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satoruhour · 9 months

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🐇 hi t!!! i currently have this brainrot and i don't know who else but to share it and i thought HEYYYY what if i share this to one of my favorite satoru writers hdjfhdkdhdj don't mind me but omfg i've been listening to i know from travis scott's new album and i couldn't stop thinking about angsty(?) fucking with satoru, him cutting off the friends w benefits set up with you because he's scared of confronting his feelings with falling in love with you and he thinks he'll hurt you because he scared of the unfamiliarity of love to him,,,, but he's so into you, the way you momentarily stare into him after you pull away from a heated kiss, the way you wrap your fingers and hold his hands when you slowly grind on his cock, the way you look into his eyes with clouded lust when he's gripping your hips as he bullies his cock into you, the way you hold onto his wrists when he fucks his fingers and plays with your clit tenderly while he has your back on his pounding chest.........he just can't forget you and the chemistry so he pulls up at your residence, knocking at your door at 2 am intoxicated and high, and he's aware he isn't supposed to do this anymore but satoru always knows you'll be opening up the door for him and him only like his good girl with nothing under your velvet babydoll dress you'd always wear when he's around........he always finds a way to make you cry and begging in bed but this time it's different when it's you feigning hurt with the way he cut things off and left you, reminding him “you're just drunk right now,” or “it's just the drugs, satoru...” while he holds your leg onto his broad shoulders and his right hand rubbing your clit while he pumps his cock inside your warm pussy but he softly chuckles at your protests, his tongue licking your neck before he comes closer to your face, his thrusts slowing down as his eyes glances at your lips before settling his blue eyes on your low lidded eyes, telling you “i know baby, i know,” then kisses you momentarily just for him to bite your lower lip tenderly. he looks back at you, you practically have heart eyes all over, all dumbed down with the way he fucks you, a constant reminder that he has you wrapped around his fingers and he can't help but to bite his lip back,,,,,, he isn't yours, but he knows at the back of his mind that you're always his.

PROTECTED VULNERABILITY / STUBBORN HEART

a/n: anon ur MIND ! i need to tell u i had fwb gojo in my drafts 4 the longest time but i never continued. but also i cant tell if i like this or not, i hope i didnt disappoint u anon 😭 also i couldn’t handle the angst so i made reader also want gojo, but written not so obviously as him! cant put my baby thru all that and also ! i may have missed the angsty fucking part so it’s just gojo pining like an idiot

wc: 6.6k

warnings: fwb!gojo, gojo is crazy over u, dom!gojo but hints of whiny gojo, m! masturbation, oral (f and m receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, fingering, praise, pet names, reader and gojo are both high in the last scene, finger sucking, face-fucking, deepthroating, tongue-fucking, unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampie / breeding kink, multiple rounds, ambiguous ending, n*sfw under the cut

gojo never liked to feel vulnerable.

he understands it fully when he’s got you on top of him for the first time, staring down at him, unaware he’s one of the strongest people in his line of work. you’re unknowingly setting every part of him ablaze, caged in like your body’s a branding iron and he traces over the crescent marks and the lines you made later in the bathroom.

gojo doesn’t recover after that, pondering over this vulnerability which only you could make him feel — the lilt in your voice, the softness of your eyes — it felt almost like it was just for him. his delusions don’t escape him, and rather it only grows worse each time he meets you.

vulnerability was a state of exposure, like the way his skin singes under the sun or the unfamiliar feeling of infinity being turned off. it was like standing bare like venus in her birth, eyes forcefully turned onto her while on her scallop shell. it was like sitting on the steps of jujutsu high and getting a ridiculous question of why he didn’t chase after his best friend.

it was like turning his head to meet your sleeping form, calm and undisturbed in the late morning while he wishes you’d turn into a curse, bare your teeth at him and give him a reason to just flee. gojo felt so vulnerable he wanted to do anything but be here. he knows it all too well when it claws at his throat and makes his head spin. it takes the breath out of him and sends tremors through his fingertips. they’re just some of the uncomfortable feelings satoru braces himself for before he’s interrupted by your fingers unzipping his pants, and he loses himself to your skillful hands.

“baby— c’mon,” gojo laughs, tugging lightly on your hair that you moan, and you’re making quick work of his uniform, tugging it off and coming face to face with his bulge. it’s been plaguing him since the mission earlier, but with a quick call to you, you’re quick to show up in a t-shirt and pants, crashing his lips onto yours right at the door.

“okay, i’ll stop teasin’.” your sly smile told gojo everything he needed to know, a shaky breath leaving him when his cock finally leaves the confines of his underwear. his eyes can’t look away from the way your manicured nails wrap around his length as you’re circling your tongue around his tip. you pull him in with just your stare, collecting his pre-cum before you spit on his dick, taking him slowly.

satoru’s head falls back against his sofa, but it’s not for long when he knows you taking his cock down your throat is the hottest thing he’s witnessed. sure, he’s gotten blowjobs before, and he’s moaning as he is but gojo never quite feels the rush of adrenaline throughout his whole body, never the shortness of breath that catches in his lungs.

“love your cock in my mouth, gojo— mhm…” he’s hoping you can pick up on the fact that he does not want you to say that, because it makes everything harder for him, a high-pitched yelp leaving him when you start to suck on his balls, hand still pumping his shaft and you love the way gojo’s hips buck into the air, juices pooling in your panties.

everything feels just right when you bring his hands to your head and get almost all of him into your mouth, nose buried in his pubes and taking in the musky scent of his body — gojo lets out a drawn out whine when he lets himself loose and your eyes are rolling back further and further into your head as the hours pass. his hands are so large on you it drives you crazy as well as it does to the other when you’re twining your fingers with his while you sink down on him, when he squeezes your hand when he’s about to cum. your giggles are muffled by the kisses you share in the late night, unknowingly giving into your questions about him.

the next day is blurry as gojo finds himself handing his card over, in a haze since the previous night, the only thing standing crystal clear was the cutest babydoll dress hanging on a rack.

so the next time you meet, he’s passing you the gift with a whisper in your ear that he expects you to wear it every time he’s around and you have half a mind to smack him on the arm. i’m not like you! reusing outfits and stinking them up! gojo only laughs hard before your snarky remarks are swallowed by the sorcerer, soft moans and pants weaselling out from your lips while you let him use you in a changing room; he doesn’t tell you how your sounds make him dizzy.

in between you’re accepting his calls with a cheery voice, sticking through to your babydoll dress promises. a culmination of feelings building up until gojo truly feels like he can’t breathe — he manages each time which makes even him impressed with himself. but then you’re meeting his kiss halfway when he’s rubbing at your clit gently from below you, drawing out the most lewd sounds from you, the buzzing feeling of your body against him — it’s too much for gojo sometimes.

and the last, before gojo satoru is finally stripped down to his core and that recurring impulse to push people away starts bubbling up again, and yet he tries to find an excuse each time to even catch a glance at you. he knows despite his inability to admit it to himself.

he knows this like he knows many things — the ins and outs of his technique, what food megumi liked, your favourite fruit — but not even the sweetness of an Amaou could convince him of the very feelings he’s swallowed and buried under the very soil he wishes to grow strawberries from. at least he knows he’s fucked.

but the knowing halts when it comes to when? was it when you’re no longer rushing to leave his place after hookups? was it when he sees traces of you in his home? was it when he’s handing over his card to pay for a dress he wasn’t even sure was in your size?

your whisper of his name brings him back, and his bright eyes seem to lighten just a little; in it you can see the crash of the oceans and the scent of it. gojo smells like that — saltiness tinged with caramel and sweetness, scent lingering in and around you whenever you’re not with him. you’ve been making new discoveries about him ever since, even more so today when your heart pounds with the way his hands are on you, feeling a little foreign from how long he hasn’t contacted you.

“are you alright?” you mumble, hips halting at the stupor gojo seemed to be in, until he silently nods, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth and lifting you off of him. it confuses you a little before he settles you on his chest and you shiver at the vibration of his chest.

“spread your legs, baby,” you sigh when his hands trace over your thighs, the coldness of his hands against the warmth of your thighs feeling so good, even more so when he coos in your ear at just how wet you are, drawing languid circles around your clit. “so wet, hm?” you hum whilst turning your head to face him, eyes flitting straight down to his lips when he licks them.

“just f’r you, pretty boy,” your giggles are consumed by gojo’s eager lips, meeting yours halfway in a rough kiss as he starts to rub at your bundle of nerves. even your moans are swallowed, muffled by gojo’s own needy ones before your hands fly up to clutch at his.

“g-gojo! f— fuckkk…” at this point, you’ve completely succumbed to the man behind you, body limp to his ministrations; they’re relentless even when your hands hold his wrist captive.

“right there?” gojo chuckles into your ear, hot breath fanning across your ear. it trails into giggles when a drawn out yeahh… makes its way out of you, “my good lil girl.”

you preen at the praise you’ve heard multiple times before, but for some reason your heart only

jumps at gojo’s words no matter how you look at it. with his other hand, he’s positioning it at your entrance, slipping in his finger with a groan that reverberates through his toned chest. there’s moans and whines exchanged, the musky scent of sex flooding every corner.

before long, a second finger joins his first, eyes locked on the way your drooling cunt sucks him in easily while your juices coat his palm, a glistening, filthy sight as he sets a pace. gojo laughs again when your other wandering hand wraps around his wrist, too.

“s’too full,” you whimper, head thrown back across his shoulder, thinking your tightly clenched hands did any work, but if anything, it only spurs him on further. the abuse on your core is endless, feeling with a shiver down your back, the lazy circles on your cli and the spread of his hand widening to fit more of his fingers in you.

“you’ve taken my cock before, darlin’, you can do it.” satoru coats your shoulders and neck with kisses, that lone sentence making it clear to him he wants you more than just this one time. he wants this over and over until you’re crying and the sheets are soaked, until he’s made so many cups of morning coffee for you that he can’t count them on one hand. there’s a brief falter in his movements when he realises this, an uncomfortable stifled gulp until you’re whining into his ears, hands beckoning him to continue and he brushes it away like he always does.

you’re cumming easily with the arch of your back, but gojo is still in a daze about your life together. maybe you’d gift him a box of kikufuku when he’s back from trips, maybe you’d patch him up after a difficult mission even if you didn’t know what his job entailed. there was too many maybe’s, something gojo wasn’t willing to bet on. for now, he’d focus on the way—

—the way moans lingered on your lips when you came as your body reacted so well to his fingers, clutching on his lanky frame while he pumped you full. he watches when your eyes roll back and your neck reveals itself and he laughs into it, telling you how he’s the only one to make you feel this good and you’re nodding frantically.

gojo’s heart warms at that while his throat dries and it’s like he loses confidence and he feels like a virgin all over again — so blessed to have you under him while he’s suddenly hyper aware of how your cunt feels around him. it’s divine, you’re divine; he stifles a small confession and masks it with a cry. a cry that was of pure desire which couldn’t be expressed, and he blinks away the tears before they could come because you feel too damn good; and if he looks at you one second more he would confess everything.

“you okay?” gojo brushes the sweaty hairs that stick to your forehead, getting a blissful smile from you afterwards while you merely pull him down for a kiss and satoru feels bile creep up in his throat at the tenderness which you connect your lips to him. you’re leading the kiss so slowly and sweetly he wonders if you ever prefer his lips over your Amaou strawberries.

“’m okay, gojo.” the last name is reminiscent of the stagnant distance between you, “are you?”

satoru sniffles just a bit and nods, “y-yeah. let me go get a rag, ’kay?”

you don’t answer after because of your fatigue, merely letting him slip away from your fingers while you calm your heartbeat, rather settling for his scent on the bedsheets and you ignore the redness of his eyes, letting him take care of you as the night falls into an uncharacteristic quiet.

words are difficult in this arrangement after the rules have been set. we’re here to fuck, not to solve each other’s problems, and you’re giving him a curt nod and a sultry smile before you taste gojo satoru for the first time. it has been like that since then, although gojo has been more silent than usual, but words—

words are difficult, and so you leave it be with a deep sigh and a dreamless slumber, not aware of the other.

it’s when the rush of water hits the pail, gojo realises he can’t carry on much longer, of the pull you have on him, on the chemistry, the words dying on his lips when he sees you already passed out. with a gentle hand he glides the rag over you, careful not to wake you, and it’s getting difficult separating love from lust when he’s wiping you down so gently like this.

gojo is gone when you awaken, his side of the bed cold that signals to you he’s been gone for a few hours now, and you’re hoping to get a greeting of him posing beside mochi, or a trinket from a neighbouring district. his work made him travel a lot, you heard, but the specifics are a hushed topic — he wasn’t yours to know intimately anyway.

you’re halfway changing into a babydoll dress he got you, the material sleek and comfortable enough to be worn at home, glancing at the phone with one arm in the arm hole. you frown.

[11:12, gojo satoru]: hey. i think we should stop this thing we have goin on

gojo’s fingers regret the very moment he’s sent it, because you do nothing but type and stop and linger online. he makes it worse with a second message, and multiple more.

[11:14, gojo satoru]: i have uh… a work thing that might interfere with this.

i’m sorry y/n, you were.. great. i loved every second i spent…|

he let his feelings run and accidentally clicks ‘send’ and panics, unsending it almost instantly. he has to catch a breath before he types it out again.

[11:15, gojo satoru]: i’m sorry (y/n), you were.. great. thank you for the arrangement fr

had a lot of fun while it lasted, also sorry i used all ur face wash hehehe ~

gojo groans into his hands at the way he easily reverts back to his playful disposition, a coping mechanism he’s picked up since high school and he hates how he already misses how he was with you.

“what the fuck are you moaning about now?” shoko asks, obviously irritatedly as she dissects another transfigured human, and her private time on studying the oddness of the disfigured curse is undoubtedly ruined by her friend’s incessant groaning.

the sorcerer is spread out on one of the seats in the morgue, “nothin’.”

“is it that friends with benefits thing you have going on?” he rolls his eyes behind the blindfold. years of dissecting people probably granted shoko with the ability to see through people, both literally and figuratively. gojo simply waves a hand and takes his leave, phone already on do not disturb to avoid seeing your reply. that’s the first time shoko catches onto his inner turmoil, the tear between wanting to protect his heart and the desperation to let someone in.

[11:20, delivered]: oh

but you know when it’s started for him. you think it was the moment you’d seen the change in gojo’s eyes. there wasn’t just carnal need for you, not just lust. amongst little specks of darkened azure you can see the softer hues of baby and lapis; but what do you know, right?

those same eyes stare back at you in the profile picture he set after a drunken night together. you reply with the only thing you can manage as you try to convince yourself it’s what you want.

[11:21, delivered]: oh okay

you feel like a schoolgirl throwing a tantrum again, the pounding in your heart reaching your ears like a droning drum and you feel like you cannot breathe. your pillows are the victim of your unfiltered scream, paired with multiple profanities until you’re left with no more fire in you. gojo satoru had taken all of the heat with him.

that was friday; on sunday there’s a notification at the end of the week that tells you your screen time went up by 9%.

nanami and shoko were never one to reject a drinking night on a monday, sharing an unsaid (and reluctant) conclusion that maybe they should bring gojo along even if he’s only going to be sipping on apple cider. but while usually gojo is boasting about his terrible alcohol tolerance, tonight he’s buried in an arm he wishes was your neck, the burn of the whiskey nanami begged him not to drink reminding him of your touch.

“thousand yen and a new dissection set for when gojo goes back to his friend with benefits within one week.”

“ah, when, not if? you seem pretty confident,” nanami comments from across the table in the fairly busy bar, leaning back with an unreadable expression upon his face.

shoko only shrugs, “something tells me he’s definitely moping in his—”

“can we please stop talking about me like i’m not in the middle?” his words are muffled by the dark blue uniform he dons, white hair looking strangely duller as he tries to get some shuteye in a damn bar; foolish enough to lose sleep over you that he’s been messing up on missions. even nanami was surprised to be assigned to harder missions upon learning about gojo’s mishaps.

his grumbles fall on deaf ears, the clink of their glasses only highlighting satoru’s torment, the mediocre performance of the band on stage only adding to the headache that was forming — and it’s not long before gojo loses all senses. he has to be lugged out of the bar by nanami as shoko just grins, still as fresh as she arrived as she shouts a good luck! and the stoic sorcerer is left to deal with his senior. by now, gojo has already talked his ear off while he decides what to do with the lanky man, a call to ijichi halted when the strongest sorcerer starts to mumble out incoherent words.

“she’sss… she’s so beautiful i— i don’t… nanaminnn i don’t know what to fuckin’ do,” gojo mumbles into the lapels of the other’s suit. “i feel like i might— i wanna die whenever i’m with her because…”

gojo sniffles. he’s driven to tears easily, the liquor in him intensifying anything and everything. his last confessions are slurred, albeit softly. “i can’t breathe around her.”

there’s a tense silence that circles them for a few minutes, nanami considering his next words carefully even with the soft whispers of your name leaving his lips, and then, there’s also the awkward hard-on nanami can feel on his thigh and he’s trying so hard not to wince — at least gojo’s pants were darker in colour. he can only muster sighs when people on the sidewalk give him looks.

“gojo. i’m not a stranger to your… tendencies,” nanami’s voice cuts through harshly, thinking that his senior may be napping, but he’s surprised to hear a hum leaving his throat, “but you’ve been lacking. in missions, in teaching. it’s never this bad.”

monday. it’s monday and it’s been three days since he broke it off. all it takes is some whiskey and nanami kento to break you down, but he doesn’t say anything after, standing in silence with him until the alcohol wears off just a little more and the sorcerer’s able to gather his cursed energy to teleport. but all gojo can sense in his home are the residuals of your cursed energy. it stings his nose like an odour, something he should be repulsed by, like the pungent smell of copper after visiting shoko or the strong tang of the fermented tofu you’ve tried making for him.

weirdly it only makes the ache in his pants worse when the cursed energy fills his head and messes with his; it reminds him of when you’d be too impatient to make it to the bedroom, letting gojo take you on the couch, to the ride of his shirt up your hips when you first wake up. plopping onto the sofa, he almost succumbs to sleep, alcohol breath and all, but manages to flip himself over, fingers stumbling over his zipper.

your name is the first thing that leaves his mouth as he palms his bulge, soft grunts sounded out in the quietness of his house. his head digs far into the couch as he focuses on you atop him working your magic, grinding onto his front like a tease with your hands on his chest. he removes his underwear with a sigh, hand immediately starting to stroke himself.

“oh— shit, y-yeah,” satoru has no restraint, no decorum, whines filling the room while the slick noises of his fist increase in volume. he thinks of every bit of your body moving against him, water against rock, icarus against the sun.

gojo squeezes his shaft and remembers all the times you’ve wrapped your own hand around him, nails newly done and paid from his pocket as the baby blues move up and down his dick. he rubs a thumb around his tip, and the way his tip leaks pre-cum is almost sinful.

“baby, oh fuckk—” his head pounds from the bright light and the alcohol, and the way his eyes are scrunched tight. “you feel so fuckin’ good.”

satoru’s hips are lifting off his sofa, humping into thin air while his hands speed up, and he’s close, getting some notification from nanami which draws his attention to the wallpaper he set of you: sheets dangerously low on your chest, eyes resting from the long night. it makes him sob out your name because you don’t know what you do to him, until.

until gojo reaches an unsatisfying peak, a cry on his lips and spurts of his cum staining his hand, but it feels nothing like you. the liquid’s spread across his hand like hot water, the guilt burning his body before he chucks his phone to the side and prays to any god that they would have mercy on him.

a gasp is heard. your figure shows itself through the babydoll dress, looking stunning as always with your doe eyes. he knew you’d always open the door.

“gojo.”

alcohol is prevalent on the man standing across from you, and you’re partially surprised to see him in front of you after just one week calling your whole arrangement off — somewhere, someone you don’t know is gifting another unknown person a new dissection set with a mere ¥1000 bill on it. something tugs at your heart at his flushed face and messy hair, maybe it was your feelings, maybe it was the wine you drank before this. you also take note of the unbuttoned dress shirt he’s got on, the wrinkles and dishevelled state of it driving you a little insane.

“baby…” gojo smiles like it was a late night drinking with the boys and it was you welcoming him home, but it’s different when you’ve fucked and received kisses like he loves you, all while he’s standing at the corridor of your apartment building. you’re hoping he’s only a figment of your imagination, because you’ve banished him from your mind since last week. oh well, you tried anyways.

“what. do you want?” there’s a slight buzz from the wine you drank, amplified when he slowly makes his way into the familiar space.

“you—” the other hiccups, and he has to keep a hand on the doorframe from collapsing. if he’s strong enough to do that, you think he’s probably one drink in, bordering on the line of being high and slowly descending into drunkenness. in his hand there’s a bottle of apple cider to quell the alcohol; you stifle a smile.

“i’m not the one who called it off.” you hold your ground, not even noticing the attachment you have with the velvet on your body, feeling satoru’s fingers play with the soft fabric of its hem.

“and yet you— you wear this dress like it’s your underwear, always opening the door f’r me a-and… fuck,” it comes out softly upon feeling up your thighs and settling on your ass cheeks, void of any panties. he gives it a good squeeze and a small whimper leaves you, forced to cosy up to his chest when you stumble forward.

“you’re just drunk right now, gojo, sayin’ shit like that…” you trail off, finding any excuse to not open up the scab on your heart again, pushing at his chest like you didn’t want to taste the rum on him, like you didn’t want his body on yours and taint him with sauvignon.

gojo proves you wrong over and over again at how he’s got your dress flipped up later, neck bent up to accommodate his tall stature while you’re supporting yourself on the flimsy shoe rack as he pulls your body flush against him and toes off his shoes — he’s skilled at multitasking like that.

“need to be inside you, baby,” he groans, fingers fumbling with the dress he bought and he almost cums just from feeling up your body, “but first.”

you’re swept off the floor and your hands are quick to wrap around his neck, following the route to your bedroom like he’s done many times before. this time, there’s a different kind of thrill, looking down at your hazy eyes as you’re both intoxicated on liquor. it’s different from the time he took the current picture of his contact in your phone (you hadn’t deleted his number), it’s different from every other day.

“gojo…” is all you can muster when he plops you down a little roughly on the bed, and you have the privilege of seeing him strip out of the button down shirt, forearms flexing against the shirt as he reveals his toned body bit by bit. you can’t help but refuse to lose, legs spreading just a little to show him all the wetness you’ve gotten just from kissing him.

“angel,” he looks a little starstruck by the sheen of your pussy, swallowing until he’s finally out of his shirt, “you look fuckin’ beautiful.”

your small smile tells him you already know that (“pretty girl, takin’ me so well like this.” a whisper into your ear in that changing room) like you know how you’re probably the only one to get him like this: panting, mouth parted, cock aching to be in you — you’re just better at hiding your own.

wordlessly, you swipe two fingers along your folds, collecting your slick before they come to rest upon his lips, taking it into his mouth willingly. they swirl around your digits and he hums at the taste, divine as always, teeth scraping your skin when you easily unbuckle his pants and peel the underwear off of him.

“can i call you satoru?”

you don’t even have to fucking ask, he wishes to say but all he answers with is a shaky “yes”, and he never wants anything to do with the gojo clan any more. if you asked him to quit being a sorcerer, he would, because all he wants to be associated with is satoru and the cadence of it falling from your lips.

even one week was too much for you, so you’re quick to get to your knees, going straight to putting his fat cock in your mouth. the moan gojo lets out is straight pornographic, and he’s missed this as much as you did, knowing nothing could compare to his hand when your mouth was second to your cunt. lovingly, his hand caresses one side of your cheek, filled to the brim with his length.

“so fuckin’ warm, holy fuck—” bobbing your head, you keep a steady hand on his thighs, because with one look to him, he’s whimpering out, hands loosely tangling in your hair. you moan as his hips start to buck into your mouth, and with a small nod from you, the hands on your head tightens before he starts to thrust into your cavern, bringing you down to his pelvis ever so slightly.

there’s guttural sounds coming from the back of your throat as you deepthroat him, eyes brimming with tears before he lets up. his thrusts don’t stop, though, and he fucks your mouth like an animal, lewd noises flooding the room as drool falls from your mouth. you’re moaning as you play with yourself, the vibrations causing the other’s hips to stutter.

“g’nna c—” it’s a shame how fast gojo cums, but it’s only fair because of the way your mouth feels on him, tongue flexing against the underside of his shaft every time his cock disappears into you and he’s shooting hot liquid down your throat after, unloading into your throat as you swallow easily. you’re used to the bitter taste by now.

“s’big,” you giggle, naturally taking over as your hands squeeze out the last bits of cum from his cock, and the way it drips onto your tongue is orgasmic, “love your cock s’much, satoru.”

gojo brings you up by your arms, and he has to taste himself on you first before he’s fully taking off his pants, smiling just a bit when your legs spread again and your pussy is practically begging for him. “enough of me, let’s focus on you.”

you raise an eyebrow while he’s inches away from your cunt, ignoring the rasp of his voice like it hadn’t made you shiver, “me?”

“yeah, you, my pretty lil thing.” you hardly digest what he says before his mouth engulfs your core, and you let out a deafening moan, hands closing around your bed sheets as he starts to suck on your clit. his tongue is ruthless, flicking at your nub and wrapping both arms around your thighs, tugging you into his face like he wasn’t close enough already.

“oh g-god— satoruuu…” his name falls from your lips countless times and gojo’s eyes can’t help but shift to your face at the pretty sounds that come from you, zoned in on eating you out until his chin is wet with your slick.

“look at me, princess,” gojo is taken aback from the blissed out expression on your face, but it doesn’t falter him, a resolve settling in his bones, “thaaat’s it, baby.” and you struggle to hold his stare when those familiar blues comes flooding back into his irises while his tongue doesn’t stop any of its movements, knowing your ins and outs. you can feel the fabric below you starting to soak, pussy dripping endlessly.

he gives you one last lasting look before he moves down to your entrance, tongue slipping inside while his nose nudges your clit and your hands fly to his hair. gojo hums into your cunt, affirmations of good girl mixed in with moans that send chills up your body.

“close, aren’t ya?” you roll your eyes at how he’s so confident now, sobriety coming to light a bit and rum leaving his system the moment he’s got your pussy in between his lips, but he’s not wrong because you can feel the coil in your stomach twisting and turning, hearing him groan out when he uses a free hand to stroke himself.

his tongue returns to your clit and gojo sucks hard until you’re pulling on his stark white hair, screaming out his name and profanities as you cum, leaking so much juices that it’s made a dark red spot on the inside of your dress. he laughs softly into your core before he’s back to slurping all of it up again and your legs close involuntarily; all he does is tut and spreads them again and he’s on a mission to make up to his mistake of ever thinking of leaving you.

your body is limp by your third orgasm, grasping at satoru to feel him and he takes your hand to plant kisses on them, and to tell you to wait. but that almost proves difficult for you when he’s got you all spread out like this and the quiet, dazed gojo is gone momentarily because he finally knows what he wants.

even if he had to fuck you silly and plant strawberries himself and make more coffees and open up old wounds again, gojo is going to do it all, because the call of his name is sounding more and more like heaven each time and he’s tired of burning at the side when he’s willing to fight fire with fire.

“satoru,” you whine out when gojo places your legs on his shoulder, and it gets him so much deeper in you, buried to the hilt. by now, you’re getting bent into half as he eases his cock into you with a groan, your soaking core laced with juices acting as lube.

“what is it, sweetness?” he asks breathlessly, pressing a soft kiss to your ankle and you’re mewling out again. god, he wanted you like this every minute of the day.

“f-feels s’good,” you moan out, fingers wrapped around his forearms as they grip onto your waist.

the other leans forward and you clench up at how your body folds even more, eyes hooded and soft pants leaving your lips.

“i know, baby, i know,” the glimpse to your lips is brief but you catch it as he coos, and you close the gap as satoru starts his pace, sinking into your warm pussy like it’s a drug. your lips intoxicate him more than rum ever will, slipping his tongue in you and he can’t help but nibble on your bottom lip, a grunt of how tight you are whispered against you.

as gojo continues to rut into you, your lips are continually captured by the other’s, small, sweet kisses leaving your heart beating as his eyes bore into yours before his hand reaches down to rub at your clit, sending sparks throughout your body.

the room is filled with the scent of sex paired with the squelching noises of your cunt, sucking him in so well that his hips falter and he loses his speed whilst admiring you; the you whose pupils look like they’ve morphed into hearts and your jaw remains slack from how good he rails into you.

a man whose feelings weren’t this strong wouldn’t fuck into you like this, wouldn’t make you cum thrice like you’re his baby and then fuck you nice after. a man like that won’t get up fifteen minutes earlier to boil water or swap out an old tube of face wash when it runs out.

but are you even ready? even with the undeniable pull satoru has on you, you cannot get the feeling of being thrown aside when you’ve done your part out of your chest, the weight crushing you worse than his body weight in the morning.

“s’toru! s-shit,” you whimper, legs tightening around his shoulder as your hands scramble to grab his hair, feeling already so fatigued and yet, you’re dizzy on the way gojo satoru makes you feel. satoru is no different, an immovable haze settling over his eyes when he stares and he’s so caught up in everything — your eyes, your hips, your hair splayed out below him that he’s blurting out the first thing in his mind. “i love y— this fuckin’ pussy, fuck.”

his heart is pounding, and he stops abruptly at the stifled slip-up, mouth dry when you shoot him a confused look and a small satoru? you okay?

“y— yeah.”

i couldn’t do it.

gojo gulps and he feels tears well up in his eyes. it’s weird, for all his confidence at the start begins to dwindle at such simple words that he can’t mutter out and he shakes his head, burying himself into the crook of your neck and you’re brought back into bliss when he continues, taking note of the slight turmoil he’s going through.

gojo feels like he cannot breathe when you pull him from your neck, albeit with difficulty; both your eyes flutter close as his forehead collides with yours, and he just savours this moment with (hopefully) no judgement from you. he breathes in your scent, takes in your moans in his ears as his pace slows and he angles his hips and his eyes open to meet yours again right as you both cum, pumping you full with mingling moans as you gush all over his cock.

and just like the first night, you’re drawing him in with everything — he falls harder when he sees you reluctantly ignore the tears in his eyes, knowing he didn’t want to talk about it, knowing you’d be asking about it later. with your gentle voice, your fiery touch.

gojo never liked to feel vulnerable, but at thirty he thinks it’s time for a change when you first embroiled him in this complicated arrangement of quiet, yet tumultuous feelings. he can feel the three words weigh his lips down when you’re brushing away the tears later with a sad smile, scooting yourself closer to the chest that’s doing a bad job of hiding his heartbeat.

“what’s gotten my satoru cryin’, hm?”

gojo sniffles at my, holding onto one of your hands, and he says nothing but only succumbs to your arms when you tuck him under your chin, feeling safe in your chest as you both fall into routine. silence befalls the night, a certain dread taking over him that you’d be gone by morning as his breaths even out.

but when birds sing in the morning, his heart sings louder at the sight of you reading a book beside him in an old shirt he was convinced was lost, the faint smell of toast waiting for you outside. he’s tucked into your side and his arms have naturally wrapped around your body, your own playing gently with his hair and gojo thinks not all is bad when you read between the lines of his feelings. because as much as he knew you, you knew him and his habits, his quirks, too, and there’s an unsaid rule about how—

satoru never liked to feel vulnerable.

vulnerability was a state of exposure, like the way he accidentally burns himself while cooking pancakes or feeling the heat of the coffee radiate off your cup. it was like standing bare in your shower, eyes locked onto yours while he cleans you up. it was like letting his heart be stripped away by you who peels away the layers like you do to his underwear and the hard-boiled egg on the stove and the orange in the grocery bag.

it was like loving you, even if it tears at his technique and mocks the very powers he’s perfected to be untouchable, but you’re able to permeate his barriers and neutralise his infinity with something as simple as a kiss to his forehead.

that, gojo satoru may never be able to understand, but like himself, he doesn’t need to know every single thing.

all he knows is that with the way you capture his heart, he knows freedom from your embrace is something unattainable, but he wouldn’t have it any other way — that in itself is enough for his stubborn heart.

#🐇 anon #asks #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk headcanons #jjk smut #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen gojo #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader

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janaispunk · 7 months

Text

only bought this dress so you could take it off

series masterlist • this is part I

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

a/n: I was on my summer vacation last week, and I’m suffering from severe Dave York brainrot lately, which inspired a vivid daydream of Dave taking me on a little trip and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I was planning to keep it a oneshot, but there are so many more ideas for this floating around in my head, so a part 2 miiight be happening. Please read the warnings, this one’s nasty! (it’s the murder daddy energy)

word count: ~10.4k (this was supposed to be a nice little pwp, idk what happened) (Dave was holding me at gun-point)

summary: You have been sleeping with Dave York for a few months, keeping things casual, when he suggests to go on vacation together. You’re not sure what to expect, but you agree, and Dave takes very good care of you.

warnings: bits of angst, dubious morality (Dave is cheating on his wife), kinda unhealthy relationship dynamics, age-gap implied, alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, Dave pulls her hair, dom!Dave, sub!reader, rough sex, semi-public touching, sir kink, degradation kink, rough oral sex (m receiving), unprotected piv (reader is on bc in my head, but it’s not mentioned in the fic), dirty talk, Dave is a menace, spanking, choking, edging, spit kink, restraints, idiots in love, let me know if I missed any!

this is explicit 18+ content, minors do not interact pleaseeeee

Your phone starts buzzing on your work desk around 8 AM. You just got into the office and are starring at your monitor blankly, nursing a to-go cup of too expensive coffee and questioning your life choices. A regular Tuesday really.

You groan and flick your eyes down to your phone, your mind way too exhausted to deal with whoever is trying to contact you right now. You read the name on the screen and do a double take, your tiredness immediately forgotten. You hastily grab the device and press the green button to accept the call.

“Hey,” you say, trying your best not to sound just as eager as you suddenly feel. He doesn’t need to know the effect a simple call from him has on you.

“Good morning, sweetheart. What took you so long to answer, huh?” his voice sounds in your ear, calm and composed as always, but with a hint of teasing. You bite your lip, thankful that he can’t see how just hearing him speak has a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“S-sorry, just work and everything, you know?”

You can’t help the little sigh that you let out -work really has been a nightmare lately- and he chuckles sympathetically.

“You poor thing. Speaking of work, I actually have a favor to ask you.”

He knows fully well that he doesn’t need to ask you favors - you’d give him everything he wants, without question. His usual demanding tone is lacing his words and you involuntary clench your thighs together. God, you’re down so bad for this man.

This, as you need to keep reminding yourself, married man, who lives the perfect suburban life with his wife and their two kids. He’s not in love with you, you’re well aware of that, and you’re trying your hardest not to fall in love with him either.

You don’t know what exactly is going on between him and his wife and you don’t pry. He’s told you that things between them aren’t working out anymore and that they’ve agreed to stay together and play happy family until their girls are older. You’re not dumb, you know that this is the kind of story that every cheating man tells the other woman. And you’d probably call him out on his bullshit, if he were any other man. Hell, you wouldn’t have gotten involved with any other married man in the first place.

But Dave isn’t just any man and he’s got you wrapped around his finger ever since you met in a hotel bar a few months ago. You had just been stood up at said bar and Dave had been on a business trip, spending the night there. He came up to you, looking more handsome than any man should have the right to, bought you a drink and had you following him up to his room in the blink of an eye, which led to sex that was easily the best you had ever had.

Now, Dave calls you regularly, mostly when he’s close enough to meet up, but also some nights when he whispers filthy things into your ear until you come on your own fingers because he is too far away to put his hands on you.

You like to think that he cares about you, that you’re not just the willing means to an end and that you can actually give him something that he can’t get anywhere else. Something soft, a person that cares for him and gives him the chance to be soft as well. Because they exist, those moments of softness, in between tangled sheets and laughs shared in the darkness of your room, his fingers mindlessly dancing over your body when he thinks you’re already asleep and his lips pressed against yours a little too urgently when he’s saying goodbye to you.

But most of the time, Dave doesn’t like to care. He also doesn’t like to be soft. He’s ruthless, his edges sharp like a knife and he likes coming at you hard. He doesn’t tell you exactly what he does for a living, but you suspect that it’s dangerous and violent. He needs an outlet, somewhere he can let his aggressions run free, someone he can control.

This, you can definitely give him. You let him take it out on you when things get too much, you give up all control to him, and you love it. And he knows that you do. Sometimes you wonder if that’s the only reason he’s keeping you around, but you can’t bring yourself to believe it.

So, when your phone lights up with his name, you answer, trying to conceal your desperation to hear his voice, the hold he has on you, even if you’re fighting a losing battle. And when he’s asking for a favor, you hum questioningly, even though you already know that your answer will be “yes”.

“Take the next week off, and pack a bag. I’m having a few free days, so we’re going away for a bit, I’m picking you up on Saturday.”

He’s basically giving you an order, not stopping to ask if you’ve already got plans, if this might be a bad time, anything. Do this, be there, stat. Because he knows that you will do as he says and you know it, too.

Excitement bubbles up in you, the prospect of spending a whole week with Dave, something of a vacation, from what it sounds like, is more than you had ever allowed yourself to even daydream about. This is not what your relationship is about, it’s not what you do. Except that… apparently it is?

“I- okay, yes. That- that sounds great, Dave.” Your delight at his proposal is clear in your voice. “Where are we going? What do I need to pack? Do I need to prepare anything?”

He chuckles again and you can picture him shaking his head.

“No doll, don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Just bring your passport and pack for warm weather. And, sweetheart?” His voice drops an octave and he’s basically purring in your ear. “The sluttier, the better.”

He hangs up without waiting for your answer. You’re left to spend the rest of your workday in a daze, your panties soaked and your head busy with already cataloguing your entire closet and which things you’ll pack.

The days pass you by in weird chunks of time. On one hand, you can’t wait for Saturday, while on the other hand, you feel terribly unprepared, causing anxiety to creep up on you several times throughout the week. Every vacation you’ve ever been on has been meticulously organized and planned out by yourself and the lack of knowledge that you’re dealing with right now is entirely foreign to you.

What if you need a certain vaccine for wherever you’re going and you don’t have it? What if the flight has an early check-in that you need to take care of? Has Dave booked a hotel? How are the reviews? What do you need to prepare for?

The nervous urge to be ready for every kind of situation that you can’t satisfy right now is threatening to drive you crazy and you need to remind yourself more than once that this is Dave that you’re dealing with. Not one of your ex-boyfriends that would’ve come up with some half-assed plan that lacked in several vital points and required you to take care of things yourself eventually.

Dave is even more thorough than you, he doesn’t leave anything up to chance and he doesn’t forget things. You’re still reeling from the mere fact that he’s planning to take you away for a whole week. You’ve never spent that much uninterrupted time together and you honestly hadn’t thought that he would want to. This is couple stuff. And you’re not a couple. You’re just someone he sleeps with occasionally. You need to remember at least that.

You have texted him a few times, trying to get more information about the trip, but he hasn’t budged. You only manage to find out that he’ll come pick you up Saturday morning and that you’ll be gone for a whole week. And that you should pack a lot of bikinis.

“You make sure you’ll look good for me, and I’ll take care of the rest,” his text read. Followed up by a stern, “Stop worrying.”

You try taking his words to heart and get prepared in the one way you can: Buying lots of skimpy dresses and bikinis. You vividly picture him taking them off of you and it works. You do stop worrying.

Saturday finally rolls around and you’re ready, suitcase fully packed and dressed in a skirt so short that it will probably have you freezing your ass off on the airplane, but you can hardly bring yourself to care.

His taxi finally pulls up to your apartment building and he jumps out to meet you while the driver loads in your suitcase. You can’t help the giddy smile that’s on your face when Dave’s arms envelop you and your lips are on his before he even gets a greeting out. He chuckles as he kisses you softly, one of his hands cupping the back of your head, before he pulls away slightly to look at you. You’re breathless; the sight of him in his crisp shirt, the top two buttons undone to show off a sliver of his broad chest, his sharp jawline and those brown eyes trained firmly on you already enough to drive you a little crazy with need for him.

“Miss me that much, huh?” he murmurs against your lips, one hand still in your hair while the other one trails down to the hem of your skirt and skims the backside of your thighs before he gives your ass a rough squeeze. You nod quickly as a breath leaves you, not quite a moan but enough to clearly show him the effect his touch immediately has on you.

“Desperate little thing,” he grins and adds a playful slap to your backside before pecking your lips again and leading you towards the waiting car.

He slips in beside you, his hand immediately finding your thigh again and gently rubbing against the bare skin, creeping below your skirt’s hem again and again as you take off in the direction of the airport.

You’re falling into your familiar routine with him, the first effects of seeing him and the flare of your chemistry with each other calming down a little and allowing you to actually talk with him like a normal person, not a lovesick teenager. You’re filling each other in on the few weeks since you last saw each other, the little occurrences that you wanted to tell him about but didn’t have the opportunity to at the time. He’s not much of a texter and you understand that; he’s busy with his job and his family whose existence you still need to keep reminding yourself of.

His large hand doesn’t leave your thigh once throughout the drive, keeping a hold on you that feels especially possessive whenever his grip tightens. At the airport he grabs both of your suitcases and purposefully strides off, leaving you to walk beside him with nothing but your little purse. It’s not a grand gesture by any means, but still, no one has ever taken care of things for you like this and your want for him is bubbling inside of you.

He drops your baggage off at check-in and hands you your boarding pass. You can’t help the squeal that you let out when your eyes find the destination and you excitedly throw your arms around him.

“Are you serious? How did you know that I always wanted- But Dave, that’s SO much, I can’t have you pay for all this, I-“

He shushes you gently, though you can tell that he’s clearly pleased with how happy you are about where you’re going. He presses a kiss to the crown of your hand and rubs his hands over your shoulders.

“Of course you can. I wanted to do something nice for you, sweetheart, you’ve been so stressed out lately. And I-,” he trails off, looking almost a little bashful, “I wanted to spend my time off with you, without interruptions, you know.”

You think that he wants to add more, but he doesn’t, his expression slightly regretful like he accidentally said too much already. He barely verbalizes his feelings and you don’t push it.

“Thank you Dave, it’s- thank you. I really appreciate it.”

You lean up on your tiptoes and kiss him softly, trying to convey what you feel but can’t put into words. How you’re not even there yet and it’s already more than anyone has ever done for you. How ‘I wanted to spend my time off with you’ has butterflies erupting in your stomach, no matter how hard you try to suppress them. How it has you wondering if maybe, just maybe, you might be more for him than just the girl that he’s fucking on the side because his marriage is shitty. How much you wish that you were.

But you don’t have time to ponder all this because he possessively wraps an arm around your shoulder and leads you off towards security control, then to the gate where he gets you your favorite Starbucks without even asking for your order, and onto the plane, where he lets you have the window seat and his hand finds its way back onto your thigh.

You brought a book to read on the flight but you can’t make it through one page without losing your focus. Dave’s hand keeps climbing higher and higher, alternating between gripping your inner thigh tightly and drawing featherlight circles on the soft skin, and the heat that had been smoldering within you since you first laid eyes on him today is slowly but steadily becoming too much to bear.

Dave seems annoyingly unaffected, his face as composed as ever as he asks questions about your book, and you know that he notices the way you’re squirming in your seat, and how much he’s enjoying the fact that he’s the one to make you act like this.

You’re in the middle of a sentence when his fingers suddenly move all the way up your thigh and brush lightly against the fabric of your underwear. It’s a barely-there touch, but you’re so wound up that it’s enough to cause you to interrupt yourself with a loud gasp. He retracts his hand the tiniest bit, still hovering between your thighs, and tuts at you.

There’s a dark glint in his eyes that hasn’t been there moments before. You know this look and it takes everything in you to not clench your thighs together in anticipation of what’s to come. He raises an eyebrow, the condescension written clear on his face and his voice a low rumble, quiet enough for only you to hear.

“Shhh, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want everyone on here to know how much of a slut you are for me, now would we? Huh?”

He pinches the soft flesh on your inner thigh roughly when you don’t answer fast enough and you bite your lip, suppressing the whine that is threatening to come out of you.

“N-no…” you whisper and Dave arches his eyebrow even higher, looking at you expectantly. You gulp.

“No, sir.”

A small smile plays around his lips and he places a kiss on your cheek. “Good girl,” he mutters and his hand creeps up again until he’s rubbing against your panties, which you know are absolutely soaked by now. Your hips chase his touch and he chuckles darkly as he withdraws his fingers, completely this time, until he’s holding them up to your face. You can tell that the fingertips are shiny with the arousal that leaked through the fabric and you feel yourself blushing.

“Lick it off,” he demands, and your eyes widen. “H-here?” you dare to ask. His gaze hardens.

“You wanna talk back to me?” His voice is calm, but you can sense the tension that’s rolling off of him. You should be disgusted, both by his request and the way that he’s talking to you, but you’re not. This is how you want him, how you crave him.

You shake your head hastily, acutely aware that questioning him was probably enough to get you into serious trouble later on. The thought sends another wave of desperate arousal through you.

“Then lick. It. Off. I’m not gonna tell you again.”

His tone is clipped, his face a hard mask, but your eyes flick down momentarily and the growing bulge in his pants tells you that he’s not as unaffected by the situation as he wants you to believe. You train your eyes back to his face and hold his gaze as you lean forward and obediently clean his fingers with tiny kitten licks. His jaw tenses as he finally draws his fingers back from your tongue and runs them across your cheek, smearing the traces of your spit there.

A small whine slips out of your throat as you feel fresh wetness flooding your panties and he grins before he kisses you again, murmuring a “Good girl” against your lips. He leans back into his seat, his hand finding an almost innocent position close to your knee.

“Why don’t you read a little more, sweetheart? We’ll be there soon.”

He flashes you a smile that could pass as genuine but you catch the glint in his eyes as he clocks your dazed expression and your slightly parted lips. You nod dumbly and pick the book back up, but not a single word that you read actively registers in your mind.

You try catching glances at Dave, until by the fourth time, he pinches your chin between his fingers and turns your head back forward. “I said, read,” he murmurs into your ear. You know he gets off on this stuff, giving you stupid little orders. And on the fact that you let him. That you get off on it, too.

Your arrival happens in a blur. Dave leads you off the plane and through the smallest airport you’ve ever been to. Your brain is still a bit muddled from the unsatisfied arousal he’s ignited in you and now you’re excitedly turning your head left and right, trying to get in as many impressions as you possibly can. You’re not paying close attention to what’s happening and you’re thankful for the way Dave is taking charge without question. You’re happy to link you fingers through his and let him lead you wherever you need to go.

He retrieves your luggage, walks you out of the airport and to a waiting car. You spend the drive staring out of the window, your eyes wide, taking in all the beauty around you. It’s like you’ve arrived in literal paradise. You tell Dave as much and he chuckles, lifting your hand up to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss against your knuckles. The unexpectedly sweet gesture has you blushing and a soft smile plays around his lips.

The hotel is, quite frankly, insane. If you had been worried about the amount of money that he’s spent on this trip before, it pales in comparison to how you’re feeling now. The building is nestled against the foot of a mountain, lush green trees surrounding the front and the road leading up to the entrance, while it opens up to a small, private bay where turquoise waves calmly roll up against the whitest sand you’ve ever seen.

There’s glass walls everywhere, giving you an almost 360° view as you step into the lobby. You know that you’re gaping and Dave actually laughs at your expression as he walks you up to the reception desk to check in. You’re not listening closely, too busy taking in your surroundings and convincing yourself that this is your real life and not some extremely realistic daydream that you’re having while sitting at your work desk.

Dave finishes up and wraps an arm around your shoulders to lead you to the elevators, stepping inside and pressing the top button. The doors slide closed and you can barely think about the fact that you’re apparently staying on the top floor before you’re being whirled around and end up with your front pressed against the elevator wall with Dave’s hands roughly shoving up your skirt until your ass is exposed to him.

Your surprised giggle morphs into a moan as his hand comes down hard to slap it, before gripping the flesh so roughly that it borders on painful. He presses his body up against yours and captures your lips in a sloppy kiss as his other hand slides up to cup your breasts over your tank top.

“Dave- we can’t-,” you gasp just as the elevator comes to a halt and dings. He growls and flicks your skirt back down, but keeps you pressed against his side as the doors slide open again. Thankfully there’s no other people around on this floor to witness your surely utterly disheveled state.

The dark glint is back in his eyes as he drags you along to your room number. He stops in front of the door and turns you towards him, his eyes trained on your face as he stares you down. His voice is low, his tone calm and controlled, but somehow it’s more threatening than if he shouted at you.

“You think you get to tell me what we can and can’t do? You think that’s for you to decide?” His hand grabs your face, his fingers digging into your cheeks, and you whimper. “N-no sir, I’m sorry, I just thought-“ He slaps your cheek, not hard enough for it to hurt, but enough to shut you up. Enough to remind you of your place in this dynamic. Your eyes flicker around hastily, your mind acutely aware of the fact that you’re in a public setting and that someone could walk in on this at any time. His hold returns your face, forcing you to look at him again.

“You don’t think, sweetheart. I decide and you listen, isn’t that right? If I want you to show off that slutty little ass of yours for everyone to see, then that’s what you’ll do.”

You nod to your best ability with his hand still grasping your face, mumbling another, “I’m sorry, sir.” You can barely think, the heat between your thighs almost making your legs buckle at this point. His thumb moves to play with your bottom lip and a cruel smirk grows on his face.

“You will be, doll. This is the third time you’ve disrespected me today. Looks like you’re in for a rough night, huh?”

“Yes, sir.” You can’t help the way you subconsciously bite your lip and you know that your desire is written all over your face, your pupils probably blown wide and your cheeks hot.

“Christ,” he chuckles and seals your lips with another kiss, “you’re a fucked up little thing.” You can only nod, prompting another laugh from him.

He steps up beside you and digs a keycard out of his pocket, holding it up against the door that responds with an affirmative beeping sound and a lock clicking. He pushes the handle down and swings the door open, holding it for you, a hand on the small of your back as you tentatively take a few steps inside.

The gasp you let out now isn’t fueled by your arousal, which is momentarily forgotten, but by your utter inability to believe what you’re seeing. You’re standing in a small hallway which opens up into a gigantic living room that’s probably bigger than your entire apartment and completely lined with glass walls, revealing a balcony and the shimmering sea several floors below you. You slowly walk to the adjoining bedroom that houses the easily biggest bed you’ve ever seen and a continuation of the glass walls. From what you can see, the en-suite bathroom features a lot of white marble.

You turn back to Dave, who has followed you silently and seems to expectantly take in your every reaction. “You’re crazy,” you tell him and he grins as you struggle for words. “This is- it’s so expensive, it’s- it’s too much, really. You’re crazy,” you repeat and he walks up to you to take your hands. His thumbs rub little circles over the skin and he smiles softly.

“As I said, I wanted to do something nice for you. You deserve it, sweetheart, you do.”

“But- but it’s-,” you trail off, mortified to realize that your bottom lip is trembling and your eyes are getting wet. You’re not going to cry in front of Dave, not because of a stupid hotel room. More like a fucking suite, your brain unhelpfully provides and your lip trembles harder. Dave quickly wraps his arms around your shoulders, his eyes searching your face.

“But it’s what?” he implores, his features displaying a look of such genuine concern that you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen on him before. “Sweetheart, do you not like it?”

You shake your head, trying to think of some way to explain that doesn’t make you seem totally pathetic. “It’s-,” you draw a deep breath, “it’s just- this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Like, ever. I just can’t believe you would- for me…” You trail off, not sure how to explain that you can’t grasp why he would be willing to spend this amount of money on you. “What I mean to say is, it’s beautiful. Just- thank you. Really, thank you.”

You smile at him and the relief is incredibly evident on his face before he pulls you into a hug, his arms engulfing you, one hand stroking you head softly. For once, his hands don’t wander down your body, he just holds you tight and you allow yourself to think that you could get used to this.

You feel awkward after your little breakdown, but Dave doesn’t mention it again. He lets you traipse around the suite to explore and unpack and follows you when you step out onto the balcony where you inhale deeply, enjoying the salty air and the view down to the bay. You think that it might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your life and you flash a beaming smile at him.

“You like it?” he checks again and you nod eagerly. “Good,” he mumbles and steps up behind where you’re leaning against the railing, one of his arms finding its way around your middle and his head resting on your shoulder. “That’s good.”

You stay like that a little while, taking in the scenery in front of you in peaceful silence, listening to the sound of the waves that roll against the shore and watching as the sun is sinking lower, a soft golden light spreading out across the sky and reflecting in the water.

Eventually, one of his hands slowly starts gliding up your torso. He cups your breast and his fingers graze your quickly pebbling nipple. You moan quietly and instinctually push your hips back against his crotch and the growing hardness there, which causes him to chuckle as he bends down to run his lips over your neck, leaving small kisses and bites on the sensitive flesh.

You’ve been riled up and let back down so many times today that you feel a bit crazed at this point, the need for him between your legs downright painful as you grind your hips against him and another desperate moan escapes you. “Dave, please… I need you.” Your head falls back against his chest and his other arm loops around your middle, pressing you against him as he tuts softly.

“So needy that you’re forgetting all your manners, huh?”

He pinches your nipple, hard, before his hand sneaks higher and loosely wraps around your throat. The anticipation of what is -hopefully- finally about to happen has you feeling lightheaded. You don’t care that you’re outside, that anyone could look up and easily spot you on the balcony, you would let him fuck you right there, as long as he just finally fucks you at all. You haven’t given him an answer and the hold around you throat tightens. Not enough for any real pressure, but enough to remind you of the power he holds over you.

“Please, sir,” you whine and he chuckles again.

“Not yet, doll,” he whispers into your ear and his hand leaves your throat, then he turns you around until you’re face to face. You can see that he wants you too, it’s written on his features clear as day, and you can barely fathom his level of self-restraint right now. You open your mouth, ready to beg again, ready to beg for anything to relieve the throbbing pain between your thighs, but he shakes his head curtly and even in your lust-filled haze, you know better than to keep going and shut your mouth again.

He grins at your obedience and gives your lips a quick kiss. “Good girl. You’ll get everything you want soon enough, don’t worry. Just gotta be patient a little more, okay?” You nod, and dazedly let him take your hand and lead you back into the bedroom. “But first, we’re gonna have a nice dinner. Think you’re gonna need the energy, doll.” His grin turns downright feral and a small shudder runs through you. “Show me what pretty things you packed, yeah?”

You hum your agreement and turn to rummage through the closet, pick out a dress and fresh underwear and wander off into the bathroom. You half-expect him to stop you and make you change in front of him, but he doesn’t say a word. Maybe seeing you naked would be even too much for his restraint right now.

You change into the dress; it’s one of the new ones that you bought only last week while daydreaming about how Dave would take it off of you. It’s a short silk dress, dark red and with an open back that basically only consists of a several straps that form a loose pattern over your skin, which is why you forego a bra and only pull on a black thong, a lacy, barely there scrap of fabric. You also redo your makeup, adding a lipstick in a shade that matches the dress and freshen up your hair, then step out into the bedroom again.

Dave is still wearing the black slacks that he wore all day, but seems to have changed into a new, creamy white dress shirt, while you were busy in the bathroom. The top three buttons are open, which is one more than usual, exposing more of his broad chest than you’re used to and you know that you’re wearing an expression of awe on your face. He’s so beautiful. He always is, he’s stupidly attractive, really, but it’s hitting you especially hard right now, in these new surroundings and with the prospect of having him all to yourself for one whole week.

He’s eyeing you as well, his gaze roaming hungrily over your body. You become acutely aware of just how short the dress is, how much of your naked skin is on display. You like your body, and you’re not ashamed of showing it off, but this place is fancy. You know you look good, but suddenly, you feel a bit awkward. “Is- is this okay? Because, I-,” you stammer a little, “I didn’t expect this kind of hotel and you said- you said you wanted slutty, so…” You trail off, biting you lip nervously.

Dave’s gaze softens. It’s giving you whiplash, how quickly he switches between the domineering, controlled, sexually charged persona that he’s displaying around you most of the time, and this sweeter, caring side. The side that wants to do something nice for you. He takes a step towards you.

“Turn around for me, sweetheart.”

You do, giving him a little twirl before turning back around and meeting his gaze. He looks… you don’t know how to describe it. The hunger for you that you’re familiar with is there, but it’s also something else, something… more. “You look perfect,” he assures you and you can’t help but believe him. Then he continues, “take off your underwear.” You blink at him and he cocks an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t want any panty lines when you’re looking so gorgeous with that pretty dress.”

You know fully well that the tiny thong that you’re wearing isn’t leaving any panty lines, but you also know better than to argue. The thought of having nothing to protect your modesty under the very short hem of your dress makes you feel exposed, a little uneasy, which is probably exactly what he wants. Always testing your limits, always looking to see how far he can push you, how far you’d go to please him.

You slide your thong off and make to toss it in the direction of your suitcase, but he clicks his tongue and holds his hand out towards you. You put it into his waiting hand and he stuffs it into the pocket of his pants. You suppose that he’s planning something and that you’ll get to know about it when he wants you to, which isn’t now, so you keep your mouth shut and step closer to him. “Dinner?” you ask softly and lean on your tiptoes to kiss him. He returns the kiss, his tongue entering your mouth swiftly, giving you a taste of how much he wants you, before he pulls back and grabs your hand instead, leading you out of the suite and back to the elevator.

It’s just the two of you when you get on, but two floors down, you’re being joined by an elderly couple who you greet politely. As soon as their backs are turned to you, Dave’s hand is under your dress, running a finger through your slick folds. You manage to swallow your surprised gasp, but flinch slightly, and you see him smirk out of the corner of your eye. He slides his finger up and down your slit, brushing your already oversensitive clit a few times, and you bite down hard on your lip to keep the sounds inside that threaten to spill out of you.

When the elevator finally stops, he withdraws his hand and waits until the couple is a few steps away from you, until he leans down to whisper in your ear, “Good girl, learned your lesson I see. Now, what do you say?”

“Thank you, sir,” you breathe, your legs a bit wobbly and your arousal already leaking out of you.

“That’s right.” He pats your ass in a sort of condescending appreciation and you follow him into the dining area.

The hotel’s restaurant is located on the first floor, a beautiful, light-filled space that opens onto a big terrace which seems to float over the ocean and gives you a gorgeous view of the sunset’s colors that have become even more intense since you left your room. You’re being led to a small table for two and you gape at the view, causing Dave to laugh at you again, but it’s a warm laugh, that feels like he’s genuinely happy about how much you’re enjoying yourself.

You try reading through the menu, but you know maybe half of the things that are on there, much less how anything tastes or what you would prefer. You shoot Dave a sort of helpless look and he grins. “Want me to order for you?” he asks and you nod gratefully, trying not to feel embarrassed about how out of your depth you are. He orders something, along with a bottle of red wine, which you very much appreciate. You don’t know much about wine, but this one tastes really good. It turns out that he ordered some kind of fish for you, that you still have no idea how to pronounce right, but now you know that it’s freaking delicious. You tell Dave as much and he gives you another smile that seems much too soft and overwhelmingly right at the same time.

Dinner with him is much easier than you had anticipated. Apart from your excitement about the whole trip, you had been a little nervous about spending an entire week with him, having to make much more conversation than you usually do. It’s not that you never talk, but sooner or later, you end up naked with him whispering filth into your ear. You don’t go out on hour long dates, maybe a drink at a bar, but no big dinners and extensive talks. Until now.

Now you know that he’s a great listener, making you feel heard and understood, never once giving you the impression that you’re boring him. You also learn more about him, about his past, though he stays vague about his current job and the situation with his family. But it’s nice, being with him like this. Another thing that you could get used to, but that’s also another thought to shove into some far away corner of your mind. Be thankful for what it is, don’t become greedy for more, you tell yourself.

After two glasses of wine and a dessert that you could have died for, watching the sun set over the ocean until the night sky took over, you’re buzzing with happiness, but also excitement for the next part of the evening. The whole dinner was better than you could have imagined, but you have also been turned on for hours, with the man that you want right in front of you. When Dave finally stands up and pulls your chair out for you, you all but jump up and flit to his side. He chuckles and looks at your eager face. “Don’t get too excited, sweetheart. Tonight isn’t gonna be all that fun for you.”

The dark glint in his eyes is back and you’re subconsciously clenching your thighs together. The simple thought of what he might do to you is enough to push the arousal that has been simmering inside of you to the forefront of your mind again. You’re amazed how quickly he can sink back into that domineering character that could make you do almost anything with a simple snap of his fingers. He wasn’t like that at dinner, he didn’t once give you the impression that you’re below him or that he doesn’t respect you, separating this sexual dynamic that you’ve established from other parts of your interactions with clean precision.

He leads you out of the restaurant, his fingers grazing the bare skin on your back and you’re once again reminded that you’re completely bare beneath the skimpy dress that you’re wearing. His hand dips lower, playing with the hem that feels like it’s barely covering your ass. Goosebumps are forming on you lower back and your thighs and he chuckles darkly.

He keeps playing with your dress during the elevator ride, his fingers sliding underneath and grazing your ass repeatedly, until you’re fully riled up again. You’re a little nervous now. He promised to be rough several times today and you don’t doubt that he will. You’re excited as well, you want him rough, crave his control over you, but still…

He takes out the key card and opens the door as you follow him quietly, waiting for instructions. You can feel the tension rolling off of him. As soon as the door clicks shut, he’s on you, crowding you back against it, his hands grabbing your wrists and pulling them up above your head while he leans down to capture your waiting lips.

The kiss is messy, all teeth and tongues as he devours your mouth, towering over you and keeping your wrists fixed to the door while his whole body is pressing into yours. You arch into him, helplessly trying to get him closer as you moan into his mouth when he bites at your lower lip, keeping it in between his teeth as he pulls back a little before letting it go. You whine, the quick stab of pain transforming into pleasure and traveling straight to your pussy, which causes you to spread your legs wider and grind your hips against him.

He gathers both your wrists in his large hand, still pressing them against the wall above your head, and lets his other hand roam over your body, grabbing at your waist, bunching up the dress there. “Looked so good tonight, all dolled up in your pretty dress…” he murmurs with his lips now dragging against the soft skin of your neck, occasionally nipping and sucking at the skin, “and all this just for me, sweetheart?” He bites down right below your ear and your hips buck against him.

“Yes, yes sir, fuck…”

Your breath catches in your throat when he abruptly pulls the neckline down to expose your breasts and scratches his fingernails over your nipples. He pinches one hardened bud between his nails and pulls slightly before he lets go and watches how the flesh bounces back, then he repeats the motion on the other side. You’re gasping, tears are welling up in your eyes, it hurts, but it hurts so good, your pussy is completely soaked and you just want him to finally, finally fill you up.

Then he steps back, his jaw flickers as he watches you, still pressed against the door, panting softly and with a dazed expression on your face.

“Get on your knees.”

You get down immediately, hoping against hope that maybe he’ll let you come sooner when you’re being good now. He allows himself a cold smile at your eagerness and steps closer until you have to crane your neck to look up at him. He opens his belt and slacks in sure, controlled movements, the only evidence of his own need for you being the massive bulge that’s right in front of your face. He doesn’t waste time, shoving his pants and underwear down in one move and letting his cock spring free.

You gasp quietly, your mouth opening on its own accord at the sight of his massive length and you look up at him hungrily. “Open wide,” he tells you softly, almost gently and you obey, sticking your tongue out and watching mesmerized as he lets his tip rest on your tongue for a few moments. He pulls back slightly, smearing a mix of your saliva and his pre-cum across your cheeks, then slapping you with his cock, which causes you to moan. “Filthy little thing,” he murmurs and sinks into your wet mouth in one hard thrust.

You gag almost immediately, your throat contracting around him and he groans as he grabs your head and holds you still. Tears well up in your eyes and you already feel lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. He finally lets go and you desperately suck in a lungful of air before he starts thrusting into your mouth again, hitting the back of your throat every time and causing you to choke around him. The way he pushes you around, uses you for his own pleasure has a new rush of wetness flooding your pussy and you’re itching to touch your clit, just a little bit.

He notices how you’re squirming beneath him, how one of your hands is inching closer between your legs and he stops his thrusts, his cock still taking up most of your mouth, and looks down at your face.

“You wanna touch yourself? You like having your face fucked like a whore?”

You nod as best as you can and hum desperately, gazing up at him through your tear-soaked lashes. He furrows his brow, looking down at you with that wicked glint in his eye. “You know how to ask properly, I didn’t hear you sweetheart,” he tells you, sinking even deeper into your throat and you fight to suppress another gag. You hum again and look at him pleadingly; he’s well aware that you can’t ask him anything with his cock filling your throat like this. “Guess you don’t want to, then,” he shrugs, “hands behind your back. You’re not touching that pussy without my permission.” You whine, your clit throbbing painfully for attention, but you obediently cross your wrists at the small of your back.

“Poor thing,” he coos and pats your head in mock-sympathy, then moves his hand back to hold you in place as he pounds into your throat with renewed force. You gag around him, tears flowing all over your face and drool streaming down your chin and onto your tits. He sinks into you again and again, holding you up by your head and making you sputter around him, desperate to somehow draw air into your lungs. “Take it,” he growls, “take it like the little slut you are, down on the floor for me. That’s how you like it, don’t you?” He finally pulls out of you and slaps your cheek when you don’t respond immediately. “Don’t you?!”

“Y-yes sir,” you rasp, gasping for breath, tears and spit still all over your face.

He crouches down cups the cheek that he just slapped, his thumb rubbing at the tear-stained skin under your eye. You’re positive that you look a mess, mascara running down your cheeks and your dark lipstick smeared all around your mouth, mixing with your spit. Your hands are still behind your back, the arch in your body making you push your chest out and putting your tits on full display for him. He starts toying with your nipples again and you want to cry. An orgasm feels so close, yet so far away. You feel like you could come with just a few strokes on your clit, but you have no idea how much longer he will string you along until he finally deems it enough.

“You’ve been such a good girl, sweetheart. So patient all day, I bet you’re dripping all down those pretty legs right now, aren’t you? So desperate and ready for me, yeah?” His voice is a low growl in front of you and you whine your agreement. It’s not enough for him. “Say it. Tell me how desperate my little slut is to finally get fucked.”

You hesitate, your eyes dropping to the ground in front of you. “I-,” you gasp as he roughly grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, waiting for you to do as he said. “I need you to fuck me, so badly. I’ll be so good, I promise, just p-please, sir,” you whine, feeling pathetic, your voice trembling and your face burning. No matter how many depraved things he gets you to do with him, for him, talking like this still gets you embarrassed. Which is precisely why he makes you do it.

“And what are you?”

You feel your face heating up. “Your s-slut, sir.”

He grins as he adds another slap against your cheek. “Damn right you are.”

He straightens back up, tugs himself back into his pants and looks down at you. “Bedroom.” You scramble to get up, but he shakes his head and lands a hand on your shoulder, pushing you back down again. “No no. You’re gonna crawl.” You sink back on your hands and knees, the amount of embarrassment and arousal that you’re feeling making you dizzy, and you look up at him shyly.

He nods approvingly and bends down to tug your dress up higher until your bare ass and pussy are on full display. “Good girl, right where you belong. Off you go, come on.” You bite your lip and start crawling towards the bedroom, his footsteps right behind you and you can feel his eyes drinking you in as another groan grumbles in his chest.

You stop in front of the bed and give him a questioning look. He gestures for you to stand up and you get back to your feet with trembling knees. He steps closer, his hands ghosting over your shoulders and toying with the straps of your dress.

“Such a pretty dress,” he murmurs as he slides them off your shoulders, the garment slipping down your body, leaving you bare except for the heels that you’ve been wearing all evening. You’re painfully aware of the power dynamic between you, how you’re completely naked and at his mercy while he’s still fully dressed. His hands roam over you, leaving goosebumps in their wake and come to rest at your hips. He squeezes the flesh there, then turns you around until you’re facing the bed.

One hand reaches up to your neck and he bends you over until your upper body is resting on the mattress, your back arching and your ass up in the air for him. He takes a step back and lands a slap on your backside without warning. You yelp, your body instinctively lurching forward and your legs shaking with the strain of keeping your balance in your heels. He notices, of course, and says, “You better keep those pretty legs steady, doll,” before reaching forward and massaging your stinging flesh. You hum, trying to get your muscles to cooperate, but your legs won’t stop trembling.

Dave’s touch leaves your body and he sits down on the bed beside your head, his eyes searching your face. “What’s your color, sweetheart?” he inquires, softly stroking your cheek. “Green,” you answer without hesitation. It has already been a lot and you’re sure that he’s nowhere near finished with you, but you like it like this. You crave it. He nods, his touch still gentle on your face.

“And what do you say when you need me to stop?”

“Red,” you whisper, leaning into his touch. “Good girl,” he murmurs and leans forward to press a kiss to your cheek, before he stands up again and disappears from your field of view.

“So,” his voice drawls from behind you, “I think I’ll give you twenty-five tonight, how’s that sound, sweetheart?” You gulp, but know that there’s only one acceptable answer.

“S-sounds good, sir. Thank you,” you breathe, the apprehension clear in your voice, and he laughs quietly.

“And what did you do to deserve this?”

You bite your lip again, struggling to think through the fog of arousal clearly enough to give him an answer that he’ll be satisfied with. “I d-didn’t listen and talked- talked back at you, and…” you trail off when his hand dips between your legs, swirling through the wetness there before retreating again. You inhale sharply and continue, “…and that was disrespectful. I’m sorry, sir, it won’t- it won’t happen again.”

“We’ll see about that,” Dave mumbles and his fingertips ghost over your lower back. “But that was a nice little speech, sweetheart. Starting now, you’re gonna count them out for me, yeah? Lose count and we’ll start over.” You nod and your hands grip the sheets as you try bracing yourself.

The first slap meets your flesh, not as hard as you know he can go, but hard enough to get a small scream out of you. “One,” you force yourself to say and he hums appreciatively, before landing the second slap exactly on the same spot as the first one. “T-two,” you whine, his handprint searing on your skin.

You make it until eleven before your legs give out, your trembling muscles collapsing under the task of keeping you upright in your heels while your body is scrambling to get away from the oncoming assault on your ass cheeks. You fall forward, your knees hitting the mattress right after Dave’s hand connected with your backside again. “Twelve, I’m sorry, sir,” you choke out.

“It’s okay,” he assures you, stepping closer and running his hands soothingly over your back as he searches your face, a look of soft concern on his face. “What’s your color, doll?”

“Green. Still- still green, sir,” you breathe out and you mean it. You feel like you’re on fire, but in the best way.

“Yeah?” he questions, “want me to continue?” and you nod your head eagerly. The concern washes away from his face, his jaw tensing and his eyes growing cold again. “Fucking masochistic little slut,” he growls and you moan, your walls desperately clenching around nothing.

He lets you stay with your knees on the bed, your ass still up high for him, until you’ve finally reached “twenty-five, t-thank you, sir.” You’re sobbing at this point, your skin feels raw where he hit you, but you’re also damn near delirious with want for him.

Dave strokes your skin gently, telling you what a good girl you’ve been and how proud he is of you, and you bask in his praise. Then his hand travels lower, slipping between your thighs until his fingers are running through your folds, feeling how soaked exactly his rough treatment has left you. “Fuck doll, you’re dripping. You really liked that, huh?” he murmurs as he pushes two of his thick fingers into you, sliding in easily and making you moan loudly.

He thrusts into your tight heat roughly, causing you to arch your back and spread your legs wider, your release so close that you can almost taste it. He keeps going until he feels you growing tighter, starting to clench around his fingers, and slides them out of you abruptly. You sob, feeling your orgasm subside again.

“I think you were about to come without permission, sweetheart. You just promised me you’d be good, didn’t you? Guess your greedy little cunt just can’t help herself, huh?”

You whimper an apology and receive another slap to your abused skin, causing you to jerk forward. “No doll, you stay right here. Give me your hands,” Dave’s stern voice orders from behind you. You let him take hold of your wrists, leaving you completely at his mercy in the position that you’re in, and he digs your panties out of his pants pocket, looping them around your wrists until they’re tightly secured.

When he’s satisfied with his work, you finally hear the rustling of him taking off his clothes. Without warning, you feel him swipe the head of his cock through your drenched folds, teasing you with the tip, grazing your clit and causing you to gasp, then sliding back until he’s prodding at your entrance. You whine loudly and try pushing your hips backwards, but his hold tightens around you, keeping you in position.

“Not so fast. Be a good girl and beg for it,” he requests, in a voice that still sounds so controlled, while you feel like you’re barely able to form words anymore. You’re not embarrassed anymore, the promise of his cock so close to where you want him wiping all inhibitions from your mind.

“Please sir, I need you so badly, please fuck me, I’ll do anything, just please…”

You feel pathetic begging like this, but you couldn’t care less. Dave lets out a strained groan behind you, and then he’s pushing into you in one strong thrust. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve taken him or how wet you are, his size always stings at the first intrusion and you wail, your body being pushed forward by his movement and he grips your bound wrists, holding you steady as he starts pounding into you.

“So fucking tight and wet you little slut, fuck you take me so good, being such a good girl, fuck…” Now his voice sounds wrecked behind you and you moan loudly at his words and at the way he’s splitting you open. This is what you had been craving for hours, the feeling of him thrusting into you again and again, and you push your hips back to meet his thrusts, to get him even deeper.

One of his hands grips your hair and pulls, forcing you to arch your back even more and slightly shifting the angle where he’s pounding into you, hitting something so delicious inside of you that you almost come on the spot, your walls already fluttering around him, but you’re not allowed, your scrambled brain reminds you, you need…

“Please sir, I’m gonna come, can I please…” Your voice breaks off into a sob when his movements slow down and he pulls out of you, pushing you forward until you’re laying flat on the bed, and he starts working on releasing your bound wrists.

“Good girl, asking for permission,” he praises, “but you’re gonna look me in the face when I make you come tonight.”

He frees your wrists and turns you around so that you’re on your back, looking up at him through teary eyes, desperate for your release. “Poor thing,” he coos as he gets between your legs, placing his large hands on your thighs and spreading them wide. His cock nudges at your entrance but he doesn’t sink back into you, his gaze trained on your face and his hand wandering up to play with your bottom lip.

“Open wide,” he tells you and you obey, parting your lips and sticking your tongue out. His breath has turned heavy by now and he hovers over you, hungry eyes roaming over your face, your open mouth and your wet eyes. He draws back the tiniest bit, then he spits into your mouth, his saliva coating your tongue and you whine, the filth of the whole situation making your pussy clench once more.

“Keep it open, show me.”

You hold still, your mouth wide open, feeling his spit mixing with yours as you stare up at him, waiting for his next command. “Now swallow,” he finally says and you do, showing him your empty mouth afterwards and he grins. “Fuck, you’re such an obedient slut, being such a good girl for me. You’d do anything right now, wouldn’t you? Fucked all the thoughts out of that pretty little head, yeah?”

“Yes, anything,” you whimper, and he sinks his cock back into you without preamble. Your eyes widen at the sensation of being full again and the new angle, moans of his name falling from your mouth and you wrap your legs around him, grasping at his wide shoulders to hold onto something as he starts pounding into you again with raw strength.

One of his hands wraps around your throat, squeezing until you feel light-headed, intensifying the feeling of his deep thrusts into you. Pleading whispers leave your lips, but you don’t even know what you’re begging for anymore, if you want more, if you want him to stop.

His movements speed up even more, hitting spots inside of you that have you moaning and squirming underneath him and the hand on your throat travels down to your breasts, toying with your nipples, pinching and pulling and sending delicious waves of pain through you.

You’re so close again, when his hand slides down to rub at your clit, making you scream and throw your head back, your eyes pinched close. He grabs at your face and forces you to look at him.

“Oh no, you’re gonna look me in the eyes when I make you come, are you gonna come sweetheart?”, he growls. You whine and nod desperately, your eyes shining with tears. “Go ahead then, come for me, squeeze my cock like the good little whore you are.”

He swirls his thumb over your neglected clit once more, gives you a particularly hard thrust and your vision swims, your whole body tensing up before you bear down on him and fall apart. You’re clenching rhythmically around his cock as the orgasm tears through your body in pulsing waves and you’re pulling him over the edge with you as he climaxes with a deep moan, spilling his release inside of you.

You’re a trembling mess, your breath stuttering and your mind still caught up in a blissful haze, and you’re only vaguely aware of him collapsing beside you, but you register the tender kiss that he presses to your cheek before he gets up and retreats to the bathroom.

The next thing you feel is the bed dipping as he sits down beside you again and you slowly blink your eyes open. Maybe it’s the post-orgasmic bliss that you’re still lost in, but you think to yourself that he looks especially beautiful right now, his face relaxed with a small smile playing around his mouth, where the stubble of his beard is showing through at the end of the day, and with his brown eyes warm again now as he looks at you.

“May I?” he asks and holds up a damp towel. You nod, returning his smile and watching as he brings the towel down between your legs, cleaning you up and soothing your hot skin. He gently turns you over and spreads some kind of healing balm over your burning cheeks, careful not to touch you too roughly. He also cleans your face, his soft touches almost enough to lull you to sleep.

When he’s finished, he maneuvers you around, causing you to giggle, until you’re in the middle of the bed and he can pull the covers over you, sliding in beside you and wrapping his arm around your middle. You shuffle closer until you’re securely tugged into his side, your breath fanning against his broad chest.

“You good?” he asks, looking down at you and placing a kiss on your forehead. “Yeah,” you smile up at him and stretch to reach his mouth with your lips. He kisses you back, his hand coming up to play with your hair, and you smile even wider. As much as he likes to be rough with you, you think that what he actually needs, is the softness.

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webslingingslasher · 1 year

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desperately need “trying to pretend that some jokes/comments don't bother them until one just finally goes too far” from the prompt list!! maybe peter trying to fit in w a certain crowd and making dumb dude jokes? or funny haha comments about things reader is really insecure about (other “prettier” girls wink hint)?

kinda not the request but kinda yeah

Who came up with the ball and chain simile?

Just a question, because if you knew, you’d travel back in time to find the weak, misogynistic, miserable son of a bitch and punch his nose a good one. Just imagining the blood just trickling, a bruise forming under his condescending eye, it sends a satisfying zing up your spine.

Well, you didn’t know who came up with the term. However you did know who’s been using it, and it makes you want to punch him all the same.

“Nice to finally meet Parker’s ball and chain,” it makes you want to immediately retract your hand and look at Peter in shock, you didn’t know this person at all, he was Peter’s friend, someone he’s been hanging out more with around campus, and he wanted you to meet him, and the first thing he compares you to was something that weighs someone down.

Your hand goes limp in his hand, he hasn’t even told you his name, “I’m sorry, what?”

And he laughs, not the man shaking your hand, don’t worry he laughs too, with the other circle of friends. No, the laugh that stuck out the most was your boyfriends.

Like an inside joke, it made you feel really small. Normally you’d pull your hand away and tuck into Peter’s side, but right now you want to walk away. Peter didn’t have your back here, how nasty that sounded, from a stranger no less, and it made him laugh and disregard the audacity in his friend's voice.

When the man holding your hand caught your silence he stopped and shook your hand, “just kidding, love.” His pet name sends a chill down your spine, where’s Peter’s supportive hand on your back? “I’m Nick.”

You bite your tongue and smile appropriately until the end of the dragged out interaction, only speaking when necessary, missing Peter’s touches, why wasn’t he holding you? Normally his hand would hold your thigh at the dinner table, or his thumb would take swipes at your back to settle you when you leaned into him. The only thing he’s done is thrown a dominating arm over your shoulder when his other friend Oscar complimented your outfit, it didn’t feel right and you shrugged him off.

You couldn’t hold it in any longer, the second you were far enough away from his friends ears you spoke, the breeze outside made you cross your arms over your chest, spitting your words with venom you couldn’t bear to even look at Peter.

“What the fuck was that tonight?”

Peter looked at you, dared to be confused, “what was what?”

You pointed back at the restaurant, “that, Peter. What the fuck was that?”

“Dinner?”

You seeth, he’s playing dumb, you refuse to get in his car. “What the fuck is the matter with you?”

“Get in the car,” he looks back over, hoping his friends aren’t watching.

“No. Not until you tell me what that was.”

Peter rubbed his forehead, “stop being dramatic, get in the car.”

He’s never spoken to you like this, you don’t know what went on but you were livid. He was speaking to you like a dog, nervous you were speaking your mind at his sudden change of character in front of his friends.

“Peter, I swear to fucking god you better check yourself, I’ll show you how dramatic I can be.”

He takes a look back, no one’s watching, he quickly comes to your side of the car. His arms grip your shoulders and he gently pushes you against the car. “Stop, please just get in the car.”

You narrow your eyes, “you’re not sleeping over tonight.”

He sighs and pushes you to the side, he opens the passenger side door and gestures to it, “okay, sure. Will you please just get in?”

You scoff and push him away, “I am so unbelievably pissed at you it’s not funny.”

Frustration seeps at Peter’s voice, his teeth are clenched, “yeah, I get it. Just get the fuck in, Y/N.”

You click your teeth and get in, before Peter can close the door you grab the handle and slam it shut as hard as you could, you watch him pinch the bridge of his nose and mumble to himself in the side mirror before walking back to his side.

When he sat down you turned your body towards the door, you refused to speak to him.

“I’m not talking to you.”

Peter doesn’t wrap his arm around your seat when he reverses, you know why you’re mad, he doesn’t have a right to be mad.

“Great.”

“I just wanted you to know.”

“Thanks.”

You’re beyond pissed, but him not fighting back made it worse. It made you blow over even harder, suddenly you either needed to get out of the car or you were about to start screaming. Your jaw clenched as you waited but he said nothing, tapping his fingers to the beat on the radio you felt like you were steaming.

“You were shit tonight and so were your friends.”

“So you are talking to me.”

“Yeah, because I wanted you to know you made me feel like shit tonight and you’re making it worse by not defusing it.”

“I just,” Peter pauses, then sighs and rubs his eyebrow, “baby, I don’t know what you’re mad at.”

The sudden tone change made you sad, why were you mad? Nick said a shitty thing, but Peter didn’t have your back, that’s what it was about.

You have a lot of emotion and not enough time or space to figure them out, they come out in the form of tears. You tried your hardest to blink back tears, you sniffed and it gave you away.

“Baby?” A hand rested on your thigh, you grabbed it to push it off, instead his worry made you burst. Your lower lip trembles when you speak, the words tumble out. “Nick was mean and you laughed.”

And Peter felt bad, so he pulled off the road and unbuckled himself to reach over and hold you. He repeated sorry’s until you felt better, then told you it was a dumb joke, and he was so, so, so sorry.

“I promise, baby, it was just a joke.”

Maybe you were overreacting, you did just meet him and he was Peter’s friend, maybe he just made a tasteless joke, you could accept it at that.

“You promise it was just a joke?”

Peter presses kisses to your hairline, “promise.”

You tried to keep the same mindset over the next few weeks, you plastered a fake smile on each time it was said and sometimes you were able to choke out a laugh, joke or not the meaning upset you.

You couldn’t handle it anymore, last night Nick laid into you, “late again, let me guess, the ball and chain were reluctant to let go?” It wasn’t being compared to the object anymore, you were the object.

“Can we talk?”

Those words always sent a jolt in Peter’s spine, he hates those three words, nothing good ever happened.

“Of course.” He watched you pace the floor in front of him.

“I tried being cool, Peter. I really did, and I didn’t want to be dramatic and ruin a fun time, but I can’t, Peter. I can’t handle the jokes anymore, it makes me feel super insecure and it feels like I’m just an object for you.”

“What jokes?”

It feels silly, but you feel judged every time you do something around his friends.

“The ball and chain ones. It makes me feel like I’m weighing you down, and it’s really getting to me. I don’t want to ruin the joke but I just feel like I can’t be myself around your friends.”

Peter’s upset he’s let it go on so long, he should’ve stopped it after the first time it happened but when he saw you smile along he thought you were in on the joke, you weren’t, it still felt like they were laughing at you.

“If it makes you feel like that it’s not a joke. I’ll stop it, they’ll never say it again.”

Was it really that easy?

“I don’t want to be dramatic,”

“Not dramatic, poking fun at someone's expense isn’t fun.”

It was that easy.

“Never again?”

“Nope. Watch this,” Peter grabs his phone and holds it up, “hey, Siri. Text the group chat, my old lady’s making me tell you guys-”

Peter was cut off when you tackled him to the couch.

#peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker blurb #tasm! peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x you #peter parker fluff #my writing

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mncxbe · 10 months

Note

Can i request something along the lines of "God look at you, how pathetic. I don't care that it hurts, your one job is to be my playtoy and yet you're not even good at that. I know you're just a dumb mutt but I can tell that you want to please me. Now be the good little whore I know you are and make yourself cum for me." Something like this if thats fine it can be any character you’d like from BSD if you cant do this its completely fine!!

sorry it took so long but yes sure I did my best to write it but it sweetened it a bit. I honestly felt that Fyodor would be best for this so I hope you like it♡ Also not me always having to explain why they're fucking // gentle reminder that I'm still taking requests so send them in

11 p.m

𝑭𝒚𝒐𝒅𝒐𝒓 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut♡/fluff

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: degradation/ overstim.

Fyodor didn't usually get jealous; and even on those rare occasions he managed to maintain his cool demeanor. He knew you possessed the type of beauty that everyone was drawn to, regardless of their gender. That's what made him feel drawn to you in the first place. He didn't fall for your charms tho, but for your keen intelligence, wits and sense of loyalty.

Every time a man would flirt with you he would watch you turn him down with a smile on your face, waving him off like he was a mere insect. In other words, your boyfriend trusted you and never doubted your devotion.

That was until he spotted you whispering in a corner with Dazai. You were at a party held by one of the town's officials; a man who wanted to join Fyodor's cause. While they were discussing business in a separate room you were left alone with the other guests. You were quite surprised to see your boyfriend's biggest enemy there, quietly sipping champagne from his tall glass.

You walked up to him and struck up a casual conversation.

"Tell me, miss. What's Fyodor's girl doing here all by herself?" he eventually questioned with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"I see you know who I am. Well, I just wanted to go out tonight, nothing more"

"So your boyfriend isn't plotting anything with the officials?"

Your lips curled into a grin as you finally understood what formidable a opponent Dazai was, why Fyodor was so worked up about him.

"Not at all" you replied meekly as Dazai leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"Then I'm sure you wouldn't mind dancing with me. Since you're all alone"

At that moment you felt Fyodor's arm snake around your waist.

"Hello, dearest. Sorry I made you wait"

He spared Dazai a quick, spiteful glance before pulling you away, guiding you towards the grand doors. The brunette only chuckled, mumbling something you couldn't hear.

When you got out of the building the car was already waiting for you and you quickly got inside; the wheels squealing on the pavement as you drove off.

"How was it? Did you strike a deal?" you asked your partner, but he didn't reply. You then tried to touch his hand and once again he brushed you off.

The ride home was awfully silent; but as soon as the door of your bedroom was closed, your boyfriend spoke in a low voice.

"I see you enjoyed yourself tonight. How did you find Dazai, quite charmind isn't he?" His voice was laced with anger and you noticed it.

"Not at all" you replied carefully "I mean, he's intelligent but I wouldn't say charming"

"Interesting. You seemed to enjoy talking to him; had those big doe eyes, always fawning over him"

"That's not it, Fyodor I~"

You were cut short by his hand, which wrapped around your neck in a swift motion. His lips crashed against yours as he pushed you until the back of your thighs hit the bed frame. You toppled backwards and fell onto the soft mattress with Fyodor on top of you.

His teeth grazed the soft skin of your neck. "I'm quite disappointed in you, doll. Didn't expect you to behave like that." His voice sent shivers down your spine, your back slightly arching under his touch "Seems like I need to teach you a lesson"

Fyodor suddenly spun you over so that your chest was facing down and lifted your hips while unbucking his belt. His calloused hands slid to your hips as he pulled up your dress, exposing your drenched lingerie.

He let out a chuckle before pushing himself into you. You whined, your legs wobble from the burning sensation.

"Fedya please wait I'm~"

"Yes you're quite wet I can see that" he said as he began moving, earning another moan from you. He set a fast pace, making your whole body shake with pleasure; you loved it when he was rough on you.

Surprisingly enough he let you cum when you felt like it. You fell onto the mattress and laid on your back, heaving.

Your partner's eyes wandered along your figure.

"Take off that dress. I'm not done with you yet" he ordered in a harsh tone.

And you obeyed, undressing yourself and before you knew it you were back underneath him, legs wide apart as he thrust into you. "Look at you, such a mess for me" he spoke again, his violet eyes locked with yours. You could only mumble a 'yes' and roll back your eyes as he pushed you through your second orgasm.

Then the third.

Now he had you on top of him; his fingers buried deep into the flesh of your hips, guiding your movements. After climaxing so many times you were starting to get dry.

"Fedya 's too much. C..Can't anymore it hurts" you mumbled under your breath.

"I don't care if it hurts, your only job is to be my playtoy and you can barely manage that. I can tell that you want to please me though so be the good little girl I know you are and make yourself cum for me."

The tears that were forming at the corners of your eyes started cascading down your cheeks when your heard his cruel words. You nevertheless picked up your pace, grinding on him. "That's it. See, wasn't so hard" He started rubbing circles on your clit, causing you to clench around him.

You reached your high soon after; your thighs squeezed his narrow waist as you leaned forward, laying on your partner's chest with your eyes closed; your tears of pleasure wet his pale skin.

When Fyodor gently pushed you off him you tensed. "Please no more I can't take more" you whined but he only brushed off your tears, caressing your cheek with his hand.

You eventually slowly opened your eyes, daring to look ag your partner. His gaze was a lot softer now, any trace of annoyance or anger having dissipated.

"Are you alright, my dearest? I'm sorry if I went too far" he inquired worriedly.

"Yes, I'm okay. Just a bit sore"

After a few minutes of silence spent calming your heartbeat you spoke again.

"Are you still mad at me for talking to Dazai?"

Fyodor huffed and lay next to you, pulling your body closer to his. "I'm not, my dearest. I just don't want to have to compete with that man for your heart."

You chuckled lightly and nestled in his embrace. Your head came to rest on his chest; arms locked tightly around his torso.

"I could never love anyone but you, Fedya"

"I sure hope so" he eventully replied, but you were already fast asleep.

Fyodor let himself drift into the reals of dreams, your steady breath lulling him to sleep.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd smut #fyodor bsd #fyodor smut #fyodor x reader #smut #fyodor x you #bsd dazai #dazai osamu

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tanniefm · 1 year

Text

christmas & chill | jjk (m)

sequel to all to you

summary - it’s the most happiest time of the year with your needy boy.

pairing - jungkook x reader (f)

genre - established relationship, pwp, fluff

word count - 3.7k

song inspo - the entirety of ariana grande’s ep christmas & chill ofc!

warnings - reader and koo are hopelessly in love sigh, lots of cum, unprotected sex (pls don’t be dumb like them i beg), koo kinda switches lowkey sorry, overstimulation, hint of dacryphilia, koo’s a lil crybaby, extremely needy koo, praise, riding, backshots yayyyy, oral (f receiving), squirting, cum eating, pet names (ur his angel <3), reader is chubby coded (is that a thing? i’m making it a thing), reader suffers from FPS (fat pussy syndrome) whilst jungkook suffers from FDBS (fat dick and balls syndrome) 😞

a/n - a lil gift from me to u ♡ thank u all for all the love. i wanted to post something for christmas as a 2 year anniversary to my first ever fic i posted on here. hope u enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. see u next year!!

♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪♪°•°∞°•°♪°•

The semester is over, finals are a thing of the past, and your lovely new boyfriend is coming over in 15 minutes. Merry fucking Christmas to you!

Due to finals being obnoxiously cutthroat this year, you’ve barely been able to spend any time with Jungkook. He offered to help you study multiple times, but you felt it would be more responsible to study on your own without any…distractions. You learned from last time that studying with him ends with materials being forgotten and clothes being strewn about. So for two weeks, you put a sex ban on the both of you so that way when you were able to reconnect, it’d be 10x better. Jungkook reluctantly agreed but had a huge pout on his face that you oh so lovingly kissed away. Ever since you two made it official, it’s like all you ever think about is being grossly lovey-dovey with him. In your defense, he makes it a little hard not to. He’s the sweetest boy in the world, of course you wanna shower him with kisses and endless praise and let him pump as much cum into you as his heart desires! The look on his face does you in every single time, just thinking about it is making you squeeze your plush thighs together.

You shake your head to re-focus on the task of getting ready. Your roommate has the same plans as you do with her own significant other so she notified you she’d be gone for the weekend with a sly smile. Fortunately for her, this means she won’t have to hear the headboard banging rhythmically into the wall at 3 am anymore - well, at least for the weekend. You’ve decided to pamper yourself a little before he arrives. Showered, shaved, moisturized, spritz some sweet-smelling perfume, and even put on a little bit of makeup just to make yourself feel extra cute. You put on some fuzzy pink shorts that make your legs and ass look good, and a tank top with Hello Kitty positioned right in the middle of your boobs. You look and feel so fucking good right now. ‘Jungkook’s gonna bust in his pants again,’ you sigh blissfully to yourself. However, tonight you want him to fill you up completely. It’s what you deserve after such a stressful month of non-stop studying and crying over due dates. You give yourself a little smile in the mirror before you walk to the living room to turn on the tv for background noise. Watching movies is the last thing on your mind at the moment.

Your head springs up when you hear melodic taps on the door. Anytime Jungkook knocks, it has to be to the tune of whatever song he was listening to earlier, it’s a habit you’ve always found to be endearing. You skip to the door happily, excited to see your favorite boy.

“Hey angel, I got us- mph,” you interrupt his sentence with a deep kiss. Fuck, you missed him so much. Although you’d never admit it to his face, as he tends to get a bit cocky (which never lasts once you’re on top of him), this sex ban has been torture for you. You made the foolish decision of adding that neither of you was allowed to touch yourselves while you cracked down on studying. So to say you were pent-up was a gross understatement. You parted from him for air and saw how dazed he looked. Pink cheeks and shaky breaths. Just like always.

You smirk and look down at the bags he has in his hands. “You got food? Aww, you’re too sweet, come in! It’s freezing,” you say innocently. You grab the bags of takeout from him and usher him inside. He’d like to blame his rosy face on the cold wind, but you and him both know you just caught him off guard. And turned him on a little. These past couple of weeks have been what Jungkook would imagine hell is like. And then to add the extra challenge of not masturbating? November is over! What happened to Destroy Dick December?? Nevertheless, he’s ecstatic to see you again. He has so much to give you. He knows you can take it, he just wonders if he can. Other than his incessant horniness though, he’s just as excited to curl up with you under your warm weighted sheets and hold and kiss and love you endlessly. He walks inside to see you’ve transformed the living room into a cozy holiday getaway. Fairy lights decorated the tables and doorway, soft music flowed throughout the room, chilled wine set out on the table, and you, looking as gorgeous as ever. God, he’s so in love with you. He wants every holiday season to be spent with you by his side. He plops himself down on the couch and stares at your pretty figure retreating to the kitchen to collect plates and utensils. He notices that you’re wearing the short fuzzy shorts that he likes. The ones where he can clearly see the soft thighs he always imagines rutting himself between. Maybe if he’s good tonight you’ll let him. His dick slowly hardens at the prospect.

You come back with eating materials in hand and sit next to him closely on the couch. “What’s all this for?” he asks distractedly. He notices you’ve also put on the perfume he can’t get enough of. It’s subtle enough to not mess with his sensitive nose but sweet enough to keep him wanting more. He wants all of you. Right now. “I thought I’d make the atmosphere nice and warm for us since it’s been so long since we’ve had a chance to be alone together,” you say smiling brightly. You dig into your food ignoring your very erect boyfriend. “You aren’t hungry baby?” you ask with a slight pout. He shakes his head slowly and scans your body up and down, seeing that you’ve foregone a bra. Your nipples poke through the little tank top you’ve thrown on and he desperately wants to lean down and put them in his mouth.

You snicker at how obvious he’s being. You knew he’d get like this as soon as he saw you. You’re surprised he didn’t crumble and fall to his knees the moment you kissed him. There had been many nights throughout these past few weeks where he’d text you alluding to wanting to see you, touch you, taste you, anything. All of which you would shut down and sternly tell him to not touch himself. “The only one that’s making you cum this month is me, do you understand?” you had firmly told him one night. He whimpered and whinily agreed. He’s such a good boy, your good boy.

Now with you right in front of him, looking the way that you do, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. You laugh and swallow the last bite of your food and turn to him. “Ok ok, I get it,” you say as you lean in to kiss him. He immediately wants to deepen it but you push him back before he has the chance. “Don’t you want to make a little toast first?” you don’t think he could get any poutier. “If I drink this wine can we have sex after?” you giddily nod and pour your glasses. “To us,” you clink your glasses together and watch as he hastily downs his whole cup. This is definitely gonna be a long night.

Without even considering letting you finish, he dives in for another long kiss. You smile into it and place your glass on the table to focus your full attention on him. Tongues dancing for dominance that he beautifully succumbs to. You climb on top of him slowly and straddle his firm thighs. You’ll never get over how such a strong man will willingly submit to your every whim. He’s so perfect.

He runs his hands up and down your sides and feels how soft you are. He knows you’ve been insecure about your body in the past, but he’s always loved it. Even before you agreed to be his girlfriend, he’d savor any ounce of physical contact with you if it meant he got to feel your tiny squishy self against his lean muscular form. Your thighs squeeze around his hips and you push your heat against his straining bulge. He moans wantonly. This is what he’s been craving. Your warmth on top of him. The only thing that could make this better is you letting him inside of you to feel it completely. He bucks his hips into yours to hint at what he wants. But you know, you’ve known since before he walked into your place. If he had things his way, he would’ve picked you up and taken you on the front door. But he enjoys the teasing and the waiting. He enjoys the thrill of not knowing what’ll happen next. He enjoys anything you’ll allow him.

Your kisses descend upon his jaw and neck as his cold hands fiddle with the hem of your tank top. He gives you a pleading look, silently asking if he can take it off, which causes you to nod as an affirmative. He quickly takes it off and leans back to do the same to his own shirt. Seeing his bare chest will forever be a treat for you. You're sure he could say the same if his ogling of your boobs is anything to go by. “You’re so pretty,” he sighs. His pupils dilate as he softly squeezes them in his hands. “Wanna suck on them,” he mumbles. You giggle and tell him to go ahead which he does swiftly. There’s something lethargic about watching him suck and play with your nipples. Even when not in a sexual context, he likes to have you in his mouth absentmindedly. You’re starting to think it’s become a comfort thing for him. He looks so at peace. His cold fingers contrast his warm tongue and it only adds to your pleasure. You rock against him harder which causes him to part from your nipples to whine.

“Please- please can I be inside of you? I need it, I’m so full angel please,” he rushes out. “You wanna fill me up baby?” you respond gently, cupping his face with your hands. His doe eyes framed by your fresh set of acrylics is such a pretty sight to see. He nods and whispers another please. He looks so good when he begs. You wish you could take a mental screenshot of this moment.

You get up to discard your shorts and lacy pink panties while he impatiently just tugs his pants and boxers down to his knees. You’ve decided he’s had enough teasing for the night and quickly guide his throbbing length inside your embarrassingly wet pussy. He lets out a sob as you bottom out on him completely. You give yourself a brief second to adjust and let him recuperate from everything that happened in the last 60 seconds or so. You give him a small peck and ask if he’s ready, to which he replies with a soft yes and squeezes your hips for emphasis. With that, you slowly lift your hips and plop back down with a quickness. He’s so fucking big; not only is he long, but he’s slightly thick too. He’s always leaving your poor pussy sore but he fills you so fucking well you can’t find it in you to care. You set a fast pace as you’re overcome with your own need to feel good. You can’t wait for him to cum inside you. The moment you told him you were on birth control and that you were ok with him finishing inside he almost lost his mind. You’ve come accustomed and even excited to feel his love filling you in the most physical way.

His hands grip your hips firmly as he throws his head back and takes the pleasure he’s receiving. You’re squeezing around him tightly and bouncing up and down on him so swiftly, he feels like he’s basking in the glows of heaven. “Ahh ____ you’re gonna milk it out of me fuck,” he moans loudly. His voice tends to heighten in pitch whenever he’s close and his eyes start to water as if he’s on the verge of bursting into tears. This however, only encourages you to get him there quickly. You wanna see tears streak down his face as he releases two weeks’ worth of cum inside of you. You bet he has so much. It might even overflow. With this thought, you move even faster, telling him to keep his eyes on you. “Don’t close your eyes baby, I wanna see those pretty eyes when you cum inside me ok?” you tell him. He tries his hardest to keep his eyes open, but the tears in his eyes cloud his vision. He blinks profusely in an attempt to clear them. He wants you to be the only thing he sees. He’s gonna cum any second now. It feels too good, you’re overwhelming his senses and he can’t hold it anymore. “____! I- fuck I’m cumming I’m cumming I”m sorry I can’t hold it,” his revere breaks as you feel spurts of warm cum release deep in your heat. You gasp and furrow your brows as you halt your movement. Pleasure racks through both of your bodies as you both cum together. You rock your hips back and forth to ride it out but it only causes him to whine loudly in overstimulation. He wants to go again. He still has more to give you.

“Keep going please I still have more,” he says breathily. Unfortunately for him, you are far too tired to keep riding him. Your legs are sore and you’ve frankly overexerted yourself. ‘Maybe I should take up on his offers on going to the gym,’ you think offhandedly. You place your head next to his ear and pant, “Fuck me baby, c’mon. Do whatever you want.” It’s almost as if a flip switches in his brain as he’s given permission to fuck you in any way he pleases. At this, he grips his hips and lifts you up slightly to pound his cock into you. His balls slap against your soft pussy as he sets a quick pace. You feel like a little doll with the way he fucks into you. You can’t help but notice that even when he’s fucking you like this, manhandling you into any position he wants, he’s still whining and looking at you with complete and utter adoration. He pulls you in to give you a sloppy kiss as he cums for the second time that night. He moans into your mouth as you feel the tears that seem to continuously fall from his eyes on your cheeks. He pulls away to give you both a chance to breathe.

His forehead rests against yours as he gasps for breath. You feel his cock twitch inside of you. “Kookie..are you still-” you stop yourself as he buries his head into your chest and cries. “M’ sorry I just- I missed you so much. I’ve been wanting this so bad angel. I just wanna fuck you over and over again. I’ve been saving it all for you. Just like you told me to,” he sobs into you. Your poor baby, he’s been suffering more than you thought he has. You wonder how he would’ve coped had you not have added the dumb “no touching yourself” to your little challenge. Probably by stroking himself to the thought of you every night. You clench at the thought. He lifts his head with widened eyes. You didn’t cum! And he did! How selfish could he be? He gently lifts you off of him and lays you back on the couch. He gives you a big, loving kiss and makes his way downwards. “Wait! Not on the couch, this shit is hard to clean,” you hurriedly say. He smiles bashfully and picks you up to carry you to your room.

It’s like you weigh nothing to him, a sentiment that makes you blush and giggle into his neck. He smiles and pecks your head before he flops you down on your soft sheets (that’ll definitely need to be washed thoroughly once he’s done with you). He gets down on his knees and looks up at you. You are nothing but a goddess in his eyes. The love of his life. He’ll do anything for you. You stare back at him and card your nails through his hair, gazing at him tenderly. This is exactly how it should be. Him on his knees staring up at you in awe, and you, pushing his head straight to your cum-filled pussy. You’d laugh if he didn’t instantly wrap his lips around your swollen clit.

He runs his tongue up and down your cunt, cleaning it the best he can whilst simultaneously trying to get you to climax on his tongue. He fucks his tongue into you as he brings his chilly fingers to your clit. You yelp and moan loudly. “Fuck yes, just like that baby. That’s so good,” you praise. His bright eyes look up at you as he rubs your slick bud in circular motions, his tongue never stopping its pace inside. He parts from between your thighs briefly to whisper to you “Please cum for me angel. Wanna make you feel good,” and goes back to eating you with intent. That does it for you, you see a burst of white behind your eyelids as you cum messily on his face. This has got to be the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had, as you can’t stop shaking and trembling. He kisses your shaky thighs and caresses them softly to bring you back down.

He kisses his way back up to your face to check if you’re ok. “You alright?” he asks delicately. He pecks all over your face as he sees you slowly but surely come back to him. When your eyes flutter open, you’re shocked to see that his face is drenched. “Did I…,” he smiles brightly and nods. “I made you squirt angel,” he says with a grin. He’s lucky he’s cute, otherwise you’d be extremely annoyed with his cockiness. He looks so proud of himself though, so you’ll let it slide this one time. While you’d love to just pass out and deal with the mess later, you can’t help but notice the incessant hardness poking your stomach. “One more?” you question. He pouts once more and nods with pleading eyes. “Just one more, I promise,” he says. You relent and turn over on your stomach, maybe if he goes easy on you, you can even rest a little while he reaches his peak. But this is Jungkook, of course that’s not going to happen.

He grips your hips and hikes your ass up to get you into just the position he wants. He’s kind enough to put a pillow underneath you so as to not strain your back as much. The tip of his cock has been leaking ever since he got on his knees to eat your pretty pussy that he loves, and the throbbing was starting to become painful. He runs his dick through your folds to slicken himself up and whimpers when the tip catches onto your slit. With a soft kiss to your back, he thrust himself inside. Since he’s eaten you and stretched you so thoroughly, there’s no need for you to adjust, so he starts jackhammering into your cunt right away. He still feels so full, he loves the sound of his fat balls pounding away your plush little pussy. When he feels this good, he can’t seem to keep quiet.

“Mmmm this is so good, so fucking good. I’m so sorry baby, I can’t stop. I wanna fill you over and over. Look so pretty with my cum stuffed inside of you,” and here come the waterworks. He’s so sensitive, fucking you like this almost hurts. But he can’t stop, not until he’s completely empty. His thrusts are nothing short of quick and concise. He loves when you let him use you like this. Nothing but sounds of your wetness, his balls pattering against your bud, and the sounds of your combined moans run throughout the small apartment. You’re definitely gonna get another noise complaint.

“Baby, you can slow down it’s ok, don’t overwork yourself,” you plead. His tears almost make you want to stop him altogether and give him a chance to calm down. Jungkook, on the other hand, has no intentions on stopping. “No! I can’t, I need to keep going! Please don’t make me stop I wanna cum again please please please,” he sobs. He’s so close, he can feel it swirling in his stomach. He just needs a little more and then he can finally milk all the cum he’s been saving for you out of him. You, incidentally, are close to cumming too. In fact, you’re learning that this feeling you’re experiencing is that you’re about to squirt again. “Koo- oh my god, I- baby I’m gonna-” you stumble. “Me too, me too, fuck. Let go angel, make a mess on me again,” he rushes out as his thrusts increase. He spits on his fingers and runs them along your hard little bud. You try to muffle your scream into your pillows as you release all over his chest and your sheets. Seeing and feeling you squirt all over him causes him to reach his climax as well. He pumps every last bit of cum that he has inside your battered pussy as he thanks you profusely. Just as you expected, it overflows and drips back down your thighs. Jungkook collapses as softly as he can on top of you as you both breathe heavily. His cock finally softens and he reluctantly pulls it out as gently as he can.

As he heavily plops himself down next to you, he sees that you’ve knocked out, already snoring lightly. He chuckles and pulls you into his chest. “Thank you angel. I love you, so so much,” he whispers. This is exactly what he wanted for Christmas. You safe in his arms and full of his cum.

#sub!jungkook #sub!jungkook x dom!reader #jungkook x reader smut #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #switch!jungkook

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voidartisan · 7 months

Text

playing around with an incorrect quote generator and came up with some gems

Ahsoka: Why are you late? Obi-Wan: A technical error occurred, causing an unexpectedly long bout of unconsciousness. Ahsoka: Overslept? Obi-Wan: Overslept.

Ahsoka: I am the most responsible person in the group. Obi-Wan: …You just set the kitchen on fire. Ahsoka: Yes, and I take full responsibility for that.

Obi-Wan: Ahsoka, why are you crying? Ahsoka: This book is so sad!! Obi-Wan, picking it up: But this is my diary-

Crosshair: What, in the name of sanity, have you got on your head? Tech: It's a fez, I wear a fez now. Fezzes are cool. Wrecker: *snatches the fez, throws it in the air* Crosshair: *shoots it*

Tech: Do we have any orange juice left? Crosshair: *pours the remaining juice into his cup* Crosshair: Sorry, we’re all out.

Crosshair: There’s no “I” in team, but there is one in pizza. Tech: So, you’re not going to share? Crosshair: I’m not going to share.

Omega: We’re kind of missing something guys. Echo: Cohesion? Crosshair: Teamwork? Tech: A general sense of what we’re doing? Hunter: And Wrecker is not here. Echo: Oh, and that, yeah.

Hunter: This is a judgement free zone. *Pulls out a knife the size of his forearm* Hunter: And I mean it.

Echo: Are you mad? Hunter: No. Echo: So sharpening your knives at 3 in the morning is just a hobby?

Fox: You are the love of my life and I would do anything within reason to make you happy. Riyo: I would be happy if you ate, stayed hydrated and got a reasonable amount of sleep. Fox: I said within reason, Riyo. How about I murder that guy? Riyo: So murder is in reason but proper self care isn't? Fox: Well, duh. What kind of question is that?

Fox: Hey, random question, what are your favorite flowers? Riyo: Peonies, why? Fox: Riyo: Were you going to get me flowers? Fox: Riyo: Fox: ᶦᵗ’ˢ ᵃ ᵖᵒˢˢᶦᵇᶦˡᶦᵗʸ

Fox: Riyo and I are no longer dating. Riyo: Fox, that’s a horrible way of telling people we’re married.

Satine : I want to kiss you. Obi-Wan, not paying attention: What? Satine : I said if you die, I wont miss you.

Satine : I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No response. Obi-Wan: Wow. They sound stupid. Satine : But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just dense. Obi-Wan: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!” Satine : I guess you’re right. Hey Obi-Wan, I love you. Obi-Wan: See! Just say that! Satine : Obi-Wan: If that flies over their head then, sorry Satine , but they're too dumb for you. Satine : Obi-Wan.

Satine : I think I'm falling for you. Obi-Wan: Then get up.

Cody : You have an impressive pain tolerance. Obi-Wan: Thanks, it's the trauma.

Cody , holding an unconscious Obi-Wan: Oh no. Please don’t be dead.

Obi-Wan: You know what? Let’s give it a go. What’s the worst that could happen? Cody : Humiliation, embarrassment, fire, explosions, collisions, tears, nudity and death.

Obi-Wan: Turns on the kitchen light Cody : Sitting at the table, eating bread Obi-Wan: It’s four in the morning. Cody : Turn the light back off.

Rex: Are you alright? Ahsoka: Short answer or long answer? Rex: Short? Ahsoka: No. Rex: Long? Ahsoka: Nooooooo.

Rex: I found a note in one of my old word .docs that said Note to self: Get revenge on Ahsoka. Rex: Except I couldn't remember what I was supposed to get revenge for. Rex: But I trusted my own judgment, so I went with it. Ahsoka: Hmm… I don't know what you were supposed to get revenge for, either. Rex: I can only assume you got what was coming to you. Not 100 percent sure, though. Ahsoka: Well, whatever I did, I guess I deserved it. Rex: Let that possibly be a lesson to you.

Rex: My goal is not to be the best, but to inspire someone enough to one day surpass me. Ahsoka: YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THAT EVERY TIME YOU BEAT ME AT CONNECT FOUR!

Rex: I'm going to ask you to be respectful. Ahsoka: I will politely decline.

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binsito · 5 months

Note

I loved your idea of hannie with his nail tech crush.. yk what i think though? OBVIOUSLY the nailtech kinda knows abt this little crush of his. She doesnt know how severe it is but she does notice the way he blushes slightly when she compliments his hands, or the way his eyes sparkle when she finally giggles at one of his jokes. Also who am i kidding the nail tech obviously ALSO finds hannie v v cute and v v hot bc,,,, he's hannie??? He's charming and handsome and he keeps his fingernails clean soooo maybe the next time he comes around, and she is feeling a little frustrated bc her own hands aren't enough fun for her.. she'll hint at wanting his fingers inside of her? Maybe she'll be kinda distracted and shy this tine or maybe she's bold and just straight up teases him by saying things that could be considered dirty but also might just be his pervy mind interpreting the wrong thing. Aaa idk i'm not a writer but yourw giving my head THOUGHTS

OHHHH MYGOD. thank god you left this ask bc i was dying to write more for this JASHDJA

warning: fingering, hand worshipping, swearing, slight perv!han jisung, lmk if i missed anything but it's pretty tame

wc: 914

hannie has to act normal.

hannie has to be cool.

hannie has to act like he doesn't go home after every appointment and edges his cock thinking about how nice it would be to have your lips wrapped around his tip.

so when he walks into the salon, straight into your suite and takes a seat at your chair - he makes a mental promise to himself that:

he. will. not. get. hard.

he won't get hard if you hold his hands, it's all part of your job.

he won't get hard if you smooth lotion on him, it's just a courtesy.

he won't get hard if you compliment his nails, they're only pretty because you made them pretty.

"hannie do you even put your fingers to use?"

what?

"you come here so often and yet they're rarely chipped or overgrown. you must not lift a finger." you smile.

oh.

he felt so stupid, of course he read into it in such a dumb, perverted way.

"you must take good care of yourself hm?"

fuck.

why couldn't he be normal? why couldn't he just have nice, clean thoughts? why was he getting hard? why couldn't he just keep his promise?

"your hands are always soft. i wish i had nice fingers like you. they're long and pretty.."

he clears his throat and laughs awkwardly. he was being such a loser.

"oh yeah.. they're definitely long, alright.. hah.." he says

who the fuck says that?

he literally wanted the ground to eat him up.

"yeah, they are. longer than mine." you giggle as you work on his polish.

"yeah.. way longer.."

and why he kept going? only god knows, but he definitely noticed your face flushing (and was he crazy or were you pressing your legs tightly together under the table?)

hannie doesn't think he's ever seen you this quiet, this concentrated on his hands before. after the conversation died out, there was no other topic to bounce off of. and normally han jisung would just start talking about random shit, would tell you your hair looked pretty or that he noticed your subtle eye makeup and that it looked nice.

but not now.

not today.

"hannie have you ever had problems reaching things with your fingers? i-it could just be because mine aren't as long as yours but.. you know they're never quite enough to reach."

"oh uh.. n-no but do you need help reaching something? i could help.."

"could you really? that's so sweet of you, hannie.." your smile could melt him into a puddle. you smile at him so sweetly, just for him and han jisung can't really handle that well.

"so what is it you need help with? something too high up or-"

"well.. i just can't seem to cum. doing your nails frustrates me so much. they look so nice so why can't i have them inside of me?" you pout at him.

the wind feels like it was knocked out of him. he thanks god that you have your own little suite and no one else was around to hear that.

"f-fuck, are you serious? holy shit, why didn't you say something sooner?"

"well because i'm a little shy and because i wanted to finish doing your set first, of course..

you really mean it though? will you actually help me?"

"yes.. fuck, yes i'll help you."

his eagerness was cute. unluckily for him, he still had to wait for you to cure his gel polish. his leg bouncing impatiently as you gave him a look to quit it.

he smiled shyly and let out a nervous chuckle as he tried to contain himself. once you were done, he damn near jumped out of his chair towards you. you put some of your supplies away and walked past him to lock the door. as soon as he felt the coast was clear and no one would walk in, he grabbed you - kissing you deeply and pressing you against his lean body.

it was an intense kiss, full of want and desire but you welcomed it because you had been feeling the same way. you pulled away slightly to grab his wrist, bringing it up towards your mouth so you could take two of his freshly manicured fingers in between your lips.

you made sure to get them nice and wet, saliva connecting them to the tip of your tongue when you pulled them out.

han jisung felt weak.

he found himself pressing you against the nearest wall, your pants long forgotten as he pumped his fingers inside you, finally leaving you fuller than your fingers ever could.

the pads of his fingers massaged your gummy spot and curled against it making your knees buckle. it was all too perfect and better than you could ever imagine. you knew the orgasm he was going to pull from you was going to be intense. you felt it bubbling up already and he hadn't even been touching you for long.

but when he brings his other hand forward to rub at your clit and you look down to catch a peek of his baby blue nails, you lose yourself to him and feel yourself cream around his fingers. clenching your cunt tightly against them, not wanting him to ever pull out.

however when he does pull out, he makes sure to have you watch as he sucks your essence off his fingers. rolling his eyes back at the taste and humming in satisfaction.

please refrain from reposting, modifying, translating, copying or stealing my work. - © binsito

#binsito #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz hard thoughts #skz x reader #💌 : binsito #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #han smut #skz han #han : binsito

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luvergirl777 · 6 months

Text

If Not With You - N.S

Pairing | Neteyam Sully x Human Reader

Word Count | 19k, whoops.

Genre | Acquaintances to lovers? Fluff, they're both dumb and can't drop a hint to save their life, SMUT.

Summary | Neteyam never understood you, and he doesn't think he ever will. Your skin is a different color than his, you're a solid 5 feet shorter than him, your native language is different than his, he could go on forever. He doesn't think he'll ever understand, until he watches you struggle with a knife for 10 minutes and graciously offers his services to you. Suddenly, he's bitten off more than he realizes.

Index | Bickering back and forth, the reader takes every chance she can get to be snarky, Neteyam does too though, purring Neteyam, two idiots in love, smut, creampie, soft!dom Neteyam (service dom kind of), a brief mention of breeding lol. Let me know if I missed anything that should be noted!

You confuse Neteyam in almost all aspects of your being. You’re human, so painfully alien as you run around the high grounds, scurrying to climb around the home tree to the best of your ability, scurrying to provide his grandmother with herbs for the wounded. So painfully human as you sit on the ground, weaving clothes 3 times your size for protection for warriors during time of battle. Painfully human as you cling to Kiri’s ikran (it’s the “least scary” you say) when you join foraging trips, not used to flying. And so painfully human despite having an Avatar sleeping less than 20 feet away, perfectly fine and ready to be used. His father had mentioned something about you not feeling comfortable or welcomed in your avatar body, not taught how to use it properly yet, somehow feeling more accepted as a human.

You’ve lived your entire life here as a human, mostly. You were given your avatar more recently within the last couple of years, the Avatar taking a while to fully grow and become yours. Still, he’s maybe only seen it once. You wear the clothes, join the songs, dance in the festivals, forage and gather, weave, fish, help the wounded, everything you can physically do, you do. Because of your size, you sometimes struggle with preparing, gathering, and foraging through the forest. It takes you much more effort and time to scale fallen logs and rocks than others. It’s never made any sense, it still doesn’t to him. As you prepare a sturmbeest with some of the others for tonight’s meal, you bewilder him even more.

“Here, let me help you.” Neteyam offers quickly as he sees you struggling to cut. He's afraid you’re going to slip and hurt yourself, the effort it takes to cut makes your hands shake where they hold your blade. It would be no issue in your avatar body, he’s sure of it but he doesn’t bring it up. After cutting through the hard part, he’s quick to hand you back the small knife to avoid taking over your village duty. “You know if-“

“If I was in my Avatar body I’d be able to do it?” You finish his sentence, glancing up at him. While you quickly divert your gaze, he catches the small look of shame you have before you return to the task that requires all your attention.

“No, no. I was going to say if you need help, you can just call again.” He smiles, shaking his head softly. At this, you can’t help but jokingly scoff at him.

“But you were thinking about it.”

“Hmmm, I was not! You have no proof.”

“That’s how everyone thinks, it’s fine to admit it Neteyam.” You chuckle, resuming your complete focus on the sturmbeest you’re more determined than ever to cut up now thanks to him. “Plus, shouldn’t you be preparing for the meal? Making sure everyone is accounted for and what not.” You're essentially telling him to get back to his tasks.

“I am, making sure you’re accounted for. The way you’re wielding that knife I'm afraid you’ll go missing.” He teases you, pointing out the amount of effort you’re using to cut through the meat. “Also, if you don’t mind me asking since you brought it up, FYI, why aren’t you in your Avatar?”

You sigh, and for a brief moment Neteyam thinks he’s overstepped his welcome. “No one really taught me how to use it. I suppose it’s all the same mechanics as controlling myself, but to an extent I don't feel connected. Your father said he felt the same at first, and offered to teach me but got busy with olo'eyktan duties, which is understandable. I haven't felt comfortable enough to ask him, it takes a lot of time that I'm sure he doesn’t have, you know?”

“I can help you.” Neteyam offers before he has a chance to rethink it.

“I think you’re also too busy, future olo'eyktan .” You turn your attention to him for a brief moment before resuming. “Plus, it’s not the culture or village life. I've grown up here, I understand that much. It’s the connection, and being in my body. I don't think you’d understand what I mean.”

“I think you just need practice in a safe area where you don't have to worry. I can be your lookout while you get used to your body, who better than me?” Neteyam’s confidence grows as he offers you his gracious services. His smirk threatens to fall a bit as you glare up at him, but he’s determined to convince you regardless.

“Your dad.” He interrupts your train of thought with a pained expression, making you giggle. “But I suppose since he’s unavailable, you’re the next best option.”

“Ouch.” He jokes, placing a hand over his heart. “So we'll start tomorrow, little human?” He cheekily adds, beginning to step away from you to return to his head counting job.

He smiles softly as you stick your tongue at him, turning back to finish your job as well. His heart beats hard in his chest, his adrenaline slowly beginning to run off as he checks to make sure everything is going as it should. As he sits next to his mother, the slight panic begins to settle in as he waits for you to join the feast.

His mother notices the odd, out of place, anxious energy from her son. He’s not usually like this, his demeanor is off. “Neteyam?” She asks, nudging him softly.

Neteyam faces her with more confidence now, attempting to get his mood back. “Yes, mother?”

“Are you feeling okay?” She reaches out for a brief moment, pressing her hand against his forehead. At this, he smiles softly before pushing her hand away by the wrist. She smiles softly at him, returning to talking to the others. Small cheers erupt as everyone begins to bring in the food, carrying trays and trays of food. He catches a small glimpse of you, following behind the others carrying trays. You’re not carrying anything, preoccupied with cleaning your knife before placing it back on your hip. You settle down behind most of the others, allowing others to get their food before you. He’s extremely observant of you now, he always has been, but it’s even more now.

Dinner goes by as always, everyone talking, joking, telling stories with one another. You conversate every now and then, happily listening to stories that the other villagers tell you about hunts and raids they have been on. He feels hyper aware of your presence now, watching as a tail jokingly wraps around your waist and knocks you off balance. You smile, jokingly hitting the other people while saying something he can't pick up. Your smile is pretty, so pretty.

It almost feels impossible tearing his eyes away, but eventually he does. He begins to actually engage in his family conversation, listening to his mother and fathers stories. He can't wait for the next day to come, fighting to fall asleep. It feels like hours before he dozes off.

Neteyam is grabbed by his father before he can actually slip away, a firm hand on his shoulder stopping all of his momentum. “Where are you off to?” His father asks, tugging slightly to turn him around to face him. Neteyam groans in his head, tail flicking slightly behind him. His ears quickly pin down as a reflex.

“To the labs.” He answers plainly, hoping his father just lets him go with no further questioning. It’s all hopeful thinking, he knows that he will be questioned further. He wants to go, you’re probably waiting for him there now. You’re always on time, never keeping anyone else waiting on you for too long.

“For what? Are you not coming on watch today?” Jake asks, the grip on his shoulder tightening slightly. Neteyams ears flatten further, tail flicking more aggressively.

“I promised someone I would help them in the lab.” Neteyam answers. “I will be back later today.”

“Later today?!” Jake asks, releasing him in return for putting his hands on his hips. At the commotion, Neytiri comes out to see what’s going on. Jake gives her the rundown, “He is skipping watch to help the labs.” At this, Neteyam groans softly, the description not at all accurate or reflecting him.

“Sa’nok,” Neteyam mumbles softly, “I promised,”

“He hasn’t missed a watch in weeks.” Neytiri points out. “He’s also helping someone, he doesn’t need to come on every watch. Go, Neteyam.”

At this, he bows softly before hightailing it out of the area as quickly as possible. He thanks Eywa for his mother intervening, moving as quickly as possible to get to the labs. Sure enough, you’re waiting for him inside. You seem agitated already, sitting on one of the tables as you swing your legs back and forth. He’s quickly apologizing for keeping you waiting, explaining his situation as quickly as possible.

“It’s okay, Nete.” You shrug, hopping down and walking over to the pods, known as link units. “Are you sure you want to do this? I’m gonna look like a baby deer and complain the entire time.” You whine, trying to convince him otherwise.

“Are you trying to get me not to, or do you not want to? It sounds like you don’t want to.”

“I’m scared.” You admit, sighing softly. Neteyam offers a solemn expression, encouraging you softly as he pops open the link pod. He helps you climb in, offering a hand as you hop backwards into the memory foam. The beads on your chest cover clink loudly at the momentum, filling the otherwise silent lab. Max enters the lab, late, but still there. You trust him the most to help you link and check all of your vitals, others making you too nervous.

“I’m going to come and get you once I make sure you link, where is your Avatar?” Neteyam asks as you lay down, holding the top of the pod as he leans down to talk with you. Your breathing is irregular, nerves shaking you to your cure. “I will be there, Y/n, to get you. I’ll be there for every step.”

“My Avatar is all the way at the high camp.” You tell him, “I’ll wait for you though.”

“I’ll be there, as fast as possible.” He ensures you, stepping away to let Max do his job to link you to your Avatar. Neteyam fiddles with the oxygen mask around his neck, playing with the strings as he watches you get settled in. As the pod closes, he turns to the screens that show your vitals. Your breathing is increased, but Max explains that’s to be expected when someone hasn’t linked for a while, “Normal nerves,” He calls them.

“She should be in, I would hurry to make sure she's not freaking out.” And Neteyam does. He doesn’t think he’s ever flown as fast before, his ikran cutting through the air. He gets to high camp as fast as possible, running to the Avatar sleeping area. You’re sitting up, playing with your hands as you wait for him.

“Y/n! Look at you! You look like me.” Neteyam beams happily, running over to you. He helps you up, offering his hand as you stand. You stand easily, but still have a look of uneasiness written across your face. He notices your ears remain down, pinned back with worry. Every now and then, they’ll perk up for the briefest moment before going back. Cute. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I feel fine, I just think I'm a bit hungry since I haven't been in this body for a while.” You explain, beginning to walk through the Avatar area. Your Avatar reminds him of his siblings, five fingers and toes, eyebrows, etc. You’re walking fine, a bit wobbly on certain areas of uneven terrain, checking a couple of times behind you to make sure he’s close. The camp is busy as always, people running around to fulfill their duties. You navigate the commotion easily though, heading over to the edge of the base.

“Are you okay to fly?” Neteyam asks, clicking and calling out to his ikran. You nod, shakily, but still saying yes. His ikran is quick to land on the rocks, calming down as Neteyam connects his tswin and readies to mount. He gets on first, reaching to grab your hand and help you sling your leg over. “You can use the saddle and the hold here.” Neteyam speaks, guiding you to sit. He reaches around you, holding your hand and wrapping it around the leather hold. The strong animal flaps his wings underneath you, making your nerves set in as you already begin slipping off to one side.

“You’re okay, It’ll get easier once he’s moving.” He reassures you, using one arm to wrap around your waist, pulling you back upright. A small blush spreads across your face, your bodies extremely close to one another as he’s focused on your well-being.

“What about you? Are you going to be okay with flying?” You ask, seeing as he has no secure hold. He’s not using the saddle, nor the holds.

“Yes, I will be okay.” He reassures, holding where his tswin is connected. You trust him, and you trust his ability to fly more than anyone else. Even still, nerves bubble in your chest. “I’ll fly as carefully as possible for you, just hold on, okay?”

“Yes, I will.” You nod, tightening the hold on the leather underneath your palms. Even though you prepared yourself, the shriek that leaves your body as his ikran drops is involuntary. You can hear Neteyam’s faint chuckle in your ear, leaning forward as he guides his ikran. His hair brushes along your shoulder as he leans forward, goosebumps spreading across your arms. His arm tightens the slightest bit around your waist, ensuring you don’t lean too far forward and lose your balance. “Where are we heading?” You yell over your shoulder, the wind loud in your ears.

“To find you something to eat!” Neteyam calls back, “We’ll be walking around the forest, give you some time to get used to your body without anyone else being around to pressure you.”

You nod, looking forward to observe where you’re going. Neteyam flies as smoothly as possible for you, communicating to his ikran to stay calm as much as possible. The forest is extremely dense, flying through the trees and hanging vines with expert skill. Neteyam once again chuckles as he sees your grip tighten, both on the leather hold and your legs where they squeeze his ikran for purchase. Landing, the jungle is dense as he hops down.

You land right after, the grass underneath your feet soft and plush. “Are we finding fruit?” You smile, beginning to trail off from him. Neteyam has to hide the smile, unconnecting as he dismisses his Seze. The grass is so soft underneath your feet, each step cushiony. You’re good at foraging, using all your skills and knowledge you’ve learned over the years. “Here, Nete,” You smile softly, handing him two fruits. Neteyam becomes your Navi basket, arms carrying everything you collect. He's more than happy to follow you around, eventually coaxing you to come sit once you’ve got enough.

“You need to eat,” Neteyam says, soft but firm as he begins making his way to the river. He finds a soft area of grass, plopping down before softly letting the fruits follow. You join, watching Neteyam carefully as he dips the fruits into the river, cleaning them before handing them over with a big smile. “They’ll taste even better in this body,” He almost promises.

And they do. They genuinely do.Your taste buds are alive and so heightened, a small smile pulling at the corner of your lips as you eat. “It’s good,” You grin, devouring the fruits that your body so desperately needs, gaining some semblance of energy back.

“Do you still feel okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s still weird, I know it’s me, but it doesn’t feel like me. Moving is weird, everything is a conscious effort.” You try to explain to him.

“Does that include your ears being down?” He asks, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he teases softly. “It's cute, don’t get me wrong, but not normal.”

Once again, you have to consciously pull your ears up like the natural position they’re held at. When you forget, they fall back down. Neteyam pins his ears, signaling to you that you’re doing it again. It works perfectly, your ears perking up once more.

“See? It’s too hard.” You smile, “We should just go back, say we tried hard.” You plead, making him laugh. You know he’d never, too much determination and pride in his chest to ever allow it.

“You just need more time in this body, I’m sure of it.” Neteyam answers, shaking his head no as you whine. “We haven’t even got you running yet.”

At this you groan, flopping backwards on the soft grass as you complain. You quickly get lost in it, the ground so soft, the sun so warm on your skin. It's comforting, much needed vitamin D.

Despite ALL of your complaining, which was a lot, your body does prove more efficient than your human body. It moves through the terrain easier, scales the rocks and jumps over the fallen trees with no problem, runs as if it was made to do only that. Climbing was nothing you've ever wanted to do until now, and you find yourself playing in the trees like a child again. Climbing as a human is too hard, but this is easy, so it’s FUN.

“Neteyam! You’re not joining!” You call from treetop, Neteyam watching carefully from the ground. He follows along when you stray too far, watching with careful eyes. It's endearing, how careful he is.

“It's okay, you’re doing great!” He calls happily.

You take it as enough confirmation that he’s okay with what’s happening, you having fun while he remains down there. Soon enough, he’s running on the ground to keep up with you. Not that he minds, he has the stamina for it. “Are you having fun!?” He happily calls, splashing through a shallow river as he follows you.

“Yes! This is amazing,” You answer before beginning to come down. Your hands and feet are sore, unused to the rough nature of aggressive use. You don’t pay much attention, joining Neteyam in the cool water of the river, finding some relief. “It's nice, feels nice.”

Neteyam fights off the urge to say “I told you so,” instead providing you with encouraging praise. Neteyam wants to teach you everything, he almost itches for it. He's already making a list in his head of everything he could offer you that you don’t know in this body.

Hunting, riding, flying, swimming, scaling home tree, fighting if you’d like, archery. You know how to weave, arguably better than him, so that’s not something he can claim he taught. Along with foraging and gathering, healing, you also know the dances and songs, and basic craft skills that he can’t claim credit for. But what he can, he will. For today though, he lets you run, and play, and frolic through the grass. He follows you, never losing sight of his surroundings. He'll provide some knowledge here and there, but nothing too crazy.

You’re exhausted as the sun begins to set, leaning against Neteyams seated body. “We should head back,” You mumble, praying he’ll let you go back this time. He agrees, not wanting to stay out too late for the creatures that come out.

“We should, we can eat with the people,” He sees another learning opportunity. He stands, leaving you to support your own weight. You watch as he clicks and calls, his ikran coming down soon after. You can feel the exhaustion from the soon-ride, getting up with a grunt.

“What if I just hold onto you?” It’s a real question, you’re trying to find out if that would be more or less tiring.

“If you'd like,” He blushes the slightest bit as he faces away from you. Neteyam gets on first, now sitting on the saddle and holding the leather hold. He helps you climb behind him, “You still sure?” He asks, double checking with you since you have no secure holds. Your arms wrap tightly around his waist, torsos flush together. You can hold here, and with your legs.

“Yes, this is okay,” It feels slightly unsafe compared to the saddle, but it’s less taxing on your body. You also can’t see much over his frame, but you don’t mind. “Thank you, Neteyam, it’s fun,” You talk with him. Your voice vibrates off him, bouncing off his skin.

“Of course,” He beams even though you can’t see it. You arrive at the home tree soon enough, high in the trees where the ikrans stay. Neteyam leads you to the people for dinner, extremely careful that you don’t lose your balance in the high branches. When you have to hop down a considerable amount, he’s extra careful, going first as an example. He waits each time for you, always ready to catch if he ever needs to. With a relieved breath, he doesn’t need to, and you both make it to dinner without a hitch.

“Sa’nok, Sempul,” Neteyam greets his family, bringing his hand to his forehead. You immediately follow along, greeting the leaders of your clan. “Would you mind Y/n eating with us tonight?”

“Oh, no no it’s okay. I wouldn’t want to intrude-“

“Of course,” Jake smiles happily, genuinely excited to see you in your Avatar body. His hand lands softly onto your shoulder, examining your body. “How’s it feeling?”

“Good! Good. It’s a lot of fun,” You smile, giving him a brief overview of your day spent doing nothing but pushing it. He grins, remembering his own days of running with his body for the first time. He tells you the story, beckoning you to sit with his family as he does so. You do, sitting next to Neteyam and Kiri. You know Kiri well, always working together in the healer's hut with her and Tsahìk.

You know Lo’ak as well, but the two of you don’t talk much besides brief, common interactions. Regardless, you have nothing against him. And Tuk? Tuk is just adorable. You briefly remember gifting her an ikran toy when she was younger, handmade by you. You’re sure she has no recollection of it, much too young. But you don’t mind at all. You all share stories, you mainly listen as you don’t have many that are as exciting as theirs. Neytiri’s intrigue you the most, ears naturally perking up every time she speaks about something.

Neteyam notices, a small smile spreading across his face as he eats. They flatten when silence takes over the conversation, obviously uncomfortable. The night wraps up like always, but Neteyam is sure to check on not only your Avatar, but also your human body. He makes sure both of your forms get to bed safely before he returns to his family's area, settling in.

The days turn into weeks of getting used to your body. Neteyam teaches you everything he can, everything that comes to mind. You’re surprisingly good at archery, but guilt kills you when hunting. Even with the knowledge of clean, respectful kills, it’s not your favorite. Riding also comes natural to you, connecting with Pa’li as if you were born native. You become comfortable in your Avatar body, trusting your body’s movements and mind. You run, scale, leap, climb, crawl, swim, everything as if you were born in this body. As you land clean kill after clean kill, and join in on the hunting festivals, Neteyam begins to push you softly in the direction of iknimaya, taming your ikran.

“Neteyam, it’s scary.” You defend yourself as you prepare meat for tonight’s dinner. Your Avatar body slices through easily, never struggling for more than a couple of moments. “They’re scary.”

“I know, I know.” He sighs, “But-“

“Neteyam, I don’t want to talk about it right now. It’s scary, and I could die.”

“You can die at any time.“ You send him a strong glare, ending the conversation without another word being shared with each other. You’re done talking about it for tonight, placing the meat on a serving platter. You don’t talk about it for a while, going on about your lessons and training, learning more and more each day.

You’re out in the forest, a routine day unfolding. Your body and mind feel like yours, Neteyam also begins to wander away from you further and further. If it comes down to it, you can defend yourself to some extent. He's doing just that when a blood curdling scream rips through the forest, catching his attention immediately. His feet are moving faster than his brain, running.

“NETEYAM!” You scream again, feet remaining planted firm in front of the animal in front of you. Your heartbeat is rapid as you stare down the creature, trying to figure out its next course of action. Stepping a couple of feet back, your fingers immediately begin to reach for the knife that’s secured across your chest. “It’s not moving, Nete. I don’t know what to do.” You speak, more calmly now as the palulukan has made no action to pursue you yet. Still, you unsheathe your knife just in case. It wouldn’t help much if it attacked, but it gives you some peace of mind for the current circumstances.

“Is it not pursuing?” Neteyam asks, and you can hear his faint footsteps running to get to you in the distance. It’s still in the same place it was, still staring at you.

“No! It’s just staring at me!” You yell back, trying to hold your ground as much as possible. Your knees shake the slightest bit, which you try to calm. If you turn and run, you could possibly outsmart it. However, as soon as you turn you’re sure it would immediately begin its pursuit on you. Neteyam eventually finds you, keeping his distance as he accesses the situation as much as possible.

“I know what I’m going to say, you will not like-“

“Nete!”

“I know, I know! But step up to it. Slowly, you’re not pouncing on her, but stepping up.” You want to scream at him, it sounds like a stupid idea. However, you don’t think there’s anyone you trust more with your general well-being than him. “Trust me! If something happens, I'm right behind you, jumping in.”

“You promise?” You never break your eye contact, but you know Neteyam is staring directly at you. Taking a step, you can hear the faint “Promise” that Neteyam mumbles out softly. Another step comes, and the creature still hasn’t moved a single inch from where you were first confronted by it. Now you’re in attacking distance again, if you reached fully out you would surely touch it on the head. For the first time, it moved. It leans down, and it takes everything in your willpower to not start instinctively booking it at the first sign of movement, “Neteyam?”

“Tsaheylu, make the bond. She’s offering to you.” Neteyam explains, stepping a bit closer as the tense environment of the situation has lessened. “It’s okay, she’s submitting to you, Y/n.”

You’re still too afraid to break eye contact to look at Neteyam, your eyes never leaving her as you reach back for your kuru. As soon as the tsaheylu is made, a rush of relief washes over you. “Thank Eywa, thank Eywa,” You mumble, walking to its side and swinging yourself over the animal. Your heartbeat calms down with the animals, and you finally are able to feel her strength and power. She's unlike anything else you've ridden, not a ikran, not pa’li. Once you’re fully bonded, Neteyam feels safe enough to approach.

“Scary?” He giggles, his hand coming to rest on your calf where it sits on the palulukan’s side. You can feel his thumb run across your skin comfortingly, making you smile as you face away from him.

“Just a bit, she feels…kind?” You ask, despite him having no idea. “Her thoughts, her power and strength, is kind?”

“I see, you feel her? You’re getting the hang of this whole, tsaheylu, kuru thing.” He smiles at you, walking behind you and hopping on. Even at the sudden movement, she still doesn’t think of any harm or reaction in a negative manner. You absolutely beam, reaching forward and petting the space at her forehead essentially. “Should I hold on?” Neteyam chuckles behind you.

“Oh yes, 100%. Strong.” Is all you offer him before beginning to move, just walking but still feeling the absolute power she holds.

“I trust you.” Neteyam smiles, leaning forward to wrap his arms around your waist. The contact makes your face flush hot, immediately pushing it away from your thoughts as you begin to run, easily jumping and clearing anything in the forest floor. Once again, it’s a completely different ride than you’re used to, you and Neteyam whooping, laughing, and shrieking when you particularly jerk and almost slide off. Slowing to a stop, you find yourself at the edge of the river. You gently rub her shoulder in warning as you slide off, patting her gently. You break the tsaheylu, watching in case she flees. Instead, she stays, drinks water, settles down with the both of you where you sit on the soft grass.

“What about her family?” You ask Neteyam as if he would know the answer. Neteyam shrugs softly, unsure himself. He has no answer for this, logically.

“She seems to want you more.”

“I see,”

“Y/n, you are more than ready for iknimaya,”

There’s a loud sigh filling the peace of the forest. You hum, finally giving in. “Fine, Neteyam.” You sigh, watching as the thanator creeps towards you, laying down next to where you’re seated. “I’ll complete my iknimaya.” You nod, finalizing your statement.

“The next trip is in one week,”

You nod. You have one week to fully prepare yourself and the people around you. If anything, you’ll retreat at the first sign you can’t do it. Still, you dread the trip.

You and Neteyam decide not to bring your thanator back, scared of the commotion she may cause. You promise to return to her in the forest in the opening you met at, bidding her goodbye in the meantime. With one final reassuring pet, she runs off.

The days creep by, anxiety beginning to find its hold over you for your upcoming rite of passage completion.

“It's my day off from lessons, Neteyam!” You poke your tongue out at him as he peels open your hammock, giving you no other option but to fully wake up. The hammock, suspended on two branches of the home tree, sways hazardously as he kneels down. He's almost, he is, towering over your human form like this, poking and prodding you until you get up.

“Just because it’s your day off doesn’t mean we can’t hang out. What, I have to make reservations now?” Neteyam jokes, beaming at you as you finally rise, easily jumping onto a nearby branch to get going. Even as you stretch out completely, he’s a solid 3 feet taller than you still. “I was thinking we can just chill today, though. Nothing crazy, no village duties.”

“Your father let you off village duties?”

“Well no, but-“

“He’s gonna end up hating me.” It’s half joking, half not. You stop walking, instead turning around to face him. “Go back,” You chuckle, pushing Neteyam’s stomach. There’s enough force for little imprints to appear in his skin, but not nearly enough to move the giant. “I'm serious, he’s gonna start blaming me for you being absent all the time.”

“Hmmm,” Neteyam pretends to think for a moment, tapping his bottom lip. “No.” Before you have a chance to react, Neteyam easily grabs both of your wrists in one palm. With one easy motion, you’re being swung through the air before landing on his back. He chuckles as you smack his shoulder for endangering your life like that, swinging you over the open area of the home tree sleeping area. (Even though you know he’d never drop you, even accidentally.) “C’mon, don’t worry about him. I'll be the one answering anyway.”

“I’m serious, you’re gonna get yourself in trouble. Like Lo’ak.” You chuckle, and he scoffs at the accusations.

“Never in a million years,” While the two of you talk, Neteyam easily scales the home tree and arrives at the ikrans in no time at all. “Plus, we can’t get in trouble if he can’t find me.”

“This is stupid, and you know it.” You smile hard despite all your scolding, a specialness filling your chest that Neteyam would want to spend your days with you, even though it meant trouble for him. Once again, he nonchalantly shakes his head before calling down his ikran, quickly calming her for your sake.

“Come on, we only have all day.” He jokes, offering his palm for you to climb up. You still hate flying, especially as a human just because of the size and how scary trying to hold on is. (Balance isn’t your thing and Neteyam is basically an expert flyer, aka, crazy ass flyer.) Still, you suck it up as he takes you to your destination. It's a familiar area, pretty river, pretty flowers, and nearby fruit trees that you’re for sure going to devour when the time comes.

You beam, hopping down before Neteyam and running over to dip your feet in the clear water. If Neteyams is lucky, you won’t start a water fight the moment he walks over. He approaches with caution, attacked one too many times to not be. Even as no attack ensures, he’s still sure to sit down carefully in case there’s some other sneak attack waiting around the corner.

Instead, you both sit and watch the water for a bit. It’s a comfortable silence, a shared one at that. “I made you something.” You speak softly, finally breaking the silence, nerves flashing across your face when Neteyam doesn’t look over right away. “Just a small thing, nothing serious.”

“Sorry, the fish over there- you were saying?”

“I made you something.”

“No, no-“

“It’s already made, it’d be rude to not accept it.” You chuckle, beginning to dig through your medicinal pouch (That’s supposed to be used for plants and herbs.) Neteyam watches carefully as you pull out a riding visor, carefully braided and woven to very little details. The small wings that make up the visor are in perfect condition, not even a small crack on them.

“I know you have one, but I feel bad about the wings I broke on it.” You chuckle, handing it over to him. You were once riding with him in your human form and felt uneasy. As you slipped off to one side, you instinctively reached up to him, breaking the fragile protective wings on his visor. As you place it in his hands, your hands linger against one another’s for just a moment too long before you pull away. “And one more thing.”

“You shouldn’t have-“

“I wanted to, Neteyam. In my free time, or days where we couldn’t practice because you had work.” You interrupt him, watching the soft smile slowly spread across his face. “This is your last gift, so don’t get all excited, it’s nothing crazy.”

“I will get excited, it’s from you.” Neteyam hums softly, watching as you prepare to present your gift.

“Shut your eyes, don’t open until I say.”

“How is that fair!”

“Warriors honor!! Shut your eyes!” You giggle loudly, standing up next to Neteyam. You’re not much taller than him even when he sits, but neither of you mention it. “No peeking, or else I'm taking it back.”

“Fineee,” He sighs, finally following along with your shenanigans. Finally, you pull out your gift. It’s a simple necklace in theory, however you modeled its design after traditional warrior necklaces that have gone out of trend in recent years. Small goosebumps spread across Neteyam’s skin as your fingertips graze his skin, jumping slightly as you gently move his kuru.

“Sorry, sorry.” You quickly apologize, watching as the goosebumps spread across his nape. You didn’t even think before you did it, out of instinct. You finish quickly after that, wanting to put some distance in between you two. “Look in the water.”

He does, a giant smile spread across his face when he finds your eyes again. “You made this for me?”

“Of course, who else?” You giggle, reaching out to run your fingers across the beads. Neteyam catches your forearm before you have a chance to move away once more, accidentally jerking you forward into his arms. You land with a huff, Neteyam quickly wrapping you in his embrace. So small compared to him, fitting in his arms like nothing at all. Your skin is so soft against his, his fingertips easily making small indents in your arms where he holds you close.

“Thank you Y/n.” Neteyam mumbles softly, eyes falling shut as he gets lost in holding you, your scent, your voice. His eyes peel open the slightest bit as you begin to shuffle, preparing to release you as soon as you make a move to. Instead, you’re reaching up, wrapping your arms around his neck as you hug him close. Your knees are resting on his thighs, having to kneel in order to even reach. He can feel your beaded top against his chest, feel your heartbeat if he focuses hard enough on it. He’s sure you can feel his too, now beating a million miles a second.

“Of course, a warrior necklace for a mighty warrior,” You mumble, almost directly into his ear unintentionally, goosebumps spreading all along his body. He shudders, making you pull back softly, peering at him with a careful look. Suddenly, he’s even more aware of the proximity and you on his lap.

“Sorry, I just got a chill. Must be because my father is looking for me,” He smiles, covering up for himself. You laugh softly, carefully climbing off and sitting back by the river. You lay down, sun washing over your skin. Neteyam’s eyes soak it all in, not a sight that’s very common. He joins you after a bit, talking about any random topic that comes to mind.

“Nete, can I ask you something weird?”

“Anything,”

“What does your kuru feel like? I'm not sure if it’s different for me, but you seem to be much more sensitive.” You ask softly, scared of overstepping your welcome when it comes to his teaching.

As he lays next to you, he’s acutely aware of how much larger his frame is. “Hm, I suppose I am sensitive. But only when I want to be, with people I want to be.” He answers, hinting slightly. He's more than aware it’s going to fly over your head.

“Uhm. When Na’vi chooses their mate, and they, uhm mate, is it the same tsaheylu as our bond with animals? With our mounts?”

“Hmm, I'm not sure. I haven’t been there yet.” He chuckles softly, but still does his best to answer. “I suppose they are connected in the same way, but you cannot control them as if you are on a mount. You cannot think about going, and expect the other to go. It’s more of a spiritual connection, being completely with the other. I suppose we also feel the other's sensations and emotions, but control is not the aspect of it.”

“Why are you so sensitive with yours?”

“It is my nervous system, if I wasn’t something would be seriously wrong.” He answers sarcastically, making the both of you laugh.

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, your eyes closing as you soak up the sun.

“Neteyam?”

“Hm?”

“I'm scared.” It’s vulnerable and the truth, you’re terrified. “If I fall, will you catch me?” You’re completely dead serious, terrified of falling off the cliff.

“Of course, I'll fly Seze.” He promises you. You sigh, nodding your head.

The day slips through your grasp before you can even hold onto it for a second, night quickly approaching. You and Neteyam slowly make your way back to home tree, you much slower, as you purposely get further and further behind. Neteyam knows, and he could definitely guess why you’re acting so strange. He doesn’t push you, just slows down his pace tenfold to allow you to catch up and even pass him. Ever so observant, he watches as your fists clench tight as your feet come to a gradual stop.

“Neteyam, spend tonight with me.” You rush, quickly. You quickly turn around to peer up at him, catching the small smile that’s already pulling at the corners of his mouth. Your fists are still clenched as you wait for his response to your borderline demand.

“It doesn’t sound like you’re asking, demanding the future Olo'eyktan around?” Neteyam boasts, jokingly puffing out his chest before he’s dropping into a squat to be more eye-level with your form. “Y/n?”

You almost knock him off balance as you ambush him, smaller body crashing against his as your arms fly around his neck. He regains his composure just as quickly, arms wrapping around you. “I'm scared.” You mumble against his ear, goosebumps shooting down his spine. “Just in case something happens.” You continue to mumble, borderline against his skin. “I want to spend tonight with you.” Your arms never loosen their hold, not giving him much leeway.

“Nothing will happen, Y/n.” He reassures you, easily picking up both of your body weight as he stands. He doesn’t pry you away, instead he wraps his arms around your torso as he easily carries you through the branches. “I promise, you will do amazing.” He fights to reassure you, lips brushing against your ear.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, I do.” He giggles softly, finally arriving at the sleeping hammocks after what feels like forever. (The close proximity is going straight to his head.) “You need rest though, my mighty warrior.” Neteyam gives you a wide grin as you pull away, smiling back softly at him. “I won’t leave you, if that’s what you want.'' He carefully maneuvers your weight into one arm, the other assisting him as he climbs into the hammock. Laying on his back, a content sigh slips through your lips as you rest on his chest.

“Neteyam, if I fail, what will you do?” You mumble, avoiding his gaze as your head never lifts as you speak to him.

“I will catch you.” He answers back almost immediately, not missing a single beat. It makes you smile, reassures you, calms your nerves just the slightest bit as he promises.

“Neteyam?”

“You're supposed to shut your eyes, syulang.” He teases as you continue your questioning.

“Can we go to the labs?” It's now Neteyam’s turn to ask questions, you never want to be in the lab. Never once have you asked to go there.

“Huh?”

“My mask is annoying, I'm getting used to not having it on.” Okay, he supposes that makes sense. Eases his nerves that you’re falling into your more human side than that of the culture and of the people. He lets out a puff of air he didn’t realize he was holding, climbing onto his feet carefully with you still in his arms. He wobbles like an idiot climbing out, regaining his balance once his feet hit the tree branch.

As always, Neteyam moves swiftly despite your weight remaining fixed to his back. You're tired, slowly slipping further and further down, making it hard for him to move as easily. “Y/n, you’re killing me,” Neteyam chuckles softly, reaching behind him to pull you up his back. He easily drops you onto his shoulders, continuing the fast pace he was previously at. He’s dumb, he definitely did not think this one through. Each movement has your legs clenching tightly, scared to fall from so high up. He can feel your warmth, so close. Each time you shuffle, he can smell you, so close it’s making him dizzy. Mustering all his strength up, he pushes on.

He thanks Eywa under his breath when he sets you down, still feeling the warmth on his shoulders where you once were. He hums softly as he grabs a mask, fiddling with the annoying thing as he places it over his head. He watches as you happily rip off your mask, rubbing at the red lines it left behind on your face. The lab is empty, everyone out for the night, likely sleeping up at high camp with the Avatar lab. Neteyam follows you loosely as you wander around, eventually slipping into a room. It’s small, for Neteyam. However, for you, the bed is giant as you plop dead in the middle of it.

“Neteyammm,” You sing-song to him, beckoning him over on the small bed. He curls and concorts, knees coming up as you lay almost encircled by him. Your face is engulfed in a smile, hands reaching up to play with his hair. “Maybe after I become a warrior I’ll rebraid your hair. You’ve been so busy.” You mumble softly, continuing to play softly with it. Your fingers brush over his kuru, a shudder running down his spine before he can stop it. You’re so close, smell so good, so warm, it makes him 100% more sensitive, he thinks. “Sorry, sorry,” Your hands retract just as fast as his reaction happened.

“No, no, it’s okay.” He reacts, stopping your hand before it has the chance to fully leave his head. “It’s okay, it’s not bad. You’re not doing anything wrong. You’re curious, it’s okay.”

“Neteyam,”

“It’s okay,” He smiles softly, gently placing your hand back where it once was. He encourages you to do whatever you’d like, bending to your every will. He would, he does. Another shudder runs down his spine when your little hands graze over it once more, goosebumps spreading along his skin. He can see the apprehension on your face, uncertainty. “It doesn’t hurt, syulang. It’s just sensitive, a new feeling.” He hums, pressing his face into your neck, hiding the blush that begins to spread across his face and ears.

You fill up his senses entirely, and he likes it. He wants you to. He bites back a softly whimper when your fingers trail down the braid, nose flat against your skin as he inhales. He can feel you warm up, feel himself warm up as well. His kuru seeks out your touch almost, wrapping around your fingers before you even realize it. Trying to make some form of tsaheylu, likely. Your fingers twitch slightly through the exposed part of his nerves, gaining confidence as you brush through them carefully, watching for any pained noises. Neteyam cant bite back the whimper when you carefully wrap your fingers around it, entangling back. He pitifully moans against your skin, embarrassment coursing through his veins as he refuses to meet your eyes.

“You need to rest, mighty.” Neyetam hums against your skin, afraid if he glances into your eyes now it would be too much for him, he’d give in. Another shiver runs, this time just from the thought of you, your skin, the proximity of your bodies as he curls around your form on the bed. “Let’s rest for tomorrow.” He can feel you nod, carefully moving your hands away from his kuru. He’s about to mourn the loss of contact, maybe even complain, before you’re running your fingers with his braids, holding his head close. Everything is good.

You thank Eywa for the blessing that makes Neteyam not look at you, you’d surely be read like a book. Face red, lips bitten bright red, slick with saliva. Thank Eywa.

You wake up with dread, genuine dread. Terror racks your body the whole trip. Not at the thought of scaling the mountain, or climbing the vines. At the thought of failing. Neteyam has so much faith in you, you don’t know what you’d do if you were to fail. You can almost feel the disappointment rolling from him. Shaking the thought from your head, you continue climbing the hard rock, pulling yourself out of autopilot. Neteyam whoops every now and then, encouraging you and the other group of warriors you’ve traveled with. It's nice, knowing he’s close, but terrifying at the same time.

As you come to the opening of the cave, just before you cross over, your heart drops. Seze comes into your view, landing and allowing Neteyam off.

He presses his fingers to his forehead, greeting everyone in the surrounding area. You all follow along, greeting your future leader. “I will not be watching, I'll be on lookout. Just in case.” He announces to the group, watching as the dread still doesn’t leave your face. He announces you’ll go last, trying to make you feel better. It fails, miserably. But you don’t tell him.

When it’s finally your turn, he comes back to the mountain, beginning to carefully walk you underneath the waterfall. People have failed today, scurrying back underneath the water in a desperate attempt to miss the near-death attack. They all come back ashamed, disappointed, and you’ve done your best to reassure them. Of course, some also succeeded, flying off with loud cheers and chants cheering them on.

“Neteyam, if I think I’m going to die, I am going back.” It’s dead serious, eyes dead serious, as you stare back at him. You’re scared, and he knows it, but you’re trying desperately to hide it all. “I don’t want you to be disappointed, but I'm scared.”

“I understand,” Neteyam nods, “I am not going further, I have to get back to Seze. I will be close,” You know he will, you know it. Carefully inching closer, most of the ikrans are already scattered, scared off by ten other hunters. The entire process is a blur, fear and adrenaline taking over your mind. You can barely remember what happened as you force your tsaheylu to connect, terrified pants calming out.

You briefly hear Neteyam’s chants fill your ears, hands pressing against your face in excitement. “What happened?” It's a genuine question. You can’t remember.

“Once you captured it, it did not fight. You didn’t have to lock it down.” He answers, a crazy look coming over his face as if he’s realizing something. As the adrenaline begins to mellow out, your brain begins working again.

“I have to fly, Neteyam move,” You demand, his hands still carefully holding your head in his palms as he forces you to look at him.

“Yes, yes. Fly, I’ll follow.” He smiles, ducking out of the way. He can hear the shriek that leaves your lips as you take off, the sound bouncing off the nearby rock. His feet are sprinting as quickly as possible over the wet rock, finding Seze and taking off just as quickly to search for you. You’re doing decent, still shaky, but alive when he finds you. You grieve the absence of a proper saddle and hold, Neteyam more than aware as he laughs at you.

“IT'S HARD!” You scream over the wind, voice just barely making its way to his ears.

“YOU DID IT!” He’s screaming back, a giant smile plastered across his face. The hours tick by quicker than he would’ve liked, signaling for you to follow as he leads you back to home tree. He supposes it’s because you went last, the time seemingly running past him. As you land in the top branches of the home tree, your unsteady legs buckle as you make contact with the mossy branch, toppling down.

“I’m tired,” Is all you offer, disconnecting your kuru as you allow your ikran to perch wherever she pleases. Neteyam lets out a hearty laugh as he reaches to pick you back up.

“You did it, I told you you were ready,” He smiles, the smile taking up his entire face. His arms wrap around you, pulling you into his embrace in a flurry. Your legs still feel weak, but you muster enough strength to wrap your arms back around him. “Come, we must meet with the others for dinner, announce it to the clan,” He blurts, excitement running through his veins for you. A giant smile spreads across your face as you agree, following him down with interlocked pinkies.

As you make it down, Neteyam lets out a loud whoop, announcing your success. Cheers and chants follow, everyone beginning to congratulate and praise you. Your official ceremony will be held in a week, commemorating and celebrating your achievement of having your place within the people. Neteyam is busy telling everyone the story, voice bubbling with excitement, growing in volume as he gets to the good parts. You beam beside him, listening. You couldn’t tell it anyway, you partially blanked.

Some of the elder members of the clan have a look you can’t quite decipher, unsure of what it means. You choose not to ask, scared of getting an answer you don’t actually want. For once, you choose ignorance.

Eventually the commotion begins to die down, everyone beginning to eat as usual. Neteyam practically begs you to eat with them as always, but Neytiri has the same look that so many others have given you. “Thank you, Nete, but I’m really worn out,” You offer softly, placing your hand on his bicep to try and calm him. He offers you a sad, kicked puppy look, but it didn’t work. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” You smile, beginning to make your way back to the hammocks.

“Child,'' Neytiri speaks softly once you depart, swooping Neteyam away for a brief moment. He knows he’s going to get some sort of lecture, good or bad, so he follows without saying another word. “She is special, no?” She asks, plain and simple. They both know the answer to this, Neteyam’s ears pinning in worry.

“…No.” Fear leads him as he lies.

“Neteyam.” It is kind but firm.

“She has something.” Is all he offers. He doesn’t know what it really is, but he knows it’s something. “Does that matter?” He avoids her gaze in worry.

“No, no. It doesn't matter. But it's something to be noted and watched, you know that.” She speaks, gently placing her hands on his shoulders. “Is she something special…to you?” She asks delicately, placing a careful hand over his heart as she asks.

“I'm…not sure.” He answers honestly.

Neytiri nods. She also knows the answer to that question, but figured she’d ask anyway. “Come, my child, let’s eat.” She smiles warmly, leading him back. He earns a lot of “ouuuus” from his siblings when he gets back, assuming he got in trouble.

He hisses softly, resuming his natural place with his family as he begins eating.

The days once again fly by before he can even think too long about it, a sturmbeest hunt following just days after your iknimaya.

“Come with us, Y/n,” Neteyam pleads alongside Lo’ak, begging you to come to the hunt with them. Your small human frame is still wiping the sleep from your eyes, glaring up at him as you devour your fruit. You pop your mask back on as you chew, the mask becoming more and more frustrating as you grow accustomed to your Avatar body.

“I can't hunt and fly at the same time, I'm not good at flying yet.” You answer genuinely, allowing your neck to relax as you look down, no longer peering up.

“You can be our lookout,” Lo’ak offers, also wanting you desperately to come along. He knows he hasn’t talked to you much, and as he watches his brother fall head over heels for you, he’s determined to grow closer.

You huff loudly, eyes still all squinty from sleep. You struggle up to your feet, the two blue boys giant next to you. “I'll meet you guys by the ikrans,” You whine, beginning to lazily make your way to the labs for link.

“Yay yay yay!” Lo’ak and Neteyam chant, easily lifting you and absolutely spriting you to the labs. You scream and laugh, body jostled around as if you weighed absolutely nothing to them. Your ribs hurt from laughing as they arrive at the shack, placing you down in front of the front door. They usher you inside.

“We’ll be at the tree,” Neteyam smiles, waving as you step inside. They both take off before the door even closes all the way. You can only laugh as you imagine them going crazy, sprinting up the tree branches. Just as you imagined, when you finally get up there, both boys are panting and disheveled, bowed over at the hips as they fight for air.

“Skxawngs,” You laugh wildly, a giant smile on your face as you call your ikran down. She’s calm as you connect, quickly rising and falling backwards as you wait for the other two.

The hunt goes smoothly as possible. Some shots are always missed, some Navi and their pa’li are always knocked over, some sturmbeests are wounded but not killed, always a tragedy. You watch Neteyam and Lo’ak very closely, terrified that one of them was going to get themselves in some sort of trouble or hurt. Neteyam lands a hit on one, the arrow not deep enough to kill the giant male just get. You’re a considerable distance ahead, flying further in front.

“Y/N, SHOOT! THE BIG MALE!” His voice screams to you, wanting to put the animal down with as little pain as possible. You let out an annoyed growl as you draw your bow as quickly as possible, using the wind to whip back as quickly as possible. Your arrow is aimed and shot quickly, the male about to run past where you’re flying, charging wildly. Your arrow hits on the same area, successfully knocking the prize winner down.

You, Neteyam, and Lo’ak cheer loudly, flying quickly next to one another as the adrenaline courses through your veins. Lo’ak screams in english, Neteyam in Navi, and you in a weird mix of the two. You're met by the people with loud calls and cheers, celebration soon to be underway as you bring in the prize kills.

“Y/n, come to the ceremony with me tonight.” Neteyam calls you softly as you feed your ikran, tending carefully to her. He watches as you loosen the saddle and reins, allowing your ikran to have more ability and flexibility while you’re not riding.

“The ceremony, with you? Are you courting me?” You chuckle softly. You know the culture, he knows you know the culture. Even at your accusation, the both of you giggle and brush it aside.

“You? Of course not. I'm giving you the gracious opportunity to take your Avatar to a ceremony, and just so happen to go with the clan leader's son.”

“Uhhhh huh.”

“Seriously, you’d be missing out if you don’t.”

“Fine, I suppose I will.”

The night is hectic, fermented juice being passed around like no one’s business, dance, games, and food all being shared among the clans members. You’re a topic of conversation, everyone inquiring about your appearance in your Avatar and not how you normally show up. Even still, it’s a good time. Everything goes generally as planned, until Tarsen approaches you later in the night, smooth voice talking with you.

He's sweet, and you suppose he’s just as accomplished as Neteyam in terms of earning their place within the clan. You know he’s respectful and hardworking, but besides that you’ve never really talked to him.

“You look very beautiful tonight.” A giant smile spreads across your face before you even have a chance to stop it fully. “Please, allow me to get a drink with you.” You have no chance in hell, nodding like an idiot as he takes your hand to help you up off your seat. The drinks are strong, making you warm in seconds flat.

“How is the ceremony going for you, Tarsem?” You smile softly, turning to listen to his answer. He steps a bit closer as he talks to you, leaning forward to tell you about his day in your ear. There’s small goosebumps spreading across your arms from the proximity, listening nevertheless to him. It takes a lot of effort to not jump when his tail comes to wrap around your waist, a classic courting gesture. He's bragging to you about his kill in the hunt, and your mind begins to wander to yours and Neteyam’s joint kill.

“Y/n?” You turn to find the voice, losing your balance temporarily as you search. “Can I have this dance?” Neteyam appears out of nowhere, standing up straighter and broad in front of you.

“Nete! Of course!” Once again, your balance falters as you step towards him. You quickly mumble a string of apologies to Tarsem, promising to come back as you excuse yourself from him. Neteyam’s chest rumbles as you fall towards him, finally breaking free of Tarsem’s hold on your waist. “Let's go!”

He waits until you get away from the table to speak once again, “Are you drunk? You’ve been drinking?”

“Yes, well no. Tarsem wanted to drink with me, but that’s it.” You struggle, beginning to make your way over to the clan's traditional dance line. Your hand reaches for Neteyam, pulling him along to follow. He stands in place, solid as a rock despite your pleading. Your costume makes soft clicking sounds as the beads and feathers move, a pretty hanging assortment that Neteyam had gifted you. Before arriving at the ceremony, you realized you had no ceremony outfits for your Avatar, only for your human body. It sits on your shoulders, connecting at your wrists to almost resemble wings hanging down.

“And his tail?” His jaw is clenched hard.

“Neteyam? What’s wrong?” You finally give up trying to pull him to the dance, it’s clear he doesn’t actually care to dance at this moment. There's a small frown on your face that Neteyam threatens to crumble under. He pulls his composure together, reaching out and pulling you close by your elbow.

“He was courting after you, and you let him.” Neteyam mumbles, eyes searching yours for answers.

“I didn't think you’d mind…you said we were just going to give me a chance to use my Avatar, Nete.” You sigh, confusion evident. “You’re confusing me, really badly. I don't understand why you’re upset. Please, can we just dance??”

Neteyam once again doesn’t budge. Even in your Avatar body, his strength easily overpowers yours and he’s suddenly an unmoving force. The two of you are away from the crowd, able to talk more freely and hide from any peering eyes. “Would you have continued?” Neteyam grits, unable to hold eye contact with you as he peers down.

“What do you mean? What are you accusing me of?”

“Would you have mated?”

“Neteyam! What are you on about?” You slur your speech, balance losing temporarily as you fall forward into him. He catches you despite technically being upset. “I’m not mating with anybody, the person I want doesn't want me. He told me so today,” You drunkenly babble, arms wrapping around his neck as you hold yourself up. “Told me he won’t go to the ceremony with me in that way, doesn’t want to court me.” Your costume tangles with him as his arms come to wrap around your waist, the proximity going to his head.

“He told you that, huh?” Neteyam feels his face heat, knowing who you’re talking about. You lift slightly onto your tiptoes, pushing yourself closer against his chest. “I think you should tell him that.”

“Hmmm, I don’t know,” Your words came out mumbled, “He’s a really busy guy, you know? Don’t wanna be an inconvenience.” You continue, and Neteyam can feel his heart contract a bit.

“You’re not an inconvenience.”

“Hmmm,” You hum, goosebumps sprouting against his skin. “Can we dance, Nete. Please?” You ask again, beginning to untangle yourself from him. He mourns the loss of closeness, holding tight to your hand in his. Your face is bright pink, but you still lock eyes with him. “Come, let’s dance in the ceremony,” You softly pull, this time Neteyam moves with, giving in. The two of you dance and sing, play some of the games, share food as you begin to settle down for the night. You’re holding the leaf on your lap, you and Neteyam both picking from it here and there.

Unknown to you, Tarsem is making his way over, ready to ask about your promise of returning to him. Neteyam locks eyes, giving him a heavy glare that’s almost unmistakable even in an inebriated state. To solidify his claim, he’s moving closer to you, legs now pressed together, his arm wrapping around your shoulder. He gets the message loud and clear, turning around and beginning to make his way elsewhere.

“Nete, I’m tired,” You call his attention back without realizing, head falling onto his shoulder. “Can I go back to home tree? You can stay if you need to, future Olo'eyktan,” You smile, beginning to stand as you hand him the leaf in case he’s sticking around. “I’ll see you for our lessons, yeah?”

“I’ll walk you back,” He’s quick to offer, wanting to make sure you get back safely, and by yourself. Neteyam does as promised, safely walking you back to home tree to allow your Avatar to rest. He thinks hard, would your human body remember what you said and did? Are you going to steer clear of him now? You’re beyond wobbly, scaring Neteyam half to death as you wobble side to side on the tree branches. Your body has enough muscle memory to easily guide you to the hammock, still, Neteyam gasps hard as you freely jump into an open one. “Oh Eywa! Y/n!” He scolds.

You laugh softly, peering up at him. “Goodnight, Nete. Get back safe okay?” You lazily smile, gently pulling at the edge of the leaf to cover yourself. You’re out quickly, body exhausted. Neteyam is now racing on foot to the lab to check on human you.

“Y/n?” He calls as he walks through the lab, struggling with the mask as he holds it.

“Neteyam? You should probably get back to the ceremony,” You mumble, stretching your legs and arms out. He smiles softly as the beads clink together, “People are probably waiting on you.”

“Yeah, but you should get some rest. I wanted to make sure you’re okay, you drank a lot.”

“I suppose it doesn’t cross over, that’d be weird if it did. I don’t remember much though,” You smile, a bit embarrassed that you can’t remember the ceremony that Neteyam took you to.

“I see, I see.” He nods, “Here, I’ll run you up to home tree so you can get some sleep.” Neteyam smiles as he offers, turning around and squatting to offer his back. You climb on, wrapping your legs around his torso as much as possible given his size. Neteyam takes you there easily, jumping, climbing, and scaling the tree with little to no difference with you on him. He's careful as he climbs into a leaf, allowing you to climb off of his back. You laugh as he wobbles in it as he tries to get up around you.

“Careful, you’ll knock both of us out,” You smile, grabbing his arm where he’s trying to push himself up without leaning too far to one side. He can only balance with both arms, awkwardly placed on either side of your head, your smaller frame engulfed by his much bigger one.

Neteyam makes the mistake of looking, his body easily covering yours entirely, your face bright red as you bite on your lips, avoiding eye contact. Your small hand grips hard as you balance yourself, not helping. He's so close he can practically smell the heat rolling off of you. “Sorry, Sorry! I’m just, this is, it’s fragile,” He stutters, his own face warming. He wants to stay here, like this, with you. He's sure you can see the blush on his ears, stuttering like an idiot when he accidentally looks in between both of your bodies. But he can’t, so he reluctantly climbs away, barely making it to the tree branch. “I’ll see you soon,” He grits out, closing the hammock for you.

Neteyam knows he should go back to the ceremony, make his rounds as the chief's son. But he has a bigger issue at hand, said issue? In between his legs.

Your’s and the other warrior’s ceremony is quick to come, your body being painted traditionally for it. White paint is drug along your torso and face, finger paths making pretty even lines. You begged Kiri to help you, knowing she’d be the most careful and intricate. As she drags her fingers over your lips, the both of you giggle wildly. Tuk, who joined the both of you for fun, stares at you with stars in her eyes.

“Y/n, I have a gift for you,” Kiri speaks, springing up and running off. She comes back quickly. She comes back with a decently sized box. “It’s for tonight.”

Your heart aches as you open it, a giant smile spread across your face. “You didn’t have to-“

“It's not just from me.”

Its beautiful ceremonial pieces, bottoms, a top, accessories galore, and a few pieces to decorate your hair with. “Most were woven and made by Neteyam,” Kiri almost whispers, a knowing smile spread across her face at the confession.

“I see…” You smile, trying to avoid the blush that threatens to come across you. Kiri is very receptive, even more so to you since she’s known you for so long. “They’re beautiful, I’ll be sure to talk to him and thank him later tonight,”

Kiri smiles, “I'm sure he’d like that a lot.” She nods, climbing to her feet. She offers her hands, helping you up. “Me and Tuk will leave you to get ready,”

You thank her repeatedly as she leaves. You kiss the top of Tuk’s head goodbye when she complains about leaving, promising her you’ll see her later. Getting changed makes your stomach flip wildly, nerves beginning to set in for the night. Everyone is busy with their preparations, running wildly around the tree. Dressed and painted, you make your way down.

Neteyam spots you immediately, having to run off to help with preparations. His mind is filled with you, just the brief glimpse he caught. He tells himself to distance himself, too scared that once he’s in your grasp he won’t be able to break himself away. He watches the entire night, eyes never once leaving your frame. Hours fly by like minutes, too entranced in the way you dance, speak, sing, smile, interact, everything about you. You can feel his stare, burning into your skin. He watches as you join in the dances, accept praise and congratulations, turn down courting and mate offers left and right. His eyes never leave once.

“Sa’nu,” Neteyam soft voice catches Neytiri’s attention, quickly walking off with him. Far enough away from everyone else, Neteyam speaks freely. “I am going to ask Y/n to be my mate tonight.” His voice is firm and strong. He's not asking in the slightest, he is telling her.

Neytiri nods softly, fighting the smile that pulls at the corner of her lips. “She will make a good mate for you, my eldest.” He smiles, reaching to softly cup his face.

Neteyam nods, “I know.” The two of them walk back to the party, Neteyam standing much stronger, more confident as he searches for you once again.

“Syulang,” Neteyam calls, watching as your head immediately turns towards him. His heart beats hard. “Are you having fun?” He asks softly when you make your way over, a glow radiating off of you.

“Yes, I am. Are you having fun?” You smile back, sitting with him on one of the logs.

“Yes, I am.” He nods.

“Watching me? Because I haven't seen you do much else,” You tease softly, leaning forward towards him as you speak. It’s the truth, he hasn’t done much else.

“Yes, making sure you’re safe,” He nods, coming up with an excuse that’s semi-believable.

“My warrior, forever and always being my lookout,” You grin at him, thinking about when he first promised to be your extra set of eyes, keeping you out of harm's reach. A couple of braids fall from behind his ear as he shuffles slightly. Before you’re thinking, you reach forward, gently tucking them behind his ear.

The grin on his face is irreplaceable, his hand gently reaching for your wrist before you can pull away. He softly pulls your hand down, kissing the pads of your fingers softly. “Y/n? I want to show you something, whenever you’re ready to go.” He gently releases your wrist after pressing another kiss to your pinky, your extra finger that makes you different.

Your mind goes numb, essentially, eyes widening as you stare at the man in front of you. “Ye-yes. I was going to get going soon anyway,” You mumble, not entirely the truth but you digress. He grins, a love-sick grin as he’s the first to get up. He offers his palm, smiling even more when you take it.

“You are one of the people now, physically and spiritually now.” Neteyam begins as the two of you run through the forest, taking turns passing one another in brief sprints. The two of you laugh like dummies, leaping and hopping over logs. “Eywa has heard you, acknowledged you.” He continues, slowing his pace when he approaches his destination. It's the tree of voices, a place you know from stories and pictures. You’ve never visited yourself, never being able to connect or truly listen. “These trees are our people. We connect with them through here, hear their voices, listen to their stories.” Neteyam speaks softly as he walks through the trees. “It is one of our most sacred places. It is our memories, our history.”

Neteyam’s voice is honey to your ears, watching his actions closely. His movements stop, reaching to gather a few of the branches and bringing them to himself. Reaching for his braid, he connects his tswin. You watch him, unsure of if you should follow. Neteyam smiles, nodding towards you to follow when you don’t immediately mirror him. You follow, connecting. It’s different than anything else, your pupils grow giant, listening to the voices, stories, songs. Goosebumps grow all along your body, eyes falling closed as you listen to the advice of mothers passed down for thousands of generations.

“Y/n,” Neteyam speaks softly, hands gently taking your elbows in his hold. Your eyes peel open, gently pulling your kuru away. “I have a gift for you,”

“Neteyam-“

“It’s already made.” He uses your own logic against you from the past. You giggle softly, following him to the soft grass when he sits. He tenderly presents a necklace in his palms, holding it with both hands as he presents it to you. “It’s for you, marking our training together.” Neteyam explains nervously, feeling his tail flick wildly behind him in anxiety.

“You shouldn’t have, you already made me my outfit Nete.” Your voice grows soft as you scooch closer to him, leaning in to examine the necklace in his hands.

“This is the first day, where we spent all day in the forest. This is when you learned archery, your first clean kill, bonding with Midnight, your iknimaya, your kill in the sturmbeest festival, your celebration tonight.” He explains each of the beads, face warming as you continue to draw closer to one another. There's one remaining, a soft pink stone.

“Which is this one?” You ask, reaching and pointing.

“This one…is to represent tonight,” Neteyam mumbles, extremely soft. Your eyes catch one another’s for a brief moment, breaking off when you feel the heat rise to your cheeks. “The trees, the people, us.”

“Neteyam, it’s too sweet,” Your voice is smooth and heavenly to him, hands holding his bicep firmly. You then release him, turning your back so he can place it onto you. His touch makes goosebumps spread anywhere they brush, a shudder going down your spine. Your fingers reach to feel it, “It’s perfect, Nete,” You mumble as you turn back and face him. Your hands find his shoulders naturally, eyes connecting.

“I see you, Y/n.” He mumbles, hands once again falling to hold your arms where they rest on him.

“Neteyam, you see me, I see you.” You mumble softly, your hands gently cupping his face in your palms as you shuffle closer to where he’s kneeled. He smiles, leaning his head into your hold and almost nuzzling into you. There's a rumble in his chest, a purr as you always call it, as he feels so completely intent in your hold. He always denies purring with a passion when anyone else brings it up, but you, sure, he’d purr for you. “Nete, I see you.” You speak again, sitting so close that your knees are between one another.

“You’ve grown up here, you know the culture. After coming of age, all of the people are permitted to make their bow or weapon, and find their mate if they wish to." Neteyam speaks softly to you, pressing his forehead to yours. “You may do this as you wish, with whoever you wish.” Neteyam’s chest tightens as his mind goes to Tarsem.

“With whoever I wish?” You ask softly, pulling your head back slightly. Neteyam looks confused, eyes squinting in confusion at your move. “What are the conditions of, “whoever?” I feel that some people are definitely off limits.”

“Who is off limits to you?” Neteyam mumbles, his hands dropping down from your elbows to the ground behind him, holding his torso up.

“Hmmmm,” You pretend to think for a couple of moments, tapping your chin as Neteyam makes himself comfortable, now sitting as he rests on his palms. He looks especially handsome, the smallest look of smugness on his face. He’s almost beckoning you closer, inviting you onto his lap as he sprawls out in front of you. “Olo'eyktan, he’s definitely off limits. Hmmm, I think the future Olo'eyktan is also off limits.”

“Yeah? Did he tell you that it’s off limits?” His confidence grows even more, chest booming. Finally, he reaches forward, hands finding your waist and finally pulling you close once more. Your knees are on either side of his thighs, hovering over his lap. “I think that the future Olo'eyktan has already chosen his mate though, a very special person, someone who he didn’t think he’d be with right now.” Neteyam speaks gently as he continues to pull you close, allowing you to sit on his lap.

“So if he’s already chosen his mate, then he IS off limits.” You continue the game you’re playing, a giant smile spread across your face as your thumb rubs along his cheek. Finally caving in, you speak again “You really think the future Olo'eyktan would want to be with me? A little human?” You giggle like a school girl gossiping, pretending that you weren’t talking directly to him.

“I think he would, definitely. In fact, I know he would.” Neteyam speaks, leaning forward and gently connecting your lips. You pause for a moment to relish in the moment, soft lips pressed against one another, breathing mixing together. You’re the first to move, sliding your lips against his. You can feel the rumbling growing in Neteyam’s chest, the purring that you love so much coming out. Moving closer, your chests press flush together, his arms wrapping around your back.

The kiss consumes you, lights your skin on fire as his palms trail along your skin. It feels like your oxygen has been stolen from your lungs, Neteyam greedily taking it as he kisses you harder. Your hands find the back of his head, pulling him closer if it’s even possible at this point. You break the kiss, panting heavily as you fight to fill your lungs with air.

“Nete, I can't. I can't be Tsahìk, I cannot lead the people.” You pull away, hands still cupping his face. Neteyam presses his cheek into your hold, a gentle smile plastered across his face. Your heart aches, thumbs gently rubbing across his cheeks. “You should look elsewhere-“

“You have a bond with Eywa, I see her with you all the time. You and the forest, her children, your mount, they are all special. You can. You have helped my grandmother from the day she allowed you to, you know how to heal and help. But if you don’t wish to, we will be simple weavers together-“

“Don’t.” Your voice cuts him off.

“Okay, hunters,”

“Neteyam!”

“Songwriters?”

“You have worked your whole life training, ensuring your place as leader. You will likely take over in just a few years time. I will not let you throw it away for me.”

“I don't want to lead the people, if not with you.” He answers completely honestly, leaning forward to press your forehead together. “That life is not worth living.” His eyes fall closed as he relishes the feeling of your hold, holding him so closely, so delicately. “It is not the life I want. I don’t want to lead if you’re not by my side.”

“Only if you want to, no pressure,” Neteyam mumbles against your lips. One of his palms leaves your skin, instead beginning to reach behind him for his tswin. He pulls it over his shoulder, resting it there and waiting for your reaction. Reaching back for yours, it’s a choice you’ve already made long before now. “Y/n, I see you.” Neteyam mumbles, trailing down his braid and watching as you mirror him. “I see you, I see every form of you, every body, my sweet mate.'' Connecting your kuru’s sends electricity down your spine, both of your pupils dilating as the connection is sealed, releasing your kurus.

“Neteyam,” You mumble, hands immediately wrapping themselves around him and pulling him as close as possible. Your breathing is heavy, chest heaving against his as you stare into his eyes, both of your pupils giant. Your lips crash together, body seated securely on Neteyam’s lap as he pulls you close. “I need you, haaa fuck, I need you Neteyam.” You whine softly against his lips, pulling roughly on the ties around his hips.

“I know, paskalin, I know.” Neteyam mumbles against your lips, reaching down to pull your hands back up. He places a soft kiss on your palm, “Relax, pretty. Wanna make you feel good, please you.” Neteyam speaks, hands wrapping around to hold your back. He's extremely strong, pushing both of your weights up to gently place you on your back.

“Neteyam,” You whine, reaching back to try to pull at his ties. He easily dodges your prying fingers, pinning your hands to the soft moss underneath you.

“Patience, Y/n,” He speaks softly but firm, “Want to do it right, want to mate you right,” He mumbles, beginning to kiss along your skin. An involuntarily whimper leaves when he makes his way down your neck, slowly getting closer and closer to where you need his touch. You pull softly on his grip, unable to break it. “Make you feel good, so you never want anyone else,”

“I don’t, never Neteyam,” Your voice breaks off into a whine as he nips at the soft flesh on your chest, reaching to untie your top. Goosebumps spread across your skin as he touches as he pleases, hands trailing from your thighs, up to your breast, and then back down to your thighs. Teasing, he’s teasing you. You whine as you squeeze his hips in between your thighs, pulling him closer. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”

“You mean that?” He asks softly as he carefully takes a breast in his mouth, tongue gently lapping. He watches your reaction, gauges what you don’t like and do, and adjusts all of his movements perfectly. As he nips, a small cry falls past his lips. “You didn’t answer me, yawne.”

“Yes, yes I mean that.” You answer, body steadily heating as he makes his way in between your thighs, kneading the soft flesh.

“So soft.” He bums to you, placing his head on your thighs as if they were a pillow. He's still teasing, unmoving as he looks up at you from where you want him.

“Nete,” Your voice breaks, reaching down to pull softly at his braids, growing impatient. His palms rub along your skin soothingly, moving from your outer thighs, up to your hips where he grabs and holds. “Please, take it off,” You plead as be toys with the ties on the side of your hip, twirling them around his finger.

“Of course, pretty.” Neteyam finally caves in, pulling your loincloth off carefully. You feel his heartbeat increase, pupils growing even more. Your adrenaline masks your embarrassment, wanting him more than ever. Neteyam peers up at you, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches your reaction. His breath fans over you, making your thighs tighten where they sit on his shoulders. “So pretty, so beautiful.” He mumbles, lightly licking along your heat.

You can feel the lightning shoot up your back, a moan ripping through your throat. You can feel him inhale hard, nose pressed flat against your skin as he breathes in deeply. “Neteyam! Don’t!”

“Too good,” He ignores you, breathing in your scent in deep, greedy gulps. He ignores your whining, face buried as deep as possible into your cunt.

“Neteyam, you need to rel-AH!” His arms wrap tight around your waist, dragging you along the ground. He pulls your hips easily up to his face, now kneeling and sitting on his feet. “Eywa, Nete,” A moan travels through the trees as you balance on your upper back, hands reaching down to grab his knees to try and talk sense into him. Your nails dig where they can reach, Neteyam lost to you as he licks, sucks, and flicks along your clit with ease you would expect from someone experienced.

“Need you,” He moans into your pussy, only worsening your circumstances as he sends you closer to the edge. He moans into you, enjoying eating you out as if he was being pleasured currently. Your moans are impossible to hold back, whimpering, moaning, and crying out his name. “Taste better than, fuck, anything I’ve ever bad,” He growls, tightening his hold, folding his arms more.

It’s ridiculous, how you’re positioned, completely helpless from his assault. Your knees are resting on his shoulder, accidentally flexing and sending you grinding against his face, a loud moan coming from both of you. “Do it again, ride my face,” Neteyam growls softly.

You whimper as you do so, flexing your legs and consistently pulling your pussy across his face. When your legs begin shaking too badly to continue at the same pace, he picks up the slack for you. “Going to cum,” You cry, nails digging in deeper, beginning to break skin. He doesn’t even register the pain, desperate to get you there.

“Cum, cum on my tongue,” He growls, never slowing his ministrations. You whimper as he pushes you closer and closer, legs beginning to tighten around his head.

“Cumming, Nete,” You cry, head falling against the soft moss as you do so. Your legs tighten around his head, holding him there as you ride out the orgasm. They finally loosen when the overstimulation kicks in, unable to remain locked down.

“So good, so pretty for me,” Neteyam coos, carefully moving your body so you’re once again laying flat on the ground. His palms soothe over your thighs, rubbing the shakes out where they sit around his hips. “So good, such a perfect mate for me, such a perfect girl,” He mumbles.

“Nete, need you,” You whine, using the last bit of your strength to sit up. Your hands push softly at his shoulders, switching the positions as you straddle his hips once more. His loin cloth is stretched, body wanting you more than he could ever tell you. Your lips crash against his, tasting yourself on his face. Heat immediately spreads across your cheeks, slight embarrassment, as you fumble with his ties. This time, he lets you.

“You okay, pretty?” Neteyam coos as you untie him, eyes never leaving your face. His hands slide along your hips, making their way in between your thighs once again. “Are you going to be able to take me, hmm?” His voice has a slight teasing tone, but you know there’s concern underneath it as well. Your head falls forward as he slowly sinks a finger into your heat, allowing your face to nestle in his shoulder.

“I want you, Neteyam. I want your cock,” You complain softly, body aching with want.

“I know, but I don't want you to hurt yourself,'' Neteyam has a purr rumbling in his chest. He cares for you, so deeply, even as he tortures himself with the amount of restraint he’s exercising. Another whine is pulled past your lips as another finger slips in, curling to hit just right. “There it is, there you go,” Neteyam coos as you turn to putty in his hold, fingers exactly where you need him. He stretches you thoroughly, to his liking. Pleasure shoots through your spine, mind melting. “Okay, you got this,” He smiles at you, fingers rubbing comforting circles on your hips.

Your shaky hands line him up, excitement and nerves shooting through your body. Your breathing is uneven as you sink down, panting as you sink down to the base, hips pressed together. “Fuck, fuck,” Neteyam pants, one of his hands holding your hips and encouraging you to grind against him. It draws soft moans from the two of you, the spiritual and physical connection between the two of you making your mind feel fuzzy, almost numb. “You’re doing so good for me, my sweet mate. Taking me so well, taking it so well.” He encourages, gently rocking up into you.

“My mate, my mighty warrior.” You pant, gathering all of the strength you still have to rock yourself along his cock, doing your best to take all of him each time. Neteyam feels feral as you pant on top of him, thighs shaking on either side of his hips. Only he can make you feel like this, only he can see you in this state, all for him. You’re taking him so well, so warm and welcoming as you coax him inside with each thrust. You’re so close, holding his body completely flush against yours. All of his senses are full of you, one hand holding your back and the other has a death grip on your hip.

“So good to me, all for me, only for me.” Neteyam continues to encourage you, your whimpers and mewls filling his ears as you hide in his shoulder. Possessiveness grows, consumes him as you shudder into him, his sweet mate. He's never felt like this, his skin hot, a strong desire growing in his chest.

“Want to cum, Nete.” You’re so sensitive, so hot just because of him. You whimper, words slurred as you fight to think even the slightest bit straight. Your arms are wrapped around him for purchase, the only thing providing you stability as you grind down on his cock. Your small whimpers and moans fill your ears, making you flush red in embarrassment. Biting them back, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip is the best you can manage. Neteyam picks it up instantly, both due to your connection and his ears alerting him.

“What is it, my mate?” Neteyam draws, not able to use the term enough. “Not feeling good anymore?” The confidence and smugness oozes from each work, he knows the answers to his questions before he even asks. “Don’t want to give me your little whines anymore?” Neteyam knows what he’s doing, punctuating the end of his sentence with a gentle snap up of his hips. A broken sob falls from your lips, mewls and whines quickly following it. “There she is, are you going to come for me? Let me hear you, yawne. Use me to make yourself feel good, pretty.”

His voice is intoxicating, feels like you’re on drugs as you pant and whine on top of him. Your hips grind down, no longer bouncing as you whimper as his tip repeatedly hits where you want him, where you need him. Neteyam happily allows you, fondness growing stronger as you do as you please, following his instructions. It doesn’t feel as good to him this way, but god damn it, seeing you in this state easily makes up for it.

“Feels good, hm?” He asks softly, words muffled by your hair as you pull him close. One hand slides down, gently circling the little bud that he knows makes you tick.

“Ah, ah, gonna cum for you, Nete,” Your voice mewls, soft pants breaking up your words as you ride him how you like. Your thighs are shaking worse now, chasing your high like nothing else matters. “Can I cum, please?”

“Of course,” His abs clench hard as he fights off his orgasm, your pussy clenching hard around him as you become more sensitive. His restraint is wearing thin, patience being tested like never before. As you teeter closer, his fingers circle just the slightest bit faster. And you’re cumming around him, hard. His own lips part with a moan as you squeeze his length, shaky thighs continuing to move as your determination to ride it out takes over. Your pants fill his senses, heartbeat filling his own chest, minds molding together.

Eventually, your hips slow, one hand quickly grabbing and pulling his wrist away from your heat. “Nete,” You whimper, squeezing around him. Your arms wrap around his back, chests flush together. “Want you to feel good,”

“I am, yawne.” Neteyam smiles at you, rolling his hips up into you. “Wanted you to feel good, first.'' His voice is gentle as he maneuvers the both of you. Your back hits the ground once again, Neteyam still in between your thighs as he follows close. “Absolutely killing me, doing all I can to hold myself back,” A small growl rumbles through his chest, pressing his hips against you, filling you as deep as possible. “Absolutely losing it,” He growls as he pulls out, snapping his hips forward. You moan, loud.

“Don’t hold back, feel good, Neteyam.” You whimper, his palms slipping underneath your thighs. Your breath catches as he hikes your legs up, hands meeting the bend of your knees as he folds you.

“I'm sorry, yawne,” Neteyam moans softly, pressing his forehead against yours as he absolutely ravishes you. His hips snap hard into you, no longer holding back as he chases his own release. You moan loudly against his lips, not quite kissing, but lips brushing together. He groans and growls, eyes falling shut as he slams his hips into you, filling your cunt completely up each time.

Your noises are unrelenting, unable to bite them back as pleasure shoots through your body with each thrust. Neteyam is feral, chasing the high that he’s edged himself off of for the last hour. “Neteyam, gonna cum, you feel too good,” You whimper, biting at your lips as you peel your eyes open to look at him. Your arms shakily move, clawing softly at his back.

“Cum, cum for me.” Neteyam mumbles, “Gonna cum with you this time, okay paskalin?” He asks softly, pressing a shaky kiss to your cheek. His hips twitch and abs tighten as he focuses on how tight you’re wrapped around him, twitching and clenching down harder as you’re about to cum for him once more. “Gonna fill you up, okay? Put a future clan leader into you,” He groans harshly, feral, animalistic. “My baby, you’ll be a good mama for me,”

“Nete, oh fuck,” You cry, cumming hard around his cock. A broken sob falls from your lips, face leaning forward. Before you even have a moment to think of it, your teeth sink deep into his shoulder, your mating bite. Neteyam shudders as you mark him, hips continuing as he fucks you through your orgasm, soon spilling into you.

“Fuck, fuck yawne, good girl,” Neteyam groans, letting go of one of your legs and holding your head. He doesn’t pull you away, but relieves the strain on your neck as you bite into him. His hips slow, every now and then thrusting into you as he fucks his cum deeper into your pussy.

You release your hold, pulling your fangs out of his skin. Laying back down, there’s blood and drool on your lips, eyes glazed over as you stare up at him. Neteyam lazily thrusts once or twice more, overstimulation kicking in before he’s slowly pulling out. “Paskalin, you okay?” He mumbles gently, carefully moving your legs to a more comfortable position. Kissing your forehead, you begin to come back, more aware of his words. “You did so well,”

“Neteyam, I see you,” You can’t help but smile at him. Your heart is so full, so fond, as your eyes water. “I love you,” It’s more human, Neteyam isn’t entirely familiar with it.

“I love you too,” Regardless, he doesn’t miss a beat, “I see you.” Neteyam nuzzles his face into you, arms wrapping around your back as he lays down, pulling you close. “We are mated for life, I am with you now.”

little extra lol

A couple of days have passed since then, and Neteyam has never felt so secure and confident in his life. His father was a bit upset he didn’t get the run down before like his mother did, but nothing serious. Kiri and Lo’ak saw it coming, and Tuk? She’s just as excited as Neteyam. You’ve started your official Tsahìk training now, alongside copious amounts of support from the Sully family.

While he is your #1 supporter, he can’t help but feel annoyed that he’s barely seen you the last couple of days. His mate, and they only meet after sunset for rest. He hasn’t even seen your little human body in days, always falling asleep with your Avatar and your human form staying at the lab (It’s easier, you start training extremely early in the morning.)

He almost cries from relief when you wake him, small human body basically sitting on his chest. “Nete, I have a day off,” You grin, still shaking him slightly. The excitement quickly shoots south, but in a surprising way. He can feel your heartbeat, it’s as if you were back to the night you had officially become one. But you were human.

“Y/n?” He mumbles, thinking he’s still half asleep. As he sits up and becomes more aware, he’s not imagining it. “I see you,”

“I see you-“

“No, I see you.” He mumbles, placing his hand over his heart. “Like we’re connected, I can feel your heartbeat right now…” Neteyam thinks hard, and he thinks hard for hot minute, “Like, our tsaheylu works even in your human body, I feel you, sense you,”

Neteyam’s mind runs fuzzy at the realization, big head falling into the crook of your neck and taking a deep, long inhale of your scent. He's suddenly way too aware of you sitting in his lap, small frame draped over his much, much larger one. “Y/n,” He groans, deep as his arms wrap around you, caging you in. His hands knead at your soft flesh, well-fed, healthy, fertile. His mind absolutely reels at the thought, the embodiment of fertility.

“Neteyam, we can’t,” You mumble against his skin, voice close to his ear, goosebumps spreading. He knows why, he does. As his frame easily hides your entire body just with his torso, he knows. He’d break you, truly. “I can link with my-“

“No, no.” He shakes his head, palms groping at the soft meat of your thighs. He doesn’t want your Avatar, he wants you. He feels this body, he’s connected not with your bodies, but with you. The thought sends him.

“Nete, I physically can't,” There’s humor in your words, a slight giggle as you pull away to peer at him. His pupils are giant, mind cloudy as he stares at you. You chuckle, hands pulling at your mask. With one deep breath, you pull it off.

“What are you-“ His panicked tone is quickly cut off when your lips press against his, soft and careful. It doesn’t help his situation, lips so unbelievably soft where they’re connected with his own. His mind melts, eagerly kissing you back as if he was starved from it. He whines, a genuine sound, when you pull back, yanking your mask on quickly.

“You worry a lot,”

“I worry for you,” Neteyam rolls his eyes. Maybe if he ignores you, and his unbelievable attraction for you, the tightness in his cloth will go away. It's all wishful thinking, impossible thinking, given how you’re currently straddling his thighs. “You have to give me a bit to calm down, yawne. I can't do it with you sitting like this,” He whines, growing uncomfortable with each passing second.

“Why can’t I help you?” You whine, leaning forward to wrap your arms around his neck, a small pout on your face.

“Because I’m scared I will lose it and hurt you,”

“You’d never hurt me, Nete,” It’s a genuine statement, both of you know it. “Not in a way I didn’t want, anyway,”

“Yawne,” He groans, “Not helping.”

“C’mon, let’s go find somewhere private.” You almost have it in you to laugh at him when you climb off his lap, a genuine crazed look in his eyes.

“Do you not feel it in this body?” Neteyam asks as he runs after you, picking you up to more easily scale home tree. You think for a couple of moments, shrugging.

“I think I feel it all the time, I thought it was normal,” You answer him honestly, arms and legs wrapped around his body as he climbs and runs. His ikran meets him hastily, and he’s taking off before he even asks you if you’d like to sit on the saddle instead.

“Maybe I couldn’t tell because I haven't seen you in this body in awhile,” He concludes as he lands, hoping down with you still death gripped to his back. “Been killing me, Y/n. It’s like torture, being away from you for so long,” He whines, immediately turning to wrap you in his hold when your feet touch the soft grass. He kneels carefully, more level with you as he continues the dramatics. “Missed your little human body tripping over sticks,” He teases, knowing the sticks are logs for you. His head finds itself against your chest, listening to the way your heart beats.

“Oh the drama,” You laugh, making yourself comfortable when you sit down. “Can't kiss you in this body, it’s unfair,” You complain as you lay down, knowing Neteyam is soon to find his place in between your thighs. It takes almost no time, legs widening to accommodate the large Na’vi.

“We can work out a system,” He really wants to kiss you, “Deep breath,” He barely lets you finish before he pulls the mask off, immediately slamming his lips against your own. He’s desperate and needy, the feeling only multiplying as you’re finally close. He can feel the heat in between your legs, making him lose his judgment. He kisses you as if his life depends on it for a bit, before his care for your well-being overrides his thoughts and he’s placing the mask back on. “Fuck, just missed you so much,” He grins, trailing down to your chest as he kisses along your sensitive and thin skin. It’s like torture when he trails down, his mind melting as his fingers trail over the edge of your own beaded cloth.

“It’s okay Nete,” You’re quick to reassure, watching as he immediately takes the go ahead and unties it. Wasting no time at all, he genuinely wastes no time as his head immediately buries in between your legs. “NETEYAM, FUCK!” You yelp, his giant head occupying all of the space. He's starved, so starved, and he eats to reflect that. You’re cumming once then again, then again, and then-

“One more for me paskalin, just too good, tastes too good, it’ll be the last one,”

Once his face finds its way out, he’s absolutely covered in your arousal and cum. His fingers find his own cloth, an idea popping in his head, “Do you trust me, love?”

“Of course,” He grins softly, allowing himself to finally be free of his constraint. He moans softly at that alone, so turned on, so drunk on you that his mind is definitely not working to its full capacitors. He whines loud as he slides in between your legs, big, angry cock easily slipping through your wet folds. You whimper as his tip brushes your sensitive clit, continuing to push past it until your hips are flush together. He moans, loud, when he looks down, angry cock just barely nudging at your breasts.

“I'd break you, yawne,” He growls softly, sliding his hips back before snapping them forward, “I'd break this little body,” He lets out more of a whine when you squeeze your thighs together, giving him more friction, more touch. “But oh, you’d be so full, stuffed full of my cock,” He groans, shuddering slightly on top of you.

“I know, Nete,” You whimper back softly, losing your mind as he fucks himself against your pussy, shuttering each time he slips into where your thighs squeeze. He genuinely would, likely fuck up your lungs and all vital organs in the process.

You’re absolutely soaked from his touch, providing more than enough lubrication for him as he easily slides between your lips, constantly hitting your clit right where you need it. It’s obscene, the sounds it’s making, you would think he’s fucking into you. “Nete,” You whimper, hands pulling at his arms to try and get him closer. He obliges happily, leaning forward to press himself against

you. He whines loudly, cock in between either of your bodies. “Love you,”

“Love you too, paskalin,” He smiles softly, kissing the top of your head, “I’m gonna cum for you, hm?” He smiles, watching your face as you eagerly nod. “Deep breath for me, pretty girl,” He grins hard, a giant smile on his face as you follow his instructions. He carefully pulls your mask off, wasting no time in slamming his lips onto yours. He devours your whines, whimpers, and moans, greedily taking them as his hips continue to pump against you. He kisses you until he cums, getting lost in the feel of your lips against his. You whimper as you feel him moan into your mouth, hands beginning to press against his biceps.

“My mate,” You whimper, reaching for his hand that still holds your mask. He quickly gets the message, placing it back onto your face.

“Yawne, my girl,” He sighs softly, hips still grinding against yours as he rides out his high with you. “Need you to cum again,” He mumbles against your lips, knowing you weren’t able to cum with him. “Just one more, one more. This will be the last, I promise love,” He almost babbles against your skin, kissing it.

“I can't, Neteyam,” You whine as his hands trail in between your legs, gently spreading your thighs to allow for more access. Your thighs are no match for his strength, whimpering gently when his fingers ghost across your clit.

“You can, yawne, for me, please?” He grins softly, a bit of a smirk spreading across his face. The smile never leaves his face as your hands grip hard at his wrists, discoloring his skin from the pressure. Neteyam is obsessed with the way your skin flushes for him, puffy swollen lips parting as he fingers slide in between them. He could watch it for hours, sit here and please you for hours if you’d let him.

A moan rips past your lips when two of his digits slip into your heat, filled to the brim from just his fingers. Your nails dig into his skin, clenching down around him almost impossibly tight. His eyes are narrowed in, mesmerized as his fingers disappear into you. Neteyam curls his fingers just right, an even louder moan. Your hips jerk hard, legs lifting and wrapping around his arms. “Feels too good,” You whine, thighs locking around him.

“Cum for me, Y/n,” He groans, prying your legs apart and replacing it with his head. The pleasure is still too much, legs wrapping around his head as his mouth and fingers never cease for a second.

“Gonna cum for you, gonna cum hard,” You groan, flexing slightly as you grind against his face. Your orgasm blinds you when it washes over you, legs shaking, chest rising and falling rapidly, stomach clenching hard as you rise up. You cum hard, squirting as Neteyam’s fingers still curl and grind into your soft walls. Neteyam has a crazed look on his face, eyes wide as he stares up at you. He's covered in your cum and arousal, just like you're covered in his currently.

“Y/n,”

“Neteyam I’m sorry I’ve never done-“

“Do it again,”

“No, please, Nete,” You whimper loudly, as his fingers curl just right, pleasure washing over you just right. It takes the last bit of your energy, cumming all over his arm in waves as you shake in his hold. Your hands immediately pull his face out from your thighs as you calm him down. He slowly relents, gentle as he removes himself from you.

“Thank you, my mate,” He smiles, “Love you so much,”

“Love you too,”

“Come, let’s go clean up,” He’s careful as he picks you up, leaving your items where they lay. He carefully makes his way over to the river, slowly stepping in as you hold onto his neck, legs wrapped around his torso. A giant smile spreads across your face as he lowers the both of you in, water up to your necks now.

“I'm sorry I’ve been so busy recently, Neteyam,” You smile, pushing back some braids that have fallen from his efforts. “Trying hard to get everything quickly,” You grin, hand softly holding his cheek in your hold, “So I can be a good Tsahìk for the people, for you,”

“I know you will,” He speaks softly, allowing his head to fall forward, pressing his forehead against yours, “I understand, I just miss you,” He instinctively curls into your touch where it rests on his cheek.

“I miss you too, your grandmother asks me about you sometimes. She told me Eywa sees us,”

“Oh, is that so?” He entertains you, smiling when he pulls back. He's standing, but you’re solely relying on him to not have to tread the water and use up what little energy you have left. “What does she wanna know?”

“Eh, you know. The basic grandma stuff, if you’re eating well, staying safe,” You smile, cupping some of the water and dragging it along his face. You clean him up, leaning back in his embrace when you’re satisfied with the job. His arms hold you, hands splayed across your back. “If you’re happy these days.”

“Of course I am, yawne, I have you,” His voice is sincere and gentle as he pulls you close, tucking your head into his shoulder as he holds the base of your neck. “All I need.”

@rainbowsocks @nerys-nerie bc you guys commented on the other post, luv uuuu

375 notes · View notes

hawkinsquarry · 1 year

Note

❝ please don’t go— i need. i need someone— i need you. ❞ and ❝ it doesn’t have to mean anything, i just don’t wanna feel lonely tonight. and i want to feel good for once. ❞ is making me feel things. honestly needy steve begging to not be lonely sounds lovely but either way ❤️

how could i say goodbye? - steve x gn!reader

no pronouns for reader used; fluff, angst; hurt/comfort; sharing a bed; friends to lovers; love confessions; steve cry :(; brief mention of p*rn section at fam video but nothing in depth!

You’ve seen Steve like this before. Beaten up, bruised, a bit bloody. You’ve seen him wear the scars after. Borrowing Robin’s concealer for a cut lip and making up lies about being a klutz. You’ve bandaged him up, grabbed an ice pack and a handful of ibuprofen and sat them down on his bedside table, taking in his sleeping face before shutting off the light and going home.

This time, he’s scared. Everyone is. The world’s up in smoke and fire and tens of people are missing or dead. You’d wrung your hands the entire walk to Steve’s at 2 am, just as big military vehicles are pulling in. You couldn’t sleep, not knowing what’s become of him, and you’re relieved when his big, dumb house is in view, intact. A warm light on in his bedroom window. His car in the driveway, his dad’s car not.

Steve’s terrified when he opens the door, but his features soften immediately. His shirt’s off. You notice the lacerations on his torso immediately, but Steve’s pulling you in and locking the door before you can ask.

“Did you walk here?” is the first thing he says. You shrug, and he sighs loudly before wrapping you up in his arms. He smells like earth. “I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

“Lines are down anyway,” you mumble into his shoulder, trying not to kiss the skin as much as you want to. “What happened?”

He sighs again. “Not an earthquake.”

“I know.”

“Guess you could tell I needed a nurse, huh?”

You don’t think it’s very funny, but you lead him to the bathroom, picking out the first aid kit you’d last restocked in July. “Think you’ll need to lay down,” you say, gently kicking the cabinet under the sink shut. “Bedroom.”

You work gently and diligently on his stomach. He’d sworn to you it was already disinfected by the same people who partially cleaned him up after Starcourt. You still apply alcohol, much to his dismay. But even when he’s wincing, he’s quiet. Steve’s not known to be quiet. Your anxiety nearly gets the best of you, almost screaming at him when you ask again, “What happened?”

He stares at you for a long time, brown eyes starting to wet. “Not tonight,” he says.

“Robin?”

“She’s alive, too. Almost -“ and he takes a deep breath, pauses when you dab some more isopropyl on his spent skin. “Eddie.” It’s all he says. You bite at your cheek. You didn’t know Eddie well, and you’ve still got a lot of questions - but it’s a confirmation that those you know who usually get into these kinds of messes are okay.

You’re not unaware of the pointed use of the word alive and not okay. He was okay after 1984, and okay again after 1985, but 1986 only brings the word alive.

You use gauze to wrap the cuts on his stomach before taking another once over of him. He’s still so beautiful, even caked with mud and dirt and some weird thick gross slime that he’d only moaned a little don’t ask about. “Your neck,” you whisper, brows furrowing.

He nods a bit. “Hurts.”

You disinfect it, too, gently dabbing him with a cotton pad. “Hurts to swallow? To talk?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s okay,” you soothe, “I’ll stop askin’ questions now.”

“Don’t,” he whispers, suddenly grabbing your wrist. “Keep talking. Please.”

You swallow and nod before continuing your work. “My house is fine. It looks most bad in downtown - I guess you already know that? The phone lines - I said that already. Guess what I did today?”

A hint of a smile. He shrugs a shoulder.

“I finally checked out the porn section at Family Video.”

His smile grows.

“Which I guess was really good timing. But Keith was there - something about how his employees didn’t show up? Do you know anything about that?”

“Nothing,” he mouths.

“I didn’t rent anything,” you continue, “I just wanted to look. And I guess - I guess I just wanted to see you, too.”

His big eyes get all soft again. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” You dab away the last remnants of blood from his neck and pull back to throw the cotton pad in the trash. “Shouldn’t apologize for saving the world.”

You’re prepping a band aid for a cut on his head when he whispers, “We didn’t this time.”

You look back at him in a little bit of shock. Yes, the things always come back. But he’s never come back and said “yeah, we really dropped the ball this time.” He’s always been relatively confident, giving it “an eighty to eighty-five percent chance” that this was the last time.

“Zero percent,” he says, like he’s reading your mind. “We didn’t.”

“Let’s worry about that tomorrow, okay? I saw those big government vehicles - they’ll help.”

He makes a face that tells you everything. They won’t. They don’t know how.

“I’m sorry,” you say, leaning back towards him and resting your hands on his chest.

You see his adam’s apple bob. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it safe for you.”

Steve has never cried before in front of you. He’s gotten close, but just walked away, pinching his nose and coming back a few minutes later like nothing ever happened. But now, he’s crying. It’s soft, a few tears riding down his cheeks.

“Steve.” Your voice cracks. “None of this is your fault. None of it. You can’t save the world. I’m - I’m so happy you’re safe.” You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, trying to fight off a sob. “I’m just glad you came home.”

He closes his eyes and bites his lip. You move away with your kit, placing it on his desk before moving back to him. You push his hair out of his face softly. “Get some sleep. Okay?”

Steve’s eyes shoot open and he looks scared again. Panicked. He shakes his head and grabs your hands, pulling you into him so far that you almost trip and fall on top of him. “Please don’t go. I need - I need someone. I need you.”

Your heart jumps up to your throat and you swallow thickly. He’s never asked you for this before. And he’s genuine - his eyes are wild and still wet and he looks so, so scared. Scared of losing you.

“Okay,” you whisper. “I’ll get some blankets and -“

“Here,” he says, tugging you in again. “I - look, I know. But it doesn’t have to mean anything. I just don’t wanna feel lonely tonight. I want to feel good for once. I - goddammit. I want you. Please.”

I want you. It rings in your head. I want you.

You move to the other side of the bed and slide under the covers, cuddling up close to him. Steve turns onto his side as best as he can - you’d chosen his good side to lay beside. You wrap him in your arms as he rests his head on your chest. His grip on you is tight and it has to hurt. His muscles have to be screaming at him to stop and rest. But he holds you like you might get taken, too, along with all the others.

And he cries. You feel the tears soaking through your shirt. He tries his best not to make any noise, but he still sniffles and clears his throat. You rake your hand through his hair and hold him as tight as you can, too.

“Steve,” you whisper. “I love you. I just - I had to say it.”

There’s a pause, a shaky breath, before he pushes himself up to kiss you. It’s small and otherwise insignificant, but warm and sweet and what you’ve wanted for years. You’re surprised when he pulls back, but you melt as he whispers, “I love you, too.”

He settles into your chest again, and you resume combing his hair, heart pounding. “I’m here. Okay? I’ll take care of you. Just rest. I love you.”

He sighs and relaxes. “I love you, too.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #han posts

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totheblood · 1 year

Note

hi!! would you consider writing reader x ellie one shot where ellie is oblivious while reader keeps flirting with her lol. thank you so much and i hope u have nice rest of the day/night <3

thick skull

pairing: ellie williams x afab!reader

warnings: bad writing?? maybe.. idk how to flirt soooo

summary: you are really bad at flirting and ellie thinks it very cute.

a/n: i am getting to the requests, slowly but surely. i hope u all like it and leave me some feedback! i truly am really bad at flirting though so this was a challenge soooooo yeah, thank u anon for the request.

you didn't think ellie was dumb.

but a part of you was now starting to think that she had missed every hint that you were throwing her way. forget batting your eyelashes or purposefully pushing your shirt down when talking to her, she just did not seem to get it.

a sick part of you started to worry that maybe you were the idiot and she had known the entire time but that was her subtle way to reject you. you had also known that wasn't true.

you had saw ellie walking down the road from your window and rushed out to join you.

"ellie! wait up!" you called out for her, tripping over your boots as you tried to put them on as you caught up to her. upon seeing you she gave you a warm smile, sizing you up.

"did you just wake up?" she asked as she slowed her step to walk in line with you.

"no, i saw you through the window and i missed you so i thought we could catch up." you offered her a smile back as you kicked some snow beneath your feet.

"you missed me?" she chuckled, smirking to her self. "you just saw me yesterday."

"' 's still way too long," you blinked up at her "needed my ellie fix immediately after you left."

"you're too nice to me." she brushed her shoulders against yours, before holding open the door to the diner.

"you say that too much." and she did, it was almost always what she said whenever you said something remotely flirty to her.

"your hands are cold, let me warm them up for you."

"you're too nice to me."

"that shirt looks really good on you, ellie"

"you're way too nice to me. wanna borrow it?"

"you're cute when your angry."

"yeah, cause i'm never angry at you."

one time she had made you a bracelet out of scrap material she had found, when she found out you were still wearing it months after she gave it to you she brought it up again.

"you're still wearing the bracelet i made you?" she asked, making you glance down at your wrist.

"oh yeah, it's like my good luck charm." you could practically feel the heat in your cheeks.

''haha... sick." was all ellie said before returning to wiping down the counter not knowing that was your last straw.

"sick? are you serious?" you practically spat making ellies head shoot upwards, confusion evident on her face.

"i mean..." ellies eyes darted around looking for anything that could possibly help her. "it's cool that you are still wearing it. i really appreciate it."

"it's not just cool? it's cute, i'm trying to be cute." if ellie looked confused before, she couldn't possibly fathomed what she looked like right now.

"you don't really have to tr-" ellie started.

"do you not like me back or something because this is becoming exhausting? i flirt with you and then you tell me that i'm too nice to you or some shit like that like i'm not practically throwing myself at you every second of every day. it's embarassing." you managed to get all of it out but were quickly disappointed when you saw ellie laughing.

"you were flirting?"

"don't laugh at me."

"baby, i'm not laughing at you, i'm laughing at how stupid i've been." you would be lying if you didn't say the sudden use of the nickname didn't make your stomach flutter.

"you seriously didn't notice?" you asked, your confidence now completely gone.

"nope." she replied, popping the 'p'. "you're lucky you're so cute because you really suck at flirting."

"no i do not."

"you totally do."

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams oneshot #ellie williams imagine #tlou 2 #the last of us part two

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maybank-archives · 6 months

Text

jealous - jj maybank

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

warning: +18. NSFW CONTENT. MINORS DNI. public sex. fingering. vaginal sex. unprotected sex. language. dirty talking.

word count: 1.4k

author’s notes: that's a wrap, speaking of it, use protection kids :)

masterlist | join the taglist | kinktober masterlist!!!!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Sure, this doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all, hooking up with your friend, what could possibly go wrong?

I sat there watching the third touron flirt with him as he poured their drinks. Sure, we are not a couple or anything, but we have been mackin' each other for a while now and who knew that I would suck in this whole no-strings-attached thing? All I know is I was dumb enough to go along with it. This is classic JJ.

I was able to ignore him for most of the night, until now. I saw him getting closer in my periphery but my proud self pretended to be busy talking to Sarah or even looking at the people.

“Can I offer you, ladies, fun?” JJ says handing Sarah a drink and holding out his hand. He waited for my response as Sarah grabbed hers.

“No, thank you,” I tell him without moving an inch.

“C’mon Y/N, I'm already here, just take it.” He insisted

“I’m good Maybank, I need to take care of something actually, I’ll be right back Sarah.”

Lies, I just didn’t want to stay around him, I don’t even know why I’m this annoyed. For my luck there were a bunch of girls gathered at the bathroom door, Fuck that, I needed another way out. I walked out of the bar on the beach and made my way to the street.

“Hey, Y/N, wait up.” I hear JJ’s voice behind me.

“Go away JJ” I shout.

“Woah, what are you doing?”. He asks, grabbing my hand.

“I'm going home. Why do you care?.” I said reaching for my keys in the back pocket of my jeans skirt.

“Your home is not this way, what’s wrong?.” he insisted.

I didn’t answer. JJ snatches the keys out of my hand which made me sigh loud annoyed

“Can I have my keys back please?”

“Not until you start talking,” he said, pulling me into the back of the bar. “What the hell happened for you to start acting like a brat?”

“I don't know, why don't you ask your new friends?.” I replied with a dry tone. “I didn't know they were your type by the way,” I added, reaching for my keys but JJ was faster and held them high.

His blue eyes narrow with a hint of intrigue on them. A smirk showed up in the corners of his mouth as he realized. “And I had no idea you were the jealous type.” He teases, making you scoff.

“I just don't like being another one in your books, but it's ok, we can end this and you're free to have all the fun in the world.” My cheeks heat up.

“I'm not mackin’ anybody but you Y/N.”

“That’s not what it looks like.” I accuse.

“I’m sorry, did I miss something?.” He said

Damn him, how does he do this?

I want to kill myself. There’s no way I’ll say a word when he couldn’t be less bothered.

“Fine.” I swallow. “Can I go now?” I try to grab my keys but he keeps them out of my reach again.

“Nope, you’re still pissed,” he says flatly.

“I’m not.”

“Ha.Bullshit.What the fuck happened?” he snaps

“I’m not blind JJ, If you want to go, just go okay? I don't know what I'm still doing here.” I snap back “I’m… I’m done with this.” The words burst out before I could stop them. “Whatever this is. It's done okay?”

JJ’s eyebrows are furrowed. His expression is a mix of confusion and shock. “Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“No way,” he says again. “You can’t just call it off without giving me a good reason.”

“I don't like to see how you look to other girls.”

That sounds insane if I say it out loud. Who the fuck am I?

“Are you telling me you’re not into me anymore? Is that the deal?”

“No. But—”

“There are no ‘buts’, baby doll. It’s a simple yes or no answer,” he whispered, leaning in. My breath hitched. Fuck. His gaze held mine, leaving me unsure if it was anger or just desire.

“I-I don’t have a reason,” I confess trying to escape

“How about I help you clear your mind and decide? How does that sound?” He said putting my keys into his pocket.

Before I can realize it, I’m against the wall and his mouth is inches away from mine. Luckily, I guess, we’re almost hidden between a dumpster and a bunch of cardboard boxes. JJ’s scent made my brain foggier as he pressed his body onto mine.

“Why didn’t you tell me you needed my attention baby?.”

I clench my jaw.

“So you’re still into me?” He places his thighs between both of mine, grinding me against his erection.

I’m trying so hard to focus that it’s impossible for me to reply.

“Something tells me you still do.” His lips brush over my ear, making my nipples sensitive against the lace of my bra.

I’m frozen in place, it’s ridiculous how wet I’m. Now I remembered why I was so attracted to JJ in the first place.

His blue eyes are deep and penetrating, locked onto mine. I watch him smirk and push the hem of my skirt up, cupping my core. I arched my back under his touch.

JJ doesn’t seem to care that we’re in public, he dips his finger under the crotch of my panties rubbing the wetness. “Yup, seems bout right.” He murmurs as his lips kiss my neck. He pushes one finger inside and my muscles tightenin around it.

His lips found their way to mine. He’s hesitant for a second watching me lean closer.

“I knew you wouldn’t resist.” He mocks crashing our lips eagerly.

Oh God. This feels sinful. All I can concentrate on is the unbearable pleasure centered between my legs. JJ keeps fingering me as he devours my lips. He bites the bottom of my lip as he breaks the kiss.

“You’re so needy. It’s super hot.”

“J...People can see us, please.” I whine

“Let’s give them a show then,” JJ adds another finger, curling them inside me, my vision gets dark as hits a spot deep down. I moan embarrassingly loud. I Rock against his hand, no longer protesting.

My vision comes back, focusing when JJ takes his fingers out of me. He unzips his shorts watching me. I should definitely protest to that, someone really might see us. But the only response I could give, was a nod with my head.

JJ flashed me a mischievous smile before sping me around in the wall.

His breath fans over my neck as he lifts my skirt more. I can tell how long I’ll last. JJ has the ability of knowing how my body works. That’s why I collapsed under his touch in seconds. The thrill of everything about this moment also wasn’t a big help.

JJ gives a deep thrust as his hand is wrapped under my throat. I grip my hands onto JJ’s waist as he increases the pace.

“I’m not gonna last long princess.” He murmurs as his hands are now on my waist lifting my ass. “You better cum faster.” I spread my legs wider as he says.

Crazy to think that a few minutes ago I was so against the idea of being fucked in public.

JJ flips me over again, this time facing me, he grabs one of my legs to his hips, I wrap around him deepening the contact, JJ gives me a wet kiss on my chest and a big suck on the skin of my neck. The orgasm races through me and leaves me breathless. I feel my legs shake. I held onto JJ’s shoulders as I whined. JJ gives a barely audible groan and buries his head between my neck and shoulder as he pumps into me.

He wasn’t kidding. He comes so fast that is hard to decide whether I should be impressed or tease him about it. He pushed his shaft into me one last time as his hand clamped my tight and hip.

Both of us breathless, we hear voices around us, I push JJ away and shove my dress down. JJ peeks and sees some figures pass us by a few steps away without realizing our presence.

JJ tucks his still-hard cock into his shorts looking to the sides.

“For a person that was talking about giving a show, you look very concerned,” I teased fixing my clothes.

“And for a person who was wet just from talking to me, you still act very bitchy. Didn’t I fucked you right?”

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✧˚ . taglist ˚✧ (join here): @loverofmarsss,

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wingedjellyfishflight · 15 days

Text

Recruit Pick-Up Lines

You're out with the team, in the pub the guys always pick when the recruits wander in. Most of the team groans. It's the worst part of bringing in the greenhorns. They think they have more social capital built up than they ever could in a lifetime, and as one of the few women, you bear the brunt of it.

Sure enough, one of the recruits immediately says, "Is it hot in here, or is it just you?" Your lip curls, but you don't respond, just taking a drink of your beer. He tries again, "Do you have a map? Because I could get lost in your eyes." The men around you groan and start taking the piss.

"This fuck thinks that's gonna get him laid."

"Shhh... I want to hear his next dumb line." The recruit falters slightly at their not so quiet words, but forges ahead all the same.

"Did anyone order some," he flexes his arms. "FREEDOM?!" You laugh, stunned that he thinks that would work in any universe. He thinks he is in, though, and he moves closer, ready to follow it up.

"Did you hear that twat?! That is the worst one, yet!" Ghost can't contain himself a moment longer, laughing with his head thrown back, tears streaming down his face.

"Fine, you do better, sir!" There was such a complete lack of respect in his words that Ghost sobered immediately. He turns to you, a smirk under his mask.

"Wan sum fuk?" You jokingly nod enthusiastically before laughing.

"Ok, now do it all proper, Ghost. See if you can pick me up." The wink he sends you is sexier than it should be. Must be the drinks, but you haven't even finished a pint.

"Luv, I have sat at this table week after week trying to work up the courage to ask you to join me on that dance floor and never managed it, no matter how many drinks I take on board or how sober I am at the end of the night. I suppose it is now or never. Will you do me the honor of having a dance with me?"

You smile softly. "We have something in common then. I would love to, handsome." He freezes, seemingly trying to gauge if you are joking. You stand and offer him your hand. He excitedly accepts, and soon you are cheek to cheek on the dance floor.

"Finally! They've been mooning at each other for months!" Gaz sighs, handing a stack of bills to Soap. "Missed the mark by a month."

"I didn't have this month, mate." Soap refuses the money with just a hint of frustration.

"Then, who did?" Gaz can't remember anyone else joining in on this bet.

Soap is already paging through a small notebook and holds up a finger. The recruit decides to make himself scarce, having failed thoroughly.

"She did. It was her! She wasn't even part of the betting pool. How did she make a bet?" From the dance floor, they hear Ghost's loud laughter boom out again, surprising them as they've never seen him so carefree. You're grinning up at him like it's the best thing you have ever heard.

"She rigged it! They aren't going out..." Just then, you tug up Ghost's mask and kiss him passionately. "Well, umm... I guess she won, then." It's only moments later that you stumble out the door, dragging a dazed Ghost with you, intending to show him exactly what you've both been missing.

#call of duty #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader

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angel-of-the-moons · 7 months

Text

A Rose Under the Moon

Moon Knight System (Marc/Steven/Jake) x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Domestic violence mentions, hints at child abuse, child abuse mentions violence, phantom pains

MINORS DNI: I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Again, none of this is beta read. We die like the younglings Anakin snuffed in the Jedi Temple

Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @shirukitsune @bad4amficideas

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Chapter 3:

The Victims

You sighed, checking the little egg timer in your apron pocket to see how long until the scones you were baking had left in the oven. Fifteen minutes. Ugh.

It had been a few days since Steven had come in and purchased his pillar of books. The two of you would make small talk, him thumbing through books and rambling about a subject on ancient Egypt that he knew. The moment you brought up your own obscure facts you have memorized from the things your father would read to you as a little girl, Steven’s eyes lit up and he got the biggest grin on his face, and launched himself headlong into info-dump mode. It was kinda cute, really, how excitable he got. You could tell the poor guy probably didn’t have many friends, aside from his brothers, whom he’d told you about, and a friend named Layla. You also found it endearing how his messy, bed-raggled curls would flop over his face, or how animated he’d seem when he would interrupt himself to bring up another fun fact…

But, it had been a day or two since he’d come in last. And to be honest, you kinda miss the guy. He was probably the nicest most engaging customer you had. He even admitted that he didn’t come in just for the books. He told you he liked your teas and treats, and he loved the comfortable atmosphere of your shop over a crowded cafe. But one day, he just had to ask:

“I’ve been meaning to ask…” He started, looking at the muffin in his hand.

“Hm?” You hummed as you stocked shelves.

“Are these… vegan?” He seemed hesitant to touch the muffine now, as if it were poisoned.

You giggle softly. “Yes, actually. I try to use recipes that everyone can enjoy. Vegan, gluten-free…”

“Oh! Wonderful!” He scarfed the muffin down rather quickly after that, his nose buried in the textbook on archaeology he had in his hands.

You set your phone down as you sipped your spiced tea. It was a rather cold and gloomy day today, not uncommon this late in the year, but still, it sucked. It reminded you of where you grew up in Maine, off the coast. Storms blew in all the time, you’d remember as a little girl getting up in the morning, wanting to run outside and play, just to be met with a dark and angry sky, blistering winds, and pelting rain.

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Your poor little six-year-old heart was crushed one day when a particularly bad squall blew into town, and you were trapped within the confines of your house, arms crossed, feet firmly planted as you glared out the window, lip wobbling.

How dare the weather ruin your plans for the day? You were going to play in your treehouse! Now the stupid wind was gonna blow it away! And if it did, your father would have to build another one, and that would take forever!

“Hey, there, Lil’ Bit.” Your dad said, kneeling behind you, as you stubbornly looked out the window in a seething rage. So, so angry for a little girl. You inherited your temper from your mother, surely. Though you personally never saw her mad, of course. Ever. But then again, she worked so much…

Your mom was what your dad told you was a “breadwinner”, which was a term you found dumb. You mom never entered contests and she certainly never won bread as a prize. It was so dumb! Why did adults have to use such dumb words for things?

“Hey, kiddo.” Your dad sang, leaning forward from where he was crouched to put his chin on your tiny shoulder.

“No, daddy, ‘m angy.” You mumbled, trying to shrug him off as lightning flashed in the distance.

He chuckled, his voice warm, much like your favorite pair of fuzzy socks after they were just taken out of the dryer. “Come on, princess. It’ll pass. They always do.”

“But why did it have t’ do it today!” You whined, not budging.

“Dunno, kid. The sky just felt like dumping buckets, I guess.” He said, humoring you.

“Daddy...” You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Clouds don’t use buckets!”

“Sure they do!” He grinned, waggling his eyebrows at you. “You just never see em!”

“You’re silly.” You scoff.

“You’re silly!” Your dad laughed, scooping you up and spinning you around, finally getting a smile out of you as you shriek in laughter.

He tucked you against his chest and kissed you on your forehead. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s get you some sna–”

His eyes went wide and he gasped when you writhed, crying out and wincing like you’d just been struck.

“Babygirl, what’s wrong?” He asked, hurriedly sitting you on the couch as you curled in on yourself. He could see the welts start to peek out from beneath the sleeves of your little pink shirt.

It was happening again.

The pain in his heart gripped him like ice, knowing he couldn’t do anything to ease the pain his daughter was feeling. His poor, poor baby girl, whose soulmate was constantly being inflicted with whatever horrors they faced with.

He would curse it, sometimes. Your mark. Your bond. You were already enduring abuse that wasn’t directed at you. Or maybe it was in a way… Given that it was happening to your other half. Who you would one day meet. Maybe things will be better, when you had. Maybe.

But one thing was for sure, he hated whomever was inflicting those injuries on your soulmate more. Not only were they hurting your soulmate, they were hurting you. He’d imagined that you were close in age. If so, who the hell would abuse a child in such a way? The concept was completely foreign to him.

He rubbed your back, murmuring sweet and loving things to you.

He noticed something odd about your mark about a few years ago, right when the welts and bruises started to show and you would recoil in phantom pain... There was a new addition to your mark. At first it was one crescent moon. But then one became two, and two became three.

Right now, the bottom right moon was full.

He wasn’t sure what it meant… But he noticed your crying slow to soft little hiccups and sniffles as you sit up, rubbing your eyes.

He rested his forehead against yours. “It’ll be okay, sweetheart. I promise.”

“I jus’ wanna know why it hurts so much, daddy.” You sniffle.

“Trust me, I know. Me and your mom are similar. I remember when we were kids, before we met… She fell from a tree and broke her leg. Man, it hurt so bad…”

You looked up at him, your big beautiful eyes glistened with tears. Your mother’s eyes. Little gems of hers that you would always have.

“Really?” You peeped.

“Really.” He stood and walked over to the bookshelf above the living room fireplace, and plucked a book off of it. He turned back to you and sat next to you, pulling you into his lap and kissing the top of your head.

“This book came from your great auntie over in London. You remember her, yeah?” He hummed.

Your fingers grazed the cover, old and worn, obviously well-read and well-loved. It had a picture of a woman with wings and a pretty dress on it. You couldn’t read the other words on it just yet, you were still learning how to read the bigger ones.

“Want me to read you some of the stories in it?” He inquired.

“Uh-huh.” You nod.

Your father flipped the pages open, and hummed again, softer.

“Now, let’s start with the tale of Isis and the Seven Scorpions…”

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

You jumped, almost dropping the egg timer you had in your hand when your shop’s door dinged and swung open. A frantic young woman rushed inside, her sunken and baggy eyes looking at you, wide with fright.

You skipped the usual welcome and regarded her with a confused expression.

“I… Can I help you–”

“Please, I just need to–to hide!” She said, rushing over to you and gripping your hand, pulling you behind her and further into the winding shelves that made up your bookstore.

“Hey, Hey.” You say, putting your hands on her shoulders. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“My–my boyfriend. He… He’s… I messed up and burned lunch and…” She looked to the side trying to check if he somehow didn’t materialize out of thin air over her shoulder when she wasn’t looking; and when she did… you saw them.

The already darkening bruises on her delicate throat.

Immediately you went into protector mode. You gently urge her towards the door leading to the stairwell that went up to your flat above.

“You hide up there, and call 999, okay?” You say to her. “You can stay here until the police arrive. If it makes you feel safer, there’s a deadbolt to the door up there. If your boyfriend comes in I’ll act like I didn’t see anything.”

You rush to the oven when you hear the timer go off, and pull out the scones (after slipping on your mitts), when the bell to your store dings.

You curse under your breath and say to the girl quietly. “Stay quiet, honey. I’ll be up when the police get here.”

You carefully slip the tasty treats onto a plastic tray and toss the pan into the sink with a clang; instantly regretting it when the young woman flinched and curled into herself, her arms instinctively reaching to cover her head.

You muttered and apology and balanced the pan on your hand as you hastily make your way down the stairs, to see whomever was incessantly dinging your “ring me!” button at the register.

When you finally break free of the labyrinthine bookshelves, you spot a rather large and angry looking man.

This had to be the boyfriend.

“Hello, one moment, please.” You say tersely, sliding the scones into the small display case showcasing the fresh treats of the day.

“Oi, you seen somebody come in here?” He demanded gruffly.

You take another visual sweep of his appearance. Rather big build, probably abuses the gym too much. He looks like he exclusively dines on protein shakes more than food… He could be trouble, if he got violent. The only upside is that you knew the layout of your little shop by heart, he didn’t. You really wished you had a gun under the counter, right about now.

You made a mental note to sign up for the courses and get the certificate from the police..

“Other than you, no, you’d be my first customer of the day.” You force the cheer into your tone as you bring a box of books and begin to half-assedly place them, hoping to look normal.

“Ain’t no fuckin’ customer.” He growled. “Don’ want no books.”

“Well, I also offer a variety of coffees, teas, and snacks–”

“I ain’t no fuckin’ customer!” He barked, getting in your face.

You could smell the alcohol on his breath. That explains the slurred speech.

“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask that you please back away, you’re a little too close…” You say, your hands up in a submissive gesture, hoping to appear as non-threatening as possible.

"Does it look like I giv' a fuck? Ya fuckin' muppet?" He hissed at you, his eyes dilated and glassy.

"Look, I don't want to cause trouble, but–"

He seized your arm and gripped it painfully tight, you could feel the crunch of your radiocarpal joint being squeezed under his rough and indelicate fingers. "Did ya hear me, ya fuckin' cunt? I'm lookin' for my girl, I know she came in here! Don't lie t' me!"

"Sir, people come into my store all the time, and it's not really my business why unless they buy a book or a muffin. Let me go!" You retort, trying to pry his fingers from around you with your free hand.

"Shut th' fuck up!" He snarled, pushing you back against the bookshelf so hard the back of your head cracked on one of the shelves. Great, another pain.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" An unmistakably American accent called from the door of your shop.

How had you missed the bell? How did you not notice the sound of the door opening?

The drunken man holding you turned, still gripping you. "Great, another fuckin' yank? Can't you fucks stick to ya own country?"

You felt your pulse quicken, and your eyes widened at the man who stood in the door; dark, honey-tinted eyes aflame with anger. But the man the eyes belonged to?

Dead ringer for Steven. But he carried himself entirely differently, he even had his hair styled back in a different way. He wore a white hoodie, faded blue jeans, and some steel-toe boots.

"None o' ya fuckin' busniess, you dick." The man sneered, looking back down at you.

"It is if you're hurting the lady." He said gruffly.

"Oi, you got a listening problem?"

The man turned again, but he was met with the knuckles of the American man who just came to your aid; straight to his jaw, knocking him back against a cart you had full of discount books, sending them to the floor with a clatter.

The man cracked his knuckles, before gently grabbing you by the shoulder and moving you behind him for cover.

At this distance you could just barely catch a whiff of sandalwood and some kind of spice. A hint of aftershave wafted into your senses in accompany.

"You fuckin' dick!" The man grunted, shaking his head in an attempt to reorient his brain.

"You need a better repertoire of insults, buddy. Or stop hitting the sauce." The other man sneered. "Probably both."

The drunk lunged at him, and this guy was one step ahead, intercepting him by grabbing his wrists.

The crunch of bone was enough to make you squeeze your eyes shut, and when you dared to peek again, the drunk was clutching at his now bleeding and broken nose. Your savior on the other hand?

Barely broke a sweat. He headbutted him with the hardest part of his head, crunching bone and cartilage.

"Stay down, asshole." He growled. You spun on your heels to look at the door when two clothed officers came in, hands on their pepper spray.

"Everybody just calm down!" One of them shouted.

Ugh. Now you had a headache…

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

By the time the officers, the battered girl, and her boyfriend all left, it was just you and your knight in shining hoodie. Who looked way too much like Steven.

You sat him down at one of the reading nooks and shakily wring your hands out to calm down. "Uh… Yeah, so…" You try.

"My name's Marc. Marc Spector." He said. "You, uh… met my brother, already. Steven."

You gasp. "The heathen!"

He choked out a startled laugh. "What?"

"Oh! Uhhhhhh…" You clear your throat awkwardly trying to change the subject. "You and Steven have different last names!"

Marc huffed through his nose. "It's uh… a long story."

"What, were you guys separated at birth or something? He speaks with a typical Londoner accent, you're full-blown American." You smile.

"Or something." Marc murmured, unable to meet your eyes.

"God, and Steven and I joked about my life being a setup for a book." You giggle softly. "You guys sound like you're straight out of a Dickens novel!"

Marc kind of squirmed in his seat. "Yeah…"

"So, uh… what brings you here today? From what Steven told me, you don't exactly pick up books all the time like he does." You say to him, tilting his head.

Marc wiped at his face with a groan, "Ugh. Don't get me started on Steven's books! He has too goddamn many–"

"Ah!" You say, flicking a stray curl. You weren't sure why your brain told you that was okay to do. It just felt right. The look he gave you afterwards sent your heart leaping into your throat.

Raw confusion, maybe some surprise?

"Uh… No talking like that is allowed in my store, there, pal…" You stammer out. "So… why are you here?"

"Steven said you had coffee. Didn't feel like dealing with a lot of people today." He kind of mumbled.

"Oh, I get that." You sighed softly in sympathy. Already, Marc struck you as the kinda guy who didn't like dealing with people unless he had to.

And honestly, you kinda felt for the guy. Something about him made your heart twinge in a funny little way.

"Tell you what, as a thanks for helping take care of that asshat, coffee is on the house, and I'll even give you a cup of my personal blend instead of the stuff on the menu."

"Uh, you don't have to–"

"Ah!" You say, wagging a finger at him as you walk away. "None of that in my store!"

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

You sat and talked for a while. Hours, really. Whereas Steven loved to babble about things he knew, and was rather energetic about it, Marc was… reserved. Shy, almost. He was content to let you lead the conversations, piping in here or there on a subject.

He told you some about his time in the Marines, and how something happened to him mentally that got him discharged early. He was vague about what he did after that, but he mentioned moving to London after he and his wife ran into problems.

At first you almost asked a rather impertinent question, "Why did you guys split up?" But decided that was far too rude of a thing to ask. Even if you wondered why he married outside of a soulmate bond. Even if a marriage like that wasn't entirely uncommon…

"I'm sorry." You say softly, sitting across from him, your coffee long finished, the mug cold. "You've been through… a lot..."

"Yeah, you can certainly say that." Marc sighed, turning his mug in his hands for probably the hundredth time.

"So… Thanks again. For y'know. Helping me." You smile.

"No problem, easy enough to deal with a drunk." He shrugged. "And he looked like he was about to hurt you, so I had to do... something."

"Well I'm glad you did that something." You chuckle.

Marc cleared his throat and smiled back, a soft thing on his face, really. But it was nice to see.

He moved to stand, "I should, ah… go. Thanks for the coffee." He reached out to hand you a few notes from his wallet, and you declined, gathering the mugs to go wash them.

"Nope, I already said it was on the house." You tell him.

"But–"

"No buts!" You called out as you vanished into the expanse of bookshelves.

When you came back, you noticed that, stacked neatly on the counter, was a bundle of notes, your egg timer sitting neatly atop it, with a post-it note simply saying:

"Tell me your life story next time. Thanks. -Marc."

Chapter 4: Link

#A Rose Under the Moon #moon knight x you #moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #steven grant x reader #soulmate au

192 notes · View notes

cookierin-simp · 8 months

Text

CYBERSEX! - A DIRTY FANFICTION OF OBEY ME

“we do it the best….when we have cybersex”

Pairing : Mammon x fem reader

Warning: pure smut, jerking off, stranger to fuck, squirting, fingering, praising, encouragement, provocation

Note before reading: Mammon and MC are both stranger, they don’t know each other. Nada! No student exchange lore stuff!

Author note: HELLO GUYS I AM BACK. ITS MY BIRTHDAY TODAY SO I GAVE YALL A PRESENT *muah* I’m giving a google form at the end of the story for birthday wishes because I am a slut for attention <3

6:30PM

“Well! Ya prolly needa learn a thing or two about patience!”

“Says someone who stole my food!”

Mammon and Beelzebub had their mouths throwing words of condemnation as Lucifer stood between his two brothers, squeezing his nose bridge as he sighed in frustration. His shoes tapping the kitchen’s concrete floor, his other hand latching to his waist.

Satan and Asmodeus jumped to the crime scene, watching the heated arguments boiled tense inside the cookplace that had been destroyed in half by the orange beast. Beelzebub's wavering form trembled due to his struggle of not furthering any harm in the place.

Plus, he knew Lucifer would not tolerate far more ruckus.

“Listen, Mammon. Have you ever learned not to steal?” Lucifer growled with vapour hints to threaten him further. His crimson eyes flashed as he looked at Mammon.

The frosty haired demon stutters, finding his first brother’s glare as the second stage of his anger. “W-well! It's not stealing! I’m hungry! Aren’t we all family? We share things! That's what a family is!” Shouted the guy, constructing his reason well and brilliantly to trigger Lucifer’s weak spot by mentioning the words ‘family’. He knew that his sadistic brother would find his arguments logical. If anyone in this mansion understands how family works, Lucifer is the top so to speak.

Satan hummed cunningly, a devilish smirk painted his expression. “Mammon is dumb, but he even thinks his way to escape from Lucifer’s rage..”

Asmodeus crossed his arms to his chest, sighing awkwardly as his eyes stayed still to the spotlight of the show. “Maybe he could use that mind before eating Beel’s pudding…”

Having Lucifer’s eyes on Mammon did make the second born restless, but what was even more threatening was the way Beelzebub looked behind his first obstacle. Two beasts in front of him. One with sensible rage and the other just destroyed half of the kitchen because of a pack of convenience store bought custard.

Lucifer was back to rub his temple, while the hungry beast barked more and more insults and threats to Mammon that it was surprising to know how much of curse words the sixth born demon possesed.

“That’s it. You two. You are both grounded in your room for two days!” Lucifer confessed as he yelled, asserting dominance from Beelzebub ear-scratching abusive words. His hand stopped rubbing his forehead and both crossing to his chest, puffing up and confident with his punishments towards the two of his brothers.

Mammon clicked his tongue, hated the way he had to spend 48 hours inside his boring, luxurious room. It had nothing that could satisfy his sins. Sure, there was a big screen for the ultimate experience of watching movies, a pool, a personal computer set, etcetera..but all of it was a temporary experience of happiness. Plus, his favourite casino will be landing at the travelling carnival! He couldn’t possibly miss it! That casino changes their locations every week to blur the eyes of authorities, and keeping up with their route is exhausting.

“Why are ya punishin’ me like imma five years old?!” Mammon's accents thickened as well as his rebelliousness. Still not trying to lose the arguments that was clearly his fault to begin with. His yellow sunglasses properly to his face, meaning he actually planned to go out after eating the custards. Lucifer’s mind figured it out. Otherwise, Mammon would have just retreat and go to his room without being too defensive about it.

“Why? Are you planning to go anywhere?” Mammon’s upper brother asked, and for some reason did the chocolate skinned demon feel like he was a small statue. Lucifer cannot know about the casino. “If you feel like my punishment to you is lenient, I can put more rocks in your bag” stated him. Poetically, Lucifer means to put a heavier burden on Mammon’s body.

That made Mammon instantly react with fast head shakes. Satan smiled curtly and whispered to the interested Asmodeus. “His head is going to fall off”

“That’s more like it” Lucifer calmly says as he walks towards the kitchen’s exit. He eyed the two observant with no words, but Satan quickly grasped the order. The blonde sighed and muttered an agreement. “Yeah, yeah. I know a great contractor. I will ask him to fix this…”

Finding Satan's quick capture of his sign a relief, Lucifer’s nod sternly.

“And as for you two troublemakers. Go to your room. Now”

9:45 PM

“Graah! That ol’ man must be thinkin’ with his goddamn dick to put me ‘n here”

Laying on the bed with no motivation to complete any schoolwork ahead, Mammon positioned himself where his whole body starfishing his king-sized bed while his head hung low at the edge of it. Never minding the cold inside his bedroom, Mammon’s body latched with a thin white fabric called ‘singlet’ and paired it with his black shorts.

When the greedy Mammon gets uneasy and agitated, his thick accent surfaced, making people wonder if he was raised in the countryside. Lucifer had trained him well to suppress his style, but even the second, most powerful demons could slip from time to time.

Frustrated by the fact that his favourite casino is probably having all sorts of beauty over, the confined demon spit to the ground, but never really shoots his saliva out. “Curse ‘ya! Curse every second one of ‘ya!” He whined, tossing all the blankets and pillows away to the wall.

As the grousing subsided, Mammon finally sighs his defeat. “Curse ‘em? More like a curse on me…”

His feet touching together as he sat on the bed, both finger toes intertwining out of boredom when the out of blue message lit up his brand new phone. Mammon lazily plugged his phone off from the cable, and opened to see the texts

Bro levi : yo

Bro levi : should hv not ate that custard

Bro levi : *laughing sticker*

Mammon’s eyes glared disgustingly towards Leviathan’s provoking message. Being stuck in the room for two days is a thing, but to miss out on the opportunity to gamble is another crucial reason to be pissed off. Topped with his otaku-headed brother's unnecessary remarks, Mammon decided not to push his button further. Putting his phone down, the mocha tinted demon retreated.

Bro levi : yo

Bro levi : should hv not ate that custard

Bro levi : *laughing sticker*

Mammon : ✅✅ seen

And as he thought that ignoring his brother’s snarky remarks would help Leviathan to shut up, another notification came through

Bro levi : seen?

Bro levi : ight sorry kay

Bro levi : boot up your pc. Lets match

He let out a low growl.

Mammon : not feelin it

Mammon : ya winnin’ anyway

As five seconds passed, his brother quick to reply

Bro levi : aw man

Bro levi : pussy

Mammon’s fingers typed hurriedly

Mammon : a pussy wont eat Beel’s custard

He set the phone aside, watching his ceiling with a heavy heart. If he agreed to play games with Leviathan it would just be another frustrating event.

DING

Bro levi : mkay

Bro levi : i know you are lonely and all

Bro levi : but usually when I’m bored I go here

Bro levi : *send a link*

Bro levi : it's pairing you with random people on the internet. But be mindful that you can come across humans so don’t really act like a fucking demon

And so on, the notifications kept popping up from Mammon’s device, making him one step away from tossing it away just like the fate of his pillows. Yet, how dare he do such a thing? It is a brand new phone that he had shown off for a week to his brothers, and one of them is betting that he can’t take care of it. He intends to prove the cunning Satan of his wrong assumptions.

“Ya fuckin turd I already told ya I dont wanna any ma—“

His voice stuck to his throat when he realised Leviathan was not trying to convince him to match, but instead recommending a sketchy website to kill his boredom off. Mammon blinked once, twice, triple, quadruple and so on. His mind contemplates his brother's sudden kindness that is definitely uncomfortable. The dominant hand of his stretched the thumb to the link, ready to press it yet still trembled ever so slightly.

“Fuck ya if ya scammin’ me”

He clicked on the link, and a big banner popped on the screen of his smartphone

“FOR BEST EXPERIENCE, PLEASE USE YOUR DESKTOP. CONTINUE?”

Mammon clicked his tongue. The first impression he had with this page was ‘annoying and complicated’. Yet still he crawled down his bed, bare footed as he walked on the carpet floor of his bedroom. Curiosity and indignation mixed together when he reached his personal computer set, which was built by Leviathan himself. From branded CPU to the highest quality of face camera, all was like a professional gaming set picked by the master’s selection. The first time Leviathan set this up, Mammon was drooling and spent nearly ten hours battling online.

He grabbed his gaming leather chair, turned it around as he dove his bottom to the seat, moaning in pleasure at the way it supported his spine. His slim finger pushed certains buttons as the computer booted up, and it does not take long for it to be completely accessible.

“Now let's see…” he murmured, grabbing the wireless mouse with his right hand, and supporting his chin with the left one. His silver rings stacked gorgeously to his slender digits. As he opened the browser, Mammon’s left pinky brushed his lips, teasing his own opening.

Copy pasted the link to his computer, the site quickly unveiled. Revealing a black and gold themed colour as there was a message of permission greeting the demon’s quick eyes.

“THIS SITE REQUIRE THE ACCESS OF YOUR FACE CAM AND MICROPHONE.”

“GRANT THE PERMISSION?”

[] yes

[] No

Another sound of tongue clicking softly emits from Mammon’s lips. “Too many requirements. This better be worth some time”

“GRANT THE PERMISSION?”

[^] yes

[] No

Mammon jumped from his seat lightly as a live recording of him appeared to the left side of the website, while the chatting box was at the bottom. The empty square at the left side of his footage was empty. He stared to himself, biting his lips as the live recording of him mimics the very same action.

“Goddamn I look hot!” He cheered. Admiring his own beauty under the scope of a hundred grimms face camera. The button ‘start’ waits patiently for him to click, and for some reason Mammon finds the toggle even more appealing than his reflection on the screen. When his right hand landed back to the wireless mouse, he angled it there, but fingers hesitantly clicked to the mouse.

The other square box buffered slowly.

For references:

Fullscreen mode:

10:15 PM

“Fuck ya dickhead!”

He clicked the skipped button as soon as he finished off his curse. Mammon buried his head to his palm as the next pair was still buffering. For the past 35 minutes, all he had ever done was cursing out to impertinent fools he met. Some of them were by groups, some were solo and some were indecent kids biting his head off through offensive words of insults.

“Not fun at all! What the fuck!” His teeth greeted, raging chagrined dwell in him for trusting Leviathan. The man laid his back more, making the backrest recline in a jot as he manspread and both of his limbs cover his face. For once did Mammon find himself wanting to go all out with his rage, turning the mansion into dust. But as if it will gain another entertainment, sure not.

Grabbing his charged up phone, he pressed Leviathan’s contact number and use the tiny bits of grain left in his soul to patiently wait for his violet haired brother to pick up. His other hand rests onto the armrest, tapping all of his fingers like a wave, over and over until the coarse voice of his brother’s hail.

Leviathan : yo

Mammon : you dumbshit everyone here kept pulverising me

On the other line, Leviathan laughed his heart out, adding the fuel to the burning flames when he decided to blame Mammon for his lack of control in social skills. If it were up to Mammon's desire, he would throw bullets to Leviathan’s mean remarks. But in all honesty he needs to admit, he is kind of sick to have more fights today. His impatience towards the strangers online scaled up, just a push away for him to rebel against his own sensibility. Mammon groaned with each of Leviathan sarcastic comments, but never letting his mind speak of its own.

The devil wished for his God to send him a life saver, and the faint sound of the bell from the site blazed his speaker.

DING

Quickly reacting to the noise, Mammon’s eyes darted to the random pair that the site had just matched him with. His phone is still on the line with Leviathan who was still spouting disrespectful jokes. Tightening his grip to the device when he realises that this stranger stupefies him, to the point he almost loosen his hold for the phone, Mammon can’t believe that God had answered his prayer in a whip of a second.

“Yo bro be right back” Mammon speaks softly but enough for Leviathan to hear it through the phone as the hot-blooded demon hanged up. He kept his legs in the same position, manspreading to look uninterested. Mammon’s fibrous inner thigh exposed as his shorts wrinkled up when he adjusted his position.

“S—sup”

Right on the screen shows a woman’s figure, sitting tightly to a normal chair. Mammon's assumption about her was that she is accessing the website on a normal laptop. No fancy camera or a computer setup, her face dismayed, her lips matched the colour of blood. Her hair brushed, and her upper body…tantalising him. She was wearing a black negligee, the lace upon the breast side aroused Mammon’s fantasy. It’s as if the dirty thoughts played like a river. ‘What is it like if the lace is off?’ ‘I can see her nipples, but not entirely. Is it her nipple there? Or was it just my eyes? No. That’s definitely her nipple. God, if that’s really her nipple…’

He swallowed a lump, trying his best not to let himself overtaken by just a teasing sight. The woman did not reply verbally as she was muted, but her arms quick to the keyboard as a message appear in the chat box

Stranger : hi

Mammon’s head did not move, only his eyeball reacted to the pop up chat. He nods slowly as if telling the woman he is engaging in this conversation.

By any means will he not let her skip him.

“S—so, what’s uh, your name?”

The girl eye’s unwavering to her own laptop screen, then a small smirk curt on her lips as she brings her fingers to her mouth, gently nudging it as she typed with one hand.

Stranger : y/n

Discovering her name somewhat triggered Mammon’s pheromones. He barely even understands himself now. It was just a name, and why is his dick raging to get out of his pants? His eyes constantly searched for a focus point that could turn his attention away from her body.

“Yeah, s—so, whatcha doin’ here?” Even though Mammon hated the battlefield he was now with his own arousal, most part of him never wanted to leave the conversation. He wanted to see how far things could go. Y/n apropos dress must have come with amiss intent.

Though muted, the woman’s grin bared her teeth, and Mammon could feel a laughter come through. He gulped again, his Adam's apple betrayed his pokered face. The way it moves when Mammon swallows his dirty thoughts away caught y/n’s nippy eyes. Her hand moved to the mousepad instead of keyboard, clicking to the microphone button as she unmuted herself.

“I can feel like we are going to go for the voice more” she eyes Mammon’s body response that was twitching discreetly on the camera. A mischievous smirk plastered on her face, amused by the result of her own seduction. For an innocent lad, her statement seemed like nothing. But y/n could see the salacious behind Mammon’s expression. Besides, Mammon was the first stranger she got paired with tonight, and he was perfectly suited to be her midnight entertainment .

Meanwhile for the try-hard demon, his stomach felt as if there was a knot that was just being formed, and her loose shorts started to expose his bulge.

‘Shit! The heck!’

Mammon straightens his back, trying to angle himself where his bulge can’t be recorded on the camera. His feet to the ground, scooting himself to the desk where his lap was covered underneath it. He cleared his throat for a hope to avert her attention away to his body language. But all y/n had in her mind right now was to toy the flustered stranger on her screen.

“You good?” Her voice came through, and Mammon flinched subtly that y/n couldn’t catch. Her negligee strips fell down teasingly from her shoulder, which provoked Mammon’s reaction.

Both arms to the armrest while his palm clutched, Mammon let out an awkward laugh. His eyes turned away to the screen, but occasionally back to look at y/n left shoulder that had its strip fall off.

“Look, ya shouldn’t dress like that” he advised, words by words were lies. The more he stayed in the room, the more his chest felt impaled by his struggles to breath normally. In this state, Mammon felt like time had stopped, and everything outside had not enticed the rebellious demon. All he wanted was to stay in this very room, with this woman named y/n, and let his imagination run wild.

“Says the one who got excited by it” y/n snarky response caught him off guard. He had try his best to show the untruth of his desire, and yet she figured it out as if he was a transparent being.

“Huh?” He fluffed his way out but the way y/n blasphemously curled her lips hindered himself to stay under control. Sweat had trickled from his neck. His stomach feels like a thousand tied ropes. The rim of his shorts burn his waist, plague to not tossing it away.

For y/n, she didn’t care. With more tingling sensations down her wetness, she made sure to whimper between every word “Oh come on, tough guy. I know why you hide your lap.”

Y/n eyes lowered, though through the screen, Mammon realised she was eyeing his crotch that was blocked by the desk.

“Shit. Ya fucker”

He damned her. There was no point to bandage the situation now. The woman definitely aimed to be a vixen on this site. Mammon wasn’t hallucinating things, he finally grasped that she reciprocated to his desire as well. Growling while his lips shut together, Mammon bites his lower lips, pushing himself as the chair moves away from his setup, revealing the full picture of his body once again.

Y/n’s eyes eagerly aimed to the centre of Mammon’s leg. Watching the way his cock tensed hard underneath his loose short. She gulped her excitement, grabbing a pillow near her as she sat on it. Under the provoking lingerie she wore, it had nothing beside the thin layer of negligee wrapped loosely to her body. Y/n straddle her pillow, making sure she could feel her sensitive clit jolted as she slowly rocks her hips, moaning softly while maintaining to watch Mammon’s hard bulge quivered underneath the fabric.

“Oh fuckin’ naughty. I was tryin so hard to hide. Thought ya too pretty to not creep ya out” he confessed, muttering softly but enough for y/n to hear. Leaning more to his gaming chair, Mammon spread his legs, his nipples perked through his white singlet as his right hand softly stroked his clothed dick. Veins rose on his hand proving the sexual frustration he gets, watching the show y/n presented to him.

“Lower ya laptop a bit, lemme see those fuckin’ thigh in action” Mammon command with no shame. His hand abandoned his frisson tent and made its way to the end of his singlet. His actions were rough, yet somehow addictive to witness. He undressed his top, showing off the muscle on his abdomen. Mammon’s broad chest is clean and clear, but even with the naked eyes that y/n can spot the glisten of his sweat. His dark nipples erected, and so does his clothed shaft.

Her curse was indistinct when Mammon threw his top to the floor. Sinful womanly eyes caught the v-shaped line at the lower part that Mammon had teasingly showed. He proudly exhibits the happy trail, but covers the end of it as to let her imagination undress his crotch. Y/n lowered her laptop screen a bit, where the sight of her hips humping rhythmically with the man’s stroking game visible entirely on her camera, but Mammon still can see her face. God damn it, this girl knew well how to angle the camera.

Y/n’s clit stroked as she moved back and forth, feeling the dry fabric gradually wet from her own coat. “Hnn…” she mewled to Mammon through the screen, still looking arousingly to the demon’s bulge.

“Fuck yes. So hot…” Mammon turns to sough as he caught the action smoother when she adjusted the camera for a premium view.

“Shit my fucking cock can’t hold it anymore”

His large hand grabbed the rim of his shorts, pulling it down with such intensity as the faint sound of teared fabric entered y/n’s laptop speaker. Unlike the top, Mammon threw his shorts away from the camera sight, his cock sprung out, tensed proudly like a tower with throbbed veins spiralling around his dick. He smirks while y/n’s humping gets aggressive as soon as she sees Mammon’s cock, ready to be pumped until his sack is empty.

He caressed the skin of his shaft in brutal motion, and the new moan that escaped his mouth was totally different from when he just rubbed it through the clothes. “Oh sh—, yes girl….” He groaned. “Shit…take off your clothes, let me see your body”

Y/n stopped, nodding and obeying him not because she felt like it was a command, but to thank the stranger for his beautiful nude, and she figured to reciprocate it as a gift. Her hand both reached for the end of her nightwear and disrobe it with a faint tingle of embarrassment. Y/n had never done this to a complete stranger, but her stressed out day changed her mind. After all, everything had its first time.

Y/n breast jumped out as she bared, tossing her negligee away. Hand cupped around her breast, kneading it softly in front of the Mammon through the cybersex they had. Her nipples erected as well, and she still didn’t stop to hump. “Mmm, I want you to touch me so bad…” she provoked, but it was not a lie. “Your hand seems strong, I want it to squeeze my boobs until it's red” she moaned, adding more intensity as she rammed her breast sensually.

“I fuck ya tits until its all swollen, cum on it and suck until I fuckin’ suffocate” he expressed his desire, pupils dilated as he saw her pussy lips glide back and forth to the pillow. “Fuck…fuck…” he muttered, hand still stroking his cock like a frustrated virgin. His legs twitched, and his breathing danced in ragged rhythms.

Y/n paused her action, her pussy cutting the contact with the pillow. The sticky liquid caught clear on the camera as y/n grabbed the pillow to her mouth, licking the wet spot she had just fiercely humped. Her tongue nudged her own liquid, then she entirely licked her own taste. “Mm— you want to taste me don’t you…?”.Y/n threw the pillow to the side, spreading her legs in front of the camera.

Mammon swore that he could feel his dick get bricked up more, precum spill out from his cock hole as he pumped his dick harder. His mouth parted while his eyes half closed but still could see the bared pussy on his computer screen crystal clear. Y/n ran her finger to the slit of her pussy, her hole quiveringly contracts, driving Mammon’s to the edge of his climax.

“Fuck wait”

Still jerking himself off, his other hand grabbed the wireless mouse, aimed for the fullscreen button as he clicked it. When y/n’s folds dominate his entire screen, Mammon leaned against his gaming chair further, hand still pleasing his cock, tightening his grip to match the sensation of her hole. “That’s more like it…” he sighed as his other hand released the mouse, making its way to his own chest.

“I kinda want your mouth sucking my nipple…” Mammon spoke with a quivering tone, his hands rolled between his tensed nipple as he pinched it. “Aack…! Yes…!” He whimpered, eyes closed for a moment while his cock was near to the end. “Shove three fingers inside your pussy dear…” he pleaded, eyes showing nothing but a pure slutty soul. “Please ... .I wanna cum by seeing your pussy hole fingered…”

Y/n had her hesitation thrown in the garbage, and she quickly reacted to Mammon’s pleas. “I wanna see you cum so hard too…” the woman responded. Three digits seemed like a lot, she had only fingered herself with two, she isn’t entirely sure if she can perform well in three. But her determination to see the male’s semen shoot out from his needy cock because of her action excites y/n further.

With two fingers, y/n nudges her hole, tracing the small circle of the wet tunnel of her pussy before shoving it slowly as she squeals. “Hhng…” cried her.

“Come on dear, I know you can do it…” he encouraged as the pace of her stroke became slower, keeping his orgasm when the woman’s finger was all in. Y/n took another whiff of boldness breath, now with three fingers, she circled her pussy, teasing her hole, making it ready to be stretched with new digits.

“A—ah…I’m…doing it…” mewling as she jerks, the three of her brazen finger shoved slowly inside her pussy, stretching it tightly around her as she unhurriedly fingers herself. “L—look….hhn…it’s….it’s in….f—fuck…” talking in a messy breathing, y/n tried to keep up with Mammon’s instructions.

“Oh fuck yeah, good girl…” Mammon watched her rhythm, realising she’s matching his steady stroke on his own cock. Mammon fastened the pace, gripping it so hard that he could feel as if his cock could just latch off his groin.

As Mammon expected, y/n reciprocated the tempo, his finger curled to her g-spot, rubbing it with aggression as she moaned loudly, unexpectedly squirting herself to the camera.

Mammon’s eyes darken, witnessing the way her fluid slipped off her fingers, shooting it to the camera as well as wetting it too. “A squirter?….I’m so lucky tonight…” he whispered with a shaking vibrato, face scrunched as he felt his stomach ready to untie the knot, all because of y/n sudden squirt that he thought he couldn't last any longer.

“I’m….cumming…! Goddamn… fuck..! I’m so near baby..!” His whimpering words were like a desperate man. His inner thigh bricken, spasm as he threw his head to the back, and then returned to watch the homemade porn on his computer screen.

“Me…too….one more…squirt…” she replied in an instant, her tone matched Mammon’s needy voice.

“Moan my name baby. Moan my name…it's Mammon…”

“M—mammon….cum…let’s cum together…let me see your cock shoot that fucking load on your stomach…”

Mammon nodded eagerly, eyes teared from an extreme palpitation his heart had beat. “Ah…oh yes…! Shit…!”

She shoved her fingers harder, the mattress of her bed pooled with her love liquid. Y/n threw her head to the back before crying out her orgasm away as she squirted once more to the camera. “Mammon….! Nnngh Mammon…!”

Mammon heard his name being called in the sweet tone of sultry as his cum shot to his abdomen, painting his mocha skin to white as he pumped it until it’s all gone and done. He breathed like an inexperienced being, the broad chest puffed and flattened. As the load slowly jizzed out from his cock, he let go of his tired cock, letting it rest onto his stomach as he looked at y/n who was already falling to the bed, legs wide open with her mattress soaked from her orgasm.

“Hh…hh…” trying to catch his breath back to normal, Mammon let out another desire he had held back since.

“Y/n gimme your number”

Author note : hellloo!! How was it hehe! As I said, today is my birthday and I made a google form for you to fill it out with wishes! You can even ask me questions and I will answer it on my next post! Aren’t I seemed like an obnoxious brat that wants attention?! Hehehe!

Please fill it out! I love you guys!

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