her opinion he could certainly pass for a celebrity—good looking and fit, where did Somi even find someone like that? And where's hers? Slowly Yunjin teases out the details of how Somi met him, and she envies Somi's luck.

"Hey Yunjin," he calls out to her. "Do you like penne or fettucine?" He holds out two bags of pasta for her to choose.

"Uhh, penne's good."

"Great, coming right up." He turns away from her, and she watches him roll up his sleeves—the simple act sends a sinful thrill through Yunjin's body. Fuck, no office worker looks like that. She turns back to find Somi typing away at her phone, and Yunjin gets on her phone, not really looking at it, just trying to distract herself from thoughts of him. He's good looking, he cooks, he has a stable job, his forearms are muscular, like he could really finger—

I wish for what's for—

Yunjin shakes her head vigorously. Stop! she tells herself. He's Somi's boyfriend!

"Why the fuck does he have to be so hot?"

"Sorry?" Yunjin's blood goes cold as she hears him right next to her, a plate of pasta in his hands. Oh god did she just say her thoughts out loud?

"Ah? Umm I, umm, just the weather I mean, it's been so hot the past few days."

"Oh yeah, tell me about it, I still have to dress up for work too, ugh. Here you go." He puts the plate in front of her, and it smells delicious. Damn it, not only does he cook, he cooks well!

"T-Thanks." Yunjin quickly digs into the pasta, her face flushed. She almost jumps out of the chair when she feels a foot tap her knee under the table. Somi has been sitting across from her the whole time, and now she's looking quizzically at Yunjin. Suddenly she feels the weight of guilt, of even thinking about Somi's boyfriend like that, what does she even say to Somi?

"I, I have to use the washroom! Be right back!" Yunjin yelps before quickly dashing for the toilet. A dread fills her as Somi gets up too.

"Sure, let me show you where it is." Somi grabs Yunjin by the elbow, steering her down the hallway and into her bedroom instead of the bathroom. "What was that?" she asks, and Yunjin knows there's no getting out of it.

"I'm so sorry Somi, I didn't mean it, it just came out!" Yunjin presses her hands together, begging for forgiveness. "I would never do a thing!"

"You think he's hot?" Yunjin turns red but stays silent, but Somi doesn’t let it slide. "Answer me."

"I... yes. I'm sorry Somi!"

"Why are you sorry? Hah I mean I think he's hot too, it's part of the package, and his package is—" Somi shakes her head. "Anyways, what's going on, where's this coming from?"

"Sorry, it's just one of those times, you know—"

"You are hormonal and you're horny." Yunjin's shocked at how simply Somi puts it, but she can't bring herself to deny it. "You're not seeing anyone?" Yunjin shakes her head. "Tch, of course not, you're in a new girl group."

"I'm so sorry, I'll leave right away after dinner, or if you want I can leave right now, I'll make something up."

"No, stay. Do you want to fuck him?"

"No Somi he's your boyfriend, I can't—"

"Not can't, do you want to? If you don't say no I'm treating that as a yes."

Yunjin opens her mouth, but no sounds come out other than some weird croak. Somi smirks, suppressing a laugh.

"That's settled then, stay after dinner, tell your members you'll be late home tonight. I'll make it happen." Yunjin lets herself get shown to the bathroom, and she sighs as she looks herself in the mirror. Is she really going to fuck Somi's boyfriend? That's not like her!

But you didn't say no. The little voice in her head tells her, and her abdomen is already getting warm. Somi was talking about his package, how big is it, and maybe his arms are muscular from carrying her around— Yunjin shakes her head to clear her fantasies, but no, it's too late, she's already getting wet. Yunjin groans and tries to focus on other thoughts—she sees two toothbrushes on the counter, guess he really does live here too, do they fuck in her bedroom, maybe in this bathroom too?

Oh my god! Yunjin shouts internally before splashing water on her face. She needed to cooldown, to just go out there and eat her fucking pasta.

And pray she doesn't soak through her panties.

"Everything okay? You and Somi were gone for a long time." You ask as Yunjin returns from the bathroom, face slightly red and... wet? "You have some water on your face."

"Oh you know oppa, girl talk," Somi quips.

"Yeah, just tired, had to wake myself up." Yunjin corroborates. You offer to make her coffee, but she declines. You shrug and continue finishing your dinner. You can't help but wonder what went on as Somi tries to engage Yunjin in small talk, but her friend is strangely reticent.

"Thanks for the delicious dinner oppa, we'll be working in my room okay?" Somi pecks you on the cheek before pulling Yunjin from her seat.

"T-Thank you!" Yunjin bows deeply.

"Sure not at all, no need to be so polite." You chuckle and smile, but Yunjin only blushes deeper. You try to catch Somi's gaze, wanting to ask if Yunjin's okay, but your girlfriend ignores you, dragging her back to the room instead.

"S-Somi, are you really okay with this?"

"Yeah it's not a huge deal, better for me too, there are times when I can't keep up with him."

"What do you— Oh." Yunjin realizes what she means, and her desires that she managed to keep in check for the rest of dinner begin leaking out as she squirms.

"He's very... passionate, for lack of a better word. He comes back from work, and the first thing he does is jump me, do you know how many recordings I've had to delete because he just scoops me up and I can't even turn off the mic?"

"Oh, umm no..." No, Yunjin didn't know, but now she wishes Somi kept those recordings. "S-Sounds troublesome."

"Speaking of troublesome, the clean up, oh my god, he just explodes in you— Oops, sorry, I shouldn't tease you should I? Poor you, you must be so on edge." Somi stops, seeing Yunjin rubbing her thighs together.

"You don't have condoms, do you?"

"I think we do, but..." Somi checks her usual drawer. "Ah sorry, we must have used the last few over the weekend. Don't worry, he's good at pulling out, just tell him."

"O-Okay, that's fine." Yunjin answers quietly. The last few? Just how much sex do they have? And am I really doing this? She can still pull out— Yunjin shakes her head again, bad choice of words.

"I'll go talk to him then okay? Just give us a couple of minutes." Yunjin nods silently, not trusting herself to speak as Somi exits the room. Should she just get up and leave, just make up some excuse? She can just take care of herself back in the dorms.

I wish for what's— It's not forbidden if Somi allows it right? Right? Right?

Yunjin stays seated, silently pulling off her socks. Even that friction makes her wetter.

"Hey oppa, let me take over the dishes." You feel Somi's hands wrap around you from behind, and you dry your own hands on the towel before grabbing her own.

"Oh? You're going to do the dishes for once?"

"What do you mean for once! I always do the dishes!"

"Yes, when I have like one plate left you take over."

"Tsch fine, no, I was thinking you could do something else for me." Somi presses herself more tightly into your back, making sure you feel her generous chest properly. Her hand drifts from your waist to your slacks, undoing the button.

"Yah, isn't Yunjin still here? It's one thing to have the relationship found out, it's another to just be openly doing this while she's here!" you hiss as Somi snakes a hand into your boxers, stroking you slowly to stiffness. Despite your words you reach behind and easily find Somi's ass, squeezing her through her shorts.

"Mmm yes, squeeze it, it's gonna feel so good for Yunjin too." You squeeze Somi firmly before stopping.

"What?"

"I think my new friend in the room needs some help with guys."

"I'm sure she can find someone, she's an idol."

"Oh I meant now, like within 5 minutes. She looks like she could use a good fuck, she's been on edge since she saw you." You resume squeezing Somi's ass from behind as you process her words and pretend to "clean" the last plate.

"I see, and you want me to do the honors?"

"Well, it's clear to me she wants you to do the honors, and I could do with a break tonight."

"You say that like you're not going to come watch, and then join in."

Unbeknownst to you and Somi, Yunjin has quietly opened the door, just to see what's going on. She sees Somi hugging you from behind, but with the faucet running she can't hear you and Somi talk. What she can tell is the content of your conversation, her eyes widening as your hand drifts to Somi's ass, firmly groping her.

"Fuck..." she breathes quietly. When was the last time she was grabbed like that, when has she ever been grabbed like that? Any second thoughts about leaving are dashed—she can't pretend to leave now, otherwise it would be "catching" them in the act and make things even more awkward. Her gaze is glued to his hand, finally letting go of Somi before turning off the running water, and hurriedly Yunjin sneaks back to the room. She hears some whispers, and then a small laugh, and then footsteps.

"Hey."

"Hey..." Yunjin stands up and greets you quietly. You spot her socks strewn on the floor.

"So... Somi wants me to do whatever you want."

"I..." She's distracted by you already unbuttoning your shirt, getting flustered. You leave your shirt open and place her hands on it—it is for Yunjin to take off. Her hands tremble in yours, but she doesn't shy away, pulling it down your shoulders and off your arms. Her eyes trail down your body, and they widen as they land on your taut slacks. Yunjin bites her lower lip, and then licks her bitemark.

"Would you like me to treat you like Somi?" Your words jolt Yunjin out of her trance. I wish for what's forbidden...

I am so going to hell.

Yunjin nods, and you immediately pull her in tightly. She lets out something between a whimper and moan as you grab her firm butt—now she's being treated like Somi!

"Oh shit, oh..." she gasps as pleasure floods her body, every knead of your hand seeming to turn her on even more. You leave measured nips on her neck—light enough to not leave a mark, firm enough to not be ignored. Yunjin turns to face you, and she lets you suck on her lower lip, tugging it before letting go and hungrily pressing your lips on hers instead. Yunjin jumps when her hands land on your skin, as if she forgot she had her own hands. She makes up for lost time, hungrily roaming your back and arms, feeling your muscles.

"Y-You do this with Somi?" she gasps as you bring her down to the bed.

"Oh I do a lot more with Somi." Yunjin exhales delightfully when she feels your hand slip under her top, brushing and admiring her abs, abs that she was proud of. But pride goes before the fall, and Yunjin let's out a soft mewl as your hand falls past her abs, teasing her and landing on a creamy thigh. Yunjin is toned and tight in all the right places, and you give her the most sinful of massages, pressing into her thighs, a firm thumb making it's way up her leg.

"M-More." Yunjin's surprised with herself—somehow she hasn't covered her thighs in slick yet with how hot she's feeling right now. At your nudging she takes off her top, and you kiss the slight dip in her petite chest, making her suck a breath in—fuck she needs this! Her hips push off the bed willingly as you slip a hand beneath her shorts. You play with Yunjin over her panties, letting her soak them. She whines and groans before eventually grabbing your arm. Just feeling your muscles makes her want it, and Yunjin begins to speak her desires.

"Finger me." She has no time to react or prepare herself, and a loud cry is the result. Yunjin immediately feels stuffed—that can't be just your finger! Her head spins as you wiggle and curl the finger inside her, her walls resisting your efforts to open her up. One more finger is added, and Yunjin's mouth drops open, much like you are opening her up below.

Fuck! Her thoughts shout as you begin moving, and Yunjin can almost feel your fingerprints in her, pressing against her tense muscles, massaging her from the inside. Her own fingers are nowhere near as thick, and you have two in her! You make sure you are a knuckledragger inside her, curling and pumping her slowly, multiple points of pleasure firing off in her brain as you twist and scissor and push. You turn Yunjin into a mouth-breathing knuckledragger—she's drooling onto the bed, her knuckles grinding on the sheets as she twists and grabs what she can.

"N-No more!" She begs when you touch her entrance with a third finger.

"You can do it." Her pupils are dilated, and her breathing hastens as you slowly push in. Yunjin's mind seems so far away from herself as the pressure inside her compresses her senses, slowing her thoughts down, shrinking the area of her body she needs to feel.

No it's too much, so big, so— "So fucking good!" Yunjin squeals her own disagreement with herself loudly. It is not too much, it is fucking perfect the way your three fingers fuck her—three sparks go down her spine with every push of your hand. She grabs your forearm, feeling the muscles flex as you start pumping them inside her over and over. Her legs spread even more lewdly for you, urging you to get deeper with every moan.

"D-Deeper, more! Please more!" I need this, I'm so close! You can hear Yunjin's thoughts from her pussy, each clench and squelch a prayer for you to make her cum. She moans and throws her head back when you add a fourth finger—not inside her, but on her clit.

"Fuuuuuuuuuck~" Somi's cheeks are red as she listens to Yunjin cry out from her bedroom. There's no doubt you're making her cum, and her hands drift down her body as she remembers what you like to do to her. She wonders if Yunjin can handle it.

"Fuck me! Fuck! Mmm... Oh yes!" Yunjin hushed moans fill the room as she buries her face in the covers, trying not to be embarrassingly loud—she's back to her exuberant self, voicing her pleasure freely. She jerks when you find her g-spot, pressing on it with each finger in sequence. It becomes too much, she's burning white hot, her vision going dark.

"S-Stop, stop! Enough." All of the non-pleasurable sensations rush back at once when your fingers withdraw—stickiness between her legs, sweat on her hair, her legs suddenly sore from being taut for too long—all berating her.

Why the fuck did you tell him to stop?! Yunjin ignores her body's complaints, focusing on a deeper hunger. You already know what she wants as she kicks off her shorts and underwear, and you begin undoing your slacks, your eyes devouring Yunjin just like she's undressing you with her gaze.

"I want you to fuck me like Somi."

"The intimate way or the rough way?" You laugh at her confused expression, like you have truly stumped her.

"There's more than one way?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"I assumed you would just, you know, pound her into the bed, rail her from behind, pull on her hair—" Yunjin pauses when she realizes she's just telling you everything she imagines you and Somi do.

"Well, that's the rough way, I guess."

"What's the intimate way then?"

"Slower, I definitely don't pull her hair, more kisses, a longer session." Fuck yes! Yunjin's hormones rage through her—that's exactly what she wants right now.

"Let's go with that then."

"Sure." You toss off your slacks, and a thrill goes through Yunjin's body as she sees the much more defined outline of your shaft. She lets you roll her over, so that she's prone on the bed, and suddenly the room is dark.

"Mmph!" You're kissing her needily, and her entire body is hot again. She quickly realizes why—you've thrown the covers over both of them, like a couple enjoying a playful night together. She trembles, your hands running down her bare shoulders sending goosebumps up her neck. You leave her for a moment to remove your boxers, and already Yunjin misses your touch. She freezes when you're on top of her, when she realizes your shaft is rubbing at her pussy lips. She's secretly glad you put three fingers in her—there's no way she can take you otherwise! She also remembers something important.

"W-Wait, I'm not safe today. If you cum in me, I might get pregnant."

"You will," you mutter in her ear, and you swear your cock got slicker from rubbing against her pussy. Yunjin looks at you steadily, and you hold her gaze, waiting for her to tell you what she wants. Her expression wavers, your slight movements against her grinding away her common sense, and all she does is turn away from you, burying her face in the pillow. That's all you need from Yunjin.

"Ah..." you groan as you sink into unfamiliar territory, and it is mirrored by a loud muffled moan from Yunjin. She definitely feels a large part of why Somi likes you. "Fuck Yunjin, so tight." She once again can only manage a muffled whine. As she's adjusting around you Yunjin is thrown off by your soft laugh, and even that mere vibration sends sparks through her.

"What?"

"Let's make sure we're equally naked hmm?" Yunjin turns red as she realizes what you mean—throughout all of this, she still had her bra on! You expertly unhook her bra and pull it off her.

"S-Sorry, I know it's not as big as Somi..." she mumbles, gasping as you reach around to fondle her.

"Don't be sorry, I'll let you in on a secret." Yunjin looks at you quizzically. Does he not like Somi's tits? Does he prefer mine? Even if they're smaller? Really? Really?! Unknowingly you dash Yunjin's hopes, but you don't think she minds.

"Guys won't care when they're balls deep in you." You thrust down sharply, burying yourself fully in Yunjin's prone body. You tighten your grip on Yunjin's chest, pulling her up towards you a little as you press your chest down on her back. You groan and grunt into her neck, reveling in her tight wetness, feeling Yunjin clench and gasp around you as your tip touches her cervix.

"Fucking hell Yunjin, I'm right."

"W-What?" she says dreamily, suffocating under the pressure of your body on top of and inside her.

"If I cum in you, you will get pregnant." You whisper in her ear, driving the point home with another deep thrust into her creamy wetness. Yunjin was well aware, and now you know it too—she's ovulating and horny, her hips subtly pushing against you. Pinned and squirming beneath you, Yunjin has never been in a more vulnerable state, her idol career in a precarious position.

Yet she says nothing, choosing to shut you up with a needy kiss, her hand squeezing your hand on her breast, urging you to keep going. You do as she wants.

"Oh fuck!"

Somi sneaks into the room, finding no one immediately. But the moving lump under the covers is not fooling anyone, that and the muffled moans and grunts coming from it. She takes a seat opposite the bed, watching the two pairs of feet do the four feet tango. Just watching those feet is enough to get Somi to slide off her shorts—the smaller pair stay taut together, toes curling and uncurling as they lightly bounce on the bed. The larger pair of feet around them are more spread, pressed into the bed for leverage. Her fingers drift down between her legs, her lazy strokes mimicking the curl of Yunjin's toes—Somi wasn't looking to get herself off just yet.

"More, right there!" At Yunjin's prompting your legs clamp around her slender legs, lifting her feet under yours. Your hips slam against her toned butt, the light smacking sounds of flesh on flesh filling the covers. The smell of sweaty sex snuffs out all of Yunjin's coherent thoughts, your cock driving down on her g-spot sending wild signals through her body. The talkative and loud idol is reduced to a keening and groaning mess.

"Oh fuck..." Yunjin rasps before falling, dropping her head into the pillow before crying out loudly, each wave of pleasure forcing a wail from her. Her entire body is taut beneath you, small tits and toned cheeks shaking and quivering as she clenches around your cock. For a few brief moments Yunjin blanks out, her mind painted over with orgasmic bliss. And then it is over quickly, and she sags into the bed, her breathing labored and hoarse, like she's danced the hardest choreo in her life.

Things would get harder still, and Yunjin finds herself rolled on her side, a leg lifted as you press against her sweaty back. She shuts her eyes at the sudden brightness, blinded by you throwing the covers off—it was getting just a little too hot. You spot Somi at the foot of the bed, and she just does a shooing motion at you, mouthing "Keep going!" while the other hand does small slow circles between her legs. You raise Yunjin's leg just a little higher to give Somi a better view.

"Mmh! Shit! Fuck! Oh my god!" Yunjin's mouth spews foul curses as you literally fuck her sideways, plunging into her slick tightness and going deep on every thrust. You cup a breast, lightly pinching a nipple, and Yunjin croons to the sky. "Yes yes yes!"

I'm going to cum again, he's making me cum again already! Yunjin reels from the pleasure, her own hand drifting to her clit, just a little bit more, just one more touch...

"Nngh!" You grunt, pushing deep into Yunjin and holding yourself there. You throb like mad inside her, but Yunjin's ascent to climax is brought to an abrupt halt.

"D-Did you cum?" she asks confusedly. No, I was so close!

"Very close," you grit your teeth and try to ignore her clenching around you. "Last chance." Yunjin realizes what you mean—you could still pull out, cum on her thighs, or she could offer her face for you, or her mouth. As she looks down her body she finally sees Somi, but she's too aroused to be embarrassed about being watched. Rather, her thoughts go back to what Somi said earlier.

"Speaking of troublesome, oh my god he just explodes in you."

I wish for what's forbidden.

Yunjin hurries to grab your arm, feeling you begin to pull away from her.

"No don't. C-cum in me, do it in me, I want all of it." Her breath catches as a third leg rubs against her calf, teasing her.

"You heard her babe, go ahead and cum, let her feel what you make me feel." Somi's up on the bed beside you, and judging by how her breasts and stiff tips press delightfully against your back, she's naked as well. The angel and the devil—Who’s who? You wonder—are each in an ear, both urging you to sin, urging you to lead Yunjin into sin.

You find Yunjin's neck, taking a harsh suck on her flawless skin—your bite of the forbidden fruit. Your hands go to her hips, and now you're pulling back on her, getting as deep as you can in her. You adjust your angle on every thrust, trying to find the perfect connection, you find it on the fourth try; that, or the pleasure simply becomes too great. Your tip presses against her cervix, and Yunjin seems to arch back a little, opening herself more, and the slight grip on your tip electrifies you.

I'm a—

The first explosion mess makes Yunjin gasp, the sudden warmth filling her womb. The second explosion mess makes her choke on her breath, the thickness and volume of your potent load overwhelming. The third explosion mess triggers her orgasm, as her body reacts primitively to the sensation, wanting to milk you for everything, to contain every fragment of the explosion inside her. Somi helps both of you out, a finger on Yunjin's clit and a hand on your balls, making sure you pour of it into her. She delights when her job is done correctly, a stream of cum leaking out of the connection and onto her thigh. Each rutting thrust from you makes a little more leak out, but you're still sending more into her.

Your grip weakens eventually, and you have to drop Yunjin's leg. But there's no hiding the mess between her legs—Yunjin's been properly mated. You let her roll on her back, and your load is a slow moving flood out of her. She covers her eyes with an arm, a mess and finally in de-stress.

"You okay?" Somi asks.

"Yeah, that was amazing, just... Just give me a moment." Yunjin's ferally satisfied lizard brain ponders what just happened; She just asked Somi to let you fuck her, then she had you cum in her, and she definitely needs a morning after pill now, but she doesn't regret anything at all—it was exactly what she needed.

After all that, Yunjin still blushes when she uncovers her eyes again—Somi's cleaning your cock with her mouth.

"I knew you would want to join in." You quip, running your hand through Somi's hair.

"Hurry up and get hard again."

"Bend over and I will be."

"Typical." Somi fires you a glare, but she does as you say, getting on all fours next to Yunjin. "Was he good?"

"Yeah, it was great. Thanks. Do you want me to—" Yunjin makes to get up, as if to give you two privacy, but Somi stops her.

"No it's fine, besides, I already saw you two, only fair that you get to watch."

"Yeah, I can show you the rough way Yunjin," you offer with a smirk, punctuating it with a sharp thrust into Somi.

"Ah! Fucking give it to me oppa!" Yunjin's entranced by Somi's expression, her white teeth gleaming in a near-maniacal smile even as her brow furrows slightly on every thrust. You did not start off gentle with Somi at all, and if you were getting all the way deep with Yunjin, surely you're smashing into Somi right now? Part of her shudders at the thought of how that would feel; the other part of her gets aroused again.

She's inches from Somi's face, watching the blonde's mouth drop open, moaning freely at your rough treatment. Somi's face slackens, then her eyes shut tight, her tense body not hiding the jiggle of her breasts as you continue to thump into her. In one instant Somi's eyes snap open, and Yunjin's gazing straight into her hazelnut eyes. In the next instant Somi grabs Yunjin and kisses her.

"Nnnghmmmmm!" Somi screams into Yunjin's mouth, her tongue thrashing inside Yunjin as you drive her to a pent-up orgasm. Yunjin feels the rawness of Somi's orgasm, and she leans into the kiss, a hand on her jaw, and soon she's lost in a makeout session, their teeth slightly knocking as you keep the pacing up, pumping Somi through her orgasm. Fresh from her climax Somi is extra into it, and she drifts her own fingers down Yunjin, plunging unhesitatingly into her creamy core.

"Mmm!" Yunjin squeals in surprise, and Somi stops to look at her, biting a lip to stifle her moan a little. Yunjin blushes and nods, and soon her nails are digging into the sheets, curling like Somi's long fingers are doing inside her.

"You can grab her, you know." You put a hand on Somi's scalp and tug, opening her throat to let out loud hearty cries. Yunjin whines when Somi cums again, the busty blonde's fingers quivering and jerking inside of her own pussy. She's a little envious as she watches Somi's tits bounce and jiggle, and without thinking Yunjin reaches out for one globe, squeezing it and marveling at the softness.

"Oh fuck, yes Yunjin, squeeze me!" Somi's lips find Yunjin again, and soon they are moaning against each other. Each thrust you put into Somi shoves her fingers deeper into Yunjin, who in return gropes Somi even harder, her fingers digging into Somi's soft flesh instead of the sheets.

"Fuck, he's so deep!" Somi groans, and Yunjin nods and kisses her again. She knows exactly what Somi means, having just felt that minutes ago, and she lets Somi whine and whimper into her. That is, until you pull on Somi's hair again.

"I can't hear you babe."

"You're too deep fuck! Are you trying to knock me up too? Ah! We only have one morning after pill left, are you going to— Fuck! Decide who's going to take it?" You lean over and grab Somi's other breast, squeezing it alongside Yunjin. It makes Somi whine even louder.

"Depends, which of you is going to cum first?"

Yunjin let's out a surprised moan as Somi starts moving her fingers actively, as if determined to make Yunjin peak first. But she recovers quickly and begins playing with Somi's nipples, pinching and twisting them to produce harsh gasps. You inevitably speed up as you near your own peak, and the ending is a real photo finish.

"Nooooo! Hnnngh!" Somi grunts, peaking when Yunjin scratches a nail across her clit, and the sudden increase in pressure pulls you over the line. Your load bursts from your tip and splatters inside Somi, and the sight of you bent over your girlfriend, growling and no doubt filling her just like you had filled her earlier sends Yunjin over the top, throwing her head back and trapping Somi's hand between her legs, contracting around the fingers mindlessly rubbing on her g-spot. The three of you collapse in a heap, and you quickly roll to the side, catching your breath after two vigorous rounds with the two beauties.

Yunjin finds herself face-to-face with a flushed and satisfied Somi, and tentatively she slips a finger into her friend, feeling how tight and creamy she is, filled with your load.

"Don't... My cum..." Somi sighs, and Yunjin pulls her fingers out just as Somi does the same from her. Their fingers are both coated in your cream, and their thoughts are on the same possessive post-coital wavelength.

My cum now. A soft sigh escapes both of them as they finger themselves, cleaning their digits with their slick. Of course, their juices don't clean it off fully, so when they proceed to finger each other again, trying to get more of your cum from one another, your seed just mixes inside them. They continue swapping cum from pussy to pussy, a collab of the filthiest kind, until the erotic haze of sex and sin finally dissipates, and you're left with two blushing idols. It's a miracle that you don't get a third wind, but you truly had nothing left to give.

"Wow, I... I can't believe I did that." Yunjin voices her thoughts out loud.

"Did it feel good?"

"Yeah, but—"

"That's all that matters then, sometimes you need to cut loose from being an idol, and take care of yourself. You're welcome to use the shower if you want."

"Right, thanks." Yunjin quickly shuffles off to the shower, leaving you to cuddle Somi in bed.

"So you did join us hmm?" You peck Somi on the nose, and she giggles and kisses your chin.

"I'm surprised you didn't get hard again, I don't know what that was at the end but fuck it was hot."

"It was, but I'm all tapped out."

"Yunjin drained you that much huh?"

"Don't get jealous on me now, you wanted me to fuck her. Something about you taking a break for tonight, hmm?" You appease Somi by grabbing her some tissue to help clean herself.

"Fine, you get off easy this time."

Yunjin gets out of the bathroom fully dressed, hair tousled and lightly made up. A pang of envy goes through her as she sees you two cuddling together—maybe she too could have that one day, but not right now.

"Thanks for letting me use your shower."

"Of course. Oh wait one sec." Somi jumps out from the covers, thankfully covered in your oversized shirt, and quickly ducks into the bathroom. She comes back with a pill for Yunjin. "Here, you should take it."

"Y-You said there was only one, won't you get... pregnant?"

"It was a joke,” Somi presents her own identical pill to Yunjin. She leans in to whisper. “It makes him go a little harder, he thinks I don't know it, but he gets off on that super hard."

"Oh... okay, thanks then." Yunjin blushes at Somi discussing your kink so freely. The two of them walk out of the bedroom arm in arm, and Somi gets each of them a glass of water before downing the pills.

"There, like nothing ever happened." Somi fires Yunjin a glance, her intention clear—this never happened.

"Right, yes." Yunjin pauses as she walks to the door. "What about the collab?"

"Well, we've already worked together on oppa, I guess we can work on a song too." Somi jokes crudely, but her smile is kind. "I'll let you know?"

"Sure, thanks Somi!"

Back at the dorm Yunjin dodges many questions, most of all why did she need to shower at Somi's place, but she manages to explain it away as a bad kimchi stew spill. As Yunjin sinks back into her bed though she can't help but think of what just happened. How she already wants it again.

I need what's forbidden... I am so fucked.

She turns her head into her pillow and moans.

A/N: Welp, that was a smut alright. I will say, surprisingly Le Sserafim’s song lyrics lend a lot to inspiring fics, I guess that’s a good thing? I tried to do a play on their title name for the title of this fic, but eh, not my best effort there. Anyways, I really like the song, especially when they had that first verse in their MMA show, that Hydra performance is sick. Thanks for reading!

#smut #huh yunjin #somi #le sserafim

998 notes · View notes

cleo-fox · 3 months

Text

Wildest Dreams

Summary: It's nearing ten o’clock at night and James Conrad is standing on your doorstep.

Pairing: James Conrad x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex (female receiving), friends to lovers, mutual pining.

A/N: Sometimes, you're having a conversation with @sarahscribbles and something she says triggers your latent James Conrad brainrot and words happen. Saz, this is dedicated to you. 😘 (Also, everyone go read her stuff).

It's nearing ten o’clock at night and James Conrad is standing on your doorstep.

You didn’t even think he was in the country—last you’d heard, he was somewhere in Vietnam. Not that he was exactly keeping you apprised of his movements. The nature of his work means that he turns up or calls unexpectedly and sends letters inconsistently. It’s something that you’ve grown used to over the years—you’ve had no other choice, really.

The question, though, of whether or not you’ll be waiting for him is not really a question so much as it is an inevitability. Of course you will. You always will. Like it or not, the man is your weakness, your Achilles heel, the crack in your armor.

Your hands shake as you fumble with the latch and chain and open the door.

There’s a moment where you catch his first, unguarded expression—a flicker of relief, so quick you might miss it if you didn’t know him as well as you do. It strikes you as odd—you’d expect him to be glad to see you, perhaps, but relieved? Not necessarily. Especially not after the last time you’d seen him—that disastrous Christmas two years ago when wine and seasonal sadness had prompted you to say more than you intended about your feelings for him.

He’d said you were better off as friends.

It still stings, even thinking of it now. You haven’t spoken of it since. He hadn’t been back since then, either—that in and of itself wasn’t necessarily unusual for him, but you couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to his absence this time around.

Before you can think about whether it’s a good idea, you’re stepping forward to embrace him. You always forget how tall he is, how he takes up space and towers over you, how that makes you feel small and safe. He still smells the same—Ivory soap with a hint of cloves and a little bit of musk—and your name still sounds too good in that deep purr of a baritone.

“It’s good to see you,” he says into your ear.

Is it just you or is he holding you awfully tight?

It’s probably just you. Isn’t that the sad theme of all of this? Just you with the feelings, just you with the broken heart. Just you, secretly pining for him since university and having it all come to nothing. Just you. Alone as always.

“You too,” you say, even though seeing him makes all the old bruises and scars on your heart ache with a renewed fervor. You release him and gesture to your door. “Come in.”

You notice a cut on his left cheek, a small, yellowing bruise blooming around the edges of it. It must be a few days old. He carries a duffle bag slung over his back—a huge, beat up leather thing he’s had since university. He sets it on the floor as you lock up behind him.

“What are you doing here?” spills out of your mouth before you can think about how it sounds, despite the fact that your eyes are drinking him in like he’s water in a desert. “I thought you were in Vietnam.”

“Pacific,” he says. There’s a slight shadow in his expression, like there’s something he doesn’t want to say. “Just got back this evening.”

“Do you want tea?” It’s the only thing you can think to do.

“Please,” he says.

You don’t need to ask him how he takes it because you know. English Breakfast, splash of cream, no sugar. You could make it in your sleep.

You busy yourself in the kitchen, fishing out a packet of shortbread biscuits from the back of your cupboard while the kettle boils. Out of habit, you take out the pair of chipped mugs you’ve had since university. You’d unintentionally taken one from the refectory during a particularly sleepless week in the middle of exams and been too embarrassed to return it. He’d teased you about it at first, but he had then stolen his own mug the following week in what he described as “solidarity with your crimes.” When you moved into your first apartment, he’d given you his as a housewarming gift.

“This could really hurt my career if they found out about it,” he’d said solemnly as his eyes danced with barely repressed laughter. “I thought it would be best to give it to you for safe keeping.”

You’d rolled your eyes and laughed at him then, but you always wrapped them extra carefully when you moved—as though by keeping those mugs whole, you could also keep Conrad safe.

The faint ghost of a smile that you catch when you bring the tea and biscuits out to the living room warms your heart and gives you a little spark of hope. Perhaps all isn’t lost. Maybe things can go back to the way they were before that disaster of a Christmas.

You set the mugs and shortbread down on the table and take your seat next to him on the couch.

Your tea is still too hot, but you pick it up anyway, just to give your hands something to do. Maybe the slight sting of the hot ceramic against your palms will help you keep you grounded.

“I presume you’re not telling me where in the Pacific for a reason,” you say.

He nods. “Correct.”

He looks tired, you think. There’s a tightness in his jaw that’s new, a distant look in his eyes that seems different than his usual brand of stoicism. You want to be annoyed by his lack of detail, but the weariness makes you pause.

“Are you all right?” you ask.

His laugh is short and humorless. “As I ever was.”

You tilt your head. “That’s not really an answer.”

He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “It was a difficult job.” He pauses for a moment, his gaze sliding to the wall across the room, to a landscape painting you’d found at a thrift shop. “I didn't know if I’d make it back, to be quite honest.”

You’ve never seen him like this before and it’s somewhere beyond disorienting. Conrad is ruthlessly capable and appropriately confident; the idea of something being beyond his skill set is baffling as it is unsettling.

“I’m glad you did,” you say softly.

You expect him to give you a slight half smile, perhaps nudge his shoulder against yours. But instead, his gaze remains fixed on the middle distance, an odd, melancholy sort of cast to his blue eyes.

“You don’t really seem like you’re all right,” you say gently.

There at last is that little half smile that you were expecting. Somehow, it’s less comforting than you thought it would be.

“There’s a certain amount of clarity that you get from an experience like that,” he says evenly. “You're forced to confront a lot of things. Choices you’ve made. People you’ve hurt.”

You think he’s referring to what happened two years ago and you try not to flinch. He can’t know that you still think about that, that you’re still hurting. That you haven’t stopped loving him, even though you’ve pretended that you have.

He pauses for another moment, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “In the moments when I thought I wasn’t coming back, the only thing I could think about was you.”

Air vanishes from your lungs. You’re afraid to even hope, as if even acknowledging the possibility would jinx it.

“What do you mean by that?” you ask, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

He finally looks at you and your heart creeps into your throat. “I was not entirely honest with you at Christmas.”

You realize that you’re holding your breath, but you can’t help it.

“I thought that by turning you away, I was keeping you safe,” he says. “I thought by hiding the truth, I was saving you from a lot of pain.”

Your heart is pounding. You lick your lips. If he means what you hope he means, you need to hear him say it—you can’t believe it otherwise.

“And what is the truth, James?” Your voice wobbles just a little bit.

His gaze is locked on you, infinite as the stars. “The truth is that I’ve been in love with you for years,” he says softly. “And when I thought I wasn’t coming back, all I could think about was how much I regretted not telling you.”

In the moments leading up to this, it felt as though time was slowing. This is the moment, though, where everything stops. In this moment, it’s just the two of you—Conrad with those devastating blue eyes that peer right into your soul and you with your broken heart and wounded pride.

He wanted you all this time.

You raise a shaking hand to wipe away the tear that’s somehow escaped the corner of your eye.

All this time.

“You have every right to be angry with me.” His voice is low and soft, just for you to hear. “And I understand if you need time. But I came here tonight to tell you that if you still want me, I’m yours.”

You are feeling entirely too much. You want to kiss him. You want to scream at him. You want to hold him and never let go.

All this time.

“James, I—” Your voice catches in your throat and you take a deep breath, fighting back a sob that’s bubbling in your chest. You set your tea back down on the table. Your hands are shaking.

“I—I don’t even know where to start. I—” Your voice catches again on that sob in your chest. You pause again to collect yourself. You open your mouth to speak and a strangled sort of laugh tumbles from your lips instead.

“God.” You wipe another stray tear from your cheek. “You’re such a fucking idiot. I mean, not just for making all those assumptions about what was best for me, but also just—” Your voice catches again and you pause. “I never stopped wanting you.”

The corner of his mouth twitches slightly and there’s a flicker of something like hope in his eyes. “Does that mean you’ve forgiven me?”

You take a shaky breath. “Yes and no.” You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand. “You should have asked me if safe was what I wanted, instead of just making that decision for me.”

He nods. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing is safe, James,” you continue. “It’s an illusion at best. You could live a perfectly dull life in the suburbs and be hit by a bus on your way to your perfectly dull job.” You pause, weighing the words that you want to say next. “I never wanted safe,” you say, your voice catching again in your throat. “I just wanted you.”

There’s a moment of quiet and Conrad looks well and truly chastened.

You take another deep breath and reach for his hand. The look that he gives you then—like he’s afraid to hope that youstill want him—is almost enough to make you abandon what you want to say next and kiss him on the spot.

“I know what I want,” you say quietly. “I understand the risks. You don’t need to throw yourself on the sword to protect me and you certainly don’t need to make those decisions for me. I need you to understand that if this is going to work.”

He nods. “I do.”

“Okay.” You exhale. “Will you shut up and kiss me now?”

The look of relief on his face is like sunshine.

“Come here,” he says softly, pulling you into his lap, your legs framing his hips. He cups your face in his hands, looking at you like you’re something wonderful, like he can’t believe you’re his.

Then he takes a deep breath and finally closes the gap between you.

You’ve waited years for this kiss. From the early days of your friendship coalescing around late nights and stale coffee and jokes that are only funny at two o’clock in the morning to the agony of watching him leave for basic training and then Vietnam and god knows where else. This kiss was never guaranteed—and in part, that’s why it’s so good. It could have been taken from you by any number of dangers or even just Conrad’s own foolish need to protect you.

But you finally have it and it’s everything you had thought it would be.

His mouth is slow and soft against yours, his tongue moving in a gentle caress that makes you feel every year of waiting and yearning and hoping. You mourn the years lost, but you can’t help but savor how perfect it feels as a result. Your hands map the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones as your tongue traces the soft line of his lips. You want to remember every part of this moment—every part of him.

It’s a few minutes later when you part, both of you slightly breathless. You rest your forehead against his.

“I shouldn’t have waited so long,” he says softly. His eyes are still shut.

You press your lips against his forehead. “Make it up to me, then.”

He slides a hand up to the back of your neck and pulls you back into another kiss.

You can feel the press of his growing erection against your thigh, but for now, it’s enough to just kiss him, to let your body melt against his and feel his hands in your hair, on your hips, framing your face. He makes a low, soft noise in the back of his throat when you nip at his lower lip, somewhere between a moan and a sigh and you think it might be the best sound you’ve ever heard.

But the longer you kiss him, the more you want, and it slowly begins to build a far more frantic need low in your hips. His hands become bolder, sliding along the curve of your waist and hips, stroking your thighs, squeezing your ass as he pulls you ever closer. You, in turn, press yourself more firmly against him, rolling your hips against his until he makes that low groaning sound that leaves you weak.

But it’s his hand wandering up to slip that first button on your blouse that makes you pull away from him, breathless.

“Bed?” You intend it as a question, but it sounds a little more like a plea.

His smile is devilish as he undoes the second button. “I thought you’d never ask.” His gaze slides back down to your open blouse and he quickly slips the third and fourth buttons.

“I thought we were going to bed,” you say with a smirk as the final two buttons come undone.

“We are,” he says as he pulls your blouse off your shoulders. You shiver under the weight of his gaze as he stares greedily at your breasts.

“You seem a little distracted,” you say.

“Well, I can’t very well leave a job undone,” he says, trailing a finger along the scalloped edge of your bra. “It wouldn’t be proper.”

“Yes, you seem deeply concerned with propriety,” you say, shooting a pointed glance at his finger.

“Very much so,” he murmurs, his fingertips caressing the curve of your breast and then skimming behind your back to unhook the clasp in one single, swift motion.

The straps slip down off your shoulders and he tugs the garment away from you.

He lets out a low groan as he looks at you, which sends a bolt of slick desire straight to your cunt. His hands cup your breasts.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, rolling his thumbs against the sensitive skin of your nipples. You squirm slightly in his lap and he gets a devilish look in his eyes.

His mouth quickly replaces his right hand on your breast.

He’s too good with his mouth. That’s the first thought you have as his lips and tongue cover your breast. But then he catches your nipple between his teeth and gently teases and pulls at the sensitive skin until it puckers and hardens in the heat of his mouth. Your hands rake through his hair, curling into a fist when he finds a particularly good spot. You are arching into his touch, your hips rolling mindlessly against his.

“James,” you gasp out. “Bed, please.”

He laughs quietly against your breast. You expect him to release you, but instead he moves his mouth to your right breast.

“Fuck,” you hiss as his tongue and teeth exert the same kind of blissful madness on your right breast while his hand kneads and teases the left.

You find yourself torn between begging him not to stop and begging him to take you to bed and you’re honestly not sure which one you want more. But a minute or so later, he releases you, lips curling into a smirk.

“I think you enjoyed that impropriety,” he says, eyes sparkling with a combination of desire and laughter that leaves you dizzy.

“You’re on thin ice, James Conrad,” you say, though you can’t hide your smile.

Desire overshadows the laughter in his expression, like the moon eclipsing the sun. “Let me take you to bed and earn my forgiveness, then,” he says.

You slide off his lap onto wobbly legs, but you don’t have to worry about it for very long because he immediately sweeps you into his arms and carries you down the hall to your bedroom.

In your room, he sets you down on your bed and divests you of your jeans with such speed and efficiency you find yourself wondering if it was part of his training.

You slide back on the unmade bed, looking up at him as he looms above you, handsome and a little dangerous in the moonlight that breaks through your curtains.

He allows himself a moment to just look at you, his gaze moving slowly up your body, drinking you in like he’ll never have enough.

Finally, he crawls onto the bed, his gaze intent and hungry, filled with purpose.

He stops at your hips, spreading your thighs wide, licking his lips as he looks you over before lowering himself to kiss the gusset of your underwear.

You can feel the hot rush of his breath against your cunt, the thin, damp fabric the only thing that separates you from the warmth of his mouth. He kisses the fabric again, his nose nudging against your clit.

“James,” you choke out.

This is all he needs tonight. His hands immediately go to your waistband and pull the fabric down and off your hips.

You both groan at the first brush of his mouth against your cunt, though the noise you make is admittedly much closer to a whimper. His tongue circles your clit slowly at first, teasing and tasting and testing until he finds the motion that makes you gasp his name.

You’d thought he was joking about earning your forgiveness, but the way he moves is as though he believes his absolution is truly on the line.

Or maybe he’s just really good at this, you think. It might not be that deep. You don’t need to overth—

Almost as though he can tell that too many of your brain cells are available for coherent thought, he slides one long index finger into you, curling and searching until he finds the spot that makes you gasp and dig your heels into the firm muscles of his back.

He’s building a warm, whirling tension in your hips, burning bright as a meteor about to strike. You grasp at the bed sheets as the rolling crescendo of sensation threatens to overwhelm you.

His free hand snakes up to find yours clasped in the sheets. His fingers twine with yours.

Something about this little gesture of affection after all those years of wanting and hoping strikes at something deep within you. You’ve never loved anyone like you’ve loved him. You don’t know that you ever will love anyone like you love him.

And maybe it’s that thought, or maybe it’s just a coincidence, but this is the moment you come completely undone.

You cry out as your back arches, pleasure rushing through you. His grip on your hand feels like the only thing keeping you tethered to reality as your whole body succumbs to the feeling. He slows the pace of his tongue to match the rolling swells of the aftershocks as they roll through you.

“James.” It’s the first coherent word you say and he draws away from your cunt reluctantly, though not before placing a soft, lingering kiss against your clit.

Before you can make a joke about how he’s overdressed, he’s sitting up and peeling that ridiculously tight shirt over his head. Your lips part as you feast your eyes on that beautiful expanse of muscle, firm and perfectly sculpted—

—and painted with a massive bruise across his ribs, brilliant and purple as a sunset.

Your post-orgasmic stupor is momentarily forgotten as you roll to your knees, crawling over to him. “You’re hurt.”

He looks confused for a moment before following the path of your gaze. “Oh, that. It’s nothing. Looks a lot worse than it is.”

“The same way your broken finger was nothing?” you say, fingertips trailing to just beneath the edges of the bruise. The broken finger had happened in your last year of university during an unsanctioned game of rugby. He had insisted it was just sprained, even though it was nearly black in color. You knew better and had dragged him to the hospital, where he was informed that not only was his finger broken, but that it was so badly broken that he’d need surgery to set it. Over the years, it had evolved into your go-to example of why he needed to listen to you, the damning piece of evidence that proved he could be too stoic and hardheaded for his own good.

Privately, though, it was also your way of saying that you cared about him, that you worried that his high tolerance for pain and admittedly impressive abilities might lead to him not asking for help when he needed it.

He rolls his eyes, but his gaze is fond. “You’re never going to drop that, are you?”

“Never. You should know that by now.” You put your hands on his shoulders. Should you tell him what you feel? You hesitate for just a moment, but it’s enough for him to notice.

“What is it?” he asks.

You suck in a deep breath. “I want you to be okay with me caring about you.” Your voice is softer than you intend.

He frowns slightly and places his hands on your hips. “How do you mean?”

“Stuff like this,” you say, tracing the edge of the bruise. “I know you say it’s nothing but…” You swallow. “And maybe it is but…you’ve always acted a little like my caring about you—even as a friend—was this massive liability for me.” You place your hand over the bruise. “And it’s never felt that way to me at all.”

You can’t quite read his expression. “What does it feel like?” he asks.

You move your hand over his heart, feeling the steady, even beat under your fingers. “Like you’re someone that I love and I want you to be okay,” you say softly. “Is that really so horrible?”

He runs a thumb along your jaw, leaning his forehead against yours. “Not at all,” he says.

You pause for a moment, your hand on his heart. “I just—I don’t want safe, okay? Just you. Let’s start with that.”

“Okay.” His eyes trail down your face to your lips, but he waits for you to close the gap.

You do.

There’s a part of you that wonders if you said too much too soon, if you have instead succeeded in scaring him off, but he kisses you so deeply that it immediately mutes your anxiety, blunting the cacophony of your fears into a muffled background noise that’s easy to dismiss. When your hand starts to drift toward his belt buckle, he pulls away, the desire in his eyes setting your body aflame. “On your back, my lovely,” he says softly.

You lie back on the bed, staring greedily as he finishes undressing.

He cuts a striking figure, lit by the moonlight streaming in through the curtains. Even with that wicked bruise splashed across his ribs, he still looks like something divine and he’s staring at you like you’re equally remarkable. The thought makes you shiver.

The mattress dips as he crawls back onto the bed and positions himself over your body.

The tip of his cock nudges against your stomach. You reach between your bodies, wrapping your fingers around the hard length of him. He’s long and thick, big in a way that makes your toes curl in anticipation. A low, pleased groan rumbles in his chest.

He leans in to kiss you as you stroke him slowly, savoring every sound he makes, every sharp intake of breath. After a moment, he places his hand over yours, guiding your hand away. You angle your hips up toward him, wrapping one leg around his waist.

He presses the tip of his cock against your soaking cunt and you suck in a sharp breath. He looks at you and grins as he slowly drags his cock from your entrance to your clit and back, coating himself in your slickness.

“You’re a tease,” you say.

“Just making sure you’re ready for me,” he says, eyes glinting too much for that to be the whole truth.

“I can tell when you’re lying, you know.”

The tip of his cock slowly slips inside you and you gasp.

“Can you?” he says casually, like you’re just having a chat over drinks. He eases back out.

“What happened to the man who was going to earn his forgiveness?” you say.

He grins, pressing his cock back against your entrance. “Oh, I think you’re enjoying this.”

It’s a difficult assertion to deny, especially with the way he rocks into you slowly, each time going just a little deeper—but never quite deep enough—before drawing back. It’s not long before your hips are rocking with his, urging him deeper.

“More,” you breathe.

A smirk curls at his lips. “More?”

You don’t know that you have the words to describe the particular empty ache you feel, or the fact that you know it’s only going to be soothed by the steady, rocking thrust of his cock fully inside you. “Please,” you say instead. “Please.”

“I’ve waited too long not to savor you,” he says. He eases inside you another inch or so before pausing.

“James.” There’s desperation in your voice that you’ve never heard before, a slight whimper that makes you feel wild with need. “I need you.”

“You’ll have me, darling,” he says as he leans in to kiss you. He’s easing forward slowly, but this time, he keeps going until he’s buried to the hilt, hips flush against yours. You whimper, relishing the feeling of him inside you, close as you can be.

“Good girl,” he murmurs against your lips. “I knew you could take me.”

You can’t help the way your body reacts to his praise or the soft moan that falls from your lips.

He notices. Of course he does. You feel him smirk as he kisses you and he pulls back slightly to look at you. “Do you like hearing me call you my good girl?”

You nod, but you don’t need to—your cunt flutters around him, tensing.

“Oh, I can feel how much you like that.” He lowers his voice. “My lovely, good girl.”

He slowly rocks his hips once and your breath hitches.

“So very, very good,” he purrs. “You’re taking me so well, darling. And every time I call you my good girl, you feel even better.”

You shudder again as he settles into a devastatingly slow rhythm. Maybe it’s his size or maybe he just knows his angles, but he’s hitting every sensitive place inside you in just the right way and god, you never want him to stop.

“Do you want to be very good for me?” he says in that same low voice.

“Yes,” you breathe. It’s hard to describe how much you want to please him, how much you want him to say your name in that low, deep purr of a voice and tell you that you feel incredible, that you’re doing so well for him. You want to give yourself over to him, let him claim you as his.

“If you want to be very good for me,” he continues, “you’ll come on my cock.”

“Yes,” you say. “Please.”

“Let’s see what we can do about that.” He’s shifting his weight slightly, propping himself up on his left arm, bringing his right hand to your clit. His fingers slowly roll over the throbbing bundle of nerves and you moan.

“Oh, that feels good, doesn’t it?” he says. “I don’t think you’re going to last very long if I keep doing this.”

You whimper something that might have been words at one point, but disintegrated into an unintelligible mess of vowels and consonants somewhere between your brain and your mouth.

“In fact,” he says, his voice dropping impossibly low, “maybe you’re going to be a very, very good girl and come more than once on my cock.”

You whimper, your hips rolling with his. The combination of his fingers on your clit and his cock inside of you is driving you crazy, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Can you do that for me, sweetheart?” he rasps. “Can you be a good girl and come on my cock?”

You can feel your orgasm building, that coil in your hips winding tighter and tighter. You nod.

“Look at me and tell me what you want,” he says.

“I—yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I want to come.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not what I said.”

“I want to come on your cock.”

“Still not quite right.”

Something like a combination of a laugh and a whine falls from your lips. “James—”

“I want to hear you say it, love. All of it.”

“Fuck—” You can feel yourself inching closer to the edge.

“Tell me.”

“I want—” You shudder against your impending release. “I want…I want to be a good girl—and come on your cock.”

“Good girl,” he purrs, increasing his pace ever so slightly. “Now come for me.”

You’re not sure if it’s the fact that he made you say it out loud or because he told you to come or if it’s just a very well timed coincidence. Either way, your back is suddenly arching and your cunt is clamping down hard on his cock as you careen into an orgasm that makes your whole body tremble.

But as good as it feels, you can’t help but be captivated by Conrad—the way he slows his pace, the sound he makes. You can tell he’s struggling to stay in control and the fact that a man noted for his cool head and ruthless calm is struggling to keep his composure because of how you are making him feel is somewhere beyond incredible.

He pauses for a moment, seemingly to collect himself. He looks at you as you tremble through the aftershocks, drinking you in like he can’t quite believe the wonder of what he’s seeing.

“You’re heavenly,” he says softly.

You reach for him and he leans down to kiss you, his hips still moving at that agonizingly slow pace.

“I think it’s your turn, though,” you murmur against his lips.

He draws back and that intense, hungry look is back. “My turn?” he says, raising an eyebrow. “Did you not tell me you were going to be a good girl for me?”

“I just came on your cock,” you say. “Wasn’t that the agreement?”

“I believe I said that if you were very good, you would come more than once.” He accompanies this with a sharp thrust of his hips as he lowers his lips to your ear. “And I know you want to be very good.”

Your breath is already hitching, your back arching as your legs lock around his waist. “Fuck.”

His voice has dropped again to that low growl. “Do you know how utterly incredible you feel when you come?”

His fingers are back at your clit and you whine.

“It took every ounce of my strength not to spill myself inside you the moment your sweet cunt started trembling around me.” His breath is hot on your ear and you can’t help the way that your muscles clench around him.

He groans low in your ear. “Fuck. Yes. Like that.”

His pace is still so slow and steady and that almost makes the buildup more unbearable. You don’t understand how you’re already so close, but you can feel the tide of your orgasm rising once again.

“Oh god,” you moan.

“I can feel how close you are,” he growls. “And I’m not going to be able to hold back.”

“Come for me,” you say, your voice rough with desperation.

“You first,” he says. “Then I’ll make you mine.”

“I’ve always been yours,” you choke out before your voice cuts off with a cry as your orgasm starts to crest. It’s just as intense as your last one—the edges of your vision go white and fuzzy and you let out a primal moan.

Conrad’s pace increases as he fucks you through it, his mouth open in a soundless gasp.

“James,” you whimper.

He lets out a low moan seconds before you feel the warmth of his release inside you.

He leans down to kiss you and it’s as though you’re both moving through molasses—every touch, every sound feels slow and sweet. He finally lets his head drop to your shoulder when his hips still. He exhales slowly, the heat of his breath warming your shoulder.

“We should have been doing this for years,” he says after a moment.

“I mean, there was a reason why I called you a fucking idiot earlier.”

He lifts his head to look at you and he’s failing to hide his smile. “I suppose that’s difficult to dispute.”

You press a kiss against his forehead. “You can keep earning my forgiveness. I certainly enjoyed this first attempt.”

“Mmm, I have several other ideas.” He kisses you softly and slowly before slowly pulling away. “But let’s get cleaned up.”

He makes you stay in bed while he fetches a wet washcloth from your bathroom and carefully cleans you up. It’s sweet and intimate in a way you don’t expect—no one’s ever done this for you before.

He returns to bed and you curl up together, your cheek resting on his chest, his fingers tracing patterns on your shoulder.

You’re quiet for a bit, mulling the question that sits on the tip of your tongue like the sword of Damocles, ready to fall and smash your easy peace to bits.

“What is it?” asks Conrad before you can summon the courage.

“Hmm?” you say, though you’re pretty sure he’s going to see through your lie.

“You’ve got something on your mind.”

You pause, wetting your lips. “How long are you in town?”

His grip on you tightens, like he understands. “For now, as long as you want me to be.”

You lift your head to give him a skeptical look. He strokes your cheek.

“I’ll have another job eventually,” he says. “But not quite yet.”

“Okay,” you say.

He’s quiet for a moment. “This part of it…it’s not going to be easy.”

You hear the unspoken part of this—he’s giving you a chance to back out, to call this a one off, to keep yourself safe.

“Once again, I never said I wanted easy,” you say. “I just want you.”

He draws you closer, pressing a kiss to the top of you head. “You have me, my love,” he murmurs. “I’ve always been yours.”

#james conrad smut #james conrad x reader smut #james conrad x reader #james conrad x female reader #james conrad x female reader smut #james conrad x reader fanfic #james conrad x yn smut #james conrad x yn #james conrad x you smut

308 notes · View notes

celandeline · 3 months

Note

I had an idea for a Farleigh one shot where you’re kind of a “friends with benefits” type situation. You certainly aren’t “dating” but it’s very clear you’re together type thing. He ends up getting with someone else, you obviously aren’t happy, so you bring a different guy to a Halloween party at Saltburn after ignoring Farleigh for a bit. I’d love for you to write it if you’d want to!! I absolutely LOVE your writing!! 💕🫶🏻

anything for you baby <3

i did take some creative liberties, since Halloween is during the fall semester i set it at Oxford, but i hope you still like it!

Together-Together

For two months now, you’ve considered Farleigh ‘yours’, in a sense.

It’s an unspoken ownership that goes two ways - you spend most of your time together after all, given that you’re in most of the same classes and are both members of Felix’s little circle. It’s only natural that you’ve grown to like him, underneath the bitchy persona he puts on for Felix’s entertainment - and, based on the fact that he holds your hand when he fucks you, you assume that he likes you too. You’re not together - you’ve never discussed being together - but at the same time, you are.

So when you watch him press some guy dressed as a sexy Dracula up against the wall like he’s going to kiss him, you get a little mad. Rightfully so, in your opinion.

“What the fuck.” You say, louder than you intend to. Next to you, Annabel turns away from the makeshift bar (two folding tables manned by some guys you recognize from the rowing team), and follows your line of sight, zeroing in on Farleigh and his guy on the other side of the common room.

“What the fuck.” Annabel agrees with you, pulling you closer to her so that she doesn’t have to shout over the music. “I thought you guys were fucking?”

“We are.” You say, still watching Farleigh over her shoulder. It’s like watching a car wreck - you can’t look away as he leans down to whisper in his ear, a flirtatious grin on his face. You can’t hear what he says - of course not, the music is loud enough to shake the walls of the dorm - but your stomach sinks anyway. “I mean, I thought we were.”

“Then what the fuck is he doing?” Annabel sounds more pissed than you feel, which almost makes you laugh - until you watch that boy nip at Farleigh’s earlobe and another rush of anger shoots through you.

“I don’t know.” You say. It’s the first time - you think, at least - that this has happened since the first time you fucked. Technically, he’s not doing anything wrong, you’re decidedly not together, but it still feels like he’s cheating. He was the one who extended you an invite to this party, anyway - you picked out costumes together. Granted, they aren’t matching, but the principle still stands.

Annabel scoffs, rolling her eyes as she sips at her drink. “He’s such a bitch sometimes.” She says. “I can’t understand why you hang out with him so much.”

Because you like him. The words dance on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t say them, too busy watching Farleigh mouth at the boy's neck, his arm that isn’t leaning up against the wall sliding around the guys waist. Bile rises in your throat. “I’ve gotta use the loo.”

You don’t hear what Annabel says as you pull away, pushing through the crowds of your peers until you reach the communal bathrooms and shoulder the door open, darting into the nearest stall and locking the door behind you. You sit down on the toilet seat, staring ahead at the inoffensive gray of the stall door, the image of Farleigh feeling up someone else replaying in your head.

Fuck.

You shouldn't feel as upset as you do. You’re not together. You just spend most of your day with him and hang out with all the same people and fuck on the regular. And sometimes he tells you that he loves you when he’s drunk. But you’re not together. So, technically, he can do whatever - whoever - he wants.

And that means you can too, if you want.

You don’t really want to - you’d thought, since Farleigh asked you to come to this party, you’d get drunk together and leave early to share a joint and fuck like you normally do - but obviously, he’s not an option anymore, at least for tonight. It’s whatever - if he’s going to fuck someone else, so will you. You don’t care.

New resolve built, you rise from the toilet seat and walk out of the stall, fluffing your hair in the mirror before heading back into the fray of the common room. With new vigor, you dive into the crowd of dancing Oxford students, passing a sexy Marie Antoinette and a poor attempt at a fireman making out to get truly into the throng. With only the makeshift neon lights scattered about the common room as lighting, it’s hard to see anyone’s faces, so you don’t bother, grinning up at the first guy who saunters up to you.

“Hi.” You say, looking up at what you think is supposed to be Magic Mike. Or maybe one of the men in black gone sexy?

“Hey.” Your guy grins down at you. “Nice costume.”

You glance down at the half decent princess costume you’d gone out shopping with Farleigh for yesterday. “Thanks, you too.” You say. “Wanna dance?”

You wake up to the sound of someone banging on your dorm room door.

The sharp pounding reverberates through your skull, and you groan, lifting your head off your pillow and forcing your eyes open. Your eyelashes, stuck together with last night's mascara, have to be pried apart with your fingers. You trip out of the sheets, and the guy from last night - Evan, you think his name was - grumbles in his sleep. Dressed only in one of Farleigh’s tee shirts he left here who knows when, you pull open the door.

“What the hell do you-” You start, only to have the anger die in your throat when you see exactly who is standing in front of you. Farleigh, looking like he also just rolled out of bed, brushes past you into your room, his eyes set on the guy sleeping in your bed. “Farleigh?”

Farleigh pays you no mind, ripping the sheet from Evan in one motion. Evan squawks, eyes shooting open to see Farleigh looking down at him. Evan just blinks up at him for a moment, before, “Who the hell are you-?”

At the same time, you round on Farleigh, yanking your bedsheets out of his grip. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You hiss. “We were asleep-”

Farleigh’s gaze is still locked on Evan. “Get the fuck out.”

You laugh, mean and loud. “Oh, that’s rich.” You say. “You’ve got no fucking right, Start.”

Evan scrambles out of bed, gathering the few belongings he’d had with him when you’d tumbled into bed with him last night and dashing out the door, muttering, “Didn’t know you had a boyfriend…” as he passes you. Farleigh slams the door shut behind him, and for a moment the room is quiet.

You toss your balled-up bedsheets back onto the mattress, and tip your chin up to look him in the eye, the image of him feeling up some guy replaying in your mind. “Well?”

“Well what?” He snaps back, tilting his head to the side. “Since when do you just bring random guys home?”

“Since when do you?” I turn it back around on him. “You’re a massive fucking hypocrite-”

He rolls his eyes, smiling in that way that tells you he’s really pissed off. “Maybe I just wanted some dick.”

“Maybe I did too.” You say.

“Then why-” He starts, and then stops himself. “I thought that’s what I was for.”

“Well, you seemed like you were busy.” You snark. “What’s it matter anyway? It’s not like we’re together or anything, you’ve got no grounds to be jealous.”

“Neither do you.” He says, leaning down to get in your face. The smell of cigarettes is heavy on his breath as his eyes bore into yours. “It’s not like you to bring home some other guy, and Annabel told me you made yourself scarce after you guys saw me and Kieran. Sounds to me like blondie was a revenge fuck.”

You have to stop yourself from bristling when he says the guy's name. Kieran. You’re not together. You have no right to be as possessive as your heart is telling you to be, but at the same time, he had no right to barge into your room and kick Evan out.

“Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't.” You say, unwavering despite how close he is to you. “You still didn’t have any right to kick him out. We’re not together.”

You can see the wheels turning in his head as he bites into the side of his cheek. You’ve never seen him this angry, ever - not even at Felix. It’s a little vindicating, watching him get so worked up by something that was really his fault to begin with, and you have to stop yourself from grinning as he opens and closes his mouth.

“Well.” He says. “Maybe we should be. Together.”

The words are sharp, and pierce through you one after another like bullets. “What, that’s how you’re going to ask?” You snap back.

He rolls his eyes, his lips pressing into a thin line before he’s pulling you to him and kissing you like he’s hungry for it, all teeth and tongue. You pour yourself into him, grabbing at his shoulders and sweeping your tongue over any part of his mouth you can reach, your teeth finding purchase in his bottom lip. You bite down hard, and he groans, fingers digging into your hips.

He pulls back, brow drawn. “Ow.”

“You are such a dick.” You say, tugging on his shirt until he pulls it off. You back him towards your bed, pulling your own shirt off and tossing it to the floor beside his.

Farleigh drops onto your mattress, making himself comfortable amongst the pillows. “What else do you want me to say?” He asks. “I’m sorry?”

“Yeah, maybe!” You kick off your underwear, and pull the drawstring of his sweatpants loose so that he can kick them off. His boxers go with him, and you take your place on top of him, straddling him so that your hips slide together.

“Oh fuck - I’m sorry.” He says, eyelids dropping to half-mast as he watches you grind on him. “I didn’t think you would have cared-”

“Why wouldn’t I care?” You say, bringing a hand up to his face to tilt his head up, eyes narrowing at the hickey under his jaw that you didn’t leave. Still grinding, you dip your head into his neck, biting and sucking a line of marks.

“Because - mm - we weren’t - ah - together.” He chokes out, hips canting up into yours as you bite harshly into the tender skin.

“Just because we weren’t together doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have cared if you were fucking other people.” You say, sitting back on your heels to look down at him. “Obviously I cared.”

“I know that now.” He says, watching you rise up onto your knees, lining him up. His eyes find yours. “Did you let him hit without a condom?”

You roll your eyes. “Of course fucking not.” You say, sinking down on him in one smooth thrust. Even though you’re on the pill, you wouldn’t just let some dude hit raw - especially someone you’d just met. The way you trust Farleigh doesn’t extend to other men generally. “And don’t act like you didn’t storm in here all jealous too. You obviously cared if I was fucking someone else, why wouldn’t I have-?”

“Yes, okay, I was being stupid.” He says, panting as you begin to bounce, planting your hands on his chest for leverage. “I’m sorry.”

“And?” You prompt, watching his eyes flutter as you ride him.

“And?” He whimpers, breathy and confused.

“For waking me up…” You say, slowing down slightly.

“And I’m sorry for waking you up, please just fuck me.” He whines, pushing his hips up to meet yours. With a grin, you resume your galloping pace, watching him pant and keen underneath you. It’s as good as it is every time - you know his body well enough to know that if you run your nails down his chest he’ll moan, and he knows you in the same way, so he grabs your hips to force you up and down his cock faster, and throws his head back against the pillows so you can lick a stripe up along the side, sucking the lobe of his ear into your mouth.

He moans, loud and unabashed, and if this wasn’t a regular occurrence you would be embarrassed because there's no way your neighbors didn’t hear that. But, used to it as you are, you just roll your eyes, and slap your palm over his mouth, muffling his whining. “You are so loud.”

Whatever he says is swallowed up by your hand, but the look on his face sums it up for you. You laugh, and bring your other hand up to rest at the base of his throat. You don’t squeeze, but the simple feeling of the weight there is enough to have his eyes rolling up into the back of his head.

Hands still covering his mouth and throat, your attention shifts to your own pleasure. You didn’t get to cum last night - it took Evan all of three thrusts before he was grunting and shuddering on top of you, and it made you miss Farleigh more than anything else. It makes the sweetness of knowing he was jealous too all the more potent as you're riding him like a prized stallion and he's looking like he’s about to ascend to the heavens with your hand over his mouth. It’s good. It’s always so good with him, even when you’re just hanging out - even when you’re just together in the same room. There’s not many people in the world you can say that honestly about, but Farleigh is one of them.

The coil in your gut tightening, you lean back down to nip at the side of his neck, and whisper, “I love you.”

His responding groan is loud enough that your hand barely does anything to quiet it, and before you know it, Farleigh’s prying you away from his mouth and throat, pinning you to his chest and rolling so that he’s on top, never pulling out. Tucking his head into the crook of your neck, he resumes fucking into you, hips knocking against each other as he pants into your ear.

“Mm, fuck, love you too.” He keens. “Love you so much I got - ah - scared. I’m so sorry about last night, please forgive me, please please-”

“Oh, fuck, yes I forgive you, I already did-” You gasp as he ruts against you. It’s delicious, the way your bodies slide together. There’s something about the way that his chest lays over yours that makes your heart swell, and the feeling of his curls tickling the side of your face is like a thousand butterfly kisses. With how keyed up you already are, it doesn’t take much. “Ah- Farleigh-!”

He lets out a long string of tiny moans as he follows you over the white hot edge, punctuating each thrust with a raspy grunt until he stills, slumping down against you. For a moment, the room is quiet. You wrap an arm around Farleigh’s shoulders, hugging him to you.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles into your neck.

“It’s cool.” You say. “We’re cool. I’m sorry too.”

“Cool.” He says. “Will you be my-?”

He doesn’t even get the full question out before you’re answering. “Yes. Duh.”

#farleigh start #farleigh start x reader #farleigh x reader #saltburn #saltburn x reader #asks #farleigh start smut

300 notes · View notes

gegewrites · 1 year

Text

James Wilson- make her mine(smut)

Requested by- @flowercrowns-goodvibes

(I hope I did your request (some what) justice)

Words- 5.9k

(In my nature, it’s skim edited and in 4 months when I get a surge of Motivation I’ll edit it)

5/28/23

Wilson's pov-

There's a new doctor in the hospital, (y/n) (l/n), neurology and general surgery. she's been here a few months. I see her quite a bit around the hospital, never going to the same place though. I'm coming, she's going. Though we've spoken, I've bought her lunch a few times before but couldn't stay afterwards or she was still working during her lunch. we've had chats on the elevator, or at the coffee machine a few times. But still no longer then five minutes. Yet, I can't seem to get out of my damn head. She's plagued me. I can't even ignore her, I see her I have to say something. Playing this...slow game is getting too annoying. I gotta make her mine.

"You're dummer then you look if you think she wants you." House said, not looking away from the sudoku on his computer. I was sat in the chair in front of his glass desk, it was lunch, we already ate.

"Why wouldn't she want me? I'm nothing like you." I remarked and he glanced at me before turning his chair to face me fully,"here we go."

"Is she broken?" He asked and I shrugged my shoulders,"how much have you talked to her?"

"We've talked in passing, a couple elevator rides. I've even bought be her lunch before." I pointed at him and he rolled his eyes and turned back to his computer.

"You've boughten me lunch before, does that mean you wanna fuck me too?" He gave me a fake concerned look at I scoffed at him.

"I think if I wanted to I would've already." I joked, a chuckle tinting my voice,"but seriously, why wouldn't she like me?"

"If she's broken- like I'm sure she is, then she's gonna get bored of you like all the others after you start mending her back to health." He closed the tab on his computer, finishing the sheet, and turning back to me.

"What if she's not broken?" I pressed,"what if she's perfect?"

"Everyone's broken. You have brother trauma and you blame yourself for it all, and let's not forget the depression. Which will spike when you start to feel her becoming detached from you." He crossed his arms and glanced over at the conference room before groaning. I looked over and saw that chase and foreman were in there.

"Ya know what-" He cut me off.

"I've seen her at the pharmacy getting a prescription filled two times a month since she's been here. She broken trust me."

"this is a perfect time to end this conversation." I stood up from the chair and looked at my watch,"she's working the clinic right now."

"So now it's time to go creep around?"

"More like get my hours for the day in, be there to offer assistance if needed." He looked at me plainly before holding his face in his palm shaking his head.

"You are desperate." He finally looked back up at me.

"And now I'm leaving."

Your pov-

I signed Into the clinic and grabbed a folder from the stack on the desk and took a look inside. Kid has a fever, a rash on his chest. Easy enough.

"Hey (l/n)." I heard behind me to I looked over my shoulder and saw Dr.Wilson signing in.

"Hey Wilson." I smiled, holding the folder in one hand against my side,"how's that patient by the way?" The last time we were in an elevator together he told me about a patient of his, It sounded interesting so I wanted to catch up.

"I think we caught it just in time." He grabbed a folder from the Stack,"what did you get?"

"Kid has a fever and a rash, room three. You?"

"Four day headache." He answered,"room five."

"Then I guess I'll see you in a bit." I started walking away and he smiled and nodded.

He was charming. His presence was charming. It was a bit sad that I didn't see him all the time, I specialized in general surgery and neurology. You'd think we'd see each other more, neurology and oncology work close together in most cases, but that hasn't happened yet.

I opened the door to exam room three, and closed it behind me. A brunette mother was standing next to the bed, her seven year old son playing with a Gameboy.

"Hello I'm Dr.(l/n)." I greeted them as I opened the folder again, holding it in my left arm.

"Mary." She introduced her self.

"so..Conner here has a rash and a fever?"

"A hundred point two this morning, and it's On his chest." She looked down to him, and gently took the gameboy away from him and out in her purse which was over her shoulder,"he's had the rash for two days, the fever came this morning."

"Any history I should know about? Recent trav-"

"No nothing like that. He just got this rash the other day, sore throat." I nodded walking past her. I put the folder down on the counter and grabbed a pair of gloves, starting with my right hand.

"I see you like Mario?" I looked at Conner and he nodded with a smile. I put on the left,"so how are you feeling?"

"My throat hurts." His voice was a little scratchy. I grabbed a popsicle stick from the drawer, taking off the paper wrap and putting it in the counter.

"I'm gonna check your throat alright? Open wide and stick your tongue out." I grabbed a mini flashlight from my pocket, placing the popsicle stick down on his tongue and shining the light,"have you looked at his throat?"

"It was red the other day." Mom said waling around to look. His tonsils had some white around and in them,"oh god."

"Mm." I hummed, taking the stick away and placing it on the paper wrap, putting the light back in my pocket,"can you lift your shirt for me so I can see this rash?"

He lifted it and I saw mini hives on his chest, a few bumps spreading onto his lower neck.

"Those hives showed up today."I gave her a nod, motioning for Conner to put his shirt down.

"We'll run some tests. It's most likely a strep. There a breakout at school?" I picked up the popsicle stick and paper, pressing my door down on the lever of the trash can and dropped it In. The lid closed with a metal thud.

"Not that I'm aware of." Gave her a nod and heard the door open. So I looked over, Wilson in the door.

"I need you to take a look at this patient." He said.

"Excuse me," I pulled the blue gloves off and threw them in the trash,"I'm gonna have a nurse come and do your strep test, and I'll be back when that's ready."

"And if it strep?" This is definitely her first child.

"Then I'll prescribe Conner some antibiotics and a lidocaine throat gargle for his throat." Wilson walked out of the door and stood outside of exam five. I flagged down a nurse and told her what to do as Wilson handed me the blue folder for the patient.

I skimmed it through, his name was Mark, and it seemed like he was a healthy man. Participated in 2ks and 5ks regularly, works at the college teaching anthropology courses.

"Migraine." I said, noting the reason for coming here.

I kept it in hand as I pushed the door open.

The room had the blinds shut, the patient was laying down, his legs hanging off the exam bed, and arm rested on his head covering his eyes.

"Mr.Swan?" I asked gently as Wilson closed the door. He slowly sat up, as if trying to not make his head pound, which didn't work when he winced as he fully sat up,"bad one?"

"Yeah." He lightly chuckled and I handed the folder back to wilson.

"You're gonna hate me for a bit." I grabbed my flashlight from my pocket and held it up,"but I need to check your pupils. Wilson will you open the blinds?"

"This is gonna suck." Mr.Swan closed his eyes as Wilson twisted the blinds open, the room quickly lighting up with natural light.

He soon let his eyes open, blinking a few times. His eyes were a bit red, common with migraines. I clicked the flashlight on, snd gave him a look asking if he was ready, he nodded.

I shined it in his right eyes. The pupil retreated and i moved the light away before doing it again. Same response. I shun it in his left eyes. He had brown eyes so his pupils blended into the corneas in normal light. But, when I shun the light in his eyes, his pupil was dilated, and didn't react.

"Your left pupil is dilated and non reactive." I told him, dropping the flashlight into my pocket. I looked over at Wilson who was already looking at me, leaning against the counter, I looked back to Mr.swan,"have you been training hard lately? Going through some stress?"

"No." He answered and I nodded, I looked over at Wilson, his arms crossed over his chest," get an MRI, a CT, and some extra strength Advil for while hes waiting. Bring me the scans when they're done, and focus on the left side."

"Of course."

Wilson's pov-

An hour later-

I walked down the Neuro hallway, walking to the conference room. I had the file with the patients scans in my hand. I know after she left the patients room she picked up another patient and checked in on the kid with the strep when his test came back, but I asked one of her colleges when I left the clinic and they said she was up here. And she was.

She was sitting at the conference table, looking down at a blue folder, her left hand wrapped around a mug. No one else was in there, just her. It'd be easy to close the blinds around the glass walled office, push her up against the table-okay that's enough.

I let out a breath and walked up to the door and pushed it open. She looked up at me and then down to my hand.

"There's those scans." She out her mug down and reached for them, I handed her the file as I pulled the seat diagonal from her and sat down.

"Mri had a bit of a waitlist." I said as she opened the file, I finally noticed how nice the baby blue color of her blouse looked one her, I didn't pay attention to it before. Probably because her coat is off.

"I heard some people complaining about it." She looked at the mri scans quickly before moving them to the side, and looking at the Ct scans,"it's definitely a migraine."

"But for four days?" I questioned as she stood up, grabbing the mri scans and the Ct.

She put them up on the light board against the wall. Standing with he hands on her hips, her weight shifted to her right side as she leaned on her leg. I just looked at her as she looked at the scans. Im actually working with her today. Fuck you, House.

"Did you look at these yet?" She looked back at me and I shook my head standing up, taking the clue to come look. She pointed to the CT scan,"a tumor."

"Didn't catch that in the MRI." I crossed my arms over my chest,"so it's pressing against the nerves, causing the headache."

"That thing needs to be out by...I say nine AM tomorrow, that's if it's not brain cancer." We looked at each other and back to the scan.

"I'll get him in to get it biopsied." I took note of the scent of her perfume. A sweet rose scent, and undertone of almond. Light enough to not bother you, yet strong enough to make you near addicted.

"Tonight?"

"Preferably within the next half hour, he's in room Forty two A if you wanna stop by." I said as I slowly back up to the door as she took the scans off the light board,"if I don't see you when he's done then ill come find you."

"Ill see you then Wilson." She smiled as She went back to her seat, putting the scans back in the file. I opened the door and took a left.

Your pov-

Twenty minutes later-

I pressed the down button for the elevator. The numbers quickly changed, coming up from floor two. The door opened and immediately I saw Dr.House leaning against the back wall.I knew he had a thing about sharing elevators.

"This is perfect, we need to talk." I nodded and walked into the elevator quickly because the door was staring to close.

"This about Mark Swan?" I asked unsurely. Maybe Wilson told him about it. I looked at the buttons and the button to the second floor was already pressed, weird considering he just came from there. I leaned against the right wall.

"No, this is about Wilson." He leaned off the wall and walked to the front of the elevator, repeatedly pressing the door close button when it reached the second floor. My brows furrowed at the action and the elevator resumed going down.

"Okay?" He leaned against the wall in front of me, his grip on his cane shifting.

"I haven't even talked to you since you've come here, yet everyday I hear about you." I gave him an even bigger look of confusion,"you have Wilson on a string and you don't even know it."

" we've barely even talked."

"The amount you two have is enough for him." The doors opened to the basement,"follow me."

"So Wilson's got a school girl crush on me?" I asked following behind him.

"Oh I wish." He shook his head and took a right going towards the labs,"prefer him blushing then obsessing."

"He's not obsessed." I denied and he stopped walking, turned around and looked at me like I was fucking dumb.

"He buys your lunch often, makes an effort to talk to you whenever he can but won't interrupt you, and all I hear is how much he wants you." He looked at me for a second, and I took a breath, not realizing I was even holding my breath,"so for my sake...fuck him already."

"What?"

"Are you broken?" He randomly snd promptly asked. I didn't know what he meant,"never mind, surgeons are usually broken in some way."

I went to speak but he turned and walked away, again, so it felt useless to say anything. I was kind of stunned. I enjoyed seeing Wilson when I did, I enjoyed talking to him, I appreciated that he buys my lunch like three times a week. I'd be lying to myself if I said I didn't feel something for him,

I spun on my heel and walked back towards the elevator, my mind running over what I just heard from House, starting to connect dots.

But broken? I couldn't understand that one.

Wilson's pov-

7pm-

I walked out onto the porch connect to my office, I came out cause I saw House leaning on the wall next to mine, looking into my office.

"How's your case going?" He asked as the door closed behind me.

"Fine." I answered him,"hell get it removed tomorrow, he's jacked on meds to keep his pain down."

"Lucky fella." He sat on the edge of his wall,"how's the other thing going?"

"Also fine." I sat down on the edge of my wall like he did, my right foot acting as some stability. I was facing the hospital, my back to the scenery.

"No details?" He leaned back a bit but then leaned back In, his forearm sitting on his left thigh.

"So now you want details?" He gave me a slight shrugged and I rolled my eyes with a sigh,"I think we work well together."

"That's it?"

"Yes? What do you want me to say?" I slid off the wall, standing in both feet and looking at him,"that She looks hot when looking at scans? That The shirt she's wearing fits in all the right spots and don't even get me started on how her ass looks in Her pants?"

"That's more like it," his grip on his cane tightened as he stood up,"I'll be back, don't move."

I watched him walk away as I put my hands on my hips. He walked into his office, and a minute later he came back out with a tan folder.

"She's definitely broken." He handed it over. It's was (y/n)s files.

Your pov-

I walked past diagnostics, seeing the light on in Houses Office. I didn't stop there, I turned down the short hall after it and stopped in front of Wilson's door. The blinds were closed so I Gave it a light knock before pulling it open and letting it close behind me.

"I thought you went home?" He put down what he was looking at to give me his immediate attention.

"No, not yet." I slid off my doctors coat and draped it over the back of the chair in front of his desk, the same one I took a seat in,"what are you doing?"

"Going over a patients medical history." He answered and closed the file,"seeing if they're on any medications or have taken anything. Just trying to find something."

"For Mr.swan?" I questioned and he shook his head, leaning back in his chair,"did you get a consult planned for him?"

"Tomorrow at 8am." I nodded, there was silence between us for a bit but I spoke again,"why'd it take you this long?"

"To do what?" The right corner of his lip curled in a slight smirk.

"To talk to me, get me on your case." I leaned towards the desk.

"I had to make sure it was the right time. You were working the clinic today, i had the same time free, it was perfect." He shrugged his shoulders."plus, I kinda got pushed to do it."

"House?" He raised his brow at me,"we talked in the elevator."

"Really?" He leaned forward, his forearms on the desk,"and what's he tell you?"

"Not much, just how much you talk about me." I stood up a bit to look at the record on his desk, and he didn't try to hide it,"he asked me if I was 'broken'."

"Well, you're not as broken as the others." The file on his desk was my file. My medical history,"just antidepressants that you've been taking since seventeen."

"And don't forget the bi-weekly therapy." I reminded him.

"Which you haven't been to since you moved here." He noted,"noted that you promptly ended a session and told her you weren't coming back."

"That's how I remember it." I shrugged, for some reason I didn't feel violated that he looked at my records without my permission, and I desperately wanted to know where this was going.

"What made you do That?" He asked getting up from his chair, taking off his doctors coat and placing it on his chair and I leaned back in mine.

"My psych wanted to try a new medication, threw me into a spiral. I'm switched back to lexipro now, as I'm sure you know." Broken, this is what House meant by broken.

He leaned against the edge of his desk and nodded. I kept my eyes up at him, and he kept his eyes down on me.

"You asked me why it took me this long to get you on my case...but you never asked me to get on your case." He crossed his arms over his chest, flattening out the white button up snd his red tie.

"Wasn't really sure what the head of oncology does with his hours. Never was really sure how busy you were." I held my hands in my lap and he chuckled, his normal light chuckle.

"I've always got time for you." He answered,"the doors always open."

"I'm glad I know that now." I smiled, my head turning to look at the door to his offices porch, and then I looked back at him again,"wish I'd known it sooner, instead of eating lunch alone in Neuro, I could've been in here."

"At least now you know." His eyes still haven't left me, I knew there was something else he wanted, I coukd just feel it.

"I've heard stuff about you." He pushed uff the desk and walked over the couch, I turned s bit in the chair to look at him better when he sat down,"got a list of ex wives."

"Only three, they got bored. I have a tendency to go for people on the..unbalanced side do the scale." His eyes finally shifted to the window and back to me.

"So I'm on the unbalanced side?"

"Don't take it offensively, most people are. That includes me as well, believe it or not it's clinic depression." He admitted snd i nodded, taking in the information.

"People who struggle tend to grab onto others who struggle. Makes them feel better watching the other thrive, but then the healer they doesn't thrive." I explained and he nodded to every word, relating to it.

"All three marriages."

"What we're they missing?" I stood up from the chair and walked over the couch, sitting on the right side of him, angled into the corner to look at him better.

"I don't even know. I did my part I know that. People just get bored, they move on while being committed."

"Because you healed them."

"So what I'm getting is that I can't heal you, so that means that you're a top choice?" He twisted s bit to look at me better, his right arm resting on top of the head of the couch.

"I guess?"

"Because that what I see. A top choice." His eyes trailed down and back up my body in the last part. I felt my pulse being harder, more prominent in my neck and chest. All that from his look,"you're smart, you walk and talk with confidence. By what I've heard you don't second guess yourself, not in s risky way."

"Because I know what I'm doing, the one thing I don't know what I'm doing...is how I'm affecting you." He looked away from me, his eyes at his desk,"because House said that I should fuck you for his own sake."

"Did he really?" He looked back st me quickly and I nodded,"cats out of that bag now."

"What do you think about me?" I moved closer to him.

"You want the truth?" His brow cocked a bit and I nodded,"I can't help but imagine what you would look like bent over a desk or a table any time I see you at one. Your clothing always fits in the right spots, makes it hard to ignore you in the hallway, I simply can't, and after you leave my presence you're in my mind till I see you again."

"Do I keep you up at night?"

"You have no clue." His left hand sat on my thigh now, that's how close I was to him,"crazy dreams about you."

"Like what?" I wanted to pick his brain apart. He didn't answer, but he was seeing the dreams in his head,"tell me."

"How badly I wanna fuck a kid into you." If I was gonna have anyone's children, it might as well be his, and that sentence went right to my pussy.

"I'm not carrying a child without a ring and a marriage license." I marked and he nodded and quickly responded.

"I get easily get you one tomorrow."

"Make it six months, minimum." I took the chance to lean forward, and catch his lips to mine which he quickly reacted to. He held my thigh tighter, the hand that was on the head of the couch came to hold my jaw. I grabbed his tie, pulling him closer.

His lips were soft and near addictive, and he moved them with mine, his grip holding my jaw a bit harder along the edge of it by my ear.

I leaned back, taking him down to the couch with me his hand sliding up my thigh to my hip, his right knee in between my legs. His right leg and my left leg both off the couch. In seconds it was heated, our tongues clashing against each other languidly, I loosened his tie and started undoing the buttons to his white shirt. Taking my time, feeling each button, my brain obsessed with his lips and tongue at the moment. He pulled away from me, his lips a bit more red then before and he slid his tie off over his head, dropping it to the coffee table. I finished off with his last button and he slid it off, letting it hit the floor. He looked good with his clothes on, and he looks even better when they start to come off.

Wilson's pov-

A little bit later-

"Jesus."I sighed out,, my head resting on the head of the couch, my hand in (y/n)s hair, one holding into the arm of the couch as she held my thighs. Her head bobbing up and down as she sucked my cock. Mouth of an absolute Angel, everything I thought it'd be. My top teeth bit down and dragged lightly over my bottom lip, letting it go as I exhaled.

I looked at down at her, meeting her gorgeous (e/c) eyes looking up at me through her lashes. She still had her panties on, light blue like the shirt, lace trim on the upper and bottom hems. She looked gorgeous on her knees, the way her back arched slightly, and when's she's sitting up, not sucking my dick, her waist has the perfect curve to it, her thighs plush, and her breasts looked absolutely fantastic.

I felt my right lip rug up into a smirk, the tip of my tongue brushed under my top teeth and she closed her eyes. I let my head fall back as she took me deeper in her throat the next time she bobbed down, he tongue running flat along the underside of my cock and I felt it tenfold. My fist held her hair tighter, just holding. I'd be crazy to try and take over what she was doing. Her tongue slid up my base, swirling around my tip, and sliding back down my base, her lips still sucked around me.

I took a deep breath as my abs tightened, I let out a groan and a "fuck" followed after it. I felt her hands slide down my thigh and leave once it reached my knee. She sucked harder, which i didn't know was possible, and she hummed around me.

"My god." My hips rose a bit , but not much, just a reaction from the deep breath I took. Her hand never returned to me so I opened my eyes and looked down at her. Her hand was inside her panties,rubbing her clit slowly, her hips rocking lightly.

I couldn't stop looking at her, feeling my cock Twitch against her tongue and the inside of her cheeks. My breathing became deeper and faster, my eyes closing on their own. I could feel the high in my head as my head fel back again. Her hand left my thigh and gripped the base of my cock, Pumping it as she focused on the upper half.

"Just like that." I groaned out, and with a few more pumps I was shooting into her mouth, she kept sucking and pumping, as groaned out her name, my hips bucking up slightly. My whole abdomen tightening as I came. She swallowed around me before popping off, her hand slowing down to a stop shortly after.

I left out a sharp sigh as my hand released her hair, I looked down at her again, her lips wet and puffy, her eyes glossed over, her cheeks blushed, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath.

"You are..fucking amazing." I chuckled out and she smiled, putting a hand on my thigh to help her stand up. I leaned forward to grab her hips to help stabilize her.

"And you have a good diet." She pointed out, I let my fingers hook into her panties, and I pulled them down her legs. She took over and then kicked them away to join the rest of our clothes on the floor. She stood up straight, looking down at me,"how do you want me Wilson?"

"Get on the couch." I could feel myself getting harder again as I stood up. She knelt down on the couch, her forearms on the head of it, sticking her out at me as she shifted to widen her legs.

I let my hands slide down her waist, along her hips, and she rested her left cheek on her forearm as she looked back at me. I took hold of my cock, stroking it from base to tip.

"Fuck me Wilson." Her voice was breathy and needy, sounding like a whisper but it wasn't. I took hold on her left thigh and pulled her closer to me, running my tip in between her wet folds savoring the feeling of it. Swiping it against her clit, gaining a whimper from her as she looked forward, as much as she could with the wall in front of her. I circled my tip around her soaked core, before sliding my tip in. I groaned and she let out a moan at the same time, she was tight. Just perfect though.

I slid in a bit more and she pushed back to me, so I pushed my full length into her. Her walls squeezing me as she pushed her chest into the couch. A shaky moan that came from her throat, but never left her mouth came from her. I held onto her waist as I slowly pulled back from her before pushing back in, feeling the resistance of her walls yet ease because of how wet she was. Her forehead sat on the back of her hands, soft moans leaving her lips each time my tip came back to hit that soft spot in her.

"Please go faster." She breathed out, so I did. Suck my dick like that and I'm gonna do anything you say. I started building up a rhythm, pulling out to my tip and rocking my hips back in to her deeply, my hip bones pressing against her ass,"ohmygod."

"You feel so fucking good." I groaned out, leaning down press a kiss on her shoulder,"so good."

Your pov-

Wilson was pounding up into me, a hand holding onto my throat, to keep my shoulder blades against his chest, I was holding onto that's hands wrist, keeping him there. I reached behind me, my nails digging into his shoulder, his other hands rubbing my clit. My moans were uncontrollable due to how deep be fucking into me, his tip rubbing against my gspot without missing a beat. My head head felt dizzy as it fell against his shoulder, my abdomen muscles were tightening and loosening, nearly spasming. My thigh muscles twitching from the constant harsh attention to clit, setting my nerves on fire. My walls fluttered around him, his groans filled my ear, along with the shirt praises he whispered to me. Small kisses under my ear and side of my neck.

"Gonna cum." I shuddered into him his hand leaving my neck to hold firmly onto my ribs, I didn't let go, my grip tightening around his bone. Electric spiked up my spine, my walls convulsing around him, and i felt his cock Twitch. Once. Then twice.

"Just a little bit longer." So I waited, my brain focusing on how his fingers moved without stopping or faltering. How he held me closer to his chest.

"Wilson-"

"Let go." He said, and I did. Crumbling in his grasp as my orgasm broke through me, kept kept fucking into me. My cum coating his cock and the inside of my thighs. A "fuck me" came out of his mouth before he released into me, he kept pounding up into me, but his hand left my clit and held onto my waist. My back was hot against his chest, my hairline dampened, my breathing fast, same as him.

He slowed down, and I let go of his shoulder and wrist. he leaned forward and I grabbed the top of the couch, both his hands sitting on my hips, holding my lower half up as my upper half relaxed onto the couch.

"Holy fucking shit." I breathed out, my voice higher in pitch.

"Amen." He breathed out. Slowly pulling out of me, feeling his cum drip down the inside of my legs as he let my hips go. My lower half sitting down. I felt the couch dip next to me as he fell into the couch, a hand on my back rubbing up and down my spine. I took deep breaths and moved my head to rest my cheek on my hands and look at him for the first time in..I don't know how long it's been, all I can count it by was how that was the second time I came.

He had a blissed smirk on his face looking at me with awe.

"What time do you get out tomorrow? I could take you out for dinner." He offered I smiled.

"I get off at five." I answered and he nodded sharply.

"I'll make reservations in the morning." I moved to sit down properly on the couch, leaning against him as his arm wrapped over my shoulders.

We talked for a bit as we came down, before being interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Busy!" Wilson called out looking over at the door.

"Sounds like it!" It was house,"these walls are very thin by the way!"

"Noted House!" He yelled back, he waited a second for a response but it didn't come.

"Should be interesting for you tomorrow." I giggled and he shook his head.

"Never gonna hear the end of it, but at least i proved him wrong. He didn't think you had any interest in me."

"He should stick to medical diagnosis's, not social ones." I sat forward, his hand falling from my right shoulder,"I have to go, got a consult for a tumor removal at eight AM."

"At least-" I cut him off begire he could offer to clean me up. How charming.

"Clean up your couch, ill be fine." I picked up my blue panties as I stood up, slipping them into my legs and pulling them up.

"I can walk you to your car." He sat forward, I picked up his pants and boxers and handed them to him, his shirt was somewhere else in the room.

"How charming." I put my button up on the arm of the couch as I stood up with my pants starting to put them on,"you can walk me to elevator."

"Sounds great."

#gegewrites #fanfiction #smut writer #house md #house md smut #james wilson #James Wilson Smut #dr.wilson fanfic #James wilson fanfic #smut #james wilson x reader

661 notes · View notes