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mariasont · 1 month

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Office Sleepover 2 - A.H

a/n: had sm fun writing this one yall

im so down bad for him ugh

masterlist

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part one here! part three here!

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader flashes hotch AGAIN, drinking on government property lmao, drunk reader, suggestive comments

wc: 3.2k

You were restless, to put it simply. Every conceivable activity within the BAU had been exhausted, and you had explored every nock and cranny of the office, leaving no corner untouched. At this point they should start paying you for tour guides because you'd be an expert.

You were bored, frankly, and lonely--the team had been on a case all week and you were stuck here. How Garcia managed was beyond you--the walls seemed to close in on you as stir craziness took hold. You kept busy with work, offering as much help as possible while staying put, but it really wasn't the same.

You missed the team, and a particular member's absence you felt just a tad more, though you wouldn't admit it. Thankfully, they were supposed to be back any second now. While Penelope had a special place in your heart, the thought of sitting through another round of her and Kevin's awkward flirting was almost too much to bear. Without Hotch to keep it in check, it was all the more excruciating.

"Bye, Kevin," you chimed in unison, your voices intertwining just as the door clicked shut behind him.

Once you were sure he wasn't coming back, you shot Pen a knowing glance, arching an eyebrow as you pointed one of her fuzzy pens at her.

"Ease up on the death stare, will ya?" Penelope chided, as she wheeled her chair back to her computers, her finger twirling towards you. "You get so broody when the boss man's gone."

You lobbed the pen in Penelope's direction. "No," you replied with a huff. "I get broody when the whole team leaves me behind."

"Gasp," Penelope declared, placing a hand over her heart. "Can you believe it? They're genuinely concerned for your well-being. The audacity!"

"Okay, but seriously, what's the bigger priority here--my life or my sanity? Because it's a fine line," you said with a shrug, pushing your chair back dramatically.

But, before the chair could gain any momentum, you found yourself abruptly against the wall, your head cushioned by an unexpected softness. Without a moment to comprehend, your chair was spun, your eyes growing impossibly wide as Hotch's belt appeared abruptly in your line of sight. You raised your eyes to meet his.

"Your life, I would wager," he said evenly, "but then again, I might be a little biased."

You sprang to your feet, too quickly, your foot catching, sending you lurching forward. Almost instantly, Hotch's hand was securing around your arm, preventing you from landing straight on your face.

"Oh, Hotch, sir, hi," you said, flustered and slightly disoriented. "I didn't realize you guys were back."

"We just got back," he said, his hand falling away from your arm, and you hated yourself for how you felt a subtle coolness that replaced the comforting heat of his touch. "Do you have those reports I asked for?"

"Oh, absolutely, they're ready at my desk," you assure. "I'll bring them to your office in a sec."

As he nods and exits, your scoop up your belongings from Penelope's desk, raising a finger. "Don't even say it, Pen."

You ignored the way she cackled as you left, moving to your desk to grab the needed papers. You attention was captured by Spencer and Emily standing by her desk. Without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around them both, pressing them against you.

"Ugh, I missed you guys so much."

They both laugh, their hands taking you in quickly as you lean against them.

Emily grins, ruffling your hair as she nudges you. "A week away and you're this clingy? We'll have the start weaning you off us, huh?"

"Don't tease," Spencer starts, his hand resting on your shoulder, "But out of curiosity, how many times did you check our desks while we were gone?"

"Too many times to count," you admit begrudgingly, a sheepish grin on your face. As you glance up, your eyes catch Hotch's through the glass pane. "Oops, almost forgot why I came down here."

Approaching Hotch's office, you tap on the door frame and enter. "Here ya go, sir." you offer, extending the documents toward him.

Your fingers lightly touch as he takes the papers, and for a moment, you're rooted to the spot, the brief contact sparking a surge of disarray in your senses. God, it's almost beyond belief that one man could have this kind of effect on you.

Hotch nods his acknowledgement. "Thanks," he murmurs. As you pivot to leave, he adds, "Could you sit down for a moment?"

You cast a teasing look over your shoulder. "I hope I'm not in trouble," you say. His expression doesn't change. "Wait, am I? Because that would definitely be enough to push me over the edge, sir."

"No, you're not in trouble," Hotch assures you. "I've received updates concerning your case."

You lowered yourself into the chair, hands perched in your lap, your eyes wide as you met his gaze. "Please tell me it's good news because I'm starting to forget what my own bed feels like."

"You've been here just over a week," Hotch states, matter-of-fact.

You blow out a breath, arms crossed over your chest. "Hotch, it's scary at night."

He clears his throat, "Anyway, it's good news. We've got a lead on the hitman, though it's not the all-clear you're wanting."

"Well, that's something at least," you concede with a nod. "But I don't get why I can't be involved in this investigation."

As Hotch opens his mouth, you jump in, deepening your voice to copy his. "Because you're too close to it."

He regards you steadily, clearly not amused.

"Yup, okay, I'm done, sorry, I'm leaving now," you relent, getting to your feet quickly and striding towards the door, but a hand beats you to it, closing it abruptly and effectively barricading you in.

With a quick turn, you ended up flush against the door, Hotch's hand resting against the wood just above your ear. You felt like you were short-circuiting, your eyes growing wide as they met his. He says your name, but it doesn't quite register--too engrossed in the heady scent of his cologne, the pressing warmth of his body, the nearness of his chest, so close that an inch's movement could mean a soft kiss to his neck. Not like that would be totally inappropriate or anything.

"What?"

"I said, I'm worried about you."

You wanted to kiss him, man, you really wanted to kiss him. You bit the inside of your cheek to refrain from doing so.

"Why?"

It was barely audible, more air than sound, not daring to disturb the space too much, afraid of him suddenly becoming aware of just how close he was.

"You're very quick to make light of things, to make jokes, but I'm asking you to be real with me here. What are you feeling?"

His hand left the door, settling on your shoulder, his thumb hovering just shy of the hollow of your neck. Unconsciously, you found yourself leaning into the gentle pressure.

"That sounded sarcastic, Hotch," you noted, your tongue briefly sweeping across your lips, which seemed to dry out as you talked. "You're not implying my jokes need work, are you?"

His lack of response and narrowing eyes made you cave.

"Okay, fine, Hotch. You want the truth? I'm scared, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? That I have nightmares every night? That I can't sleep?"

Your breaths came faster, teeth meshing tightly as you stared up at your boss. His hand found your cheek, his thumb sketching a path across your skin that ignited a trail of goosebumps over your whole body, making you hyper-aware of your every pore.

"What can I do to help?"

Stay with you, kiss you, fuck you--numerous thoughts ran raced through your thoughts, but none of them seemed wholly appropriate.

"N-Nothing, Hotch, really, I'm okay. It's not something that can be fixed, which is why I didn't say anything. Plus, everyone on this team has been through worse. I can handle it. I'm tougher than I look."

"I know you are, but I—," his words were cut short, a sudden knock at the door silencing him mid-sentence.

His hands fell away from you, but the sensation lingered, the heat of his touch seeming to brand you, marking where he had been. You ran a hand through your hair in an attempt regain some form of composure, just as he opened the door to reveal JJ.

Her eyes darted between the two of you, finally focusing on Hotch. "Sorry, guys, I have that footage from the press conference--is that what you needed?"

"Yes, right." Hotch nodded, pulling the door open further for her, then returning his attention to you, observing your flushed cheeks and uneven breath. "We'll continue this later, okay?"

"Yeah," you exhaled sharply before ducking out of the room.

You need to get a grip, or maybe a Xanax, probably both.

Once the office had emptied, leaving you alone, you sat pitifully on your bed. It was Friday, but there was not much cause for celebration when you were stuck here, surrounded by stale office air. You sprawled out on the mattress, tracing the patterns of the popcorn ceiling overhead. If someone didn't figure out this hitman situation, you were going to take him out yourself.

Not really, that would definitely be a death wish. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of muffled shuffling outside your door. Sitting up, you slid into your slippers and stepped out into the hallway.

"There she is!"

You snickered as Penelope extended her arms with jazz hands, while JJ and Emily lifted their arms to show off their wine stash. Gratefully grabbing a glass from Emily, you pulled them all into a group hug. "I can't help but feel like we're about to be the subject of a very specific memo from HR after this."

Giggles from JJ accompanied the wine pouring as you stepped back. "Hotch is surprisingly on board we this—encouraged it even. Can you believe it?"

Warmth dusted over your cheeks at the thought. You wanted to kiss him even more, if that was even possible.

"Trust me," Penelope insisted, shaking her head as she paused for a drink. "I wouldn't dare cross HR again. Once was more than enough."

You wanted to say you were a classy gal, confident in your ability to drink responsibly--it was only wine, after all, not Everclear. But as the night went on, your voice rose a decibel too high, your balance a bit unreliable, and your displays of affection way too unrestrained.

You were already a touchy person, ask any of your team members, but with a few drinks, you're giving high school sweethearts a run for their money in the PDA department.

Your arms were flung around JJ's neck, peppering her cheek with kisses as you sang along to whatever music Pen was playing in between smooches. JJ was laughing, tilting backward on her heels, nearly knocking you both over.

"I love you guys. So so much." you said, each word stretched and muddled as you reached out to Penelope, who happily linked her fingers with yours.

"You are so drunk!" Emily accused, her palms squishing your face as she chuckled.

"'M not," you protested, words stifled by compressed cheeks.

She freed your face to grab more wine, Penelope not far behind, as you situated yourself on your desk chair.

"You know who I also love?" you questioned to no one in particular as you slid your phone out of your back pocket. "Morgan, Reid, Dave, and--,"

You paused, your nose crinkling as you bit down hard on your tongue.

"And?" Penelope pressed, brows raised as she looked at you expectedly.

"Hmm?" You hummed innocently, blowing a kiss her way as you shrugged off her question. "I'm gonna call Morgan."

Your eyes darted down to your phone, only to find the room swirling like a carousel. It took a heartbeat to register--someone's voice was already coming from the speaker.

"Hello? Morgan? How'd you know I was going to call you?"

"It's Hotch."

Your eyes grew comically large, a hand flying over your mouth, smothering the laughter that threatened to fall. "Hotch! It is so late! Why are you calling me?"

You shushed the group with a finger to your lips, the girls' curious eyes on you as JJ practically crawled towards you to eavesdrop.

"You called me." He paused. "Are you okay?"

"Hotch," his name was more of a whine than anything as you tossed your head back. "I'm fine, like, the definition of A-Okay. I'm with my friends and we're all kinds of okay."

You shot Emily a thumbs up.

"Good. Okay." Another pause. "Maybe drink some water, yeah? No more wine."

You gasped. "Agent Hotchner, I am a federal agent of the government. I know when I should be cut off."

"Oh, my god, get her off the phone."

You don't know who said it, but it sent you spiraling into another round of giggles, the phone slipping through your fingers while JJ pounced on it.

"Hey!"

She held up a hand, keeping the device just out of reach.

"Yeah, she's pretty drunk." JJ said, then frowned. "Hotch, listen she's more of a lightweight than we realized." You slumped against the chair. "Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir."

JJ ended the call and placed it back into your hands. "I cannot wait until you remember this in the morning," she sang, before casting a glance to the others. "Also, a heads-up--Will's almost here."

"No!" It came out louder than intended, almost a shout, as you stood, sending Spencer's pens tumbling. "Whoopsie." You latched onto Penelope, murmuring, "Stay here, don't leave me."

Penelope's laughter rang out, her hands cradling your head. "Worry not, I've set the security guy straight--if you get even a scratch, I'll make him regret the day he was born."

"See, this is why you're my favorite," you whispered.

"Heard that."

Will eventually texted JJ, letting her know he had arrived. As the they waited by the elevator, the doors slid open to reveal Hotch standing there. A squeal escaped you, matched by his single raised eyebrow surveying your condition.

Your cheeks were painted a rosy tint, hair in a delightful tangle, and your shirt hanging askew off your shoulder--you were an adorable spectacle of disorder, and he found himself suppressing the small smile that threatened to reveal his amusement as the other girls filed into the elevator.

He had made them promise not to leave until he got there, not keen on the idea of you being left alone like this. It might have been an exaggeration, but when you butt dialed him and he heard the sound of your slurred speech it had him envisioning all sorts of worst-case scenarios. Sure, he had seen you drink during team nights out, but nothing like this.

"Hotch!" You shouted, moving to him with a rapidity that might be, well definitely, was ill-advised.

He stood motionless as you looped your arms around his neck. You smelled so nice--a sweet hint of vanilla instead of the anticipated alcohol. After a brief hesitation, his hands slowly found their way to your waist.

"What are you doing here, silly?" You ask, pulling back just enough to see his face. "Wait a second, please don't say we have a case."

A subtle smile played on his face, his hand not budging from your back. "No, there's no case."

"Oh, good," you murmured, your head bobbing lightly in approval. The light touch of your fingers at the base of his neck spread a warmth through him. "You want a drink? I think there's still some wine left."

"No, I'm fine," he said, clearing his throat and taking a step back. "I think you need to get to bed."

Your hands lingered at his neck, softly exploring his hair as you looked up with a smile that made his pulse race unexpectedly.

"Is that an order as my boss or a suggestion as my friend?"

He raised his brow. "Both?"

"Well, okay," you shrugged as you took a step back. "Wanna see my room? I don't think you've seen it yet. Everyone else has."

Without giving him a chance to object, you dashed down the hallway. He trailed behind with reluctance, knowing just how dangerous this could be for him. He was all too aware that he shouldn't be here, let alone in your room in your current, wine-fueled state.

You fumbled for the light, fingers slipping before finding the switch as you stumbled into the cramped room. It was pink. Very pink. The pullout couch was lost beneath a mountain of pillows, excessive by any standard. Your closet was bursting, and a collection of gadgets and gizmos had overtaken the room, but he liked it, a lot.

Your collapse onto the bed sent pillows scattering to the floor, his mind wandered about the unseen details of your bedroom at home, and even more so, the thought of what a shared space between you two might look like.

A sigh escaped him as he stood over you. "How about changing into your pajamas first, hm?"

"No thank you."

"You're going to hate yourself if you wake up in jeans tomorrow."

"Fine." You pouted, propping yourself up on your elbows. "Top right drawer please."

He shot you a look but obliged anyway. There was something about that puckered out bottom lip that made him think he'd do just about anything you asked, like he was putty in your hands. Pulling out the most conservative pair of pajamas from the sparse selection, he made a mental note to ask about that later.

"Thank you," you said with a smile. He really liked your smile. "You know, you're really such a nice person, Hotch. Or—Can I call you Aaron? Just tonight?"

He felt a sudden emptiness in his chest as the air was knocked out. "You can call me Aaron. Just tonight."

A high-pitched squeal escaped you as you began shedding your clothes. He offered a stifled cough, quickly averting his gaze and nudging the door closed with his free hand.

"Well, Aaron," you said plainly, "I really like you."

The effort it took for him not to pivot on his heel was immense, particularly when your voice sweetened like honey at the mention of his name.

"You're a great boss."

"I like you too, Agent."

"No, you don't, well, I mean—you can turn around now," you said. "You like me, but I really like you. It's not the same."

As he turned to face you, he could sense his cock twitching in his pants, a physical reaction to the sight of you fumbling with your shirt, your tits exposed in full view, as if begging to be touched.

"Christ," he hissed, gripping the ends of your shirt and yanking down. He was sure you were going to hate yourself in the morning. "You're not making sense, and I think you need to sleep it off."

"Yeah," you replied, your eyes warmly meeting his as you gave him a lopsided smile. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you in such casual clothes, Aaron. You look very handsome."

He needed to get you to bed before he did something he'd regret. He softly nudged your shoulders backward, offering no verbal response. You surrendered to the motion with complaint, your remaining strength insufficient for anything else.

Softly, he settled to blankets around you, taking a moment to study you, with the intention of memorizing you completely (even the part of you that was far too drunk).

"Goodnight, Aaron."

He summoned all his restraint to keep from crashing his lips into yours. He smoothed back your hair, allowing himself that as he shot you a tired smile. "Goodnight."

He hadn't even touched the doorknob when your plea reached his ears. "Aaron, I—, will you stay with me?"

And who was he to deny you anything?

next part!

taglist: @chronicallybubbly

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fanfic #hotchner #ssa hotchner #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #Spotify

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jinjeriffic · 4 months

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DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 4

Part 3

Aaaah, Tim had missed undercover work! There was just something thrilling about becoming a whole new person by making a few small tweaks here and there. He had combed his hair in a side-part, carefully applied make-up to make his skin look paler and his eyes bigger and put on a pair of thick rimmed glasses. Worn sneakers, baggy jeans, a loose plaid flannel shirt with a hoodie tied around his waist hid his lean, muscular frame. A slight slouch and his old high-school backpack completed the look. Goodbye Tim Drake-Wayne, Gotham socialite. Hello Adam Taylor, college freshman.

Jason took one look at him and practically fell over laughing.

“Oh my God, you look like a total dork! Would you like some braces to go with that?” he heckled, catching himself against the side of the car.

“I’ll have you know that this is the height of broke college student chic,” Tim sniffed in mock offence, “It’s called ‘blending in’ Jason. Maybe you should try it!” He walked past his snickering brother to get in the passenger’s seat of the beat-up Ford they used for travelling incognito.

“No thanks, I’ll leave the theatre performance to you,” Jason drawled, tossing the keys in one hand before getting behind the wheel. “I’ll just hang back and keep an eye out in case things go tits up.”

“I don’t even know why you insisted on coming along. I’m just going to question a civilian!”

Jason gave him a Look before starting the engine. “A civilian raised by mad scientists. The way our lives work, we’ll find her building Kryptonite powered robots in the janitor’s closet or something.”

“And the fact that she’s a cute red-head has nothing to do with it?” Tim teased.

“Nope!”

“Liar.”

The drive to Metropolis passed in a mix of mutual ribbing, arguing over radio stations and discussion of recent cases. They carefully avoided the elephant in the room - the reason for their current investigation. The sullen anger of their youngest brother, the quiet grief in Bruce’s eyes whenever he thought no one was watching and the mounting tension within the family. Tim doubted that this excursion would be all that fruitful, but he needed to get out and do something for the sake of his own sanity. The last thing he wanted was to watch Bruce emotionally implode over what may or may not be another dead son.

Getting onto the university campus was no problem. Tim had a fake student ID on him just in case, but it looked like he needn’t have bothered. His hacking had revealed that Jasmine Fenton checked into the university library after her last class almost every day, so it was just a matter of biding his time. He sat at one of the carrel desks, idly flipping through the latest issue of Forbes. I wonder if Luthor’s new tech acquisition means he’s up to something? Hm…

“Heads up, target at your 10,” came Jason’s murmur through Tim’s earpiece. Tim turned another page then sat up and stretched, glancing around casually. He instantly recognized the red-head from his earlier research. Tall and light build, long hair held back by a head-band, wearing skinny jeans and a dark grey sweater. She made her way over to the row of desks, carrying a small stack of books and a pencil case. She walked past Tim, only sparing him a glance and eventually settled down at the table farthest from the entrance and away from the other students. Perfect.

Tim got up and returned his magazine to the periodicals section before meandering over to Jasmine’s desk. He put on his best impression of a nervous smile. Showtime.

“Hey, is this seat taken?”

She only glanced up from her work briefly then went right back to taking notes. “No, knock yourself out,” she said in a bored tone.

Tim pulled out the chair next to hers and turned it slightly to face her. He sat down and cleared his throat.

“Hi, sorry to bother you. I’m Adam. Adam Taylor,” he lied, offering his hand to her. She gave him a tight, polite smile and shook hands with him.

“Jazz Fenton,” Her tone was light, but her body language screamed ‘please go away’. Tim filed the nickname away for later, “Look, it’s really nice to meet you but I have this project I need to work on, so…”

Ah, she probably thinks I’m trying to hit on her, Tim thought.

“Oh, I understand completely! I don’t wanna take up too much of your time, I just… I was just wondering if you could tell me about… you know,” he whispered with affected hesitation, “...ghosts.”

The smile dropped from her face and her gaze sharpened. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry! It’s just… your parents run Fenton Works, right? The ecto-biologists?” Tim rushed out, “I just wanted to hear your opinion on their work…” he trailed off at the look of tightly controlled anger on her face. She turned and scanned the room around them.

“Alright. Where’s the camera?”

Tim was caught completely wrong footed. Was she onto them?

“Camera? What camera?” he hedged. She slammed her notebook shut and glared at him.

“I get it. Lets pretend to interview the girl with the crazy ghost hunter parents and have a good laugh at her on social media later. Very funny, har har,” Jazz stuffed her pen back in its case with sharp movements, “Well I have better things to do than make you TikTok famous, so if you’ll excuse me,” she gathered up her books and stood.

Tim winced. He really needed to salvage this situation and quickly. He held up his hands in a placating gesture.

“I’m not filming you, honest! I just read some of your parents’ papers and wanted a second opinion on their research! They, ah… they seem pretty biased,” he said apologetically.

Jazz narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. “Why are you researching ghosts, then?”

The best lies are built on truth.

“Because…” Tim took a deep breath, “I think my brother might be one,” he forced out, then swallowed hard and looked away.

“Oh,” the anger had drained from her voice, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Tim glanced at her as she sat back down. “Thanks,” he croaked and blinked away fake tears. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Adam, what makes you think your brother might have come back as a ghost?” Jazz asked gently.

Tim collected himself for a moment, thinking about how to score the most sympathy points.

“It’s hard to explain. My younger brother… he saw something strange and now my whole family is freaking out. Dad is putting on a brave face but I can tell this is eating him up inside but he refuses to talk about it. I just… I need to know if there’s a scientific explanation to all this. I need to make sense of this whole mess!” he looked up at her through his lashes with his best puppy-dog expression, “Please, can you help me?”

Tim could practically hear her heart melting.

“And the Oscar goes to… Timbird!” Jason teased over the comms.

“Alright. But not here,” Jazz said, standing up again, “This is gonna take some time. And diagrams.”

Oh goodie.

Part 5

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #batman #batfamily #jazz fenton #tim drake #red robin #jason todd #red hood #prophecy universe #the one where clockwork uses prophecies to mess things up (and set things right)#tim drake loves acting #help how did this get so long

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dolldefiler · 3 months

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[I’ve gotten a few asks for more cuckquean-related stuff. Naturally, I sourced this from my conversations with the wonderful @rottenmami-bae (who I’m convinced is a better writer than me by far)]

C/W: Cuckquean, cheating, intense humiliation, gaslighting

Have I ever told you that I cum hardest to your hatred? That I love twisting your heart and tearing it into shreds? That I love lying to you everyday, telling you that I was at work late. You’re not dumb. No, you’re actually quite smart. You’d smell the perfume on me instantly. You’d notice the payments to various hotels and motels from our joint bank account.

“A co-worker’s coming over for dinner,” I would say softly, watching your body freeze. You would know already. You wouldn’t even need to ask to know it’s a woman. A woman with a hotter, sluttier body than you could ever dream of having. You’re smart but I’ve ripped the spine out of you, lie by lie, until you can only convince yourself I’m loyal. That I’m not spending everyday and night away from you drowning my cock in the warm holes of some whore. Some girl that I shower with more affection than I’ll ever show you. I’d smile. “No, don’t wear a dress. You’d look ugly in one.”

Dinner would pass by with flirtatious giggles and smirks being thrown around blatantly across the table. You’d sit there, ignored, with your head looking down at your food. Possibly to hide your teary eyes. She and I would be all the better for it. You’d ruin the mood. We’d snap our fingers at you, having you bring us water and spices, and whatever else we wanted to torment you with.

And finally we’d retire to my office. I’d sweetly tell you to put on some music and read a book or something. And you’d do it. Not to obey me, but to mask the loud, passionate moaning that comes from behind the door. You’d hear us, even through the doors. You’d hear me groan louder with her than I’d ever with you. And still, you’d do nothing, pathetic fucking cuck that you are. And the worst part? The pack of condoms I’d leave out would be unopened. Unused. Just like you.

You’d feel depression and wrath tangle with each other, breaking you, grinding down your sanity, until you’ve accepted it. That you really are a spineless fucking loser. It’d be okay to cry at that point. I’d hope that you do. Loudly. Hearing your misery would turn us both on. I’d fuck her against the door, roughly spreading her holes on my cock while she moans as loud as she can, knowing you’ll hear it. Knowing it’ll only make it hurt worse for you.

#cuckquean #cheating kink #cheating bf #cheating boyfriend #humiliation kink #degrading k1nk #degradation k1nk #gaslighting kink

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incendiobrock · 3 months

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Boneyard Bash {JJ Maybank}

Summary: A twist to the boneyard scene where instead of JJ offering Sarah a drink, Rafe offers y/n one. This doesn’t sit well with bf JJ and a fight ensues but the gun is pulled on the wrong person.. ;)

Warnings: gun violence, language, physical fighting, drinking, smoking, slight mention of blood

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The past twenty-four hours consisted of a lot of concocting and illegal activities that you would rather not list out. You see, when John B, JJ, Pope, Kiara, and you run into a sunken ship, and the police won’t listen to you when you try to report it, matters are taken into your own hands. What started as a plan to figure out who’s Grady White sunk during hurricane Agatha- has turned into a money ring.

“Can we please take a break from the illegal, money scheming antics? We’ve been at it all day, and I’m still dead serious about getting caught, I can not lose my scholarship!” Pope spoke, eyeing each and everyone of you as you sat around on the porch of the chateau. Kiara quickly agreed, John B and JJ almost getting caught at the motel was enough for her.

“Either way is fine with me.” You stated, taking a hit from the joint that JJ had just rolled, blowing out the smoke and instantly feeling a sense of relief wash over you. You passed the joint back to your blonde boyfriend, allowing him to get a few hits of it as well.

“We could hit up the boneyard?” John B suggested, a quizzical expression playing on his face. He knew that his friends never passed on the idea of throwing a kegger.

“Now we’re talkin!” JJ cheered, his arm finding its way over your shoulders as you snatched the joint back from him. After your last hit you put out the bud, twisting the burning end into the wood of the porch, ultimately saving the rest for later. You all got up from your spots, heading over to the twinkie so you could pick up a couple kegs before heading to the abandoned part of the beach.

---

The drinks were starting to hit you after downing two, and sipping on a third. Your body swayed to the music playing as a fire slowly burned in the background. You and Kiara had been dancing for awhile, talking about all the things that you never spoke of with the three boys. You were thankful that Kie was there, she was the one that made sure you kept hold of a little bit of your sanity. Out of ear shot, JJ sat next to Pope on a piece of old driftwood that had been washed to shore. His eyes watched you as you let out a laugh in response to something Kiara must’ve said, pure bliss radiating off of you.

“Dude, you’re starring hardcore at y/n.” Pope chuckled, nudging his shoulder. JJ grinned, shaking his head a little as he looked down at his lap. He had a red solo cup in hand, also feeling the affects of all the beer he had consumed so far this night.

“I can’t help it Pope, I’m in love with her.” JJ responded, looking back up at you as the fire cast its light across your face, making you glow like a true goddess.

You glanced over your shoulder, blushing as you made eye contact with your boyfriend from across the way.

“Well, well, well... If it isn’t the wanna be Pogue and the Pogue princess dancing around the fire on this fine evening.” A voice spoke from behind you. You felt your smile instantly leave, recognizing who the voice belonged to without having to even turn around.

“What do you want Rafe?” Kie asked, crossing her arms over her chest, sending death glares at the number one asshole in all of the OBX. Rafe scoffed, running a hand through his preppy, annoying, rich hair.

“I actually didn’t come over here for you, as if that’s any sort of shock-” He spat, a red solo cup sloshing around beer as he used his hands for emphasis. “-I really only came over here to offer y/n a drink.” He finished his sentence, extending the cup out to you.

“No thanks, I think I’m good.” You said rolling your eyes and turning your back towards the Kook. Despite you constantly trying to shut Rafe down, he would continue to talk to you any chance he got. All the Pogue’s had picked up that he had some sort of weird fascination with you, and it drove JJ mad. He hated that Rafe was constantly up your ass, despite the numerous times you told him you weren’t interested. JJ knew you could handle yourself, but it also just made him upset because you are his girl, and no one could get in the way of that.

“Oh come on... Where’s that little Pogue boyfriend of yours? Did he get himself thrown in jail yet?” Rafe pushed, causing you to turn back around.

“He’s right here you dipshit!” JJ yelled, quickly walking up to Rafe and punching him square in the face. You and Kiara both gasped, watching as Rafe almost instantly fought back. He took ahold of JJ’s shirt, knuckles going white from the tight grasp, and throwing his towards the sand. JJ fumbled slightly, his back hitting the ground relatively hard, but he managed to get back up and tackle Rafe to the ground as well.

“Rafe! Leave him alone!” You cried, watching as Rafe threw multiple punches at JJ’s face. He was lucky that he had been able to dodge a few of them. Before you knew it, John B, and Topper had joined in too. Each boy standing up for their respective friend but ultimately just creating a bigger fight.

Topper and JJ were now the ones who were throwing punches left and right, John B struggling to pull them apart from each other. You had almost had enough of all the fighting, storming towards the four boys, a little unsure of what your game plan was. “Hey! Stop it!” You yelled out again, watching as JJ had once again hit Topper, his nose now gushing blood. Rafe broke away from the boys, coming straight to you and pulling you against him to where your back was flat against his chest. His left arm wrapped around your shoulders, your neck being trapped between the bend in his arm, keeping you snug against him. His right hand raised up, a cool touch of metal being placed against your temple.

Your body instantly froze, although you had never found yourself in this situation before, you weren’t stupid. Rafe had a gun. It had all happened so fast, you hadn’t even had the chance to try and fight back, and now you sure as hell weren’t going to. Who knows whether Rafe would actually use the thing or not...

“Maybank! You better get your dirty Pogue hands off my friend! Or else!” Rafe said, the gun shaking against your temple as his voice rang out. JJ’s eyes immediately shooting over and seeing the tears forming in your eyes as Rafe’s gun was pressed flush against your head. Your hands were clutching onto the arm that Rafe was using to hold you in place, using him as support as your legs trembled beneath you.

“Let her go man! This doesn’t involve her!” John B said, coming closer to the two of you. Panic written across everyone’s face, even Topper seemed scared.

“Don’t come any closer! Tell them princess, if they come any closer I’ll shoot this gun right through your skull.” Your body shook, struggling to catch your breath as tears streamed down your face. Your eyes never lost sight of JJ’s as he stood and watched, trying to calculate his next move. Any alcohol in any of your systems was now long gone, feeling more sober by the second due to the severity of the situation at hand.

“Please- just let me go...” You chocked, begging Rafe to stop. You had seen him angry before, especially towards you guys, but never to this degree. You could tell he was enjoying it too as he chuckled to himself.

“Next time, maybe you should just be nice and accept my drink. That way we don’t have to end up in a little fight, alright princess?” He whispered in your ear, his lips brushing against your hair. You gulped, nodding your head up and down, hoping that this would be the end of his threats. “Good.” He whispered again, releasing your body from his grip and removing the gun all in one motion. You landed on your hands and knees, gasping for more air.

JJ rushed to your aid, dropping down in front of you and cupping your face in his hands, causing you to look at him. “Oh my god, are you alright? Did he hurt you baby?” He asked, his voice breaking slightly, tears now filling his icy blue eyes. You shook your head ‘no’, unable to form a sentence. JJ helped lift you into a sitting position, cradling you in his arms. He rocked you slightly, running a hand through your hair, trying to help you even out your breath.

“I thought I was going to lose you.” He whispered, the tears finally breaking their seal and gliding down his face.

“I thought you were too.” You replied, letting out a strained chuckle. He smiled, relieved to hear your voice again. He took ahold of both of your hands, allowing you both to stand back up.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” Kiara said, coming to your opposite side, nodding towards John B and Pope. You both agreed, following her and the others back towards the twinkie. JJ held a firm grip around your waist, not ready to let you go again after what Rafe had almost done to you. You leaned into him, thankful that you hadn’t died.

Once all five of you were back in the twinkie, and you were laying against JJ’s chest, he spoke once more, “If he ever puts a hand on you again he’s dead.”

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank x reader #Outer Banks #obx

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visionsofmagic · 7 months

Text

day 27: bi han [humiliation]

࿓ synopsis • your grandmaster gives you a lesson for the disrespect you have showed in front of others.

―❦ nsfw, ownership, pet names, rougness, possessiveness, fingering, cum eating, weight, power play (kinda), rudeness, sub!reader (much of it), f!reader, no use of y/n, ordering, oversitumulation, sensivity, fluff (at the end), ‘is all I guess?• 1.3k • while writing this I thought about how it would be if he’s the one who is dominated by the reader, so, we can see it in the future! *this bitch needs to be put down, soo* anyway, enjoy this one too because he’s so bi han! [kinktober m.]

“fuuuck! master!”

“that’s it slut, moan it louder, tell me who owns you as if your pussy isn’t telling it enough.”

he growls into your ear as he keeps pounding into you so mercilessly that you swear you will not be able to walk straight the following day for quite some time.

it doesn’t matter though, not when your grandmaster takes care of you with full of his attention even though it means educating you for something you didn’t mean to do in front of others – it just slipped out of your mouth without any control of your brain, instantly regretting it, but it was too late – even now, it’s not enough how he devours you, standing above you, chest touching your exposed breasts – the nipples harden whenever they meet with his cold chest, cock is buried deep inside you – leaving no room – all full.

“m-master!” you say, trying to hold still, be the good girl he wants to have after such disrespectful behavior of calling him by his name, bi han, the title was long forgotten at that moment. he didn’t say anything, face stayed behind the mask, yet, the way his gazes shifted from other assassins to you fast was proof of how fucked up you were – and his thrusts only proved your assumptions to be true. “please – I need – I – aggh!”

“you need?” he chuckles - mocks, hands holding your wrists, pushing them onto the bed beneath you that seems to be made of iron because it can’t be explained how it stands still after such strength coming from bi han – his weight only gives you another wave of pain mixed with the bliss of pleasure.

“what made you think that you can demand anything from me whore? oh right,” he answers his own question by kneeling lower, nose touching your cheek, tears dripping onto the sheets – no fear is bloomed inside your chest, no, yet it is a bit thrilling seeing him like this – even eyes turning ice blue because of how mad he is. “your fucking brain is useless now, isn’t it? too occupied with my cock that you have become my cockslut.”

another thrust, another swear – coming from him even though he tries to hide how good you’re making him feel with your pussy clenching around his length, soaking into it, legs wrapped around his back too, and another moan, coming from you – such sin that it makes you want to hide your pathetic self from his view – but you know he will never let that to happen; you being such a mess only because of him feed the power he has on you.

you are being weak like this is the most beautiful sight to him.

maybe it is the reason why he wants to gather more of the expressions you’re making by holding you from the waist, then, turning you over so that he can fuck you from behind as he compresses your body between his and the bed, the weight gets heavier, it becomes too much to handle – too hard to keep your sanity.

“yeah, cute whore,” he says, shoving his cock deep and hard – yet so slow as his chest covers your back, radiating coldness from his skin to your warm one. difference makes your mind go crazy – eyes looking at his smirking face from the corner, losing it all when his other free hand touches your abdomen, right at where his cock’s outline is appearing. “feel it? feel how my cock is filling you up fully? that’s what you’re made for – to have my cock whenever I want, being a fucking slut for it – for me – your grandmaster.”

he sounds as if he waits for a response from you, however, you know he doesn’t need one – not when you cum undone a few seconds later after his words of putting you so down – so low contrary to him – showing his power, and the weakness you have when it comes to him.

“yes, yes, yes! Master – ohhh – mmhh – yes, I, I – fuuck! aggh!” you say incoherently, your mind is dizzy, tongue rolls on its own, and eyes go white as the highness of climax hits you like he hits all right place – he wants to punish you yet why he keeps pounding all the right stops, giving you a pleasure you have never felt before. the answer is somewhere on your mind, the deepest place of it, waiting for it to be discovered – getting into the surface, but, it turns into darkness when he fucks you through your high, climax – your sensitive cunt squirts.

“say it,” he orders, you can sense it from his voice, “say who’s your owner, slut.”

“you!” you say without hesitation – no shame, a little maybe, full of pride. it would have felt so wrong – it should’ve – but with him, it sounds the right thing to be. “my grandmaster!”

“say my name,” he orders again, a bit calmer down, weight is there still – thrusting roughly into your abused pussy, using the wetness of it to go in and out easier. “moan it.”

and you do it right away, feels like if you don’t moan his name, the life will be meaningless. “bi han! ohhh – bi han!”

crying between your moans, you feel his cum washing your walls after hearing you cry under him, moaning his name, raising your ass up while doing it to make it as effective as possible for him – such a naughty girl for him he likes to break.

your cries stop when bi han’s weight disappears in a sudden movement,

confused, you try to look at him after getting yourself together – only to see him standing on his knees, left hand holding you from the waist to make your ass stay up as the free one getting closer to your core.

“m-master?” you as in a low voice, like a whisper even, understanding what he is about to do and feeling something you can’t put a name on.

his eyes look at yours for a moment, radiating both coldness and warmness, making them flow into your body and finally finding your soul from there.

to see it better, you wink rapidly, getting rid of the last drip of your tears, and waiting for him to do what he wants.

he slowly goes out of your pussy – with each inch, his fingers find it immediately after, and when his cock finally leaves your cunt – you already begin to miss it, his fingers fill up the emptiness by pushing his semen into you in delight, smirking down at the mess he’s making out of your cunt and you only stay on your elbows, ass up, pussy is being wide open so that you can have all the semen he gives to you.

“made for me, just me, mine –“ he says again, reminding, looking at you again as he continues, fingers never leaving, playing with your folds, entering it in and out. “all mine,” he listens to lewd voices coming from your pussy, whimpers and swears that leave your mouth beautifully.

“b-bi han – ooh –“

“pretty slut,” he says again, “my pretty slut though,” then his fingers covered with both your and his cum stays in front of your half-closed eyes, “open your fucking mouth.”

he watches how your mouth opens wide, taking his fingers, and licking them. his other hand stays on your hair now, caressing it, smiling proudly, “be a good girl and obey your grandmaster – know your place.” he says before leaving you free.

the moment your body collapses into the bed, a fear hits you – fear of being left behind, but, he proves it wrong when he picks you up after a while, taking you into the bath that he has prepared.

you look at his face in disbelief – hands on his chest, back and legs wrapped by his arms. “master –“

he rolls his eyes, “just stay quiet. I don’t want to hear any of your babbling about it.” you don’t say a single word after that – just smiling widely, and finding peace and affection under his arms as he takes care of you. you’re his favorite after all.

❦ tagging: @lilvampirina ^^ @snowprincesa1 ^^ @dookiemeshibear ^^ @manuusrw

#☁ second week of kinktober 2023 #kinktober 2023 #bi han #sub zero #sub zero x reader #bi han x reader #mk1 #mk1 x reader #sub zero x you #sub zero x f!reader #bi han x you #bi han x f!reader #mortal kombat 1 #bi han sub zero

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junrenjun · 18 days

Text

Understand

alpha!seungcheol x female beta!reader (side alpha!seungcheol x omega!jeonghan, with implied ot13 x reader)

genre: angst with a fluff ending

wc: 1736

warnings: mentions of injury, a/b/o dynamics, arguments

summary: seungcheol is pushing himself too far in his injury recovery. y/n calls him out and cheol says something he wishes he could take back.

a/n: couldn't sleep because this idea was stuck in my head. wrote some stuff down in google docs to get out of my brain and somehow ended up here. enjoy my first ever written fic i guess?

Seungcheol was getting fed up. Between not being able to work, not seeing the rest of his pack for most hours of the day, and having to deal with the pain in his knee, he was seconds from shutting down. You being home and scolding him like a naughty child for trying to be independent made it a whole lot worse.

He knew you just wanted his knee to heal correctly, even if it took longer than he wanted it to. But he was impatient and he just wanted to get back to work. Working on standing without his crutches was something he should probably do with his doctor or physical therapist. But he was fine, they were going to work on it at his next session in a few days, so why not start a little early. The pain would be worth it if it meant he could go back to dancing sooner.

You however, did not feel the same, turning the corner into the kitchen and catching sight of him wincing in pain whilst holding onto a chair. “Choi Seungcheol! If I see you try to stand without your crutches one more time, I’m calling your doctor and having you put on bed rest.”

It shouldn’t have sent him over the edge. It was a threat with zero malice behind it, and he knew you wouldn’t really call his doctor. But for some reason, this was his breaking point. “I’m just so over everything y/n! I’m so frustrated with this stupid injury. I can’t work anymore. I can’t do anything that makes me happy and I have to watch the rest of the pack do it without me.”

You frowned. You knew he was upset with the injury taking him out of work for a few months, but you thought he would at least have some respect for his own body and health. “I know Cheol, I understand this is frustrating but hurting yourself isn’t the best way to address your feelings.”

“No y/n you don’t know! You’re the only beta in the pack, the only girl, and the only one who isn’t an idol. You don’t get to tell me that you understand because you don’t. Betas don’t understand emotions like alphas and omegas do.”

Seungcheol regretted it instantly. Tears filled your eyes and threatened to spill past your waterline. Your scent soured and Seungcheol flinched as it hit his nose. He watched as you took a shaky breath before calmly replying, “no Cheol, I guess I don’t understand,” promptly turning on your heel to return to the bedroom.

Sighing, Seungcheol grabbed his crutches from where they leaned against the kitchen table. He hobbled back to his room, flopping onto his bed carelessly. He didn’t even care about the pain in his knee anymore, too preoccupied with the pain in his heart. Frustratedly, he grabbed the pillow next to him, pushed his face into it and let out a sound that was halfway between a yell and a growl. How could he say something so stupid?

Seungcheol was too drowned in his own misery to hear your footsteps as they traveled down the hall and toward the front door. He wasn’t even aware you had left your room until the sound of the front door closing caught his attention. It was too early for the rest of the pack to be back from rehearsal, so it had to be you. The thought of you being so distraught that you had to leave the den was enough to make what was left of Seungcheol’s sanity snap. He pushed the pillow even farther into his face and sobbed until there was nothing left to cry.

Seungcheol groaned as the pillow was removed from his arms, letting the overhead light in his room shine harshly in his eyes. He almost let out a growl, warning the person who decided to disrupt his misery-induced sleep to leave him be, but the scent of his sweet omega left it hanging in the back of his throat.

Jeonghan’s face appeared above him, finally blocking out the light that was threatening to cause a migraine. He heard the omega sigh in relief before saying, “well at least we know why you weren’t answering your phone. Do you know where y/n is? You smell like shit by the way.”

Seungcheol just grunted in response. Jeonghan sighed and called out to Wonwoo, who Cheol assumed was in the main area. He didn’t listen in on their conversation, too busy trying to get rid of the buzzing in his head. All he could make out were a few repeated words: y/n, location, and phone.

After a few minutes, Seungcheol felt Jeonghan shift on the bed to lay next to him. He paused a second before saying, “I don’t know what happened between you two but if it makes you feel any better, she didn’t go too far. Just to the cafe a few streets down.”

Cheol sniffed. “How did you even know something happened?”

Jeonghan huffed before responding. “Neither of you were responding to our texts and calls when we were on the way home. Then we walked in and the main room smelled like upset beta and angry alpha. It didn’t take long to put two and two together.”

They laid in silence for a few moments. Seungcheol broke the silence with a broken sob. “I’m such a bad pack alpha,” he cried as he turned into Jeonghan’s side.

The omega immediately closed his arms around the alpha’s side and released some calming pheromones. “No baby, you’re not a bad pack alpha. You and y/n have been around each other every second of every day since your injury, an argument was bound to happen eventually.”

Seungcheol buried his head farther into Jeonghan’s chest. He cried a little longer before he softly uttered, “I made fun of her subgender.”

Jeonghan couldn’t hold back his surprise. This couldn’t be the same Seungcheol that defended y/n’s subgender to all their fans when it was released that she had joined their pack. This couldn’t be the same Seungcheol that immediately switched her new primary care physician when he told her that she, “shouldn’t worry about birth control since her alphas were probably too busy with their omegas anyways.” This couldn’t be the same Seungcheol who made everyone wear blockers when they first invited her to the den, because he knew that betas were more sensitive to scents. Finally the omega released a small, “what?”

The alpha sniffled again. “I told her that she didn’t understand my problems because she was a beta. I didn’t mean it Hannie. I feel so stupid. What even possessed me to say that?”

Seungcheol felt Jeonghan release his hold a little bit, so that he could rub circles into the small of his back. “I don’t know why you said it, baby. But I know you didn’t mean it. The rest of the pack knows you didn’t mean it. I’m sure she does too.”

Slowly, Seungcheol pulled his face away from his omega’s chest. Jeonghan’s heart broke at the sight of his pack alpha’s broken look. “Has she come back yet?”

Jeonghan rolled over a little to look out the open door of their room. “I don’t think so. Wonwoo went to pick her up from the cafe and walk her back home. They should be back soon, I hope.”

Seungcheol just nodded and went back to sulking in Jeonghan’s arms. The omega couldn’t help but release more calming pheromones and continue rubbing his alpha’s back. He knew Cheol couldn’t help it, but his distressed scent was leaving a bad taste in his mouth. He wished it would go away soon.

A few minutes later, they both perked up at the sound of the front door opening and subsequently closing. Shoes were tossed on the tray by the door and before they knew it, you were standing in the doorway. The alpha’s scent brightened a bit. You paused when you saw Jeonghan in the bed with your pack alpha. He just smiled at you and began to pry himself away from Seungcheol, who let out a pathetic whine.

Despite the day’s earlier events, you couldn’t help but softly smile at Cheol’s “less alpha-like” tendencies. Yet another reminder that he didn’t mean the words that left his mouth a few hours before. Seungcheol was not someone who believed in stupid subgender stereotypes.

Jeonghan made his way out of the room, but not without leaving a small kiss on your forehead and a brush of his nose on your scent gland. A subtle reminder that he was here if you needed him. You took a moment to ground yourself before making your way over to the bed. “You smell like shit.”

He laughed. “You smelled worse when I made that comment earlier. But yeah, I’m sure I reek. Hannie said the same thing when he first came in.”

You smiled. His sense of humor was still intact at least. You took the lighthearted moment to cuddle up next to him and rub your wrist against the gland on his neck. “I know you didn’t mean it, Cheolie.”

Seungcheol sighed in relief. He believed Jeonghan when the omega said he was sure you knew his harsh words didn’t have any real meaning behind them. But it was still nice to hear the words from you on your own. “It wasn’t very pack alpha of me though.”

He heard you sigh a little. “No one is perfect. No pack alpha is perfect. You’re a human being too. You need to treat yourself like one Choi Seungcheol.”

He nodded as your words sunk in. He knew the double meaning behind them before you explicitly stated it yourself. “That goes for work too. You need to stop pushing yourself to recover faster. It’s just going to hurt more later on. I know you just want to get back to doing what you love but you need to love yourself first.”

His beta knew just the thing to say to tug on his heartstrings, huh? For the umpteenth time that day, Seungcheol sniffled. “I love you y/n. I wouldn’t want anyone else as my pack beta.”

You replaced your wrist with your nose, scenting him as you happily sighed, “I love you too Cheolie. No other pack alpha could ever compare.”

#choi seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x reader #s.coups x reader #s.coups #svt #svt x reader #choi seungcheol #yoon jeonghan #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #scoups x reader #scoups #a/b/o #lu writes #understand series

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fluorynn · 2 months

Text

🩻 — 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 | 𝐥. 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : lo’ak 〤 omaticayan!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : in which 4 years have passed after the incident. Change was normal to occur, but so was loss and grievance within that change. Change was something that had occurred within the youngest Sully boy when the RDA returned, when he had to flee from home and leave you behind, when the incident happened. When the Sullys returned after two years, Lo’ak instantly seeked for you, yet you’ve noticed he had changed both for the better and worse, and sometimes, most days, it had become for the worst. You’d given him many warnings throughout the year, as both of you have now reached adulthood and have committed to a relationship that at first begun with the constant lovesickness for one another, never ending touches, stolen kisses, but that was when you were mere teenagers, and as time went by, as change and grief and war came upon you, your relationship took a shift. Harsher he became, more reckless, impulsive, ignorant, inconsiderate, yet he promised he’d change for you. After every act and word, he promised to search within himself, within the past to try and find the Lo’ak he once was, the proper mate you deserved soon, the Lo’ak who you adored with your entire soul. Yet if you were to be sincere, you knew that after all these major events that happened to Lo’ak and after the months of not seeing him, he would not be the same, especially after the loss of Neteyam. You wanted to hang onto the sliver of hope, of sanity for yourself, because Lo’ak had not been the only one to have lost something, someone, yet it seemed that everyone always excused him for his behavior, nobody cared, especially Lo’ak. He was constantly out flying, ‘on patrol’, never returning to the hideout the Omaticaya People still had to endure, and his excuses only became more and more unreasonable. His father said the boy’s just under a lot of pressure, Kiri said he’d come around, but Neytiri did not; while she too grief, she too experienced major changes, it did not give her son the excuse to treat you with such heartless behavior. You loved Lo’ak, and you loved him ultimately and beyond compare. You loved him too much however, to the point where it blinded you from seeing the harsh reality that this indeed was not your Lo’ak anymore. The strong substance your people had, he somehow always found a way to consume it, practically reek of it without his family knowing — and you didn’t dare ‘rat’ him out. He wasn’t yours anymore, and every ounce of pain, of grief, of sadness you felt for him soon disintegrated. He was supposed to be your boyfriend, he was supposed to be the one bound to be your mate when the time came. But now, it seemed that he wasn’t suitable for you, and while 14 year old you promised his 14 year old self to never leave, you realized now why promises wound up empty. Everyone reaches a breaking point, and you are now finally acting upon it.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 / 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 : aged up!lo’ak, ANGST, 18+, thigh riding, fingering, grinding, mild kuru play?, overstimulation, soft!lo’ak, teasing, drinking/alcoholism — lo’ak’s insecure, stubborn, harsh and grieving still but masks it a bit well, reader is slightly sensitive, fed up w him, gives in to one more chance w him tho — italics in dialogue signifies they’re speaking Na’vi!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : pretty long, lol

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 : @bambithewriter @lilghostiequinni @pandoraslxna @avatarloverfrfr @dvxsja @princess-of-thebes-1995 @strongheartneteyam @talanyra

author’s note : Just in my feelings rn, LMAO. Neteyam series prologue will be posted soon ( hopefully….I just want to make sure it’s good and there’s enough but not too much detail to give away what may happen in future chapters — it’s one of those things where I’ve written the following chapters just not the one I should have actually put time in😭 —) but just thought I’d drop this — Lo’ak lovers, rise up! I hope you like it! Please don’t hesitate to comment, reblogs are appreciated! <33

“Good. You are up here.” You’re met with his back facing you mere feet away, the unkempt pattern of his stripes and the tense rise of his shoulders is more than enough for you to know it is him, especially when knowing that this spot is the single one reserved for him. Lo'ak Sully was left in a state of utter bewilderment, a feeling he thought he had long surpassed. Over the years, he had honed and heightened each of his senses to such an extent that no ordinary being could startle him anymore. However, you were no ordinary being, and that was precisely what captivated him. Your ability to consistently surprise and astonish him in unexpected ways kept him constantly alert and intrigued.

He gave a subtle glance to the object in his hold – a minor wooden cup filled to the brim with an alcoholic beverage — naer — one the Na’vi can smell before even spotting it for its scent is strong, vigor. At this point, there is no trying to hide or deny it from you. Even if he did try to throw it off the large branches he sat upon, the scent would be there, reeking around and on him. He had given you the vacant promise to back away from it, or very least try to yet make no effort in doing so. This drink that, while it tips one over for a bit of time, it also deprived feelings you could no longer do. Whatever had happened in his life, each burning drop down his throat and to his mind managed to fix for a minimum amount of time. Of course Lo’ak would not give this up – the opportunity to not feel anything to the bone.

“Your father said you did not show up for your training.” Your tone of voice was deficient of its common disappointment and despair, simply uttering as if you didn’t spare a care for it anymore.

“My father should learn to mind his own business and worry more about leading his People and fixing the damage done from the Sky People.” Lo’ak finally spoke, voice curt and Na’vi language gaining a thickness as he heard your subtle footsteps against branches. “I am not a child anymore.”

“You are right. You are not. But he is still your father, he worries for you. So does your mother.” You reminded him as if it were not known, reaching your spot next to his sitting frame only to spot what you’ve already suspected in his hold, taking in his physical state.

“Yeah well, he shouldn’t. He has no reason to, and neither does she.” His quip made your lips squirm down but said nothing as you observed the drink in his hand, the way his ear flitted from his own words, from your words in adding onto that his mother worries. A quirk settled between your browline but held your tongue for you did not want to start some meaningless quarrel. But Lo’ak could feel the distaste radiating from you, how you’re fighting the urge to scold him for his incapability to uphold his fair share of promises. What he doesn’t understand is why have you not done so?

“You look very pretty. Sevin ( pretty ).” He softly stated.

A small smile was all to be offered — one filled with slight remorse. His legs had been dangling down the edge of the thick lodge of glowing branch, and you pondered on doing the same as you’ve always done since you were children; swinging them above the small lake of water at the same pace he would, teasing him with a light nudge of your foot. But this time was different. Instead, you knelt beside him, knees bent beneath you and slightly tilted your body towards him. Lo’ak’s blazing irises scrutinized you the way he typically does, recognizing the strain your shoulders formed, as if you were on edge because of him. So, he took one more small swig of the liquid before his face started inclining forward to plant a light kiss on your lips. One that was fleeting – everything tied or related to Lo’ak was always fleeting.

Lo’ak’s lips very often suffused your mind from thought, so incongruous from right and wrong.

One moment Lo’ak offered his physical affections and pretty words.

The next, not even a split moment, he was causing you to suffer.

You now pondered where exactly this little act would land the both of you in.

You were the first to retract away from Lo’ak, not wanting to fall into his little patterned act. The kind of act of loving Lo’ak too destructively that overflowed everything with a single touch, and tug you back into him.

“What’s wrong?” He inquired, dark brows quirking.

Your coils lightly sway at the head shake given, yet he knew before you could have a chance to verbally utter the lie. “Lying’s not a good look for you.”

“I am not lying.” You were quick to snip out before you could contain your tone, palms pressing into your thighs that indicated the falseness of your words.

“Right.” His eyes rolled and bit, “There’s something you’d like to say?”

You can’t help but blink a few times. This was an opening, to say what was in your chest. “Srane ( yes ).”

A hum of boredom rang through the air. “Could have just said that then. No need to take the hard way around.” His golden eyes were drawn to the liquid in his hold, watching its faint glow swirl with the light flick of his wrist, and you wondered just how far gone was he. Normally, Lo’ak would have some sort of facade going on, one that’s filled with his now dry jokes and teasing smiles despite the fact that the both of you knew it was just a show. Yet now, he was unfazed of your presence as he brought the cup to his lips, throat bobbing with the largest swings he took.

Perhaps if you were standing, you might’ve tipped over and fallen to your death. He simply saw it written in bold letters right across your face. “I am not here to fight with you.” You quietly started.

“Then don’t.”

An exhale flared your cat-like nose at his crossed tone. “Okay, I will not but I am going to need you to drop whatever tone it is you’re trying to achieve with me.” Lo’ak, despite the abrupt changes spiking in him, was still your Lo’ak, so when he heard your warning, his ears pinned down by the sides of his head and eyes strayed to the ground below as an act of regret. This gave you some sliver of hope.

Not necessarily did you want Lo’ak to be unstable or uncertain with himself, it made you quite content that he’s grown into his fierceness. What was bothersome to you were his drastic changes, and it seemed what once went as two souls that twined perfectly for one another was now misplaced — your presence within his life wasn’t necessary any longer. The intoxication he was constantly washed in came with a smell too strong for your liking, too nauseating, too overwhelming for your senses. Tears swelled up in your eyes, yet you contained them. “I had thought you were going to quit.”

“If we’re speaking truthfully, I told you I'd try.” He corrected, smug voice paired with a stupid smirk.

“Hm, and have you?” You retorted and his brows hitched beneath his two thin cascades of braids. “Have you tried to quit?”

“You’ve got proof that I haven’t?” He shot back. You despised this, despised the person he’d become, despise that he seemed to knew precisely what he was doing and didn’t give two fucks about it.

“Let’s see — there’s Kiri, there’s Spider, oh there’s Tuk who tells me this!” Your voice carried a feign sweetness and surprise, watching how his brows crashed together with your sneered words. “This is the brother you wish for them to see? This is the person you want your future People to see, Lo’ak? Their possible future leader, the Tippling Olo’eyktan?”

“And what the hell is it to you, huh? We already know I’m not suit to be Leader.” His spiking temper was one to shut you up, but you did not fail to notice the light lash his tail made. “You’re not my mom, you’re not Tsahik, and you’re certainly not my mate. I don’t need you worrying over me. And I don’t need your constant annoying questions.” Your body shuddered, more so because of the harshness of his tone rather than the biting air. Your knees dug into the branch’s crippled surface, fingers winding into fists as your eyes quickly looked down. Eywa was witness to the sensitivity you’d gain over the years, the years Lo’ak happened to be in.

“It’s not common for some warm body to ask this much from their future Olo’eyktan either.” He added.

Lo’ak’s words striked you with force, causing you to physically and instinctively recoil from the sharp sting of it. The deep slice within your heart, cleanly tearing into two parts. Perhaps in some pieces, some hindsight, it could have been described as that if you didn’t add onto the fact that the both of you grew up together, the fact that he didn’t have the simplicity of courage to call you by the true title he once proudly uttered you as; his. His bound-to-be mate, his girlfriend.

“A warm body? That is all I am to you?” You questioned, and Lo’ak — pondering whether his mistake was to tell you the definition of those words in human terms or perhaps the true, more common mistake he noticed that was clearly etched in his features — gained regret behind those lax-colored eyes of his. But it was masked, tightly trapped beneath this filthy portrayal of pride, egotistical, brash and reckless man. Not even a man, a boy. “Lo’ak!”

Instead of giving you a proper answer, he threw you a side glance, one filled with provocation. The scoff emerging from your throat was inevitable, and you nodded. If this was how he wished to act, then fine. It will make the forthcoming situation much easier for you then. The only way to get through with this was if you treat him as if he was nothing to you. “We must speak.”

Push through the heartache, the pain, the way it tore you apart. You must start to truly see him for who he was in this present moment.

And what you saw was not your Lo’ak.

Lo’ak was listening, you could tell by how his ears slightly flitted up, but he said nothing. Simply awaiting for you to proceed as he took another sip.

“I…” You felt the affliction that tried clawing its way up your throat, your eyes fixating on the ground and you stayed quiet for a while.

“Just spill it already.”

“I have come to say goodbye, Lo’ak.” His slamming shock is beyond thrilling. You had been seeking, some, any type of sign that would prove Lo’ak’s care for you — and perhaps this was the answer; the high perch of his ears, the broadening of his eyes, the hitched breath. Nonetheless, it was too late. He had created his situation, and now he would have to accept the consequences.

“What do you mean g-goodbye?” He stammered, and the cup was now abandoned and falling to the ground that was far below the both of you.

“Ah, so now you can speak!”

“Enough,” he inhaled deeply. “And answer the question.” The audacity this skxawng had. You are firmer with your words “Srane. Goodbye, Lo’ak.”

“And where exactly are you going? And when exactly were you going to tell me?” He spat out in distaste and disapproval, body fully turning towards you.

“The Tipani Clan.” You responded with an edge of sass. “I am telling you right now, aren’t I?”

His response was immediate, loud and he shook his head despite your answer was to be expected, knowing that one of your deceased parents descended from there. “The Tipani Clan? What about—” He halted his sentence from speaking of himself, of how if you left, you’d be tearing apart from him and taking it with you. But fear of vulnerability halted him from doing so, so instead he dodged it. “What about your duties here? I thought you promised to be here for your People in case the Sky People returned. To help rebuild.”

“Lo’ak, I am telling you that I am leaving and all you care about speaking is duty? Are you serious?” He instead looked away from you, too stubborn to answer, so you said his name again. He ignored you.

“Lo’ak, fucking look at me.” It was the rarity of hearing you speak English and the vulgar word thrown in the mix that caught Lo’ak’s attention, gold orbs flickering to you in an instant and you immediately notice the diversity of emotion pooling them.

“So all that matters to you, is my duty to the Omaticaya? For me to not be here as a fixer upper for them? You only care about that being broken? Is that the only thing that matters in that head of yours?”

No. The response was, should have been a fierce no. You were constantly, always in Lo’ak’s head. He yearned for you extravagantly, and besides staying alive for the sake of his family, you were one of the few things he could find himself caring for. There would be many cold and curt swears to never trust, to never care or love after losing someone who not only qualified as a good mate, but a loving one, is what Lo’ak thought, he knew it. If you left him — when you left him, he would be done with it, with the twinge of good, of hope. He’d be completely shut off from ever seeking a mate to be bonded with under Eywa’s will, he would not care of continuing the legacy of his name despite him now being the only son. His heart, the heart you once saw as fearless and strong, would be guarded by much thicker, massive walls, and that small space would only become constricted by the waves of his tears. While you were everything to him, you were not sufficient enough to spare him the grief. At least not alone.

While he has grown, while he has sculpted his abilities and became nearly as mighty as his big brother, under all that was still a broken, hurt boy filled with guilt. He could not allow himself to get rid of that part of himself. He could not shed enough tears to move past everything that happened, that he had seen and lost.

Lo’ak loved you, he was deeply in love with you. And perhaps another thing that has changed was that he could not depend everything on you, and instead needed other things, distractions despite it being selfish. He needed to fly because it could get him away from the ground and connect to the closest thing that felt like Neteyam, he needed to drown himself in that alcohol the Na’vi made because it drowned away all the pain and misery his family went through and still hold, the burden to try and add up to something, someone he will never be able to fill. But while he’s engulfed himself in all that, he could pretend that his family wasn’t broken. That it was the same, once happy family it once was 5 years ago. The one that still had Neteyam’s presence, the one that still had a father rather than a commanding leader. In this minor haven of numbness, he could still pretend that those once fond memories were fresh, remembered the way they were supposed to be reminisced. He could not just let it go.

Meanwhile, Lo’ak’s silence was tearing you apart, fragmenting your heart into pieces. But now you knew, you saw the truth. You could not keep a desperate grasp around old words and acts anymore, for now they were faint. Empty. Pointless gifts of a said courting that was going nowhere. Loving phrases and charming grins he more than knew could accomplish in capturing your heart.

But now it was clear as day that it meant nothing to Lo’ak. You meant nothing to Lo’ak. He did not love you as much as you loved him.

His throat cleared, and thickly spoke in English. “Your place is here, Y/N.” His eyes refused to meet yours, jaw narrowed enough to demonstrate he was clearly upset, though you’re not certain why.

“It was.” The correction you gave his words finally made everything click. His gaze lingered on the lake’s neon glow before lifting to look at you, trying to catch your own. The pretty decorated braids that framed his face moved with the motion of his head slanting to the side. He repeated your word, squinting before shaking his head and more so whispering to himself, “You’re leaving.”

Sharply exhaling, you finally uttered, “I am also here to end things between us, Lo’ak.”

Again, he was bewildered, and the cut breath he released made it known. Eyes darted over each feature upon your face, as if trying to commit it all into his memory, panic slowly seeping within him. “Can…I can say something, right?” His tone still carried its infamous jeer, but you suppose that was the last you deserved. You were the first to engage in this conversation. When you grant him the permission to speak, he wasted no second in taking advantage of it.

“W-where’s this coming from?”

You’re more than certain more inquiries will follow, and one or two questions will satisfy his little interrogation.

“What’s the motive behind all this, huh? How long you’ve been planning this, to leave me?” Lo’ak’s voice was one that never faltered nowadays — he, much like his father, was a fierce speaker. You knew that Lo’ak did not like to be kept in the unknown, in hiding. But now his voice was rather meek. His once honed gaze turned rounder, emphasizing that he may cry. What you despised most in this moment, was that it unphased you. Before this, all the trouble and conflict spiking between you and your Lo’ak, his tears were your least favorite thing in this entire existence. Out of everyone, you once believed Lo’ak was the least of them all to deserve the brim of tears. That he deserved happiness. The sight of them always managed to tear you bit by bit with every fallen droplet, and now it hardly mattered. While you do still very much believe that he indeed deserved happiness, you’ve reached your limit. You’ve devastatingly accepted that you could not restore that happiness in Lo’ak.

“Few weeks. A month maybe.” You answered faintly. You use the best of your abilities to keep a firm composure. It would be miserable to cry, especially right then and there. Lo’ak stumbled through his repetition of your answer, dubiety twisting your features, mind and heart. You cannot seem to comprehend the sudden shift of his act. The authentic perplex and strain to recall what went wrong as if he never saw this coming from you.

“Whatever I did, I’m sorry, Y/N—” His long arms extended, touch reaching to collide with you, yet he reluctantly retracted back as if he’d been scorched by some blazing flame of a barrier around you. He repeated his apology, scrambling to try and find whatever pieces he’s broken and bring them back together while trying with all his strength to not lose his damn mind. “Lemme mend this — y-you have to let me mend this, okay?”

His voice is desperate, pleading, and it was as if he’s speaking without wanting to hear reason. Lo’ak may not be known for his smartness, but he was clever with certain things. To you, Lo’ak was everything. But even so, that usual thick headed mind of his was unable to get himself out of this one.

“Y/N, we can — it’s mendable.” His head was repeatedly bobbing up and down, and it told you that perhaps you’ve brought him out of his drunken state. Brought him back to Pandora, at least for a split moment, you thought.

“I think it is too late now, ma Lo’ak.” His eyes shuttered and he let out a quivered exhale. “Baby, don’t say that, please—” He reached for you again, this time pushing through the fear and on with it. He couldn’t help the slightness of grimace upon him when his hands cut into your self-obtained space, and it was then that he realized why that burn had been a great protection for you.

Anxious, panic-stricken he was, digits winding around the bareness of your hips and wasted no second in tugging you upon his lap. “Please…just give me one more chance a-and let me mend this, yeah? Baby?”

The expanse of his palms quivered when they lifted to your cheeks, your own gripping the taut muscles of his shoulder blades to maintain your balance, to keep yourself steady from the pleading within his green-speckled hues. The air surrounding Lo’ak reeked of that forsaken alcohol, entangled through his braids, the essence of his blue flesh, his accessories.

You take him in; the faint violet flushed beneath the sockets of his eyes, the drain that highly beseeched at you with every syllable tumbling from his cloying lips. “I’m….fuck.” His breathing was escalating; more turbulent, almost hysterical as he tried retaining every part of you inside of himself.

Without your willingness, you’re gently moved, yet still, your form remained unyielding.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, and you know that.” His softly hushed words were right. You knew he meant them. While Lo’ak’s emotional avoidance over the last few years had been quite a lot, it did not make him exceedingly insensitive. He was full of many pretty words, but never once did he utter abundant words into existence without purpose. But what you only wished for was that he’d been able to say them sooner. Could have been swarmed with the realization and recognition of you before you’d made it to the edge of the cliff above the depths. All that was left for you to do in order to escape was to take the act in plummeting. To end things with Lo’ak, to start anew with your own life.

It is unattainable, you’re more than convinced that this is the end of the path for the both of you. Even with that said forged in your mind, you nodded still. Purposeless it was to see him in this state of franticity and fear of the prospect of losing you burdening your heart. You may feel repentant later on, but you’re to leave once this is finished, once this is over with and you’d never return to the Omaticaya. Lo’ak was to be an experience of your past. He would hate you then, hate you for an eternity for what you were to do, but you knew he would be okay. What he needed was his family. To fix those cracks, to patch those injuries. To improve himself, Lo’ak must and will find a way to find his true self beneath all those layers of resentment and suffering.

That was all that ceased to matter.

“I can mend this? You’ll let me?” You nodded once more, but he did the opposite in an act of disapproval. “Nah, I need to hear it. Let me hear you.” His voice was glazed with true, raw pain, something you haven’t heard from him in such a long time. “Please, Y/N…”

“You can mend this, ma Lo’ak.”

“Y-you promise me that?” He questioned, and for a moment you faltered. It’d be much more deceiving for him to know you were lying. So you don’t, and instead you let the tips of your four fingers stray to the nape of his neck and pull him into a kiss. And in this moment, you knew that you had never loved with such depth, such fervor with every fiber in your being.

You were aware that once you vanished from here, the fractures etched in your heart would scorch, ablaze to the point where you would feel every flicker and pain. With that being said, you poured it all into this one kiss, one that seized every ounce of respiration from his lungs. Vehementing it was. Vehementing you were, of course. His mind was nebulous; hazy, too fucked over — but you were here. In amidst the turmoil of an inner war, you. He loved you profoundly, and he knew you well. Well enough to know what the next day would bring. He knew why you were contributing to this, why you were granting him the belief that his pathetic attempt of resolution would be enough.

You loved Lo’ak as well.

The thought of facing a day without your presence gracing his life churned his chest with a crushing sense of loss, the palpitating organ within bending and compressing as if some being had reached and tried bending it to their own taunting will. He must give you everything, he had to give you everything, risk it all, and perhaps it would be sufficient. This time it is Lo’ak who retreated from you, dark lashes fluttering against the warmth of your cheek while his eyes perused over your face just one more time.

“You know that no matter where you go, you’ll always be mine.” His words were not a question, more so a statement of persistence and certainty the both of you felt and knew deep within your bones.

“You do understand, yeah?” You could hardly form a verbal response, though you do not give him the opportunity to bask in his little glory, and instead your hands, the ones currently on his shoulders, slid to the beaded necklaces encasing his toned neck, fingers tangling through them. “If you’re going to do something, get on with it.”

Lo’ak can’t help the soft smirk hoisting his cheek at your clipped tone and grumbled, “Impatient much?” Candidly speaking, this was perhaps the closest he was to being himself. That brilliant smile you haven’t seen in so long resisting the urge to be the prime focus of attention. A pity, really, for you.

“You still trust me?” He noticed your indecisiveness. He doesn’t give you time to respond for he soon added on, “Like this?” and that almost immediately changed the answer. The adapted pads of his fingers grazed down the dip of your neckline and to the elegant line of your collarbone, peering down your figure. “Do you trust me enough to have you like this?”

Your chin slightly dipped bashfully as you nodded. His brows drew together and hissed in a breath. “I wanna hear you say it then. Make this easier for the both of us.” Your delicate beaded chest piece subtly heaved from the ascent your chest made, and he could not help but laugh, eyes crescent-shaping with the sound, at your irritated voice. “I trust you, Lo’ak.”

“Good.” he muttered softly beneath his breath while letting his hands fall and secured themselves to your hips.

Yes, good, you repeated the single word in your own mind.

“You’d give yourself to me right here, right now?” He questioned, and you stuttered at this. It wasn’t the upmost ideal thing, for this spot practically belonged to you and Lo’ak was perhaps the most reserved place within the Forest since you were children. But it was the Forest, and you never knew who from the People could be wandering around. The thought of someone stumbling upon you and the Olo’eyktan’s son out in the open petrified you.

Though it seemed your pussy thought otherwise and did not mind one bit of this idea.

“S-srane ( yes ).” Firm was your word, and it pleased Lo’ak. Muscle memory it became when his palms created a path upwards from your hips. Palms that held such tenderness as they splayed up your stomach, blunt nails beginning to faintly engrave themselves into the azure flesh of your waist, soon following your midsection to endearingly trace over the pretty stripes decorated there.

The strokes he caused made you squirm in his lap, body curling slightly to the side and your nose twitched cutely. “Lo’ak, enough—” your plea went ignored once more by him.

“Do y’know how pretty you are?” Lo’ak’s words caused your heart to skip a rather large beat. Curse his idiotic mouth, curse him. Curse his abilities to have you melt with a single breath of his lungs.

“Our People always speak about the Great Mother’s beauties. Saying how she spent a great deal on Pandora,” he murmured and you didn’t hesitate to listen, even despite the light acts created from his touch that have your abdomen twitching.

“But gosh, I think you’ve bested her.” He exhaled almost breathlessly, as if the weight of his words were too grand and exquisite from being spoken to existence, to you. You saw nothing but sincerity in his face, blinking rapidly when he tapped your hip and uttered, “Take it off now.”

His demand left no inch of a room for a disagreement, so without further hesitation, you hitched yourself a bit up while wobbly fingers perched down and into the weaves of your tewng, slipping the garment off. You more than knew that when he meant to take it off, he meant to discard everything — such as your little chest piece. But almost as if it were a challenge, you do not. This drew a chuckle out of Lo’ak and you rolled your eyes despite settling back down on his thigh.

His mouth moving hot against yours, and for a second your entire world stilled, the remaining fragments of your heart plummeted, the wild fluttering as the single thing inside of you capable of sustaining life. Your ache, your beautiful, throbbing, lifelong ache dwindled for a moment as Lo’ak’s mouth meshed with yours. He kissed you fiercely, fingers brushing the lower swell of your breast, breathing existence back into your being, and it was then that you moaned lowly for him.

When he ripped his mouth away from your own, it was when his fingers found their way down the dips of your stomach, outlining the lower section, soon curling around the upper muscle of your thighs to part them just a bit more, dragging two deftly fingers through the growing mess between.

“Even when that pretty head of yours wanna hate me, this body can’t resist me, hm?” He retracted his hand as he spoke, long enough to glide those two fingers between his lips, humming contently around them before pulling them out. They were profusely coated with his spit, making it such an effortless task to increase the mess worse. Its pads nudged back and forward between your slit, occasionally granting nurturing circles to your nub. Your mind was becoming warped within the lust, back to clutching onto his shoulders for steadiness.

Your nails punctured the muscles there with the longing to grind against something, anything. “You’re so damn wet, mamas.” The foreign nickname had force in tearing out a sharp gasp from your throat, and he huffed out a chuckle while absorbing all the moist sensation.

“ ‘m gonna have you all fucked up on my fingers, then some more with my dick, how does that sound?” The sensation of his dark plaits grazed your cheek, lips adding on when they brushed your flickering ear. “You want that, Y/N/N/?”

You could not do anything more than whine, allowing your hips to wind forward in hence to catch every languid swipe of his slim fingers against you. Your body quaking, head pummeling as you padded near the pleasure.

Pleasure which you more than knew was not healthy. It was as if adding a single aid to a severe wound. The following day, you would detest yourself to the core for giving into this thrilling temptation; the thrusts he gave your tightened cunt, the kisses shared between your swollen mouths, the caresses given to your skin, all of this would create much more difficulty for you to move on.

Lo’ak’s fingers wasted no time in swatting against your swollen clit, pads of each digit rubbing gingerly over. Sensitive it was, every swipe causing your entire body to stutter.

You can feel more arousal oozing out of your cunt, adhering to Lo’ak’s constricting thigh. His flesh would be tainted with your slick, his dangling braids and pretty coils would be ruined with every slight tug given by the time you were done. Though he could not bring himself to care about it, he was not letting you go at this moment, he could not ever bring himself to do it.

The momentum of his overworked digits were lethal, you'd be culminating in a matter or seconds. The hand currently entangled within Lo’ak’s hair suddenly disappeared to slide down the base of his thick queue, fingers delicately curling around the sensitivity while you began to subtly gyrate your hips forward, the stimulation becoming much more direct and effective.

Though the act made from your dainty touch caused his jaw to go slack, pupils engulfing the golden pools of his eyes as a soft hiss whispered from his mouth.

"Look at you go, baby…" Tongue peeked out just to glide over his honed incisors before teasingly reaching forward to lightly bite your pouting lower lip, gaze never tearing from yours.

Everything is what you were to him.

The brimming of your orgasm deepened inside the center of your lower belly, spiraling bit by bit. “Hey, no, look at me, mamas.” His tone is low but beseeching, words practically breathing into you, directing you to obey his plea despite the violent desire to let your head slant back if it weren’t for another one of his pleas catching you, voice caressing the tethers of your soul.

“Please look at me, sevin. Lemme see you when you fall apart for me, yeah?” And it was then that you were reminded of your thoughts from earlier.

How fucking perilous Lo’ak’s mouth could be.

“Ma L-Lo’ak—” His name was uttered in a whine, clutch becoming firmer around the single braid of his as you compelled yourself to remain in eye contact with the Sully son. He squirmed yet didn’t reprove you and continued his work between your legs despite the building-up ache bulging between his own, three fingers dipping lower to gather more slick before adding it to his pattern against your throbbing clit.

“I-I’m close,” you huffed out, and Lo’ak nodded deliberately, the subtle movement of his pleading face mesmerizing you. “C’mon, lemme see it happen. Lemme see what I do to you, how good I make you feel, hm?”

"Hmm— L-Lo’ak, you're gonna make me cum." Perhaps you were nearly driven to tears when Lo’ak craned his neck forward again, though this time his lips pecked over the pink contours of your scrunched nose first, sweet, loving kisses falling over each star-like speck across your cheeks, beginning to create a path all over your face.

“You’re doing so, so good f’me. Always so fucking sweet to me." His breathy muttering oughted you to look away abashed, flustered.

"You love the boy you knew, don't you?"

"You're not a boy anymore — y-you’re to be grown, to to be Olo’eyktan o-one day." You reminded him curtly, words tumbling from your lips as you tried focusing more towards your pleasure.

"Nah, no." His head shook, the two braids aligned to each of his cheeks swaying from the motion. "Grown — Grown Lo’ak is very different from boy Lo’ak, isn't he?"

Your heart couldn’t help but falter at this, a muskiness kissing your waterline, blinding your senses as you stared at him solemnly. "I love every version of you, ma Lo’ak. I just love you."

Agitation suddenly crumbled his pretty features, and brokenly whispered, “Then why are you choosing to leave me?"

You truly did want to answer him despite the way your heart nearly plummeted to your stomach, yet it was difficult to. His lips sweetly found their place over your face again, prickling your flesh as if pointed needles.

“L-Lo’ak." He merely hummed at the low warning. "It’s okay, just go ahead mamas. I know." He whispered against your flushed cheekbone.

"Cum for me, you've been so good, sevin. My pretty girl." Your chest heaved overwhelmingly, the tips of your ears flirting with each of the pretty, earnest words he reiterated, swelling the urge for you to sob. "Perfect and pretty. The only girl, my only babygirl."

And perhaps you would sob.

"All you have always done is take care of me, huh? But who takes care of you?" His working hand dragged up, and the sudden act caused you to jolt. Lo’ak’s free arm and hand, however, wasted no second in coiling around your midsection in order to keep you from moving away.

"Just wanna make it up to you, tìyawn. Just tell me that's what you want from me." He beseeched, nose nuzzling into the line of your trembling jaw.

“Y-yes, that is what I want, ma Lo’ak. Please, please, please. T-Take care of me — make me cum— make it up t-to me, Lo’ak, please." A moan rumbled in the center of your throat for Lo’ak felt it when his lips twisted upwards into a wide grin. “Then do it — c’mon, cum for me, baby. Let it out…”

He didn’t need to instruct it twice for you came in an instant. It washed over with a moan, long and broken, your head seizing forward and into the crevice of said neck and broad shoulder. Damped lips were immediate to latch onto the future Olo’eyktan’s neck, biting, suckling, and softly licking the striped flesh, body quivering as you were thrown over the edge.

Your walls twitched around a vacant place, and Lo’ak kneaded your abused numb through the aftershocks as the pearlescent proof of your release pooled out of your cunt. "Fuuck, my pretty girl, doing so damn good for me." He crooned sweetly, the long length of his lashing tail somehow finding its way to tenderly coil around the thigh clenched by his side.

You faintly feel the swift movements of his hands reaching down to fiddle with his own tewng, yet the dread was too heavy for you to react.

It was only then when you realized that Lo’ak was not stopping his tempting assault that you found the strength to peer hazily down at where your pussy and Lo’ak’s fingers met. He was still playing with your pussy, flexing digits coating themselves in your sweet essence before ramming them right into your much sensitive hole.

He was immediate in starting at a brutal pace, so engrossed in searching for the spot that would have you squirting all over him.

"L-Lo’ak, Lo’ak, no w-wait, please— " Yet he had decided to not listen to your cries. Not even looking at your face, no, his gaze was enthralled with the way his fingers are digging you out, the way you swallowed them whole, nearly becoming one with them.

"No, you must take it. You can take it.” He forewarned but your head was shaking in denial, a sob flying out your mouth. “K-Kehe ( no ). I-I can’t, m-ma Lo’ak—”

“But you can, baby. I know you can.” His brows furrowed softly together, brushing against your browline as his forehead kissed yours. “And you know how I know that? Hmm?”

Stammers were the only that managed to be formed. “Because I know you, Y/N. I am the only one who knows you better.” He fed you the answer he had been seeking for and your chin jutted up and down. “Or am I not, mamas?”

“Y-yes, L-Lo’ak, it is you — just you.” A chuckle proudly spewed from him. “And who knows this pretty pussy better than me?” Hips jerked forward, whining with a gasp at the harsh deepness of his digits. Your grip on his queue released, palms scattering out and planting on each side of Lo’ak’s angular face as you kept his attention locked towards you.

“N-no one, ma Lo’ak. N-no one—”

Lo’ak nodded firmly, “That’s what I thought, baby. Now, let me treat her the way she deserves to be treated, okay?” His mouth brushed over your lush one, yet didn’t necessarily grant you the yearn of a kiss. Not as he noticed the subtle flash of upset striking your face.

“Just one more chance for tonight.” He added after a pause. “You’ll let me have her for tonight, won’t you, Y/N?”

You whined shamelessly, “Y-yes, o-oh! P-please, Lo’ak—”

“That’s the Y/N I know,” His praise went by tenderly while the act between your legs was entirely distinct, much more carving, exhilaratingly burning you. “My Y/N, my girl.”

Your pussy was well acquainted with the feel of Lo’ak’s touch, a rather hefty debate between said cock and fingers. Every single adapted ridge, divot, arch. Always, always taking him so well, so eagerly, prettily desperate for Lo’ak.

"You're so wet." He grunted, pupils dilating in awe from the brief yet sufficient enough glance given to the drenching mess. "Need you to tell me how it feels."

“So good, Lo-Lo’ak. You make me feel so, so good." Lo’ak liked you like this, all in a drunken daze, vocals all garbled up.

"You gonna cum, mamas?" You could not even answer, not as your body actively chased every thrust. "I can feel you squeezing my fingers so good. Jeesh, you're so damn perfect." He rasped lovingly, "Love having you like this…you’re everything to me, you know that?”

The words were meant more to himself, yet you heard him all the same. “L-Lo’ak." you muttered though the tut his tongue made kept you from proceeding, head shaking. “Shh, don’t say anything. I jus’ want you to cum for me, got it? Flood my shit.”

You felt every curl, every nudge his fingers gave the most sensitive spot within, your insides coiling, rattling all at once to the point where you nearly lost all feel of your lower body, all sense of the way your tail swiveled, the way your limbs quivered. “Make a mess all over your future Olo’eyktan, hm?”

The hand grasping your hip rose to press against the rising arch of your back, encouraging the pretty dip to take shape while your inner thighs clenched around Lo’ak’s palm.

But the continuous push to your back flushed you forward, thighs yanking open with the lankiness of his lower abdomen shoving between. The act caused his fingers to retreat from your weeping hole and knead them sloppily upward. The intensity of your subsequent climax came in high waves when he slumped them back inside, pumping once, twice, three times all in one before he was pulling back to stimulate your pulsating clit.

White spasms of what could be compared to blazing stars overcome your vision, a shriek rippling from your hoarse throat while you drizzled your release all over Lo’ak, the hands once cradling his face dragging down to the length of his neck and jabbing your thumbs into the hollow of his constricting throat. Tears cascade down your glowing, flushed cheeks, a never ending streak assisted by the river flowing from your cunt — an enthralling combination that had Lo’ak feeling ecstatic.

"Mhm, that's it, baby. Just ride that shit out for me…that’s it, there you go." His encouragement had your body feeling dazed and spent as you leaned forward to flush yourself against Lo’ak’s dampened chest, ear flickering at the rumbled sound he created.

"You did so good for me." Lo’ak muttered into your other ear, mouth grazing the point of it. "So, so good." The length of his palm moved to cradle the curve of your head as he felt the racketing your body created, watched the sways your lovely tail created before it nestled right beside his thigh.

"Your pussy's so perfect, made to take me, made to listen to me, isn’t that right?” You couldn’t help not answer from the embarrassment clutching at you, and instead nuzzle the tip of your nose over a glowing speck on his cobalt striped chest.

"Nga yawne lu oer ( I love you )." This was sincerely declared with a brush of a kiss to your head. "I do, I really, really do." He insisted, and he couldn’t evict the sniffles following that scrunched his nose afterwards. "I am sorry, very sorry for the way I’ve acted."

You were too exhausted to create some sort of movement, but one thing that was for certain was that Lo’ak preferred it this way. It made the act of speaking, of apologizing much easier for him.

"God, I really have been so selfish, haven’t i?” A deep furrow found its way to your forehead at his self chastising, at the way he was combined, conflicted between uttering this to you or to himself. “You will still leave. You won’t be here anymore. This is really happening, isn’t it?”

Another stiff sound left Lo’ak, so meek, so lost before sweetly adding, “I promise I did try. For you, I really tried. F-for them — for my family. To be what they need— what you needed.” A sob strangled within his throat, mind nearly beginning to descend into that fogging darkness. “A-and I know it’s not an excuse, I know it’s been years but after we left, a-after Neteyam—”

Yet the gentle, secure entanglement of your arms pulled Lo’ak from that mindset, and he found solace within this embrace, keeping him close, letting him feel and know that you were there.

“Q-quiet. Enough — do not do this to yourself.” You stammered out softly, a light kiss meeting his collarbone. “We still have one more chance, ma Lo’ak. One more chance within this night. One more chance to pretend that this is not our future, to pretend that everything is fine, yes? Do not waste it by recounting your regrets, okay?”

Lo’ak’s mind geared this over, and in there, and in his heart, he more than knew that he will never be able to bring himself to love with such force as the way he loved you. Yet still, even now he could not express it in a good, healthy, proper way that you truly deserved. He would find a way to prove it, however. To show, to act, to live by it as if it was the very sole purpose of his life. Lo’ak would find the pieces of himself beneath all this tethered and tainted pain, and bring them together within himself in order to bring himself back to life.

Lo’ak would do it for you. For his family.

So you could learn to love him again.

But he would do it for himself as well.

In order for him to learn to love himself again.

"Wipe your tears for right now, okay? I am still here. I am right here in front of you." Lo’ak’s firm arms surrounded your frame into a hold that was soothing, familiar, full of strength. It blossomed molten warmth within your chest, erupting an arsenal of emotions.

"Whatever you — whatever you wish to give I will take." you ended meekly and Lo’ak was certain he had fallen for you all over again. Yes, his climb back to victory would be well worth it. For you to look at him one day, and to once again see him as the boy you loved, the man you will love, the man you admired so profoundly. It made Lo’ak’s entire heart begin to tremble, along with the curves of his lips.

"Alright then, sevin. Just take a breather and rest for a while, yeah? Our night's just getting started."

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sanakimohara · 5 months

Text

“Tongue Tied” H.J.

{ MDNI } [ SEMI PROOFREAD ]

++++++

Jisung is so cute when he laughs and you get giddy hearing it but oh does it hurt to know he can’t be yours. You sit alone, mind running rampant with less than pure thoughts you’ve had about him, and not a single person suspects why you’re so quiet.

You’re always silent, everyone knows that, so you sit and imagine scenario after scenario.

You keep from staring at him by occupying yourself with a game on your phone. It works for a while but at some point Jisung sitting near you, talking up a storm as usual, and barely acknowledging your presence.

That is until he accidentally bumps into you. It’s not on purpose. Just a little nudge against the back of your head. You wince, not because he’s hurt you, but because you weren’t expecting to be this close to him all of a sudden.

Jisung smiles at you before apologizing, “My bad. I didn’t see you there. We good?” He holds out his hand, suggesting a fist bump to reconcile his mistake. You don’t say anything, just flash him a small smile before bumping a closed fist against his, and just like that he turns around to resume his conversation. You frown at the loss of attention and decide to leave your spot on the couch and go to the bathroom instead.

You want a minute alone, just to think, and maybe unwind yourself to get through the rest of the night with your sanity still intact.

Jisung is just…he drives you crazy…and you can’t do a thing about it.

You’d risk being hated by everyone, people would question your morality, and he’d definitely reject you. If locking yourself in a bathroom to get off on the thought of him was what you had to do to keep things the way they are now…it wasn’t a problem for you.

So, you stand, slipping past everyone towards the farthest bathroom. It’s upstairs and you doubt anyone will come looking for you up there. No one ever notices your absences in the first place. Jisung did though.

The moment you stood up from the couch he was leaning against his attention shifted from the conversation to your empty seat. He’d ask himself why you would leave, not aloud, but a singular thought he keeps to himself. His focus would be disconnected, trying to come up with reasons you’d disappear, and he comes to the conclusion it’s his fault. Maybe it really bothered you when he accidentally hit you. Maybe you felt even more alone when he continued to speak to someone else after apologizing.

These tiny assumptions about your behavior made him feel guilty and so Jisung excused himself, “I’m gonna go use the restroom. I’ll be right back.” He followed the path he’d seen you take upstairs, jogging up the steps, and heading down the hall to see which room you were in. Not his old one. Nor the master bedroom. You weren’t in the loft either. So that left the bathroom.

He hesitated to check there but eventually decided it wouldn’t hurt to be sure. He was about to knock, but instantly froze when he heard your soft moans and trembling whispers.

You were so quiet, barely mumbling louder than the running faucet you’d turned on to muffle any noise you make that might be heard outside. That little diversion doesn’t work too well since he’s inches away from the door, unable to speak, and even less capable of moving as he eavesdrops on you.

“Jisung…” you moan shakily, face burning up as the sound of his name edges you closer to your high. He bites his lip, having to shut his eyes to keep from reacting impulsively to your delicious little sounds. You, of all people were saying his name, chanting it between breathless sighs and strained whimpers. His cock twitched to life, growing firm in his jeans as he listened more closely.

You slid down to the floor, two fingers deep inside your cunt that was dripping cum at this point. Your clit was slick and ever so sensitive each time your thumb circled it in slow repetition.

You were sure his tongue could do so much better than your small fingers. His hands firmly gripping your inner thighs, pushing your legs apart as far as he needed to have unrestricted access to your count while eating you out.

Fuck, you swore his dark eyes would look so gorgeous staring up at you when your cum flowed onto his tongue. He wouldn’t hesitate to lap up the mess you make, smiling proudly when he spits on your overstimulated cunt.

Jisung is always so chaotic, charming, and easy to get along with. Just the thought of him being shamelessly filthy with you is a sin you indulge in.

He wouldn’t care about the disassociated look in your eyes when he sits up, admiring the sight of your fucked out state before rising to his feet, and fisting your hair into a makeshift ponytail. You whine in pain but he doesn’t care. “You’re okay sweetheart,” he reassured you, taking his belt off and setting it on the counter before unzipping his pants. A deep sigh rumbles in his chest as the confines keeping his erection hidden are loosened. You help him, expertly tugging his cock free from his boxers and pants.

Jisung bites back a groan feeling your bare hands wrap around his shaft. Your touch is soft and your fingers are still damp from touching yourself. A perfect combination. He can’t help the smile on his face as he stares down at you, on your knees, kitten licking his leaking tip with the most lustful look he’s ever seen.

You lick at his cock like candy, savoring how salty his precum is, and pumping his cock for more when it’s gone. Jisung leans back, dragging you with him, and bucking his hips towards your face for more. He’s not ready to force himself into your mouth, no, he wants to see how long you’ll tease him despite dreaming of tasting his cock for god knows how long.

“Come on, pretty girl. Let me fuck your face…” he pressed the tip to your pouty lips, a longing look in his eyes as he waits for you to oblige him. You do without a warning, deep throating him in one go.

He nearly moans too loud, head reeling back as the warmth of your mouth envelops his dick generously. It’s heaven on earth for him. Your delicate tongue swirling up and over his length in intricate patterns and your hands fondle his base gently with every bob of your head.

He’d be lying if he told you he wasn’t jealous of the other men who’ve had the honor of getting head from you.

A strangled chuckle leaves his chest as you deep throat him again, inviting his tip to abuse the back of your throat, and each time you’d moan like it was a personal reward for you.

Jisung looked back down at you, drops of sweat forming on his temple from the unrelenting heat coursing through him, and it was no help to him that you looked perfectly in love with him fucking your face. Drool trickled down your chin, tears glossing your half lidded eyes, and your face a shade of light pink.

He could only admire you for so long before his eyes rolled back slightly in pleasure.

You moaned on his dick, vibrating it with pressure, and then you felt him twitch. He was close and you were eager to feel his release coat your tongue and slide down your throat. “Fuck…fuck you’re so…gooooddd Ahm…” he moaned quietly, whimpering in utter bliss, and struggling to find any other words to praise you.

Your heart swells with pride hearing Jisung’s compliment and you take extra care in sucking him off then. Your tongue circled his tip slower and your hands pump his base faster.

The overstimulation paired with the impending height of his climax has him growling and groaning like a touch starved man .

You think it’s so cute.

“Want you…need you to take it alll…” he stutters, nearly pleading for you to swallow his seed as it pours out into your dainty mouth.

There’s so much of it, warm, salty, and thick. It flows down your chin but you keep milking his tip with your tongue for more as you swallow it down greedily.

You’ve got him shaking at this point, whining in immense pleasure, and it’s so intoxicating. Jisung has no words, only a stunned expression when you finally remove your lips from his cock with a soft ‘pop’ a string of cum and saliva connects you to him and you lick it up with a content smile.

“M’ sorry if I did too much…I’ve just wanted to do that for a while,” you break the silence with a genuine apology and a heartfelt smile.

He regains his composure and starts to fix himself up, shaking his head in disbelief from what just happened.

Jisung doesn’t regret it though and he lets you know that with a pleased smirk on his face. “No need to apologize. I needed it anyway and…” his gaze trailed over your body, dark eyes hazing over with lust again when they met yours, “I have a few things I want to do to you too…”

Your face heats up and you have to look away from him as he leans down to caress your face with one hand. “I want to keep you as my little secret alright? You’d like that too, right sweetheart?” Jisung kisses you, knowing you’ll say yes, knowing you’ll chase his lips for another kiss.

He’ll let you have it, dominating your tongue with his, and only pulling away when you’re panting for air.

+++++++

I wrote this for a crush a while back but it fit Jisung so well that I decided to tweak it to feed all the Jisung stans 🖤 hope you enjoy it…

BONUS CONTENT +

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kanekisfavoritegf · 1 year

Text

I Just Want to Please You

Jonathan Joestar - The actual love of my life

Warnings: oral, overstimulation, bondage, soft dom, dacryphilia, breeding, ab riding, cream pie, pussy drunk Jonathan lots of things..

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI you will be blocked!🩷

the more i look at this the more i hate it LMFAO

@sailewhoremoon @neptunes1nterweb

Jonathan loves you passionately, sometimes too passionately. This had been your fifth orgasm of the night and your husband, Jonathan, showed no signs of slowing down anytime soon.

It was exhausting sometimes. The way he’d switch you from position to position. While you were too weak from your orgasm to move or say slow down. Each night, he’d have you go dumb, and each night, you’d let him. Because no matter how much he asked of you, you loved him just as much as he loved you. And what better way to show that love than letting him use you like a rag doll?

That's how you ended up in the position you were in now. Staring up at the ceiling and grasping onto the sheets below you. Your legs, pulled apart, held by the sheer strength of your husband.

The sound of your moans and his constant licking and sucking at your bud drove you wild. Every once in a while, you would hear Jonathan let out a deep moan, causing you to look up and stare as he humped the bed while pleasuring you.

It was a pornographic sight, truly.

But you couldn’t handle it at all.

“Jonathan please, too much-” You threw your head back and started to moan uncontrollably. You raised your hand to try and pry his head away from your clit, but your previous orgasms had made you weak against the man. To your luck, Jonathan stopped, sighing a little before kissing the top of your head, before moving his kisses to your neck, giving small bites here and there. You were too distracted by his sweet but sudden actions that you didn’t even realize that Jonathan had taken off his tie and begun wrapping your arms within the fabric.

“Jonathan?” you’d whisper out to him.

“Sh, it’s ok, my love. I just need you to be patient, yeah? You can do this for me, right, my love?” You nodded yes while a small line of drool began rolling down your chin. “That’s right. You are so perfect. I just want to please you. My perfect wife.” He’d say as he checked to make sure your hands were tied to the bedpost.

And before you could even process it, Jonathan was back at your cunt, using his fingers and tongue both to bring you to your climax. Over and over, his fingers would work into you, and He pepper kisses along your stretch marks. All you could do was lay there and take it. Unable to move or squeeze your legs shut from the stimulation. You felt your sanity slowly slip away. Only the sounds of your whimpers could be heard now. He had pulled another three more orgasms out of you after you had been tied up. This continued for another thirty minutes. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. You could feel Jonathan letting up as you slowly came down from the third.

But you knew this wasn’t the end. You watched in awe as your husband stripped the rest of his clothes, throwing them on the floor without care, before slowly crawling to you on all fours. He looked like some kind of sex God, coming to claim you as his. You watched as his dick slapped against his stomach a little as he got closer. You were speechless but so ready for him.

Slowly he brought his mouth to your neck once again. Moaning into your skin as he felt his dick press against your stomach.

“Oh, the things I’m going to do to you.” He chuckled after he mumbled those words into your skin.

You tried to reach out and touch him, but you were stopped instantly by the tie that bound you to the wooden frame. Jonathan took his time as he kissed all the way down to your womb before he spoke again.

“Are you going to let me fill you up?” He said with a kind face. It had you baffled. The way these deboutrous words were able to leave such a sweet mouth. You were jolted out of your thoughts when Jonathan pinched your clit, eyes begging for your attention. “I asked you a question, my love.”

“Yes, please.”

“Please, what?” he’d ask as if he didn’t know.

“Please fill me up.” He grinned at your words. and instead of answering, you felt him plunge into you. Causing the two of you to moan out in pleasure.

Jonathan stood on his knees, his right arm hooked around your leg, holding it above his waist, and his left hand placed right above your womb. You were so overwhelmed by his touch that his skin felt searing hot against yours, as if he were on fire.

As he began thrusting into you, Jonathan’s hand never left your lower stomach. He wanted to feel the bulge that would come and go as he plunged inside of you. And all you could do was moan and whine.

“Oh my God, Jonathan. Fuck.” You’d pant out, eyes rolling to the back of your head a little each time he hit that spot.

“Does that feel good? Am I making you feel good, my love?” He’d ask with furrowed eyebrows and a small hint of sweat now growing on his left brow.

“So good so so goo-” Your words were cut off when you let out a sudden and loud moan; caused by Jonathan pushing your legs to your chest. He was going deeper and harder than before, letting out loud, sultry moans that had you seeing heaven.

Everything was happening so fast that you didn’t even realize how close you were until you were gushing on his dick. You swear you could have seen the stars. And even though you have just climaxed, your husband kept plowing into you like a madman. The slapping sound of your colliding flesh filled your ears, along with the sound of Jonathan’s dick sliding in and out of your sopping cunt.

“So tight,m-love.” He’d slur and repeat with a hoarse voice. Your eyesight was now blurry, clouded by tears of overstimulation. It was too much to handle.

Soon you could hear another sound start to overpower that of the two of your moans. The bed shaking from the power of your husband's thrusts had become erratic. Jonathan was practically using your body as a personal cock sleeve, fucking you into oblivion.

Suddenly, Jonathan’s hands dropped your legs, causing them to fall onto the soft sheets below them. After he pulled out of you, Jonathan found himself flipping your body over onto your stomach. Making you let out a soft whimper, but before you could say anything, Jonathan raised your ass to his front.

He gave you a few teasing prods in and out of your whole, only allowing his tip to enter you. Before once again pushing into you. Letting out the most whore like moan a man could make.

“You feel so good, baby.” He says in your ear, before nipping at it a little.

The tie felt tighter now that it was twisted from your body being flipped. You knew that there would be a dent from where your hands were tied. You did your best to hold up the rest of your body, but you were so weak from your multiple orgasms Jonathan ended up doing most of the work, making sure to hold you in your place.

Not that he cared though; Jonathan loved doing the work to make you cum. It made him feel good to know he was making you feel good.

You could feel the way he stretched you out more and more each time he pushed back into you. The bed frame had switched out the sound of constant creaking to a much louder march harder sound as it began to hit the wall behind it with each thrust.

It felt like he was trying to break you in half. You knew Jonathan was stronger than the average human, but God, the way he laid into your cunt had you shuddering on his dick.

With each thrust, the tie became looser and looser until it was no longer wrapped around your wrists. Your constant tugging at the fabric from the rough thrusts had caused it to slowly come undone.

The constant clenching around Jonathan’s length had finally begun to take a toll on him. You could feel it with the sloppiness of his thrusts and the growing sounds of his grunts.

One of the hands that gripped your waist as he rocked into you was now working at your clit. You couldn’t even moan anymore; words and sounds that tried to leave your mouth fell silent at your lips.

“Cum with me again.” He’d whisper in your neck as he bent over you. His pace faltering a little bit. “Please?” He’d whimper.

But before you could let out a moan of “yes”, a dramatic snapping filled your ears, and you felt Jonathan’s thrusts stop. It wasn’t until Jonathan pulled out of you, laughing a little bit, did you realize you were laying at an angle now, your bodies, closer to the ground than usual.

He broke the bed.

The two of you had broken the bed.

Instead of stopping and collecting himself as a normal person would, Jonathan tugged on your body once more, carrying you and pushing you against a wall.

“Jonathan, the bed.” You moaned out, feeling him enter you again.

“I know love, it was weak.” he sighed, “It’s okay, we don’t need it.” And with that, he began moving into you again.

“Give me one more. Ok my love? You can do it for me right?” He panted out.

“That’s my good girl.” He’d say before losing himself in the pleasure.

You were officially cockdrunk as Jonathan finally came inside you. Ropes of thick, hot, creamy cum painted your walls. Your husband let out a series of moans. Holding you up at the wall as he calmed down.

He maneuvered your body to the floor delicately, kissing your cheeks and lips over and over with his now swollen lips.

You were tired beyond belief. You couldn’t even let out a sound of protest as he moved his face to your cunt, watching as his cum dripped out of you slowly before deciding to clean out all of the remaining cum... with his tongue. It felt so obscene watching him eat his cum out of you as if he was a starved man.

And once he had pulled away from you, satisfied with his job, he rolled your naked body onto his stomach, rocking you back and forth over his abs. The pressure you felt on your clit each time he moved over one of his abs had you gone. Your body was practically lifeless as he sat up, making you straddle him fully.

“You did such a good job for me my love. Such a good job.” He peppered kissed on your forehead as his hand cupped your head softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You whimpered back.

“We need a new bed.”

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