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vivid-ink · 6 months

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Kinktober #31 - A/B/O Omegaverse "I See You"

fem!Sub!OmatikayaReader x dom!Alpha!Neteyam

Story Summary: Neteyam is your best friend & he seems intent on keeping you that way only... But he's the only alpha male that you truly desire... Will you succeed in convincing him to let you in, to let you show him what a perfect omega you could be to him, while he battles with his inner demons to resist you?

Note: No use of 'Y/N' in this - I've given the reader a name. So, your name in this is 'Leiko'.

Based off THIS REQUEST and incorporated with the Kinktober Omegaverse prompt.

Warnings: 🔞Sexual content 18+, MDNI 🔞 Word count: 10.4k Content: Smut, rough sex, squirting, slick, knotting

Author's Note: I know this prompt is early, it's not quite the 31st yet. However, I'm heading overseas and I won't have my laptop or the internet to post this after today. So, here is the full piece! Thank you to all those who showed their interest from the teaser snippet I posted! I believe I've tagged all of you who asked to be below (and a few others who might be interested 😋). Enjoy the ride! 🥰 Thank you to @cinetrix-deactivated20231007 for the render of Neteyam I've used in the cover shot.

Tag list: @marriedtolike18fictionalmen @taintedlovesworld @vintaqestar @ntymavtr @plooto @rav3nh3aven @crazy4books1 @investedreader @qcswrites @neteyamssyulang @neteyamsyawntu @glimmering-darling-dolly @erenjaegerwifee @oasiswithmyg @delacruzyari @daeneeryss @nilsavatar @pandoraslxna @blue-slxt @wheneclipsefalls @adrianarose7 @tallulah477 @itchaboi-itchyboy @neteluvr @live-laugh-neteyam @itssomeonereading @bluecooki3 @pandorxxx @notnat02 @spicymayyo @iman-lu @creepytoes88 @flyingspacewhale @justonesadlonelymoth @oasiswithmyg @luvteyams @teymars @akoyaxs @c-h-i-l @ele-sme

***~~~***

It was getting more and more difficult for Neteyam to smile politely in acknowledgement at the women who lingered around him. Their loitering presence was becoming a nuisance and his patience was wearing thin. He attracted them all currently, alpha, beta and omega alike. Their delicately twitching noses sniffed the air around him and his scent told them everything they needed to know.

An unmated alpha male in his prime, approaching the time of his rut, was a very juicy temptation for females indeed.

The women batted their eyelashes at him, lips dancing in demure smiles. Their tails skimmed his calves interestedly as they passed him and several bolder females even made direct offers of assistance, hoping he would accept. However, Neteyam turned them all down.

The females were only doing what was natural to them, what was instinctual. After all, his body was emitting pheromones that called to them like bees to nectar and his own instincts were urging him to respond in kind, his body also acutely aware of how good they smelled and how appealing their slender bodies were.

Smaller, softer bodies that would so willingly bend under his… arched backs and flushed faces… rumps pressed against the front of his thighs as he rutted into the sweet heat of them…

Neteyam vanished the thought.

No. He rebelled against his instincts, protested the impulse to give in to his animalistic desires like a creature with no sense or thought. He hated feeling out of control and that was exactly what he was during his ruts, wild and unrestrained. His ruts were an agonising dichotomy that made his body war with his mind. How could something that felt so unbelievably good also make him feel like a complete stranger to himself?

Neteyam quickened his pace, hastening on the path back to his family’s kelku (home). The sooner he got back, the sooner he could get his dose of suppressant tincture from Kiri.

A long-suffering sigh sounded from behind him and a firm hand clapped him on the shoulder, “Honestly bro, it’d be so much easier if you just agreed to see out your rut with a woman. There are plenty of females who’d be more than happy to assist.”

Shrugging his brother’s hand off, Neteyam continued his speedy trudge, “No. I won’t be a slave to my hormones and treat a woman like a piece of meat for three days.”

Lo’ak snorted and scoffed, “They enjoy it. What about that don’t you get? They get pleasure out of it too. I mean, I didn’t see Mali complaining after that one rut she saw you through a couple of years ago. She’s offered again since, hasn’t she?”

Neteyam chewed on his bottom lip and his forehead wrinkled in a deep frown. He remembered that rut. It’d been his second one. Ruts started in males around the age of eighteen and occurred approximately once every year. The first one usually came on suddenly and unexpectedly with little lead up. As a result, most males spent their first rut alone in one of the clan’s designated havens. Thankfully though, first ruts were also milder in general as the body slowly accustomed itself to the potent rush of rut hormones.

Despite the milder intensity of his first rut, Neteyam still remembered it being an unpleasant experience. Hot, bothered and painfully aroused with no partner to slake the burning of his flesh, he’d struggled through it to ease his elevated desires on his own. So when the symptoms signalling the impending arrival of his second rut had surfaced the following year, he’d gratefully accepted Mali’s offer of assistance.

Mali was a fellow hunter-warrior and they were familiar with each other, having worked alongside each other for years. She was an attractive beta female and he got along well with her. Overall, the one rut he’d spent with her could be called a success. She was warm and willing and despite him not being able to knot her due to her beta designation, the sex had still been incredibly satisfying and it had done a lot to soothe the raging lust in in his veins. However, there’d been an unexpected side effect to his experience.

All through the lust-filled haze of his rut, his body riddled with aching desire, Neteyam had felt feral and unbridled. He’d felt so detached from and unlike his usual calm and measured self, that it had alarmed him. It’d felt like being trapped in a stranger’s body, looking out through his own eyes and yet unable to stop himself from behaving like an untamed beast. He’d demanded and performed so many lecherous acts on Mali and while the pleasure had been intense in the moment, he’d been revolted by his own behaviour after his rut had passed.

“Bro,” Lo’ak said when Neteyam didn’t answer, having clearly gotten lost in his thoughts.

“Sorry, what?”

Lo’ak pursed impatient lips and gave several disapproving clicks of his tongue, “See? The rut fog is starting.”

“I haven’t got rut fog.” Neteyam grouched, “I’m just thinking.”

“Mm hmm,” Lo’ak didn’t sound the least bit convinced, “Yeah right. You’ve been spaced out for days, bro. You can’t keep staving your ruts off with the suppressant. Something’s going to have to give, sooner or later.”

“I know.” Neteyam snarled tetchily, “I’ll just get through this week’s work and then I’ll just get it over and done with after.”

“And you need to let a woman help you this time.”

Neteyam emitted a soft growl, “No, bro. I’m going to see it out on my own.”

“For the love of Eywa! Why are you such a stubborn ass about this? No other alpha male sees his ruts out alone. It’s unheard of!” Lo’ak cried in exasperation, “Why would you suffer through it on your own? It’s fucking horrible, especially when there are so many willing women, willing omega women who are eager to help!”

“I feel so out of control during my ruts that I don’t recognise myself! And the things that I did to Mali…” Neteyam exclaimed before he paused, his face twisting into a grimace, “She’s a person, and I didn’t treat her as such.”

Lo’ak would have rolled his eyes and proclaimed his brother a righteous asshole, but he knew Neteyam wasn’t behaving like this to be better than everyone else or to prove he had more control than other alphas. His brother had spent his last two ruts on his own and Lo’ak knew they’d both been difficult and harrowing experiences. No alpha male would suffer like this for the mere sake of sanctimony. As an alpha male himself, Lo’ak knew this for a fact. Neteyam was genuinely distressed by his own behaviour.

“This is going to sound so bad, but the women want to be used and abused. The omegas want to be pinned down and knotted.” Lo’ak offered mildly, maintaining quick strides to keep up with his brother, “They wouldn’t offer otherwise. You’re the most sought-after male in this clan. Future olo’eyktan. The opportunity to be noticed by you and potentially chosen by you as a mate is very enticing.”

“I don’t want to do to another woman what I did to Mali.”

“You didn’t do anything to Mali, you did things with her. She was perfectly happy and she’d do it again.”

“Nope.” The ‘p’ in the word was uttered with an audible pop of Neteyam’s lips, “You’re not changing my mind, Lo’ak. Drop the subject.”

Lo’ak had never been a quitter though and being annoying was his forte, “You know, what you need is an omega to knot. Mali’s a beta, maybe you wouldn’t feel like that now if you’d been with an omega female during your first rut. Great Mother, knotting feels so fucking good-”

“Lo’ak.” Neteyam’s hiss was a warning.

“Seriously, bro. Maybe try an omega you’re familiar with. Leiko is an omega-”

Lo’ak’s didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. His words died on his tongue when his brother whirled around to face him with an aggressive and rumbling growl, “Don’t even say it! She’s my best friend!”

Hands held up in surrender, Lo’ak dropped the subject, “Alright, alright!”

Reaching the threshold of their family’s kelku, Neteyam pushed the entry flaps aside testily and strode into the space. His mother was stirring a pot of what smelled like sturmbeest stew over the central hearth and his sisters were seated not far from her, chopping vegetables and grinding herbs. Muttering a greeting of return to them under his breath, his eyes sought Kiri’s and he tipped his chin up at her twice in an unspoken query.

Kiri knew exactly what her brother was asking for and she shared a disapproving look with their mother. Neytiri merely shook her head and breathed out a deep sigh, noting how her eldest-born son was studiously avoiding her gaze.

Kiri rose gracefully from where she was crouched to rummage through her chest of medicinal supplies. Finding the bottle she was after she uncorked it and decanted a dose of its contents into a small drinking vessel. Approaching Neteyam she held it out to him, her nose wrinkling uneasily, “It’s losing efficacy. I can smell you from a mile away.”

Tipping the vessel’s contents into his mouth, he ingested the full dose in one astringent gulp. He grimaced at the foul tang of it, “Thanks. I know. I just need more time.”

The sudden sound of wood clattering harshly echoed in the kelku, shattering the previously peaceable atmosphere. All eyes turned to their mother, who’d intentionally slammed the wooden ladle she’d been using onto a platter at her side.

Neytiri was irked, her ears pinned and her breaths were deep, “How much longer will you deny your nature, son? This is the path the Great Mother has chosen for you to walk. You are an alpha male! Your ruts are a natural part of you. Your strength and dominance, your virility, they are all gifts to be embraced, not repressed!”

The Sully children collectively winced at their mother’s bark. It was at times like this that Neteyam was reminded of his mother’s own alpha designation. Female alphas were not extremely rare, but they were uncommon, as were male omegas.

Females typically presented as betas or omegas when they came of age, and males tended to present as betas or alphas. Though out of the three classes, betas were the most common. Alphas were inclined towards more dominants traits and behaviours, while omegas displayed more passive traits. Betas were a mixture of the two.

Individuals were free to mate whoever they wished, and while you did see alpha-alpha matings and alpha-beta matings around (like their parents, their father being a beta male), betas typically mated other betas and alphas tended to mate omegas. The physiological presence of an alpha male’s genital knot appeared to influence this, with only omega females possessing the bodily capability to be knotted and tied.

Neteyam clenched his jaw and shuffled apprehensively on his feet, “I understand that, sa’nu (mother). But the hunter-warriors have a busy week this week and I have duties to tend to at work. It’s only for the next couple of days until the new week begins. I’ll stop the suppressant then.”

Neytiri gave a reproachful hiss of frustration, “You are grown now. I pray to Eywa that she will bring you a good match soon, a good omega female to take care of you. She will bring you comfort and such a match would breed strong children to ensure the clan’s line of succession.”

Taking the empty drinking vessel from Neteyam, Kiri huffed and grumbled something under her breath as she moved to re-pack the medicinal chest, something about him being stupid, blind and stubborn. Annoyed, Neteyam was about to demand that his sister repeat what she’d muttered aloud, but another severe glare from his mother stopped him. Neytiri wouldn’t take kindly to any bickering from her children under her roof when she was already in a fractious mood.

The Sully children knew that if they wanted dinner, they’d better be on their best behaviour or there would be nothing but twisted ears and empty bowls awaiting them.

***~~~***

You sat on the woven mat in the tsahìk’s hut, grateful for the quiet day. Mo’at was out visiting her usual schedule of older patients in their homes and apart from a little one who was recovering from a particularly nasty bout of fever, there were no other patients about and no one else had come through to be tended to. The little boy was napping in the far corner behind a wooden partition while you and Kiri milled about peeling fruit, steeping roots and making herbal pastes.

It would’ve been a wonderful opportunity to catch up with Kiri, perhaps indulge in some girlish gossip, but Kiri was not in a chatty frame of mind. She hadn’t whined, she hadn’t grouched, but you knew her like the back of your hand and you knew she was grumpy. You were close with the Sullys. Your parents had been fast friends with Jake and Neytiri since their younger years. You’d grown up alongside the Sully children as a result and you were closest in age to Neteyam and Kiri.

Being the oldest of four yourself, you and Neteyam had gotten along well, bonding over the mutual responsibilities of being the eldest and having to simultaneously watch your siblings. You’d both pursued different paths from an early age; Neteyam knew he wanted to be a hunter-warrior, whereas you’d always found solace in nursing and healing the sick and injured. Despite these differences in schooling and interests, you remained close friends as you both grew up. You were close to Kiri too, but Neteyam was your best friend. Not a single day had gone by where you hadn’t hung out and spent time with each other.

Until the day you’d officially presented as an omega a few moons after your eighteenth birthday…

Neteyam had started putting more distance between you then. It had been three years since and while you were still close to him, it wasn’t every day that you hung out anymore. It was more like once a week, but you both made the time still and blamed everything else on the busyness of adulthood. While that wasn’t untrue, you knew that it was also his alpha designation and your omega designation that caused him to distance himself.

“You’re cranky.” You pronounced playfully, a small smile dancing on your lips as you watched Kiri sigh over her bowl of mashed roots.

“I’m cranky because everyone at home is cranky, and everyone is cranky because Neteyam is cranky.” Kiri complained, her beautiful face wrinkled and pouty in annoyance. “Honestly Leiko, you need to talk to him. He won’t listen to any of us. Not even Grandmother.”

You chewed on your bottom lip pensively, knowing full well the reason for Neteyam’s touchy demeanour, “You know that I’m the last person he wants to see right now given his circumstances.”

Kiri decanted her masticated blob of roots into a bigger vessel and testily plopped more boiled tubers into her bowl to begin the mashing process all over again, “Yes well, unfortunately you might also be the only person who can convince him to stop his madness and accept the nature of his designation. I’m not saying that you need to be the one to see him through his rut. It can be anyone else! He just needs to let it happen!”

Kiri’s exasperation was clear and you frowned in sympathy, “I don’t know, Kiri.”

“The both of you are close. Best friends right? That’s what you always say?” Kiri pleaded, “He trusts you. He listens to you. See if you can talk some sense into that skxawng.”

You pondered Kiri’s request, hesitant because it was a very touchy topic between you and Neteyam. You’d confronted him once, years ago when the distance between you had first begun to grow. You’d been hurt and confused by his avoidant behaviour, and you’d eventually cornered him one night after communal last meal. You’d sought him out for two reasons. One was to confront him around his strange behaviour and the second was to ask him to see you through your next heat.

You’d had your first heat the year before that and as it had come on very suddenly, another alpha male in the clan had seen you through it. Even prior to your official presentation as an omega, you’d known that it would be your likely designation. There had been signs in your behaviour and your manner. Neteyam’s own alpha designation had been similarly predictable and he’d never shown any sign of discomfort at the idea. In the back of your young mind, you’d always known that you wanted Neteyam to be your heat partner.

Gentle, responsible and charming Neteyam... You knew he’d take care of you… You recognised back then that your feelings for your best friend had grown into more than friendly. However, when you’d cornered him that fateful evening and confronted him, what had followed was the most heated row you’d ever had with your best friend.

Neteyam had confessed to you what had happened during his second rut with Mali. He’d condemned his behaviour, rejected his designation, and told you he wanted you both to spend less time around each other, especially when either of you was approaching a heat or a rut. Shocked and confused, you’d called him silly followed by all sorts of stronger words when your argument had continued to escalate.

When you’d offered to see him through his next rut, thinking the close bond you shared might quell his uneasiness, Neteyam had recoiled with such aversion to the idea that it had stunned you speechless. And you’d been quietly hurt by it. He’d been so adamant. Perhaps it was your natural submissiveness, or the fact that you’d been so afraid to lose his friendship, but you’d acquiesced and pushed him no further. Needless to say, you never asked him to see you through any of your heats after that.

Even now the thought was sore, but you buried your feelings and carried on.

“Please?” Kiri’s voice beseeched, interrupting your train of thought, and you realised that you hadn’t answered her yet.

“He won’t want to see me. We have an agreement that we keep our distance at times like these.” You countered, tucking one of your stray braids behind your pointed year. You resumed your task of peeling, avoiding Kiri’s eyes in the hope that she would give up on her attempt to convince you.

Kiri sagged in defeat and her expression turned troubled, “It’s unhealthy, what he’s doing. He can’t change what Eywa has given him.” She was growing in upset, her large doe-eyes shining with tears, “I just want him to be happy, and he’ll never be if he can’t accept this part of him.”

Hating the sight of Kiri’s distress, you reached out to pull her into a tight hug, “I’ll try, OK? I can’t promise anything, but I’ll talk to Neteyam.”

***~~~***

You weren’t a hunter or warrior by any means, but here you were, rather successfully stalking one of the clan’s apex warriors.

To be fair, the rising intensity of Neteyam’s rut hormones were likely clouding his senses, dulling them, but you gave yourself a mental pat on the back nonetheless. You may have ultimately chosen to pursue the art of healing under the tsahìk, but all young clan members were required to learn survival basics as part of passing their rites, and those skills were not entirely lost on you even after all these years.

The mossy bark was both soft and rough in parts against the skin of your front. You kept your torso low against the large tree bough you were perched on and the tuft of your tail weaved in a mischievous dance behind you. You raised yourself a little on your forearms, watching your prey as he moved in the woodland glade below you.

Neteyam’s hair was pulled back and secured by a loose tie, which was very unlike his usual preference for having his braids free. However, the tie kept his hair away from his neck and you could see the swollenness of his scent glands on either side of his neck, raised and sensitive. You watched soundlessly as he knelt on the bank of a small clearwater spring, cupping handfuls of water and splashing his face, chest and forearms, likely trying to alleviate the prickling burn of his skin, another symptom of his impending rut.

Neteyam had retreated from the rest of the clan after last meal and you’d trailed him here. You’d called on every single lesson you could remember around the basics of hunting: soft and sure feet, quietly measured breaths, keeping enough of a distance etc. You’d ensured to stay downwind from him the entire time so that your scent would not carry towards him and alert him of your presence.

However, staying downwind from him meant that his scent was washing over you in a constant stream in the light breeze and Great Mother did he smell amazing. He was on the brink of his rut and his elevated alpha pheromones beckoned to your omega senses like the most delectable fruit; sweet, spicy and juicy. But Neteyam was forbidden fruit to you... He’d set that boundary, clear as day, all those years ago. You were his best friend… And he appeared to want to keep you that way only.

Your lips turned into a small pout and your face twisted into an unhappy moue at the thought. Deep in the darkest, most hidden part of your soul, you knew he was the only alpha male you truly wanted. He was your best friend and you loved him as such, but you wanted to love him too as more than that…

Your last two heats had been spent with another alpha male, Nalu. While Nalu was lovely and being knotted by him served to assuage your raging heat hormones well enough, it was always Neteyam’s face and form that you fantasised of in place of his. Another alluring waft of Neteyam’s scent drifted up to your nose and you reminded yourself sternly of Kiri’s assignment: Convince him to accept a partner for his rut and nothing more.

Deciding that now was as good a time as any other, you shifted to balance yourself on all fours, creeping back along the large bough towards the tree’s main trunk to climb down to the forest floor. You intentionally shuffled noisily as you descended, not wanting to startle Neteyam.

“Who’s there?” His deep voice called.

“It’s just me.” You replied calmly, letting go to hop to the ground once you were low enough. Approaching him gradually, you could see he wasn’t pleased to see you. You attempted to broach conversation with a light-hearted jibe, “Gotcha! I’ve never been successful tracking you unnoticed before.”

Neteyam’s tail was stationary, hanging stiff and straight behind him. His ears were pinned so flat you almost couldn’t see them and his nostrils were flaring intermittently. You maintained your cautious approach. Little rivulets of water were cascading down his muscular chest from where he’d splashed himself earlier and you quietly rebuked yourself for ogling. But he looked so good, so perfectly alpha male… And he needed you… His pheromones were screaming for you, for an omega…

“What are you doing here, Lei?” The words were ground out tightly from Neteyam, but a soft part of you thrilled at the use of his shortened nickname for you. Only he called you that.

Stopping just over an arm’s length away from him, you felt saliva pool hungrily in your cheeks as his alpha male scent swirled around to envelope you in an invisible embrace. His scent was so concentrated at this distance and it was making gooey warmth pool in your tummy and farther below. Your eyes met his and you saw his jaw was clenched tightly, his nose wrinkling and twitching involuntarily. He could definitely smell you too…

“Kiri asked me to try and talk some sense into you.” You stated in as even a tone as possible. You wanted to reach out and touch him, trace the pads of your fingers over the hot skin of his brawny chest and impressive biceps.

Neteyam’s sigh was mixed with a growl of frustration, “We’re not going to talk. We agreed that we wouldn’t go near each other at times like this.”

Steeling yourself you fixed him with an obstinate glare, “I wouldn’t be here if you listened to Kiri and your family. Take a partner this time for your rut. You’re being ridiculous riding it out on your own like this every year. It’s not healthy for you to do this.”

You watched while Neteyam pawed vexedly at his eyes, irritation scrawled across his usually handsome and charming face. His fingers moved to press at the scent glands on his neck and you knew, no doubt, that they were aching.

“Just leave me alone. I don’t want to be lectured. I’ve ridden things out on my own the last two years. This one will be no different.” Neteyam grumbled tightly. He turned then and began to walk away from you.

Nope, you weren’t having that.

Striding after him, you snagged at one of his wrists to stop him and Neteyam recoiled, wrenching his wrist from your grip with a snarl. An apology was quick to leave you when you realised you’d grazed the other set of sensitive scent glands on his inner wrist in the process, “Sorry! Just stop walking away!”

“I can’t be near you right now! You should know better than to come and find me!”

“I’m worried about you! As are the rest of your family!”

“I’ll be fine. Leave me be!”

The tension was rapidly escalating between you. Neteyam was growing more and more agitated with each passing second, but so were you.

“This is part of you, Neteyam!” You scolded, purposely stepping into his path so he came face to face with you, “I know the rut you spent with Mali was disturbing for you somehow, but what you experienced was completely natural!”

“It’s natural for me to be a mindless brute?! Out of control and like an animal?”

You had to suppress the urge to roll your eyes and tug at your hair in exasperation. The healer in you bullied its way to the forefront of your mind and you exclaimed, “Yes, that’s why it’s called a rut! Your hormones need to peak in their cycle and they will influence your actions and urges. This is the Great Mother’s way of ensuring future generations!”

Neteyam’s laugh was caustic and he spat in response, “Ugh, you sound like my mother.”

“Well, your mother is right!” You pressed, and your clenched fists mirrored Neteyam’s own as you both stared each other down.

“No. It’s not who I am! I don’t want to use a woman’s body like that!”

This was the same battle his family had fought with him for the last two years. You didn’t understand where Neteyam’s distress came from. It was unusual; no other alpha male behaved like this or had any qualms about undergoing their ruts. Kiri had a theory that perhaps Mali’s beta hormones hadn’t gelled with Neteyam’s the way an omega’s might have, resulting in an out of kilter experience that had harmed more than helped him.

“Kiri thinks things might be different if you let an omega help you this time! Please don’t be stubborn!”

“Oh, and I suppose that’s why my sister sent you along to convince me?” Neteyam hissed, his face marred by a disgruntled scowl. To your surprise he stepped towards you, his much larger frame looming over yours.

“No, that’s not why she sent me. It’s because I’m your best friend and she’s hoping you’ll listen to me.” You muttered quietly, swallowing the lump in your throat. He was so close to you, his chest heaving while his deep breaths fanned over you.

You could feel your own omega instincts taking hold of you. An alpha was in need of an omega; your chosen alpha… The alpha that your inner omega had craved for the last few years… You wanted to yield to him. You wanted him to dominate you, bend you into a mating press and slake his rampant lust with the use of your body, and to hell with the rest of it.

Neteyam gritted his teeth and he backed away from you then, shaking his head, “No. I’m done talking. Leave.”

“I can help. Let me help you.” You entreated. This wasn’t part of your plan, but your instincts were working in full force now, urging you to serve your alpha, “I don’t want you to suffer. It’ll be different this time.”

A tormented groan left Neteyam and he pressed his hands to his face in aggravation. His tone was brusque and he was clearly losing his cool, “No, go awayLeiko!”

“Neteyam please-”

“NO! What part of ‘go away’ do you not understand?!” Neteyam bellowed harshly, “I DON’T WANT IT TO BE YOU!”

The alpha-tone was clear in his command and you flinched hard at his shout. You shrank from him, hurt by his words. You would have sunk to your knees in complete submission if not for the last shred of your dignity that you were desperately clutching on to. He’d refused your offer to see him through his ruts once before. Despite already knowing his outlook, hearing the words again didn’t dull the sharp sting of them.

He didn’t want to be your alpha and he didn’t want you to be his omega… Your arms intuitively wrapped around yourself and you kept your head bowed in submission while your vision blurred, your eyes pooling with unbidden tears.

You fought the sob that was making its way up your tightening throat and you stammered out, “It doesn’t h-have to be me. There are other omegas who are willing. I spoke to Nani earlier. She’s on standby if you want h-her instead.”

You swiped at your eyes with the back of your hands, desperately trying and failing to hold back the streams of wetness that were determined to trace a path down the planes of your face. Your mortification at being so plainly rejected burned hot on your neck and cheeks, but even so, every fibre in your being was compelling you to convince Neteyam that he needed you, that you would be a good omega for him, that you could be everything he needed to soothe and satisfy him during his rut.

The scent glands on your neck and wrists tingled emitting your own potent scent into the environment. Your closed stance and bent head screamed your submission, and you heard Neteyam grate out a harsh and muffled curse. Lifting your gaze a bit to peer at him, though your head remained dipped, you saw that he appeared to be fighting a battle of wills within himself. His face was a grimace, but the pupils of his eyes were dilated wide and you didn’t miss the way they scrutinised your body hungrily.

Neteyam’s gaze lingered on your chest and his throat bobbed as he swallowed. The conscious effort of restraint was evident in his voice when he spoke, “It’s not that you don’t appeal to me. That’s not what I mean when I say that I don’t want you to see me through my rut.”

A little frond of hope unfurled inside you and it gave you enough courage to lift your chin to look him in the eyes. Perspiration was beading along his hairline and his breathing was too controlled, almost as if he was resisting the urge to pant.

Meekly, you asked, “Then why won’t you let me help you? I want to.”

His expression turned aggrieved, “Because I don’t want you to see what I’m like. You’re important to me, Lei. You’re my best friend and I can’t bear to have you think less of me.”

You shook your head at him slowly, your feet shuffling closer to him, “This is only one part of you. I would never think less of you for doing what’s only natural.”

Neteyam didn’t move and he showed no objection to you inching closer to him. His eyes tracked yours as you drew nearer until you were so close that he was looking down his nose at you, your forehead a scant hand’s length from his chin. With the height difference between you, your head was tilted a fair way back to maintain the eye contact.

Eywa, he was so much bigger than you… Neteyam had always been taller, but his alpha hormones had really taken root in the last few years. He’d shot upward, his chest and shoulders had broadened, and his torso had filled out with bulky muscle. He was the very epitome of an alpha male: Strong and dominant, protector and provider.

The omega in you would do anything and everything to please him if it meant you’d have a chance at mating him one day, a chance at him fathering and raising young with you. Of course there were societal customs that had to be abided by too. Having children outside of a mated bond was frowned upon, so while instinctual heat and rut cycles had to run their course, there were various medicines that could be used to prevent conception.

In alpha-omega pairings, conception was also at its most potent when both male and female were simultaneously in heat and in rut. It was not uncommon in mated alpha-omega pairs for the female’s heat to trigger her mate’s rut and vice versa. And while conception was still possible outside of this mutual spike of fertility, it was less common. Your last heat had already been and gone a couple of moons ago, so the risk of pregnancy was low. Not that this in any way diminished your inner omega’s desire to see Neteyam through his rut and enjoy the mindless pleasure you knew would come with the experience.

Parting your lips, you let your breath sip in simultaneously through your mouth and nose, smelling him and tasting his captivating scent on your tastebuds. Neteyam’s lips were parted too, no doubt scenting you the same way.

“You reek.” Neteyam’s statement was frank, but despite his undesirable choice of words, his tone was unconvincing. His words came out like more of a rough moan than a growl.

Unable to resist your yearning to touch him any longer, your fingertips grazed the jut of his hip bones where you settled your palms against him. You whispered in response, “You smell really good too.”

You stepped right up to him, slotting your feet between his wider-placed ones to press yourself against his front. Your fingers tantalised his sides and you splayed your hands against his ribs, relishing in the feel of his scorching skin beneath your palms as you smoothed them up towards his shoulder blades. You hugged him, rubbing your cheek and jawline against his shoulder, marking him with your own scent glands. You could smell nothing except the heady and enthralling aroma of his pheromones now, and your thighs clenched with your rising desire for him.

A quiet and strangled sound escaped Neteyam, “Last chance. Get out of here.”

In spite of his words, his body was playing a very different tune and you almost laughed at the contradiction. One of his arms had shifted to snake around your back, trapping you against him, and his other hand had slid down to squeeze at one plush round of your derriere. He was nosing through your hair, sniffing you, and you could feel the unmistakeable hardness of his arousal pushing against your abdomen.

You sighed out a breathy moan. The solid strength of his body against yours wasn’t enough; you wanted his heavy weight bearing down on yours and you wanted to be entangled in the cage of his strong arms while your bodies joined and moulded to each other’s in the most carnal of ways. Intoxicated by your primeval craving for him, one of your hands skimmed down to caress the skin of his hip while the other encircled his tail near its base, stroking it in a crude mimicry of what you could be doing to his cock instead.

Angling your head up you nuzzled at his jaw, “I don’t want to get out of here. Take me. I’ll be good to you, Neteyam.”

Neteyam’s tail tensed, arcing into a stiff curl towards his upper back as he enjoyed the tormenting stroke of your hand over one of the most erogenous zones of his body. His pelvis rolled lightly, rubbing the clothed length of his erection against you. His breathing was coming in harsh pants by your ear now and his frame juddered with barely reined control.

The fragility of his restraint was palpable in his voice when he growled out a final warning, “I won’t be gentle or patient. I will use you, fuck you and knot you until you’re overflowing with me, in your hands, in your pussy, from your lips; you’ll taste me on your tongue for weeks.”

You pushed your nose into the crook of his neck and took a deep inhale of him, followed by a daring lick of your tongue right over one of his scent glands. Your response was a wanton hiss, “Yes, alpha.”

You both felt and heard Neteyam’s restraint snap. He crushed your slighter frame to his with a coarse growl that sent hot shivers prickling through you. The thin ties of your delicately strung top strained against your skin for only a brief moment before they gave way in a burst of beads, feathers and leaves, as he tore the garment from your body to expose your breasts.

Your nipples kissed the cooling night air and your gaze tilted skyward when he fisted one hand in the braids at the base of your skull, bending you backward with a strong arm around your waist to support your weight entirely. You only managed a glimpse of his eyes, ravenous with lust, before he delivered a swift and biting kiss to one of your breasts. The rasp of his tongue over the pointed bud made you cry out and molten heat began to liquefy at the junction of your thighs.

You’d succeeded in awakening the rutting alpha and you knew that you would be devoured tonight and for the next three or four days until his rut subsided.

Neteyam’s hands were vise-like around you, clutching you to him as you arched backward, partially suspended in the secure cradle of his hold. You had one leg hitched around his hip while the other remained grounded. He growled feverishly as he feasted on your breasts, nipping, sucking and leaving purpling love bites that would mark your skin for days. You could feel yourself descending into a lust-filled haze of your own and a sense of urgency speared through the deepening fog when you remembered you were both in the middle of a glade where anyone could walk in on you.

Your fingers squeezed at the firm muscle of his shoulders and you urged him with a gasp, “We need to get to a haven.”

Neteyam’s only response was to scoop a forearm under your bottom to lift you upright and back you against the trunk of the nearest tree. The skin of your neck was the next location of his desirous assault. His tongue laved against your scent glands and when he sucked on the sensitive spot in an open-mouthed kiss, you felt the first gush of slick wet your inner thighs. One of his arms loosened from beneath your rear and he palmed at one cheek of your bottom with his freed hand. His fingers snaked towards your core to probe at the drenched fabric over your pussy and you felt more than heard the animalistic rumble of approval in his chest.

“You smell so fucking good.” He remarked, his voice deep and gravelly, “Bet you taste good too.”

You gave an involuntary squeal when two of his fingers pushed roughly past the side-seam of the fabric to penetrate you down to his last knuckle. Though sudden, the entry was easy, your slick making your core slippery as a river eel. Your pussy clenched down around his fingers, welcoming them into your snug heat. Neteyam pumped his fingers several times and your head lolled, thudding back onto the tree bark behind you, your eyes rolling into your skull at the pleasure.

Your inner walls pulsed and throbbed while his fingers worked and when he withdrew them moments later, the whine of protest you let out was pitiful. Through half-lidded eyes you watched him bring his fingers, shining with your slick, to his mouth where he then sucked the digits clean with a primal groan of satisfaction.

He fixed you with wild eyes as he licked his lips and smirked, “You taste like the sweetest nectar.”

You whimpered at his salacious action. There was no trace of restraint left in the burning amber of his eyes. He’d succumbed fully to the impulse of his rut and there would be no stopping him now. You needed to get to a haven or he’d take you with wild abandon here on the forest floor of the glade.

You squirmed against his hard body, still thoroughly pinned between his torso and the tree, “Neteyam, let’s go. There’s a haven not far from here.”

He brushed your comment off with a scoff, busying himself with nibbling at the delicate shell of one of your ears instead. He murmured, “No, I want you here. Now.”

Great Mother, you wanted to just give in to him… But the risk of being walked in on was only one of your concerns. Neither of you would be thinking straight soon and it was dangerous out in the open where predators lurked. Havens provided a safe and sheltered space for individuals and couples to weather the blissful storms of heats and ruts. They were also well-stocked with food, fruit and plenty of water to last several days. It went without saying that a lot of moisture was lost during these liaisons, so water to rehydrate was of great importance.

However, convincing a rutting alpha male using logic wasn’t going to work, so you had to work smart.

Gathering what was left of your wits, you purred to him, “Yes, alpha. Take your tewng (loincloth) off and have me then.”

Neteyam’s grin was a leer of endorsement at your suggestion and he shifted to remove his clothing. The moment he stepped back enough to allow your feet to touch the earth, you seized the opportunity darting out to the side away from him and broke into a run towards the nearest haven. His roar of outrage at your escape was thunderous and it echoed through the canopy above.

You pumped your legs as hard as you could, knowing that you were ultimately no match for his warrior athleticism and male strength. He would catch you sooner or later. You could see the thatched roof of the haven hut in the distance and you could only hope you reached it before he caught you. His heavy footfalls were swift at your back and your body thrummed with exhilaration at the chase. Your pussy throbbed and tingled in anticipation and another gush of warm slick trickled down your thighs. Your loincloth was ruined you were sure. You didn’t think any amount of washing was going to remove the pungent scent of your arousal that had thoroughly soaked its fibres.

Neteyam’s growls sounded like they were right behind you and you didn’t know if it was your imagination, but you swore you could feel his hot breath against the nape of your neck. Your nipples prickled, erect, as your pert breasts bounced while you ran. A little spark of triumph burst in your chest when you realised you’d succeeded in getting Neteyam to accept a rut partner. The fact that you’d seduced him into accepting you as the partner in question was just an added bonus.

Eywa you couldn’t wait for him to touch you and consume you in his desire… You’d fantasised about this countless times…

Reaching the draping flaps of the haven, you burst into the space just as you felt Neteyam’s limbs tangle with yours when he reached out to grab you. You tripped over one of his feet, falling to your knees when he didn’t manage to grab your upper arms in time to stop your tumble. The woven rug on the haven floor cushioned your knees, thankfully, and apart from a slightly painful thud from the impact, you were otherwise unhurt.

Spinning on all fours to face him, you were forced back onto your haunches when you found him looming over you, barely an arm’s length from you. His chest was rising and falling deeply, but it wasn’t because he was out of breath. No, a warrior’s stamina was unmatched. His uninhibited desire was the cause of his heaving breaths. He was completely naked, having managed to rid himself from his loincloth, and his arousal was clear from the jutting length of his impressive erection.

Still on sitting on your heels, you peered up at his towering form. The look in his eyes was voracious, feral, and you thrilled in anticipation. Eywa help you, his cock was gorgeous… It was long and girthy, and abeautiful striated blue with swirling tanhì adorning its length. You could see the beginnings of his knot at the base of it, though it hadn’t yet begun to swell. His cock was topped with a fat and blushing mauve head, its slit already dribbling a tantalising string of pre-cum.

Neteyam approached you, his teeth gleaming in the diminished light of the haven’s interior. He grouched petulantly, “Don’t you fucking run from me again.”

“I-I thought it was best that we settle here.” You stuttered in response, your eyeline still very focused on his rigid cock as it neared your face with his approach.

“You thought it best, huh?” Neteyam mocked, and his expression turned wicked as he proceeded to run the head of his cock against the seam of your lips, “I think it’s best if I stuff that mouth of yours, omega.”

Your mouth popped open in unrestrained agreement and you moaned when he pushed the fat tip into your eager mouth. You felt your jaw stretch to its limit as he pushed the remainder of his length past your lips and you fought your gag reflex as the head of him hit the back of your throat. This wasn’t the first time you’d seen an alpha through his rut. Your arrangement with Nalu was a mutual one; he saw you through your heats and you assisted with his ruts. So, the deep blowjob wasn’t new, but Neteyam wasn’t small by any means. Like his tall stature and brawny frame, he was proportionate here too.

The taste of him was tangy and musky on your tongue while you swallowed him down as best you could. Neteyam’s groans of pleasure rang out around you, and he threaded the fingers of one hand through your braids at the crown of your head while his other and cupped your cheek. His hips began to piston, fucking your face in a slow and deliberate drag of his hard flesh in and out of your mouth. You encircled the base of his cock with one hand where the bulbous tissue of his knot was burgeoning.

“Fuck, you look so pretty with your mouth full of my cock.” Neteyam hissed tightly, his upper lip curled upward in a carnal snarl of enjoyment.

You groaned around him and your free hand moved to tweak at one of your nipples, which sent electrifying jolts of pleasure straight to your clit and core. Your slick must be pooling on the rug beneath you now, you were certain. Your pussy burned with molten pleasure and every nerve ending there was impatient to be touched, but you had to serve your alpha first.

Neteyam picked up the pace of his hips and tears stung in the inner corners of your eyes as you concentrated on breathing through your nose while choking on his cock every time he bottomed out. You continued to massage his knot, loving the way the length of him pulsated in bliss in your mouth.

“You’re a good girl. Good little omega. You like choking on your alpha’s cock, do you? Yeah, that’s it. Reach down into that tewng and play with yourself for me.”

Great Mother, Neteyam’s dirty mouth was so sexy… This certainly was a side of him you’d never seen, the alpha male side that he’d fought so hard to keep hidden from you. You loved it… This was better than any fantasy you’d ever had…

You loosened the ties of your loincloth with your free hand, letting the sodden fabric peel away from the hottest part of you. When your fingers ghosted past your swollen clit you whined wretchedly, earning a strangled grunt from Neteyam as your whine vibrated around his cock. You rubbed at your clit whilst intermittently fingering your sopping pussy and the bliss your actions wrought on your core caused another squirt of slick onto the rug.

You could feel Neteyam’s pre-cum sliding down your throat as mumbled words of encouragement spilled from his lips, telling you how good your mouth felt, telling you how he loved that you were so slick for him.

“Oh I’m going to fill your mouth up so good and then I’m going to fuck and fill your slick-drenched pussy up too.”

You knew his first release was nearing by the way his cock hardened impossibly further and you gripped his swollen knot tightly, squeezing it to coax his first orgasm from him. It worked almost instantly and he tensed with a final thrust into your mouth, a choked cry escaping him as he spilled his seed down your throat. You rubbed frantically at your clit, thanking Eywa when you were rewarded with a small orgasm of your own.

Neteyam withdrew from your mouth and you swallowed down the remnants of his release, gasping a little for more breath now that you were able to fill your lungs fully. Reaching for you, Neteyam clasped hold of your upper arms and hauled you to your feet, and your loincloth slipped off your hips and tail to fall to your ankles.

He cupped your cheek with one hand, his thumb stroking your cheek, “You’re being such a good girl for me. Do you want me to fuck you now? Do you want me to knot you, little omega?”

Your legs were wobbly and you almost wanted to cry from the relief of his question. Of course you wanted him to fuck you… You wanted to be stretched out and locked onto his knot… So it was an easy answer, “Yes please, alpha.”

Neteyam’s mouth found yours in a fiery kiss and you opened your mouth to allow him to plunder it. His tongue swept against yours as your heads twisted and melded, flooding your mouth full of his alpha pheromones.

An alpha’s saliva was sweet and saturated with rut pheromones that could bring on an omega female’s heat if she was close enough to that part of her cycle. In other cases, the pheromones would signal the omega’s body to produce a copious amount of slick to aid and enable the knotting process. Not that you needed any encouragement, mind you. Your pussy was clenching and squeezing impatiently and your slick was already running down your thighs to your lower legs.

You’d daydreamed before of what it would be like to kiss Neteyam. Somehow you’d always imagined it to be soft and sweet; maybe after an evening meal in the fading light of the bonfire on your birthday, on his birthday, or maybe just one day in your dreams when he decided that he wanted you too. Perhaps it was his adamance in the past that the two of you would never share heats and ruts together, but you’d never envisioned your first kiss with Neteyam to be like this; passionate, wild and full of unbridled lust. The reality far outweighed your dreams, you decided.

Your fingers scrabbed for purchased at his shoulders as you pushed onto the balls of your feet to return his ardent kisses. Neteyam had looped an arm around the small of your back again, securing your front to his, and the drag of your pebbled nipples against the skin of his chest was torturous. He slipped a hand between your bodies to run the flat of his hand over your core, deftly letting your swollen clit slip between two of his fingers while he stroked you back and forth.

A high-pitched keen was your reaction and your hips bucked into his teasing touch. Your pussy ached to be filled and stretched to full capacity. You felt desperate, almost more desperate than Neteyam appeared to be, which was unexpected considering he was the one in rut. However, the roguish smirk on his handsome face while he watched you pant and whimper told you that this alpha enjoyed a bit of a build-up; he liked to play with his toys.

“Alpha, please.” You importuned, your body releasing yet another squirt of slick as Neteyam rubbed insistent circles around your sensitive bud, “I need you. I need your knot.”

He hushed you with a kiss, whispering a taunt against your lips, “So eager, you poor girl. Does it hurt that I’m making you wait?”

“Yeah,” Your voice was breathy and unstable, and you backed your response with several nods of your head. It was so agonisingly good, what his fingers were doing, rolling and rubbing your sweet nub.

“Show your alpha where it hurts, go on.”

Neteyam gently pushed you away from him, indicating with an upward tip of his chin towards the lush pile of bedding behind you. You backed up towards the little nest of blankets and mats, and you hastily settled yourself on your back in the centre of it all. Spreading your lithe legs wide and hitching your knees up as high as they would go, you put yourself on display for him. You didn’t need to look to know your pussy was puffy and swollen, glistening with slick.

A harsh groan grated out from him and you watched as he began to stroke his still erect cock. That was the thing with ruts. Alpha males had little to no refractory period during this time. They were able to copulate multiple times and ejaculate repeatedly without issue. Neteyam’s knot was an angry-looking purple now and his cock was littered with veins and ridges that stood out along its shaft.

Your fingers found your core again and you penetrated yourself with all three fingers of one hand while its twin took care of your clit. The squelch of your pussy was lewd, your slick pouring out of you now as your inner walls clamped and released with pleasure.

With a whimper of his own, Neteyam knelt between your parted thighs, fisting his cock furiously, “Is that all for me, sweet thing? You hungry for my cock?”

Your answer was barked out in desperation, his teasing too much for you now, “Yes, just fuck me now!”

The pressure low in your pelvis was unbearable where your fingers pressed and rubbed at your g-spot inside you. And you squeezed your pelvic muscles outward, forcing a gushing squirt to splatter all up Neteyam’s front. You might have made even more of a mess, but it did the trick.

Neteyam surged over you in the next instant, slamming his pelvis into yours within the cradle of your hips. His elbows and forearms caged you on either side of your head as he settled over your body. You could feel the thick tip of his cockhead probing through your slippery folds, and with a sharp and unforgiving thrust, the full length of him breached you, tip, shaft and knot.

Your scream of gratification was hoarse, as was his cry of pleasure. His knot was swollen but not yet to its full extent and with each brutal roll of his hips, the bulbous flesh of it pushed in and out from your lower lips with a fleshy pop. As a healer and spiritual priestess in training, there were many times that you gave thanks to Eywa, but never more so than in this very moment. The extreme pleasure was dizzying, the ridged girth of him kneading against the walls of your pussy while his knot continued to stretch your entrance.

“You feel like heaven.” Neteyam moaned by your cheek and you turned your head to claim his lips again in a searing kiss.

He was hot and hard over you and your inner omega revelled in the sensation. You never wanted this to end as his hips continued their onslaught. His thrusts were becoming slowly becoming shallower. He was deep inside you, but the main point of friction between you was focussed on his swollen knot pulling and pushing from your tight entrance. Your nipples were hard, tingling peaks; your pussy was fluttering, your clit was throbbing and even your toes were curled inward tightly.

“Alpha, I’m close.” You mewled, clutching at his torso, your fingernails scoring lines down his back, “I’m almost there!”

With a fluidity and an ease that was testament to his brute strength, Neteyam sat back onto his haunches and without pulling out of you, he threw one of your legs over him and manoeuvred your hips to elevate them. Your rump was raised high in the air while he knelt behind you. You moved onto all fours to accommodate the new position, but you felt him reach forward to grasp your kuru (neural queue) tightly and push your face back against the bedding.

You emitted a soft cry of discomfort at his tight grip on your kuru, but you bore it because the pain only seemed to heighten your pleasure. Neteyam set a brutal pace of thrusts then, rutting into you roughly. The furious snap of his hips against your bottom caused a series of jarring wails to leave you, the lascivious sound muffled only because your face was partially obscured by the bedding beneath you.

“Fuck, you good little omega. I’m going to knot you so hard after you cum for me.” Neteyam vowed, rumbling curses and growls falling from his lips as he sped you both to your inevitable climaxes.

His knot was bigger now, engorged to its maximum and when the bulbous round of it slipped past your entrance on his next thrust, your orgasm slammed into you. Your pussy squeezed and clamped down hard around his knot, locking him into place within you as several streams of squirt spurted from you with each glorious pulse of your climax.

Neteyam’s roar of ecstasy was uncontrolled and ear-splitting. His strapping frame collapsed over yours, his front aligned with your back, and his thighs quaked against you while he ejaculated. His knot left you both tied to each other and prevented any of his semen from escaping your locked bodies. You felt the viscous build-up of it within you like an aching heat in your lower pelvis.

Thoroughly spent for the moment, Neteyam gingerly rolled onto his side, taking you with him into a spooning position. Your tail lay limp over his hip and your breaths were noisy while you recovered from your high. Immense contentment and satisfaction washed through you and you smiled to yourself and brushed several damp strands of hair from your cheek. His knot still pulsed lightly, emitting more semen periodically into your body.

You both lounged in blissful silence for a while until Neteyam spoke.

“Lei?” Neteyam’s voice was quiet, meek almost, and the sound was a stark contrast to how he’d just been.

Craning your neck back as comfortably as it would allow, your turned your head to look at him. His gold eyes were wide and anxious, and there was a clarity in them now that was absent before in the raging heat of his rutting. There was always a period after sex and knotting when an alpha’s rut hormones would wane, before escalating again to repeat the entire cycle. Neteyam was clearly experiencing this moment of lucidity.

“Hey you,” You breathed with a shy smile, “Feeling better?”

Neteyam swallowed tightly and his forehead was wrinkled in a worried frown, “I’m sorry, was I too rough? I couldn’t help it. I don’t know what came over me, I just- It’s so-”

Silencing him with a gentle nibble of his bottom lip, you soothed him, “Shh, it’s alright. You weren’t too rough. It was wonderful and natural, and everything it should’ve been. Don’t apologise. I enjoyed it a lot.”

“Not so gentlemanly after all, am I? Now you’ve seen what a brute I can be.” Neteyam fretted and his shame could be heard in his voice.

“Hey, stop it!” You hissed, rebuking him sharply, “This is only one part of you. It doesn’t define you. You’re still my charming and gentle Neteyam. You’re my best friend, I know you. I see you.”

Neteyam’s frown faded, relief colouring his handsome features. He rested his forehead against yours and returned the sentiment tenderly, “I see you. You’re my best friend too. Maybe a little more than that now?”

“No more stubbornness.” You declared matter-of-factly, though a delighted grin stretched your cheeks at his words, “You’ve filled me to the brim once now, might as well do it every time you need a partner from now on.”

You smirked wickedly at him then and intentionally clenched your pelvic muscles around his knot again. Your action forced another round of ejaculation from Neteyam and his groan was piteous as pleasure wracked him once more. His knot wouldn’t subside for at least another hour and you settled back against him, comfortably tied. Your eyes felt heavy and you knew the smart thing to do was to take a little nap to recharge. After all, that was only round one. There would be many more rounds over the next several days and you planned to enjoy them to the fullest.

***~~~***

Author's Note: Thank you all for reading! 😘 Your support means the world to me. As always, your reblogs, comments & likes are all very appreciated. Much love to you all. 😍 (Reblogging especially helps circulate content better, so remember to always reblog an artist's work if you enjoyed something.) I'm going to head off on my trip now & while I won't have much internet, I'll check in periodically. Gosh I'm going to miss ya'll until I'm back! xx

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eraenaa · 2 months

Text

Still Casual?

Part two of Casual

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: You promised yourself that you’re never going to settle for casual ever again— promised yourself you would never be another casualty of Rafe Cameron.

Warnings: ¿Groveling?, Mentions of Substance Use, P in V Sex, Oral Sex (F & M receiving {69}), Very Slight use of Force, Not Proofread

Word Count: 4,681

It was forthcoming; the warning signs were clear and loud, and red flags were waving, but you ignored them and proceeded without caution. Now, you must reap the consequence of living for the hope of it all. You returned home quickly after seeing such a scene at Rafe’s party. It was pathetic, but you kept looking at your phone in hopes that he would leave a message or even call you, wondering why you didn’t come. But why would he? He was preoccupied and entertained by a new ever-lovely jewel— what need would he have of you? You couldn’t even let yourself cry— you couldn’t even mourn because what is there to mourn? You could not grieve something that was casual. It would be foolish of you to do so.

Now, you lay in your room trying to convince yourself that it was not as deep as you had believed it to be. That it should not affect you this greatly. Convincing yourself to be numb as your heart beats betrayal. You have betrayed yourself because you desired more— regretted your actions because you had settled for casual.

You hesitated to call your friends and tell them what had happened, fearing they say, “I told you so” and “I warned you,” but they were gracious enough to keep those thoughts to themselves, suggesting you should visit them in the city and keep your mind off Rafe, which was difficult to do whilst on the island. It was a spontaneous decision, but with one message to your parents telling them that you’ll be going to New York and that you’ll need to borrow their jet and them replying with a thumbs up, you were quick to go wheels up and fly away from the outer banks.

“So, is it over now? Did you break it off with him?” Your friends asked as you gathered for brunch in the city. You frowned at their question, “What’s there to break off? We weren’t anything,” You mumbled. “Exactly, you weren’t anything! Why, then, are you so wounded?” Your friend, who was notorious for being frank and a tad insensitive, asked. You stayed quiet, not wanting to word out that you had optimism that your dalliance with Rafe would turn into something more. “You know what you should do?” Your friend asked, and you waited for them to finish their thought. “Give him a taste of his own medicine— the last time I was there, weren’t there two guys fighting for your attention? Use them and flaunt to Rafe this casualness he’s insisting on,” They suggested, and you scrunched up your nose in disagreement.

“I’m not gonna do that! I… I’m not gonna use some innocent guy as a tool in the hopes of making Rafe jealous! That’s just mean and petty; besides, it might not even work.” You reasoned. “I just don’t want casual anymore. I want an actual relationship.” You sighed and locked eyes with your two closest friends. “You know what you have to do, don’t you?’ They asked, and you dejectedly nodded your head. “It’s just… if I end our arrangement, it means it’ll be the end of all that great sex,” you solemnly said, making your friends laugh at your admittance. “Oh, come on, it can’t be that great,” your friend scoffed in doubt, but you shook your head. “It is…I— the other night, he made me come seven times…seven! I could barely walk the next day,” you whispered, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as you recalled that memory.

“Really? Seven times?” Your friend asked, intrigued, and you nodded your head, seeing the slight bewilderment in their eyes. “No! That’s beside the point! You deserve someone better— like those guys in those movies and books you love! Not this… frat bro who uses women as his cock warmer!” You sighed and nodded your head in agreement. “I knew you moving to North Carolina was a mistake,” Your friend sighed, “You’re too good for that place— it’s practically Florida!” Your friends said it with disgust, and you laughed at their snobbiness. You spent a week in the city, your friends trying hard to preoccupy your mind and show that you deserved better than Rafe. That you should never settle again— that tens or even hundreds of guys would treat you better than he would. Taking you to bars and parties from Brooklyn to the Upper East Side just to find a guy that would take your mind off of Rafe, none did the job.

You went back to the Outer Banks feeling a bit better, your friends finally convincing you to remove any casual attachments because, knowing you, you would stay for more and be subjected to being one of Rafe’s playthings as long as he’d hold you in his arms. You were about to message him, asking him to meet you by the beach to halt your affairs with him and end your casual relationship. But before you could even type out the message, the doorbell rang, and you heard the hushed voice of the housemaid talking with Rafe. You furrowed your brows but stayed in your spot, not wanting to check if it was actually Rafe because if he saw you now, you would have no choice but to halt and cut ties.

“Where were you? I’ve been calling you since last week, and you’ve been ignoring my calls and messages.” Your back was against him as he found you in the dining room. Your knees felt weak as you heard the deep baritone of his voice and the distinct smell of his cologne. You gathered the courage to face him, “I was in New York,” You reasoned and tried hard not to show hesitancy on your face. “Is that why you missed my party? I was waiting for you, and I even got that expensive ass wine you like because you don’t drink beer,” Rafe asked, walking towards you; his voice held confusion and, dare you say, sadness or hurt because you ceased contact with him for almost two weeks.

You backed away towards the table and shook your head, willing yourself to stay strong and not grow soft by his charms or be attracted by his look; it was impossibly hard to do so. “No… I… went to your party,” You said, watching as Rafe’s brows shit in surprise, him inching towards you. “And, uhm… whilst I was there, I realized something.” You added and backed yourself toward the dining room table, nowhere to go as Rafe stood inches from you. “What?” He asked, trying to capture your gaze, but you were staring at the floor. You took a deep breath before the words left your lips, uncertain and fearing how he would react. Surely, he won’t react badly, right? You were just casual; he won’t be throwing a fit because you decided to end your dalliance. It won’t affect him; it won’t anger or sadden him. And the thought of him being unaffected wounded you.

“I…I realized I don’t want this. I don’t want casual.” You explained. There was a beat of silence, and you finally lifted your gaze to see the confusion in Rafe’s blue eyes. “What… I don’t understand. I— you wanted this,” He said, and you watched the concussion in his eyes hide slight anger. “I thought I did. I thought I could do casual, but Rafe…” You sighed and stepped aside to put distance between the two of you. “Rafe, I’m a relationship type of girl; I like— I need commitment.” You explained. Rafe scoffed and shook his head, following you in the direction where you had walked off. “What is this? Some type of ultimatum? Now what? You’re trapping me in a relationship?” He spat, and you frowned at his words.

“No, I’m doing the opposite! Rafe, I want commitment; I want an actual relationship, and I am completely aware that that is the last thing you want, which is why I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” You reasoned, growing frightened as the rage in his eyes was peeking through. “So what? You’re breaking up with me?” He gritted out, walking towards you, but you shook your head and walked further from him. “No, to break up with you meant we were in a relationship. You made it perfectly clear to me and to everyone that we weren’t,” The anger went quiet on his face, confusion covering it once more. “Nothing but a pastime— purely physical,” You sighed, reciting the words he thought you did not hear him say. You hear his heavy sigh, and an excuse was ready to be uttered from his lips. “I don’t wanna be your hobby anymore,”

You walked off and heard him follow you towards the front door. “Baby, no— I,” You shook your head and felt proud of yourself as his little endearment did not waver your judgment. Continuing to open the door and motioned for him to leave. “I’ll see you around, Rafe,” You tried to smile and gently pushed him out of your home, out of your life.

Two days passed since your last encounter with Rafe, and you finally decided to leave the solace of your home and venture to… anywhere. You knew you could not go about the country club for a round of tennis, knowing Rafe often frequents there for a round of golf. And you could not as well accept the invitation of Weezy and Sarah to hang out in their home. So you headed to the beach, to a cafe that had an incomparable view of the ocean.

You were sitting by the window, your gaze shifting between the book you had brought and the crash of waves. Your quiet and focus were disrupted by the sound of a chair scraping and a presence appearing beside you. “That’s a good book,” You turned to your right in confusion, only to be met with blue eyes and a charming smirk on a familiar face. “You haven’t read, let alone heard of this book, Rafe,” you sighed, scooting further from him to keep your distance.

Rafe clenched his jaw as he felt you inch further from him. Gathering your things to leave. “How long are you gonna keep up with this, huh? Come on, you may not want casual, but you cannot lie and say you don’t want me as well,” Rafe followed you out as you hurriedly walked away from him. You sighed and shook your head, mumbling “Wanted,” as a correction for Rafe’s statement. “What?” He asked and took hold of your hand as you started to walk off once more. “Wanted. It’s in the past; I no longer want casual, and I no longer want you. Just leave this be, Rafe.” You tried to act civil, and respectful. Trying to maintain civility and not burn a bridge that, in all honesty, you would very much like to keep.

You feel his hold on your hand tighten slightly and see the rage in his eye, trying hard to be suppressed. “You have tens of girls waiting to be your next casualty, Rafe. Let’s leave this be… it has run its course. I don’t want meaningless hookups, and it’s clear that that is all you could give me.” Rafe’s jaw clenched as the truth slipped from your lips. “Bye, Rafe,” You said once more and started to walk away from him. “What do I have to do for us to go back to the way it was?” He called after a while; you wanted to groan as he followed you once more. “Come on, baby. I’ll give you a ride home, and we can talk about it… please,” You were starting to grow frustrated as his hands placed themselves on your waist again; it was shameful that it quickly brought back the need in you.

“No, I’ll walk. And Rafe…you can’t have to do anything for us to go back to the way that it was— I don’t want to go back to the way that it was. I have explained it to you thrice now. I don’t want casual!” You were practically screaming, and you hated that you lost composure. You wanted to go about this whole situation maturely, but Rafe was a test of your patience. “God, you’re so hot when you’re angry.” Was all he said, a teasing twinkle in his eyes and a smirk returned to his lips. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, turning away from him as you were now desperate to leave. But Rafe never relinquished his hold of you, only pulling you close and smashed your lips. You kept your jaw clenched as he eagerly tried to solicit a reaction from you— kissed you fervently as he was desperate that you would reciprocate his kiss. You hear him groan and let out a frustrated sigh as he parted for air. “Enough, Rafe. It’s done; we’re through with this.” You sternly said and wiped your lips of him.

A week has passed since Rafe kissed you. And you would admit, you were feeling withdrawals. You were missing him. Missing the way he held you close in sleep, with him burying his face in the crook of your neck or in your hair, and the way his arms would wrap around you so tightly yet so comfortingly. You missed how he would kiss your lips first thing in the morning and last thing in the night. You missed how he would bring pints you ice cream after taking Weezy to the ice cream parlor. You missed how he made you feel wanted— how he made you feel like you were the only one to bring him such blinding pleasure when you laid. You missed how you thought that you were made for him and how he was made for you. You missed Rafe. But not wholly enough to settle to be one of his girls once more.

You were having a rare family dinner, and your parents finally came back from their trip and decided to stay home for at least a week and it went by quickly, with this being their last night and them flying off first thing tomorrow morning. You tried not to appear sullen— to actually enjoy their company, but it was difficult as Rafe was the constant thought in your head. You were seated in the dining room, your parents discussing their next trips and asked about your recent venture to New York, when the doorbell rang. You oddly felt your heart spike as you heard shuffling when your maid went to see who the visitor was. You licked your lips as you heard the far-off sound of Rafe calling for you, your maid entering the dining room and whispering that he came here for you. You excused yourself from your parents and hastily went to the front door, horrid to see the state Rafe was in.

His eyes were bloodshot, and his form more rigid. There was a thing sheen of sweat on his forehead, and he smelt of booze, and your eyes did not miss the smidge of white powder on the side of his nose. He was fucking high.

“Hi, baby… you look so pretty,” He slurred as he stumbled closer to you. You were mortified that he could be seen by your parents, especially in such a state. “Oh, you’re wearing one… one of those going out dresses,” he mumbled again, his hand going to your waist and feeling the fabric of your dress. “Are you on a fucking date? What? You fucking replaced me already, huh? Is that it?” He was no longer mumbling; his mellow state turned to rage, and you looked back down the hall, fearing your parents heard. “Rafe, shh… my parents are here; they cannot see you like this.” You tried to push him out, but he resisted, now more determined to step foot further into your house. “Like what? Are you ashamed of me? Is that why you ended it?” You stared up at him with him with a deep frown. You hear your parents call for you, and you feel your stomach twist in fear.

You weighed your options; you could not let your parents see Rafe, but you could not push him out of your home and leave him in such a state. So you had no choice but to guide him towards your room once more. “Hm… I knew you couldn’t resist me. I missed you so much; I missed the way you would scr—“ You shushed him and made him sit on your bed, “I’ll be back— I still have dinner with my parents.” You said and hoped your mother and father would not grow suspicious of your absence.

Your emotions were mixed as Rafe wrapped his strong arms around your waist as you stood before him. He nuzzled his face on your torso and hummed in satisfaction. “I missed you, baby… tell me you missed me too,” He mumbled against your frame. You tried to push him away, but he would only whine and hold you tighter. You had the faintest clue on how to handle him in a drunken and high state— he never was neither of those things whilst you two had your arrangements. “Rafe, please, my parents are getting suspicious. I’ll come back in a while.” You looked down at Rafe, who looked up to you with such vulnerability in his eyes that you had never seen. “I promise I’ll be back,” you sighed and kissed his cheek as a reassurance. Rafe finally relinquished his hold, and you ran back to the dining room and prayed your parents wouldn’t ask too many questions.

Dinner somehow lasted for hours. Your parents were insistent on doing some bonding after many months away, playing board games, and even watching one of your favorite childhood movies. It was nice, you admit, to spend more time with your parents, but the thought of Rafe trying to sober up in your room and that he might be caught caused you to shrink in fear and panic.

It was nearing midnight when you finally returned to your room, and you saw Rafe newly showered and waiting for you by the foot of your bed. “Do you want water?” You asked as you saw that he had sobered up. “No, I’m fine,” He said, but he could not meet your eyes. There was a moment of tense and awkward silence between the two of you. “You should… you should probably go,” You sighed and moved to the other side of your room to remove the earrings you adorned.

Rafe did not utter a word, and you bit your lip as you turned to him. “Why?” He asked after a quiet moment. “Why did you end it?” He asked, and you felt exhaustion wash over you. “Rafe, I told you, I realized I don’t want casual, and that is all you are capable of. I’m not going to force myself and my wish for commitment upon you.” Rafe shook his head, “No. You were perfectly fine with our arrangement— what the fuck changed?” You licked your lips and thought twice if you should share with him your moment of realization. “I went to your party.” You stated and took your seat next to him. You saw from the side of your eye that Rafe had a frown on his face as he tried to take hold of your hand. “I went to your party and saw you making out with another girl… and there I realized that I can’t be casual. I can’t be the chill girl who settles for sharing someone they really like.”

“You really like me?” Rafe asked, ignoring all your other statements. You couldn’t help but laugh as a boyish grin spread across his lips. “Liked, is the key word here,” You say with a small smile, but the grin on his lips faltered.

“I don’t want casual.” Rafe suddenly announced and humorlessly laughed with a shake of your head. “You’re just saying that because you want us to fuck again,” There was a sting in your heart as you said the words. “No,” He denied, and you shook your head, standing up to put distance between the two of you. “Can you fucking stop walking away from me!” He gritted out and pulled you to sit beside him once more. “I never saw this as casual, okay?” You scoffed at his lie. “It’s true!” He defended, “Rafe, I heard you with your friends— you told me on three occasions what we are. I saw you making out with a girl! You saw me as nothing but casual!”

“I don’t think you know what casual really is,” Rafe sighed and cupped your cheek; you tried to shift his hold, but you grew weak as you missed the way his large, calloused palm cupped your cheek. “If we were just casual, I wouldn’t have spent every moment of my free time with you. I wouldn’t be staying with you after we had sex and hold you ‘till we fall asleep. If we were casual, I wouldn’t attempt to cook you breakfast or go with you to those bookstores for hours just to hold the things you wanted to buy… I wouldn’t have told you about my issues with my dad, let alone let you meet my family! Baby, it was never casual.” You chewed on your lips as you felt your heart flutter, but your mind was battling with it. “You were kissing another girl— you bragged to your friends that I was nothing but a pastime.”

“Those were mistakes. Topper was giving me a hard time— kept teasing me of how whipped I was with you and… I just wasn’t ready to admit it,” You bit your tongue as you felt the want to let a small smile slip your lips. “And at the party?” You instead asked, reminding yourself of the reason why you had the epiphany that you and Rafe could not work out. “It was a bigger mistake,” Rafe sighed, and you feel his thumb caressing your cheek, straying to touch your lips. “But it only made me realize more clearly that all I want to kiss and hold— the only one I want is you,” You leaned in closer to his touch. Ignoring the fact that your friends would be dismayed by your actions because you faltered by his words and his touch. “Do you believe me?” He asked as his face was inching closer to yours. You could not utter a word, but instead, you just moved to kiss his lips that you had desperately missed.

“Rafe,” You mewled as his lips moved to your neck and his hand gripped your bosom. “You missed me, haven’t you, baby? Admit it, pretty girl,” Rafe hummed and nipped your skin but quickly soothed it with his tongue. You feel his ringed hand grips your thigh, his hand trailing up higher and higher. “Say it, pretty baby, tell me how much you’ve missed me,” Rafe practically growled. “Oh god, I missed you— so much,” You finally uttered and moved to straddle and push him down on the bed. You heard Rafe chuckle as it was your turn to pepper kisses on his neck. You feel his strong hands grip the flesh of your ass, and he guides you to grind upon him. “Let me prove to you that you’re the only one I want— will ever want, for that matter.” You gasped as Rafe barbarically ripped off your dress. “Rafe, that was couture,” You distractedly said as the fine dress was torn. “Baby, I don’t fucking care, I’ll buy you a new one.” He said and caught your lips as his hands fondled your exposed breasts, and your fingers tugged at the hem of his shirt.

Your hands trailed the skin of his exposed chest, feeling the contours of his impressive physique, and your hands hesitated and hovered over his trousers. You looked Rafe into his blue eyes, “All yours, baby, I’m all fucking yours,” He growled and harshly kissed your lips as your hand slipped into his trousers and grasped his length that was already hard and throbbing. Rafe had no patience and slipped off his pants himself, smirking as you marveled at his length and your mouth practically salivated at the sight of him.

“Tell me what you want, baby. Use your words,” Rafe whispered and nipped the lobe of your ear, making you whimper. “You… I want you,” You sighed as his fingers played with the sensitive buds of your breast. “Hm… what else?” Rafe urged, wanting to hear you foul and lewd— wanting you to utter your desires. “I… want… I want to suck you off and then fuck me after,” You whispered, staring into once clear blue eyes that now turned dark with lust and want. You gasped as Rafe altered your position. Him lying on your bed with your cunt hovering over his face. His hands guide you to lower yourself for your sex to meet his lips and your lips to meet his length.

You could not hold in the moan as his hands forced you to shift all of your weight atop him, and his hand gripped your hair whilst your tongue traced the length of his pulsating member. “Rafe… oh fuck,” You cried as his tongue darted in and out of you, and you finally gathered the courage to take him into your mouth. You had difficulty before; you had quite a sensitive gag reflex, and Rafe’s massive length tested that. “Such a good girl taking me in the pretty mouth… so fucking good, baby.” Rafe praised against your cunt and granted as your cunt grounded itself on his face in search of further friction. Rafe felt the back of your throat squeeze him, and he feared he might spill himself in your mouth; that could not be. He needed to feel you around him before he could let himself feel such pleasurable release.

You tried to catch your breath as Rafe repositioned you once more, you straddling him again. You buried your head in the crook of his neck as you sank down on his length. You hear Rafe wince in pleasure and pain as you sink into his cock and as you bit down on his shoulder blade. “So fucking tight… all fucking mine,” Rafe gritted as he was finally fully sheathed into you. “Rafe,” You called as you felt tears threatening to spill at the sensation of him being buried deep inside. “This is what you wanted, huh? You wanted to be fucked by me— only me,” You mindlessly nod your head as you feel him brush over a spot that muddle your mind and made your senses only feel pleasure. Rafe buried his face between your heaving chest and inhaled the scent of you deeply. Your hands scratched his back, making tingles reach the bottom of his spine, spurring him closer to climax.

And though Rafe was desperate for release— he was addicted to the feel of your clinging and clenching around him, to the sweet moans that spewed out of your plump lips, and the tears of pleasure that cascaded down your cheeks. He wanted to savor you in such a state for a few moments more, even if it meant he denied himself the pleasure he had been seeking for the past two weeks. “Rafe… I’m— fuck, Ra…” You could not even finish or properly word out your sentence as pleasure consumed you. “Fucking hell,” Rafe gritted and tilted his head back as he felt your release trigger his own.

You breathed heavily as you waited for him to spill himself inside you. Trying to compose your mind and control your breathing. You took his face between your hands, looking deeply into his eyes. “Still casual?” You breathlessly asked. Rafe shook his head and gripped your waist tightly. “Never casual.”

Thank you guys for the support on "Casual" <3

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crispy-armpit · 11 months

Text

✧ 𝖎'𝖒 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖘 ✧

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʀᴏᴄᴋꜱᴛᴀʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

☆⋆｡🎧𖦹 °✩ 🎸⋆⸜♩

⭒ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: reminisce about your forgotten first meeting with Deimos 3 years ago. meanwhile, you've been invited to watch his concert after the previous events. (pt.2)

⭒ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵: 𝘨𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘺, violence, implied stalking, reader gets called a bitch, (slight) sadism, kinda tame

⭒ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1,495

⭒ a/n: dear lord i am simping for my own art... hope u all enjoy reading this! i'll be opening asks & make a short introduction in the next post ^^ ( yan jock makes an appearance here too!)

will you venture down this path?

where is he?

did I walk in the wrong direction?

am I lost?

... nope, this is the right place.

you are standing alone in a dark alleyway, looking around the location you agreed to meet your friend in. checking the virtual clock on your phone, you count the time you have left before you go on stage. 32 minutes.

time was ticking and he was still nowhere in sight. there's no way you could perform the duet alone. anxiously, you try texting your friend again.

You 》 17:28

bro where are u

i'm alr here

are u lost again

LIAM

liam

liaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam

fuck it, i'm leaving him. alleys are never good news. ever since you entered the place, your stomach has been in knots and the back of your head was tingling. it's almost as if... someone's been watching you.

typing on the small screen, you tell him you're going to meet him behind the stage instead. you speed walk towards the end of the tunnel, relieved you were leaving this place. you almost reach the exit until a rough hand pulls on your wrist.

a gruff voice speaks, "hey, you dropped this."

SHIT, I'M GOING TO DIE—

without thinking, you instinctively clench your fists into a ball and punch the unknown 'assailant' on the nose— effectively causing him to bleed. the stranger gasps out various curse words as you turn to scream and run away.

"I'M SORRYYyyyy—"

knuckles still bruised from the impact, you try to hide them as best as you can from the crowd's attention. Liam had managed to arrive on time, seconds before the performance. he claimed to have come across an old friend on the way who was difficult to shake off. but that was all in the past, and he has yet to notice your injured knuckles.

currently, you are performing on the stage in front of a sea of people. with your friend on the acoustic guitar, you both sang a duet that sang of two lovers, a confession of how one felt incomplete without the other.

it was a popular song, so Liam insisted on it. you were glad he did because in the end, the happy crowd's applause rang loud across your ears. a sound you'll always love.

now off the stage, you and Liam decide to explore the festival's offerings. the spring festival at night is beautiful— lanterns clipped across the starry sky and flowers and people littering the area. you approach one of the food stalls that lined the streets, purchasing a sundae of your favourite flavour.

as you are about to pay, you rummage through your pockets and realise... your wallet is gone. did i leave it at home?! Liam seems to pick up on your situation as he pulls out his own wallet, "i'll pay for them." you thank him and promise to pay him back. "it's alright, you don't have to." he smiles.

suddenly, a loud voice approaches the both of you, "Oi, Lili! ya did great up there, man." you turn to see a group of four people heading your way who were all dressed head-to-toe in punk clothing and carrying band equipment. they must be a band. a slim man holding wooden drumsticks pats Liam on the back, and he shortly notices you.

"oh? hello there, mx. the name's Vern." he grins and offers you a handshake, to which you politely return.

"y/n. nice to meet you, Vern. I'm a friend of Liam's."

"a friend of Liam is a friend of mine, y/n!" Vern heartily laughs, "let me introduce you to the gang, y/n— of course, you've met me, the drummer. that lady with red hair is Kyra, the lead guitarist. the young-looking fellow with shit for brains is Astrid, our second guitarist. and finally, our beloved lead singer and bassist, D—"

you don't have time to react before your face is roughly grabbed by a hand larger than your head, cheeks squished. you try to pry your face away from the thick fingers of the unknown man, as you shakily look up at his furrowed eyes. he's seething, and you don't know why.

"it's you. fucking bitch."

you don't know what you've done to this man to warrant such a reaction, you've never even met him before!... right? you think back to earlier in the day when you punched the stranger from the alley. shit, it's him.

though muffled by his palms, you still manage to voice out an apology. for the first time in your life, you feel a sensation rushing through your blood. dread and terror. in the corner of your eyes, you spot Liam being held back by a concerned Vern and Astrid.

you desperately try to pull his hand off your face while repeating apologies, but it's useless. he's too strong. the tall stranger continues to stare at you and you swear he was enjoying this. if not for the sick glint in his eyes or the soft panting from his pierced lips, then maybe for the light blush dusting his cheeks.

after what felt like hours, he finally lets go. you immediately massage your aching jaw and cheeks at his release. the stranger scoffs and hands you a familiar item... it's your wallet! "...found this in the alley. you throw a good punch." you gently take the small pouch off his hands and thank him.

a ghost of a smirk morphs on his face before he grunts and walks past you. the others instantly follow behind him like baby ducks trailing their mother, but not without giving you a sympathetic look. Vern checks up on you before joining his group, "woah, he's never spared anyone before. sorry about him, but i hope you'll still come to watch us?"

Liam, who is no longer held back, runs to your side and inspects your face. "are you alright?? fuck, I should teach him not to mess with you!" he angrily shouts. you're still recovering from shock. but that doesn't stop you from thinking how nice the stranger's smile looked. "do you want to go home? i'll drive you bac—"

with newfound motivation, you're able to speak again, "no, i'm fine. let's go watch the next show!"

you and Liam stand in front of the stage, somehow having managed to get past the current of people. there are way more people than before, and you notice some of them are holding signs. confused, you turn to the person next to you and ask her, "hey, what's with all the people? is a celebrity coming?"

she looks at you astounded, "you seriously don't know? Ares is performing next! they're like, all over social media right now." Ares? you don't think you've heard any singer with that name before. before you can ask who they are, waves of screams fill your ears as 4 pairs of feet walk on stage. you look back at Liam to see him clapping for the band, following his gaze, you accidentally lock eyes with a pair of heterochromatic eyes.

he acknowledges your presence with a lazy lift of his brow and faces the crowd again. this time, the audience shouts in union.

ARES!

ARES!!

ARES!!!

the electrifying sound of a guitar and drums booms through the speakers. the ground vibrates along with the rhythm, as your heartbeat follows along. the song begins, but it's not until you hear the deep bass of the leader's voice do you feel the aching throb of your core.

(R U Mine? - Arctic Monkeys)

I'm a puppet on a string

holy shit.

She's a silver linin', lone ranger ridin' through an open space...

his voice is intoxicating.

In my mind, when she's not right there beside me

I go crazy 'cause here isn't where I wanna be

your heart feels like it's about to burst out of your chest.

And satisfaction feels like a distant memory

And I can't help myself

All I wanna ever say is, "Are you mine?"

yes.

Well, are you mine?

Are you mine?

Are you mine? Oh, ah

i'm yours.

his deep voice that was once laced with anger and malice— now brings your own heart to tears. you could only think about what was going through his mind to sing a beautiful song in such a wrenching manner. and on that day, you swore to one day bring someone to tears with your voice, just like he had with you.

but what you did not know was that you'd already done the exact same thing to Deimos earlier that day. and for that, he'd follow you down every road until there comes a time when your paths meet again.

back in the present, you've been forced invited to watch Deimos' latest concert. like before, you sat at the very front row, right in front of his assigned position. the only difference from then was his lovestruck eyes that would never leave your figure.

in the end, he was yours.

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throneofsapphics · 2 months

Text

finding you again, part one

Azriel x f!Reader

summary: after he ended your relationship, you didn��t expect Azriel to pop into your life again - and you’re not happy about it

warnings: references to utm, war, disease

a/n: sorry for the delay! part two coming in the next few days, if anyone wants to be added to a taglist, you can comment under here or send me an ask/message!

prologue

Shockwaves of magic swept through Prythian and the surrounding islands at once. It felt like the ground beneath your feet shifted. Once, twice, three times - and you heard shouts from around you. You took a brief moment to thank the mother that it wasn’t just in your head.

You picked up the basket, sprinting back towards your home. Herbs flew out of the sides, but you’d go back to collect later. Whatever this was now, it was huge. You felt it in your bones, something in your world was changing, everything seemed to come to a standstill - the rest could wait.

The entire island was tense for the next few days, everyone waiting to see what did happen. Whispered murmurs of the possibilities, of the could-be’s, of the tentative hope blossoming - a hope nobody let show publicly.

Secluded by yourselves, the wards you’d collectively put together at the beginning of Amarantha’s reign, near impenetrable, made news difficult to come by.

Three days later, a tingling sensation on the back of your neck woke you. It was gone by the time you’d rushed into your kitchen, fingers white-knuckled around a dagger.

Two letters. One addressed to the inhabitants of the town, wax sealed with the stamp of the Night Court. Next to it, one with just your name.

Shaking hands, unsteady breaths, you ripped it open, ignoring the sting of a small cut on your index finger.

Your eyes flew over the words. The paper began to fold under your tight grip, edges wrinkling.

Unsteady breaths, a lone tear dripping down your cheek, it took minutes of pacing and intentional breathing to collect yourself.

Bringing it back to your room, you climbed half under your bed, sliding a loose board aside and shoved the letter inside, sliding a box over it. That couldn’t fall into the wrong hands.

Grabbing the other envelope, swinging your door open, a cool spring breeze hitting your face, reddening your cheeks and nose, before heading to share the news.

You ignored the other implication of the situation. The particular scent lingering on the envelope. You hadn’t thought of him in years, and now wasn’t the time to start.

“The High Lord wants to visit,” the older female breathed, eyes wide as she turned her gaze to you, before frowning. “Why would he ask?”

“He could be having difficulty getting through the wards,” her mate said, covering the female’s hand with his own, mouth curving at the corners, a twinkle of pride. Well deserved, he had painstakingly designed them.

“Or he’s sending this as a courtesy, they got the letter to us after all,” she snorted, but returned his smile.

You knew who’d sent the letter. The hint of night chilled mist and cedar so unique you couldn’t have imagined it.

With Madja’s help, you’d gotten permission from Rhysand to leave Velaris sixty years ago, for a while able to visit every few months until…

You subconsciously rubbed the bargain tattoo on your ribcage. Three stars surrounded by a circle, your promise to never reveal the location of Velaris.

Azriel knew his brother needed a distraction, and frankly - he needed to leave the damn city. The once safe haven that had become a necessary prison. He was too self-aware to discount the other reason, the need to lay eyes on you and see that you were safe, at least somewhat.

Rhys shot him a curious look when he volunteered too quickly - when Azriel had raised the idea.

“There’s wards surrounding the island,” he schooled his face neutral - the spymaster, doing his job, “are near impenetrable.” Except perhaps by you or me, he didn’t need to say aloud. Yes, he’d sent shadows to scout the area soon after the curse broke, and they’d brought interesting reports in turn.

Rhys nodded, and Azriel sat across from him as he wrote out two letters, sealing and sliding them across the table.

One was addressed to … you. His blink of surprise gave him away.

“You know her?” Rhys’s eyes glimmered. He’d been discreet with his lovers, and of course he was aware Rhys knew, but just because he’d thought of you didn’t mean he wanted to share with others. But … the amused expression in Rhys’s eyes wavered, revealing some of the strain beneath.

A distraction, that’s what his brother and High Lord needed, and perhaps he could do with a touch of vulnerability.

“We were involved … before she left.”

“I know,” Rhys smirked. For fucks sake. “Why do you think I let her leave and keep knowledge of Velaris? It was obvious she could keep a secret - she never said a word about your … involvement, to anyone else.”

Again, something he knew, but he had the decency to show a touch of surprise.

Azriel raised a brow, a gentle nudge against the shields barricading his mind, and he lowered them slightly.

“You’re willing to make a bargain?” Rhys leaned back in his chair, you seated before him, fidgeting and brimming with energy.

“Yes,” your voice was strong and firm.

“Very well,” his mouth turned up at the corners, a smile designed to put people at ease - it worked on you.

The bargain was fair and concise. You could leave Velaris, and return as you wish as long as you never revealed or hinted to the name, location, or existence of Velaris.

Azriel pushed Rhys out, slamming walls back in place. “Why are you showing me this?”

“You want to investigate the island, don’t you?” He wanted to slap the smirk off the other male's face. “She’s one person you know intimately,” Azriel rolled his eyes, “who lives there.”

“I doubt she would speak to me,” he retorted dryly.

“You’d be surprised what time and distance can do,” he countered. Az shook his head, he wouldn’t let false hope sink in, hope of regaining your … friendship. Maybe seeing you, even if it was just once, would be enough.

A day later, Azriel stood on a cliff, wards pulsing with magic in front of them. Rhys to his left, Mor flanking his other side, they waited for … well, he wasn’t entirely what. For someone who would let them in. Rhys had sent a charmed parchment, designed to deliver their answer immediately, and everything in the letter sounded perfectly enthusiastic.

Magic parted enough to reveal an older female and male - centuries older than themselves given the wrinkles starting to line their faces, appearing as if they were close to fading. Both carried themselves with confidence, but a warm and open demeanor as they bowed deeply.

“Thank you for coming to see us,” the male rasped.

He took brief notes of their names, the introduction, while sending discreet shadows to poke around the rest of the wards and small community. Due diligence and routine instinct now. They eyed him just a touch of caution, but it didn’t phase him, it never had.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said, “we’ve prepared lunch.”

“Not at all,” Rhys smiled, the warmth in his tone almost matching the one he used with the citizen’s of Velaris, still laced with subtle authority.

Less than a quarter of a mile, and they approached a quaint looking town. Stone houses, slightly corroded by salty air, but built sturdily - ready to weather any type of storm. Sure, he’d heard all of this through his shadows but seeing had a different effect. Paved pathways, a few different shops and a tavern.

“Not much of an economy now,” she was telling Mor, “we trade what we can, all help each other out. Kept to ourselves the last few decades.” Kept to ourselves.

‘They locked themselves away,’ Rhys’s voice flooded through his mind. “The community is small enough that Amarantha didn’t bother looking.” But they’d been a vital trading port for the Night Court before. He was surprised she’d ignored it. “I was too,” Rhys said.

Ignored, but she’d considered them anyway. A sickening feeling coiled in his gut. If Amarantha had gotten to you …

“The healer you recommended,” the male spoke to Rhys, pulling him from his mind, ''saved all our lives when a disease swept through, ‘bout thirty years ago. A great female.”

“One of the best healers I know,” Rhys replied. It was the truth. As far as healers went, you were one of the best available. He wondered if you knew the other reason you were sent here; If Hybern were to attack the Night Court, they all suspected this Island would be the first target, and a skilled and trustworthy healer was needed on the ground. On the front lines. That sickening feeling returned, and Azriel knew he needed to set his own eyes, not just shadows, on you before he left.

You couldn’t avoid the lunch, not without raising suspicion. Maybe he wouldn’t be there. He was the spymaster, after all, not usually sent to do courtesy visits. Still, this had been the talk of the town for the last two weeks.

‘The High Lord,’

‘Do you think he’s as handsome as they say?’

‘He isn’t mated or married, is he?’

Mother above. You had to try and match their excitement, to blend in. They couldn’t know you grew up seeing him frequently in Velaris. All they’d known is you apprenticed with one of the Inner Circle’s preferred healers - and even that was a rumor you’d never confirmed or denied.

Hand braced on your doorframe, three conscious breaths, and you pushed it open, forcing your hands to relax at your sides, keeping your strides even and steps paced.

A small crowd had gathered outside of the largest tavern, and you weaved yourself into the fray, balancing on your toes to catch a glimpse through the open doors.

Hazel eyes connected with yours, and your stomach dropped.

Just your luck. You couldn’t bring yourself to break the gaze, the way his eyes searched you, the brief hint of relief in them. Why the hell was he relieved? He’d made it perfectly clear you meant little to him, and now he meant nothing to you.

Slipping backwards, you tore your gaze away and slipped down the street.

“Go ask her some questions,” Rhys had thrown a hint of command into his tone. He wanted Azriel to gain some kind of information from you. It made sense. He wanted, needed, to see you anyway. “I’ll keep everyone distracted.”

Easy enough for him, Azriel took the next chance to melt into the shadows, to follow you. You led him right to a secluded cliff, sitting a few safe paces back, arms wrapped around your knees, squeezing tighter and he approached from the side - in your line of sight.

“What do you need?” He wasn’t surprised by the harshness. Pausing a good few paces to your left, he sat, legs kicked out in front of him, bracing his palms on the cold stone.

“To ask a few questions.”

“Go ahead,” you muttered, still keeping your eyes off him.

“How did you remain hidden all of these years?”

“Magic. Wards. Things Fae more skilled than I created.”

Truth, a shadow sung in his ear.

“Who?”

“You probably already met them,” you groused. He fought back a smirk, he’d forgotten how cute you could be when you were grumpy, and promptly wiped that idea from his mind.

“Tell me anyway.”

You listed the two who’d greeted them. Not surprising. It also told him it wasn’t quite a secret, especially with the brief pride flashed in your eyes.

“Did you have to … give anything to it?”

“Ask them.”

“I’m asking you,” he countered mildly. You wouldn’t get away with evading his questions.

“A bit of blood and a bit of magic.”

He hummed. Rhys would probably ask similar questions, but it was good to hear from another source.

“Why did you need to come here?” Venom filled your tone.

“By our High Lord's request,” Azriel said dryly.

By our High Lord’s request. Of course there was no interest in seeing you. You were merely a bonus, a person he could easily ask questions to. You hated yourself for letting the thought cross your mind.

“I wanted to see you, as well,” you almost missed the softly spoken words.

“What made you think I want to see you?” You shot at him, finally turning to face him.

“I didn’t say that,” a brief flash in his eyes. “I said I wanted to see you.”

“You’ve seen me,” you waved a hand. “Any more questions?” Brief silence. “Good. Leave me the fuck alone.” Forever, the narrowing of your eyes said.

“You should know,” he tilted his head back, this time escaping your gaze. “I didn’t forget about you - I”

“Just stop,” you hissed. “I don’t want to hear it.”

The implication struck you - others had forgotten, and he knew that. Azriel leaned forward, eyes on the ocean, knees raising and forearms bracing on them.

“Amarantha may be gone,” a shiver ran down your spine - at the name, and the low and deadly tone, “but Hybern will still cause issues.” War. “Rhys will give the same warning to your town today. Velaris and here may be the safest places in the Night Court.”

“Is he asking us to open the wards?” Because they’d do it in a heartbeat, and you knew that.

“Perhaps,” Azriel said, and turned back to you, hazel eyes searching for something. “You’d be safe here.”

“If there’s going to be a fucking war, i’ll be there. Healing.”

“I know,” an unrecognizable set of emotions flashed in his eyes. “I’d see you there.”

“I hope not,” you countered, keeping your eyes fixed on the waves, on the white foam topping them. A current so violent only the strongest swimmers braved it. “I might not like you, but I don’t want to see anyone,” you emphasized, “hurt.”

Azriel nodded, and rocked forward, rising to his feet. He offered a hand to you, you ignored it, pushing yourself up and facing the path back to town.

“Stay safe, spymaster,” you looked over your shoulder, “and do it far away from me, won’t you?”

A grin crossed your face at the brief ire reflecting on his and you strode off.

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#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #acotar x reader #acotar fic #azriel x you #azriel acotar

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theplumsoldier · 7 months

Text

taking care

summary: on thursdays you and joel have a drink, but this time poor old joel is in need of a friend and makes a confession, which brings you closer than ever before.

pairing: joel miller x afab!reader

word count: 8,1k

warning: angst, alcohol consumption, talk of sad bad memories ;(joel tells you about everything that went down at the firefly hospital; killing-spree, lying to ellie, etc.), self-l oathing, crying joel, mutual pining, friends to lovers bro, vulgar language, some domestic bliss, friends to lovers trope!!! mdni 18+: mentions of masturbation and fantasizing about friends, oral (female receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, breeding kink, praise kink, pet names. let me know if i missed anything! <3<3

You found it ironic how you had longed for the sun's blazing rays to warm your body all winter when summer had finally reached Jackson and now you were whining and moaning because it felt like you were being fucking boiled alive.

The sweat tickled down your skin, perspiration spread in your hairline, threatening to bunch into droplets and fall from your nose and brow. Joel felt himself tense up at the sight. Dressed in washed denim shorts, a t-shirt, and worn cowboy boots—it was a sight to behold. You looked like an angel to a southern man, and Joel had to clear his throat to make sure his voice wouldn't fail him.

"Still goin' at it? It's Milton's job to take care 'o the horses, y'know."

Chuckling, you shook your head and dusted your shorts as you stood. Running a hand over your horse's mane, you gave Joel a smirk. "You know she don't like nobody but me."

He chuckled. Joel had noticed that the more time you had spent with him, the more his own southern drawl began to echo in your own voice. Not much, not enough for other people to notice, he doubted you yourself even did, but Joel noticed—and every time he got a taste of that sweet honeyed punctuation, his stomach practically somersaulted.

Today, you hadn't been on patrol together, as you had the morning call and he had the evening call. You knew he'd just gotten back. Typically he would shower after duty, but today he hadn't and you knew him well enough to know why.

"Had a rough run?"

Joel huffed in response, forcing himself to pry his eyes off of you for a second. He had never seen you in this little clothes before and was finding it quite difficult not to give you a one-over when you had turned to him completely.

You had tied your flannel around your waist, leaving your arms bare for the sun to tan and it was then he couldn't help himself. Your cleavage was revealed in the little top you wore, droplets of sweat glistening on your skin as they trailed—

Joel cleared his throat once again, "ya up for a nightcap?"

A sly smirk landed on your lips.

Leading your horse May back into the stables, you walked with Joel to his house, to share a drink or two as you did every so often. You sensed a sort of tradition forming, recalling you had done this exact play every Thursday for the past few months. Five out of seven days a week you patrolled together. On Mondays when you were both off duty you played pool. On two out of seven days, you were in no way obliged to see one another and yet, here you were, making it a tradition—ensuring that you would not go as long as 24 hours without keeping each other company.

You wanted to ask about the day he had had but decided against it and settled on asking how Ellie was doing instead. Having come to know Joel quite well, you understood he would rather let work-related matters stay work-related and it seemed fitting to veer your attention at Ellie as you recalled Joel saying she was doing good at school. You should've talked about the weather. The weather was a safe bet.

"S'it turns out she didn't even go—keeps holdin' out on me," Joel worried, clearly contemplating what might be on Ellie's mind.

Some weeks back, Joel had been thrilled to hear that Ellie was doing good in the school in Jackson, but as it turned out, she had lied to him about going. He wasn't sure where she'd run off to, and that bothered him more than the fact that she was keeping things like this from him—how could he keep her safe, if he didn't even know where she was?

It was clear Joel blamed himself for a lot of things, and though you were well aware he didn't always tell you everything just as Ellie didn't tell him everything, you never hesitated to assure him he was doing a good job. You admired the way he cared for her - it was obvious he loved her and she loved him - although you doubted they ever spoke of that. One night Joel had shared with you a portion of what Ellie had been through, and even admitted that there was a time, a brief span where Ellie had gone through hell for him and he didn't even know what she had endured back then—he blamed himself for a lot of things that happened to her, constantly reminding himself that he was not good enough, that he let her down. Joel hated that feeling, that he was failing yet another daughter and he needed to get a whole lot more of his chest, to talk to someone—to you, about what had happened before they returned to Jackson. He just never could, never knew how to begin nor how to explain why he'd done all those atrocities—what else might one call it? It was fucked up, all of it, but the situation had been so very fucked up too and he just needed someone to agree with him on that, he needed you to ensure him he had been right to make the choices that he did.

But Joel had always been good at keeping his feelings bottled up, letting them mix together over the years until an occasion allowed him to relieve some of the stress that concoction produced.

You had confronted him about it once when you had felt a small fraction of his anger—he had admitted and apologized, for it was so very unprompted he realized when he took it out on you, which led to a much more calm and collected conversation where you advised him to relieve himself of all that weight he insisted on carrying like fucking Atlas lifting the universe. While you didn't want to act like you were any better at that yourself - getting help, that is - he agreed you were right. In that moment he understood and doted the fact that you were willing to let your shoulder be one for him to cry upon if need be. Of course, he wasn't going to do that every chance given (patrolling helped a lot with his anger issues, giving him an excuse to commence violence); nevertheless, Joel felt touched to know you would be there for him.

Instead of dumbing his shitload of stress on you, he found himself going out of his way to see you outside of your communal duties, your company somehow helping in other ways. Though Joel never initiated any deep conversations with you, they happened every now and again and those nights, when he'd go to sleep, it felt as if he could rest just a bit easier.

The sun gradually went over the horizon, the blue sky melting into a nuance of lilac, bringing with it the cold and quiet air of night. This was a peace neither of you had experienced in a long time before settling down in Jackson and therefore as sacred and precious as a promise.

You helped yourself to another drink and Joel quietly watched on as you poured the liquid gold. Holding up the bottle you tipped your head to look at him, silently asking if he needed a refill.

Over the years Joel had become a man of few words and meeting you he suspected he had found his match. You only conversed freely around people you liked and enjoyed the company of, not nearly bothered enough to spare even a glare at those who didn’t deserve your time.

You decided to joke to lighten the mood and hoped you weren't overstepping. "Come on, Joel. I know you're older than me but you must've been a teenager at some point."

It made him snort and his brow jumped at the change of topic though he wasn't about to object. You adored it when he looked at you like that; the way he glared when you teased him or made him laugh. "If I was I sure don't remember."

Joel downed the rest of his drink and held out the glass. You leaned forward and poured him a couple of inches and for a second Joel slipped, forgetting his guard and manners as he watched more of your chest expose to him. He wasn't sure when his attraction had begun, but he had noticed that lately he just couldn't seem to oppress it. Joel would waste away at night, fighting the urge to let himself give in to his desires and fantasize about you as he fisted his cock—and he was strong on that part. It was hard (and in more ways than one) but he felt disrespectful even thinking of you like that. He was supposed to be your friend; and what kind of friend would he be if he was ready to betray your trust when he was feeling lonely.

He gulped.

Finally prying his eyes off of you, Joel wet his dry lips and slushed the drink around the cup.

"You're a generous bartender," he remarked sarcastically.

You laughed.

"You've got expressive eyes, you know that?"

He stopped with the rim of the glass at the tip of his lip, pausing, fearing he had been caught. The thump, thump, thump of his heart resonated in his ears.

"'S that so?" he pondered. "What're they tellin' ya?"

Joel hoped you didn't notice the way his breath hitched in his throat when you leaned back in the rocking chair with a smug smirk on your lips.

"That you were a troublemaker," you grinned. "But you never got in trouble 'cause you were so damn charming as a kid. Probably shoplifted gum or some shit."

Joel laughed. You weren't too far off; he did occasionally get into trouble and he did usually get out of it with no problem—his mom had called him the luckiest boy in the world. The memory struck a cynical thought in his mind; he might have been lucky but not enough to miss the end of the world.

Joel decided to entertain your guessing game. "I ain't ever shoplifted. Didn't have the guts for it," he tutted before taking a swig. "'F I had it would've been condoms though."

Your eyes squinted and crinkled as you bit back a cackle. Your head fell back and your chest bubbled with laughter and he knew he shouldn't have made the last comment when he felt his cock strain against the seams of his washed jeans.

"Joel Miller—scared of a lil' thievin'?" you teased, moving your boot from the porch railing to shove at his thigh.

There was that southern accent you had obtained from him again.

He masqueraded his discomfort by shoving back at your foot with a chuckle—he wasn't sure why he kept his hand on your boot though, keeping it in the place you had put it.

"I didn't have sex till I was like 24..." Joel's expression turned sour as he noticed yours did the same and sensed a bitter memory. Then you mused, trying to make light of the bitter picture that flashed in your mind: "Thought it was love. Turns out it was fear."

You shook your head as if to shake the thoughts out. You'd been through a lot since then, toughened up and become brave enough to fight for yourself, but the memory was still clear. You had vowed to never trust another man again which was why it made this blooming attraction to Joel Miller all the more difficult. The last thing you had considered when coming to Jackson was to try and build a life, and yet; here you were, having built a life with friends and found family in a prospering community with a steady ass job and bars and cafés and all that shit as if the world had never ended.

It seemed almost like you had been feigning sadness for your mien changed so abruptly it caught Joel off guard. You said with casual indifference: "How 'bout you? Ever manage to find love in this fucked up world?"

Joel wasn't sure if you were testing him. You had said he had expressive eyes and completely misread his mind—now he wondered if it was on purpose. The way you nudged him with your boot (that he was still holding onto) told him you were very aware of what you did to him.

And you noticed—of course, you noticed the way his eyes would effortlessly glide over your body, down your body whenever you moved an inch. You had noticed his attention before, but not like this. Not when it shamelessly continued when you had caught him and it made you realize you were not making stuff up in your mind.

Joel wanted you, too.

Now you just wanted him to admit it.

"Once or twice," he finally admitted though his answer gave you little to work with.

You supposed it was the question and not the answer that was the problem; there's a fine line between loving another person, caring for another person, liking a person, and enjoying their company. You had once been told that one could determine if they loved someone, romantically, in just a few minutes by looking into the other person's eyes. It made you wonder—how long would it take you? Would you find that you did in fact love Joel Miller after just 3 minutes? Or would you find that there were more cons than pros to your relationship? Perhaps you might hate him, and this attraction was spurred on by a sadistic kind of hatred and a need to put him in a vulnerable position.

No. That seemed unlikely.

When you first met him you thought he was arrogant, manipulative, and cocky.

Now that you had spent so much one-on-one time with him, you had realized he was confident, persuasive, and fearless. He seemed impossibly skeptical because he was cautious, and he appeared bossy but that was just him being self-asserted.

You couldn't possibly blame a man for being confident when the trait suited him so well. Right now, you had just hoped he was confident enough to let you know how he felt.

Suddenly you shivered. The days had become unbearably warm but the nights were equally unrelenting with the cold.

"It's getting cold."

"Y'wanna call it a night?"

"I'd rather go inside," you shrugged blatantly as if it was not a big deal. It was. Despite how long you had known Joel and how often you were in his company, you had never been beyond this porch, never stepped into the humble residence. You pressed, watching him rather intently: "S'that weird?"

Joel's fingers were intertwined in his lap, thumbs picking at each other. There was a blank yet somehow inquisitive look in his brown eyes and you couldn't tell if it was because his mind was going over what you were offering or because the whiskey had caught up to him.

He let go of his lip with a tsk and shook his head. His gaze softened, and a faint but certain smirk tugged the corner of his mouth. "Not at all."

Joel made the move to stand up and your boot found the ground below with a thud. He grasped the two glasses in one hand and the bottle in the other, then pushed the door handle with his elbow.

Inside the walls were painted a deep orange and it reminded you of curry. Though it was not a nice color, it made the room appear warm and cozy with the lights on. There was a green couch which pretty much made up the living area. A bartop separated the kitchen from the dining room and there was a small mess atop the table where you supposed Ellie had been drawing. It was only then you noticed the art decorating the house, Ellie's drawings displayed in beautiful gold frames like in a museum. It made you chuckle.

"Where's Ellie anyway?"

Joel slouched down on the couch, arms spreading around the back and you looked over just in time to catch him parting his legs, thick thighs smothering the couch cushion, looking oh so big and handsome. What a slut, you thought.

You occupied the space left beside him, pulling your legs up under your body, and thanked him as he handed you your glass. In an effort to test the waters, you let your fingers brush over his knuckles as you accepted the drink, watching him closely. He shifted a bit, but in no way trying to distance himself from you. Your knees rested against his thigh and you could've sworn he only moved his leg closer to you.

"She's with that girl Cora."

"Flemmings?"

"Yeah."

Cora Flemmings was a sweet girl, not the type you would have guessed Ellie would want to hang out with, but you guess that's where your relationship with her ended. You had realized she was quite likable early on, witty and smart, too, but that was about it. She didn't allow a lot of people to get close, and you supposed that was fair all things considered—still, you couldn't help but feel you had let her down. It was stupid, really, but being as close a friend to Joel as you were, it felt like you should know her better.

A shared a couple of more drinks, just lounging on the couch, side by side, your shoulder pressed against his. It was not unusual for Joel to be quiet even when you would go on talking about whatever came to mind, but you noticed he was being more unresponsive than normal. You knew him too well to think he was getting drowsy from the mix of the late hour and the whiskey. His mind was on something else, and again you wanted to pry, but you knew better than to do so.

To your surprise, he let you in: "Can I tell you something?"

It was a stark contrast of serious pondering compared to the mindless rambling of life in outer space, going from negative numbers to a hundred in a split second. You were caught off guard, but tilting to look at Joel instead of the ceiling, you nodded softly.

It was difficult not to notice the tension in his body, sitting close to him and all. Feeling his chest rise with labored breaths, watching his jaw clench and loosen up, only to flex again, you realized something far deeper than extraterrestrials was on his mind.

Nothing could have prepared you for the burden he was about to unload. Joel resumed to tell you how when he had first met Ellie, she had been nothing more than precious cargo to the Fireflies, a girl believed to be immune to Cordyceps. It was his mission to get her to Salt Lake City, but when he and Ellie reached St. Mary’s Hospital, he discovered that the doctors would have to perform a brain operation. It would kill her. Everything that had happened up until that point had been for that specific moment. His bottom lip trembled as he told you he didn't even have to think about it before he grabbed the gun and started shooting. "It was easy," he said as tears welled up in his eyes. After spending months protecting and getting to know Ellie, getting to love her like his own daughter—he wasn't about to not rescue her from yet another certain death. He recalled how they'd had a brief moment before it all, where Ellie admitted she wanted to stay with Joel after the procedure. "Used it as an excuse," he cried silently. "She 'ad no idea she wouldn't come out on the other side."

Your heart sank as it all dawned on you. Everyone involved robbed Ellie of any agency at all.

What seemed to be the worst part for Joel, though, was when he lied to her. Saying she asked him point-blank to tell her the truth of what had happened back there. He spoke through gritted teeth, his gravelly voice clawing its way through his heart in his throat: "Then I told her the fattest lie."

You wanted to jump in, reassure him he did what he thought was right and at least gave her a chance of life. But you couldn't. It was too big a mouthful, too tough to swallow it all at once and give him some not-thought-through assurance.

It was a lot to take in.

You had never doubted Joel would do everything in his power to protect the ones he loved, but this—it was all too visual to get behind. Impeding finding a cure, the rampage through the hospital, the lying. It was easy to see Joel hated every part of what he had done, though he did not regret it. It was horrifying to think, but it didn't not sit right with you.

That's what parents were supposed to be, right?

Protectors.

He might have acted out of his own interest; he might have stripped her of what she believed—what she wanted to be her destiny, but he did it out of love.

You couldn't possibly sit here and say you wouldn't have gone full-on Attica to save the ones you loved. You couldn't possibly tell him you would have done the same either. In more than one way, you were much like Joel, only you hadn't had that kind of bond with anyone in a long time, and so it was impossible for you to understand everything Joel had gone through, everything he still went through.

At this point became quiet, his soft sniffles reduced to staggered breaths. His hands shook in his lap as his fingers fidgeted. You reached across and took his hands in yours, the size difference almost comical in your smaller ones.

"I hate that you went through that, Joel," you began, biting your lip as you contemplated your words. "It was... It might not have been a difficult choice then, but it's no doubt difficult to live with."

You hated to think he had done that, but you could see that he, most of all, was disgusted with himself for lying to her. That would have hurt him more than anything else he had done that day, and it was evident he hated himself for that.

You squeezed his hands between your own, prompting him to look at you.

"You did what you thought was right. You did everything in your power to protect her. You can't possibly be wrong for that."

His eyes dropped and his face contorted, beating himself up. Although his head bobbed in a quiet nod, agreeing with you, your words didn't do much to convince him.

You wanted to cry, loathing the thought that you couldn't convince him he was not a bad man, couldn't help him.

A different approach then.

You were aware that Joel possessed an innate distrust in systems: He had shared with you his experiences with the government back in the day, his experience with the Fireflies, his experience with FEDRA. Nobody had ever worked in his favor.

You were so focused on helping him that you didn't even realize you had reached up to cup his cheek. Stray tears bedewed the upper edge of his stubbles, and you caressed the patch mindlessly with your thumb. You had never been this close.

"Hey," you whispered softly, keeping his despondent brown eyes on you. It broke you but you put on a determined face. "It's okay, you're okay, Joel—you're here. Don't beat yourself up about it, it's okay."

He didn't believe that. Joel's mind was in turmoil, his thoughts turning on him, torturing him.

His eyes squinted, forcing a new wave of tears to flow and you shook him, more harshly than you meant to. "Joel, hey—hey! Look at me, look at me, Joel."

He forced himself to snap out of it, a sharp inhale clawed its way down his throat, forcing his lungs to be filled. The scent of you, the scent of a day's work and macadamia shampoo, calming his senses.

It's okay.

You're okay.

You're safe.

Finally, his labored breaths ceased and he managed to stop trembling. Bringing himself to look at you, you didn't miss the way he gulped, his expression turning soft with the remains of deep lines carving his features.

"Good, you're doing good, Joel," you praised, too close, too deep in it not to brush the fallen strings of dark, matted hair out of his face. "Look whose to say these people had any clue what they were doing? Hell, even if they did manage it—say they produced a cure—what then? How'd they distribute it? How'd they manage to cure the last of us while the Cordyceps is still out there, constantly mutating? I—I mean they might be able to save a couple hundred, maybe thousands—but what's the use? People would get infected along the way, people like us, who are safe here in Jackson, we'd go out there again and risk our lives just to get the vaccine—a-and what for? We've already lost this battle. S'it really worth saving what's left?"

As the tension of your rant died down, you suddenly became very conscious of the way you held onto Joel. Your hands had settled on his shoulders for purchase, and the fleeting thought of how fucking broad they were this up close, made shame crawl your skin.

Dropping your hands, you watched him intently, looking for signs of discomfort, hoping you hadn't gone too far.

Though his expression was difficult to read, your gut told you he was grounded again, and you boldly leaped at the opportunity to provide that last bit of assurance.

You wet your lips and sighed.

"I won't act like I know what is right and what is wrong, but I can't blame you for doing what you believed to be the moral choice. You are not the villain."

Watching as he was deep in thought, a pang of guilt struck you. On more than one occasion, had you accused Joel of being prone to overthinking. From experience, you knew that entailed tossing words around to better fit the negative narrative in one's brain, and now you worried you might have said too much to have been any help at all.

Worriedly, you spoke your mind: "I hope I didn't say too much, make matters worse."

Joel didn't look at you just yet, but he instantly shook his head. "No, no," he muttered, collecting his thoughts. Breathing in was easier now, he noted, the pinching strain in his chest changed for something else. A small chuckle escaped him and he cleared his throat and shifted in the couch to cover it up, as if he didn't mean to let it slip. Turning to you, there was a small glint in his eyes. "Thank you. Really, I… You know, wouldn't 'ave vented to you like that if I expected you to keep your mouth shut. Trust me, you didn't make me feel worse, doll."

Doll. It played on a loop in your mind.

Doll, doll, doll.

"S'good," you mumbled, eyes flickering down his chest. "Cause, you know, really ain't what I was goin' for."

Joel's chest rumbled with a chuckle. There it is again, he mused to himself. That little accent he must have rubbed off on you and that thing in his body tickled his insides again. It had been a long time since he had felt this way, but it was unmistakable.

It dawned on you that you must have been looking at him with the sickly adoration of a girl in love, for when the grin faded it was replaced by—confusion, maybe? Curiosity?

"What?" you blurted, mentally deadpanning for albeit short, it was a sweet moment of quietness and you went ahead and made it weird.

Joel then looked puzzled, his head tilting like a bewildered dog asked if it wanted to go for a walk.

Your heart missed a beat at the look in his eye, another when the brown orbs dropped and lingered on your lips. As if the air had been knocked out of you, you suddenly felt breathless, frozen in place as if struck by fear and you wondered how you could be so stupid. What else could it be—not confusion, not curiosity but the need for knowing; if the same thing that was happening to his heart was happening to yours?

"I-I—" you stammered but were quickly cut off as Joel jumped from the couch as if he had realized he was late for something.

"I, uhh," Joel interrupted though he had no better speech prepared than you had. He scratched the underside of his arm, looking both bashful and hot with embarrassment.

The silence resumed and you stood up as well, trying to figure out what the hell to do with your arms so that you wouldn't look so awkward. "Tell you what, you uh—you go clean up and I'll make a little dinner and we'll eat and I'll get outta your hairs, then." The thought of leaving didn't sound as appealing as you thought it would. Making a fool of yourself, just a second ago, ruining whatever that had been, you would have jumped at the opportunity to hide under the covers, but now—you didn't like that idea one bit. You reminded him—but mostly yourself: "We still got an early morning tomorrow."

Joel frowned, shaking his head. "No, yeah, yeah—you're right, sure."

Without another stumbling attempt at conversation, he spun around and disappeared, feet trotting to the sound of his palpitating heartbeat.

Locking himself in the bathroom, Joel immediately started cursing as he scrabbled about, ending up with his palms firmly pressed against the sink.

Finding his reflection in the mirror, he stared into his own eyes for a minute, collecting his crumbling self. "Get it together."

Stripping out of his clothes, Joel turned the faucet on and stepped into the shower, not bothering to wait for the water to get hot. He needed to cool down, anyway.

He couldn't get the moment out of his head and wondered if he had misread the entire thing. Could it be, that he had merely been so entranced by his own emotions, that he resorted to some simple wish-thinking? Perhaps you realized, coming out of the sympathetic spell, that you cared for him no more than a friend.

Joel scrubbed harder down his body, heedless to the itch that burned around his newly acquired wounds and scratches.

He couldn't get the image out of his head: The way you had looked at him as you clutched his face in your hands, comforting him—it wasn't how friends looked at each other, no matter how much they cared for one another. Joel looked for signs of the same display of affection earlier in the night, and he recalled your banter, your boot teasingly pushing at his leg, and the way you watched him over the rim of the glass.

Stepping out of the shower, he had managed to get his spiraling thoughts under control, sweep them under the carpet, if you will. Drying off, Joel was about to leave the bathroom in nothing but a towel, as one often would in their own home, but reminded himself that you were in his kitchen.

Not wanting to make you uncomfortable, he begrudgingly jumped into a fresh set of clothes, sporting a pair of sweatpants and a tee when he reappeared in the living room.

Joel cursed his own stupidity when he saw you standing there, mindlessly swaying your hips to Y Andale playing in the background (you had found his stereo) as you stirred the pot. He should have put on a pair of briefs to hold the hardening outline of his cock in place.

When you turned around to place the pot on a felt coaster on the dining table, you gave a start as you saw Joel just standing there. He looked devilishly good in the plain outfit, hair damp and slicked back.

You offered him a smirk. “Hope you don’t mind—jus’ couldn’t help myself when I noticed the stereo.”

All the reasons as to why Joel couldn't do a thing about his attraction to you, all the strength he had just mustered in the bathroom to hold himself back; it all went down the drain as he became aware of the vividly domestic setting before him.

You had little time to assess the situation as Joel closed the space between you in just four strides. Before you knew it, one large hand cupped your cheek and another pulled you close by the waist. There was a split second of that something again, and then he pressed his lips to yours.

Your eyes fluttered close and you couldn't stop yourself from leaning into his touch (not that you wanted to). His lips felt dangerously soft and puffy, surprisingly warm and inviting as they passionately touched your own. In a delirious moment, the fresh scent of him veiled you like a pleasant comforter after a long day at work, those plush lips wrapping around yours, nibbling, sucking—all too much and not nearly enough at the same time.

Breaking apart for air, you felt light-headed, like the room was spinning and you were hot with fever.

It looked as if the black of his pupils had swallowed up the brown of his irises. You were weak, thinking you were the root of his lust. Joel breathed your name.

"S'this okay?"

Biting your lip, you blushed. Putting it into words somehow made it seem all the more real. Even if it was a dream, you hoped you would never wake up.

You let out a shaky breath, unable to hold back the small chuckle it turned into. "You don't have to ask, Joel."

He chuckled then, too, realizing it was probably a bit too late for that anyway. The way your teeth let your lower lip go only made his cock grow harder. Holding you closer, firmer against him, Joel sucked in a breath. "F'you let me, I don't think I can stop."

You prayed he could feel your heart beating against his chest, the way you could feel his cock poke your lower stomach.

Searching for his eyes, you nudged your nose against his. "I don't think I ever want you to stop."

He didn't waste another second.

Crashing his lips to yours, the kiss was more heated than the first, showing you exactly how much he wanted you. Swiping his tongue against your lip, you let him in without hesitation, tasting him for the very first time. Tongues dancing and teeth clashing, Joel snaked his arms down your body, lifting you from under your thighs with a grunt.

You were so caught up in finding his soft spots, kissing him gingerly on his neck, that you didn't realize where he was carrying you until you were splayed out on his bed, melting into the mattress.

Eagerly reconnecting your lips, you found yourself having completely forgotten about the soup, relishing the feeling of the open-mouthed kisses Joel pressed to your skin.

Moaning as he nibbled the skin below your ear, you pulled his face back up to yours, wanting to prolong the kiss. He gave in to your desires but trailed his lips down your neck as your fingers entangled with his hair and you began writhing beneath him.

Finding that sweet spot he had only gotten to graze before you pulled him away, he brought his lips close to your ears and whispered: "You gonna let me take care o' you now?"

Too lost in the sensation, the feeling of his warm lips brushing your skin, the press of his body weight against yours, you couldn't do anything but moan, whimpering a small “please”. He could do whatever he wanted with you.

Noting the bliss you were caught in, Joel chuckled, but he was determined on an audible confirmation. Grasping you by the jaw, he forced you back down on earth. "Tell me you want me."

Brows furrowed and hips desperately bucking up, you whined and responded, "please, please, Joel—need you."

Joel had to steady himself against you, feeling his muscles weaken at the sweet, sweet sound of your begging.

"S'a good girl," murmured he, letting his hands roam every curve of your body, every hill, and every cleft. Squeezing your hip, you felt the coarse pads of his fingers caress the skin beneath your top. "Take this off f'me, yeah?"

You quickly got rid of it, not particularly eager to move your hands from his body. Joel laced his fingers through yours, pressing your hands at either side of your head as he eagerly kissed you, his warm tongue darting out of its cave to invite you to dance.

His palm kneaded your breast, a low groan escaping him which you swallowed down, moaning when his coarse thumb swiped across your nipple.

"Can I take these off, baby?" he asked lowly, and you whimpered meekly, bucking your hips up in response.

Joel worked your shorts off of you, and it seemed to get ten degrees hotter in the bedroom. He had left your panties on and as he trailed a path of wet kisses down your body, you groaned pathetically.

"Joel, please," you begged, not sure whether you wanted his fingers or his mouth, his tongue or his cock.

"I know, pretty girl, I know," he hummed, but there was little sympathy in his tone. A wanton sound escaped you when one of his fingers expertly nudged your clit, like he already knew your body like the back of his hand. "Look at you, baby, so pretty and ready f'me."

You had never given it much thought, whether Joel was one for pillow talk, but you certainly didn't mind it. You couldn't even be flustered about the mess you must have made in your panties; not when his eyes were enlivened with adoration and words laced with desire, not when his touch felt so enticing.

Joel pushed your panties aside and ran his fingers through your slick, kissing and nibbling at your inner thigh.

Moaning, a chain of pleas left your lips. Another low chuckle escaped him and you barely managed to pout down at him before his tongue darted out, collecting your arousal in a long, painfully slow lick. Eyes fluttering shut, they rolled to the back of your head while your hands clutched the sheets so hard your knuckles turned white.

"Holy—f-fuck!"

His nose, so perfectly shaped rubbed against your clit and his beard tickled your sex, making you squirm.

Joel used his hands to part your legs further, giving them a squeeze to let you know to keep them in place. His fingers spread your sex and groaned when his thumb played with the bundle of nerves.

As his tongue licked up and down your wet pussy, your legs threatened to close in on him and he must have noticed your struggling because he praised you, murmuring you were doing so good for him. You spread your legs as if on command, determined to be worthy of the praise.

While his thumb circled your clit, a finger prodded against your opening, coating it in your arousal as Joel slipped inside and he grunted. "So damn tight for me, baby girl."

So concentrated on holding your legs in place while he worked you closer to the edge, you involuntarily ground down on his hand, adding to the pressure on your clit, and felt his thick finger spread you so deliciously.

He chuckled, "y'want more, huh?" Adding another finger to the mix, he curled two digits against your spongy walls and you cried out. "I know, I know, baby. You're doing so good, pretty girl, clenchin' down real nice—fuck."

Joel allowed you to feel him as he worked his fingers in and out of your sex at a tauntingly slow rhythm, leaving you to feel the stretch when he was knuckles-deep.

"Fas—fuck! Faster Joel," you moaned, panting as you became increasingly impatient to reach the impending orgasm.

Joel watched you intently, jaw slack, and peppered open-mouthed kisses on your thighs. He picked up the pace, grinding his own hips into the mattress.

"Fuck, baby—that's it, keep makin' those pretty lil' noises for me. Doin' so good," he encouraged, feeling his mouth wet with drool.

"Please—want your cock, Joel," you whined needily.

"I know, I know, baby girl," he sympathized, squeezing your thigh as if to comfort you. It only made you shift beneath him, as his fingers seized pumping, curling against your clenching cunt. He lulled, "you can take a third, right?"

Any answer close to making itself audible was interrupted by his tongue lapping at your clit, adding to the euphoric sensation of three fingers prodding your entrance. A moan got stuck in your throat and your head slammed back down on the pillow, crying at the stretch.

Joel must've sensed your orgasm approaching for he increased the steady thrusting, his movements not once stuttering while his tongue persistently flicked your clit. A wave rushed over you as he coerced the orgasm to be ripped from your writhing body with inaudible praises, letting you ride out your frenzy on his now-soaked face.

Bleary-eyed, hands balling up the sheets, you willed yourself the strength to look down at the sight—and by God, it truly was a sight.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, revealing a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lip. Your cheeks flushed red, and you pulled him into your neck to hide your embarrassment, as if he hadn't just eaten you out as if his life depended on it.

Joel held your face, eyes mindlessly scanning over your features. "Don't be shy now, baby, tastes goddamn delicious," he hummed with a satisfied lull to his tone, pressing his lips to yours.

"No one's ever done that," you blurted, not entirely sure why you would even admit that.

A frown settled on his face, something resembling disbelief and amusement, and then a strained touch of lust padded over his expression. He was not hesitant to admit that only turned him on all the more. Joel’s ego even told him you had been waiting, saving yourself just for him.

You reached between you to pull down his sweatpants and Joel was happy to let you help him out of his constraints: He had had to stop grinding into the mattress while going to town for fear that he might cream his pants. That would have been embarrassing, busting like some teenager finally getting some action. Though he was touch starved, he would hate to wait any longer—he needed to finally feel you—finally be a part of you.

You had always imagined Joel would have a big cock, but your fantasy scenarios did him no justice—he was long and thick, heavy as his weeping tip pushed against your entrance, and you realized why he had insisted on stretching you out first.

Your sex lives had never been a topic brought up in conversation prior to today, but you could imagine he knew it had been a long damn time. Feeling his cock prod against your sex, you felt thankful for the forethought.

"Fuck," Joel shuddered, sheathing himself in your cunt. His forehead bumped against yours. "So damn tight f'me, baby girl."

You latched your hands onto his shoulders for support, wincing at every inch he filled you with.

Joel hadn't noticed he had been holding his breath before he bottomed out in you, a ragged groan finally releasing itself from his dry throat. He caught your heavy-lidded eyes with a boyish smirk—he could hardly believe this was happening, after so long. "How ya feelin'?"

You let out a breathy chuckle, overwhelmed by the aphrodisiac that was the mixture of his smell and his touch. "Over the fuckin' moon."

The worry vanished, wiping his face clean to replace it with another expression, a search.

You tucked him closer, grasping his ass to feel him better. "Fuck me now."

Cock twitching, saluting your command, and obeying your wish, he pulled back, thrusting his hips forward in a grinding motion that had you gasping for air, eyes rolling back.

Joel pressed sultry kisses to your neck, to your cheek, and to the corner of your mouth. Cupping your face in one palm and holding himself up by his elbow, he forced you to come back to him. "Eyes on me, pretty girl."

There's a spot inside you, one you can't recall ever reaching, but when Joel does you're sure your fingernails dig little crescents into his skin. White hot blurs your vision, a string of wanton moans and curses leaving your lips, panting. "Holy shit."

Your hands roam over the expanse of his chest as his thrusts become harder, more relentless. The sun-kissed skin warms your palms and your foreheads brush, breaths shared.

"Fuck, it's like y'were made for me," he sighed, brows creased in concentration and eyes fixated on where his cock disappeared inside your cunt. The sounds of skin slapping were so fucking vulgar and he's right, you thought, and he was made for you, too.

His rhythm was designed to make you see stars. The coil in your stomach tightened and he must have felt you squeezing around him, for the motions only became harsher, his hips crashing into yours in precise strokes.

Joel's head drooped, nose brushing your temple as he shook his head. "M'not gonna last much longer," he confessed lowly.

Dexterous fingers snaked between your sweat-licked bodies and he rubbed your clit, desperate to feel you come around his cock.

Gasping, holding onto his shoulders as he rocked your body back and forth, you forced his eyes to lock with yours. "Come inside me, Joel," you begged fervently, and you knew it was risky, very fucking risky, in fact, but you couldn't care less—you wanted to feel all of him.

The didn't deter him one bit, however, if anything it spurred him on, the jolts of his hips becoming animalistic. He found purchase on your shoulders, holding you in place so that he could better fuck up into you. His hips began stuttering, sinful groans falling from his dirty mouth. "You want me t'fill you up, yeah? Want everyone to know who you belong to? That's it, baby, come around my cock 'n I'll fill you up real good."

Losing yourself to the mind-wrangling orgasm, your legs spasmed and you cried his name, repeating it like a prayer while he fucked you through yours, chasing his own.

With one, two, three thrusts, he spilled inside you, burying his cock deep in your cunt as his purchase buckled under his weight. You didn't care that he collapsed on you—you had never felt better, never felt more full.

Coming down from your highs, you held him close even when he slumped down against your side, his softening cock slipping out of your sex.

For a few moments, you just lay there, regaining your breath, feeling the reality of it all wash back over you. It felt silly having to summon the courage to face him again, but you couldn't help the blush that colored your cheeks.

Joel spoke first. "Can't believe it took us so damn long," he mused, somewhat dumbfounded with a grimace of disbelief. You melted when his strong arm cradled you closer to his chest.

You nuzzled your face into his neck, sighing quietly along to the rise and fall of his breathing. Yawning, you drowsily mumbled, "I don't ever wanna leave your side, Joel."

Joel pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, holding you close as he felt sleep closing in on him. "You won't, sweetheart. I won't let you." Your heart was racing but sleep managed to pull you under its grasp. Joel relished the languid hum you offered in response, and he brushed the hair from your face, kissing you one last time. He could barely wait to wake up with you in the morning. "Sweet dreams, pretty girl."

#theplumsoldier #joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel tlou #joel the last of us

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hwallazia · 21 days

Text

SOOTHE ME, SUGAR

pairing: choi san x fem!reader

word count: 1,5k

tags: fluff, fluff, and fluff (you’ve been warned), comfort, slice of life, bf!san, non idol!au, blood (since we're talking abt menstruation), nicknames (princess, love, sannie, darling, sweetheart), very relatable (ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ) so, enjoy

taglist: @bro-atz | comment your username if you wanna be added to my permanent taglist! ♡

synopsis: just a small scenario of how I imagine San pampering his girlfriend when it’s that time of the month for her.

| a/n: lowercase is intentional! (wrote it at 1:00am, half asleep (⁠｡⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠))

| song rec: ocean eyes — billie eilish, love songs — kaash paige, sparks — coldplay

“sannieee”

you moaned from your bed, wrapped in the sheets like a burrito, your knees knocking against your chest in search of some kind of relief. your belly generated pressure throughout your lower area that became more unbearable as the minutes passed, which seemed to be hours. fortunately, san knows how to act in the most docile way in these cases.

as soon as you finished college, you and san decided to live together without having the slightest idea of how challenging, exciting, and companionable that process would be. both of you, although you were in a relationship before living together, had to know, respect, and get used to each other’s home habits, since it would be something you would live with for a long time.

it was somewhat difficult to understand san’s attitudes, which varied depending on his momentary needs, how tired he was, and other factors that affected his behavior in the apartment. but with a lot of patience and love, you managed to understand at least the basics of what you should know about the topic: “choi san and home.” the path you had to take to know the person “choi san” in its entirety was a long one and one that you were willing to walk until the end of your days if necessary.

there was no shortage of discussions; there were many that were needed to be able to understand aspects of both him and you. when faced with an argument, san, first of all, would dedicate himself to listening to what you have to say, he would pay all of his attention to listening to your sentimental and very expressive arguments. once you’re done, he’d continue saying his and finally give a solution to the problem that divides you and wait for your excellent approval.

despite being very understanding and collected in discussions, san hates them with all his being; although he’s a tall man with a strong body, his heart is still soft and as delicate as glass. he hates that a simple disagreement of opinions causes a division with you, the person he loves the most, respects, and for whom he would give his life.

but he knows how to suppress his discontent very well in the face of absurd discussions for which you don’t speak to each other for hours, and even absurder when it’s that time of the month for you. he knows how much your feelings are weakened, how sore you feel throughout that week, in which your need for attention and affection doubles up.

san remembers with affection and laughs that month in which he found you crying in your bed, wrapped in his blankets scented with his essence, because the stuffed animal that you had given him, shiber, had fallen off the bed and, he quotes, “he looked at me very sadly from the ground” and he felt his heart skip a few beats inside his ribcage when a pout formed on your lips at how funny he found the situation. you never seemed so cute to him as you did at that moment.

and the moment san hears your voice whine his name from his room, the mental image was projected in his head without him asking for it or thinking deeply: “you, covered in dark blankets up to your nose with an exaggerated amount of pillows giving you comfort staring at him with pleading eyes as soon as he entered the room.” he couldn’t help but smile fondly.

“coming, love” he says, a few steps away from the room. thanks to his long legs, with four steps he gets there immediately, gently and respectfully hitting his knuckles against the dark oak door. the muffled ‘come innn’ you say with little strength was the permission he needed to turn the handle.

a sweet hum coming from san echoes through the room as he finds you under the exact same conditions that his mind, infected with you, had outlined. he doesn’t wait for you to say another word and he sits on the edge of the bed, watching you with so much love that he could never express verbally.

“how are you feeling?” he simply asks, without being so insistent or trying to bombard you with questions, thus avoiding causing you any annoyance. you have enough of what you were dealing with now.

“awful. the pressure down there has become unbearable, and now i don’t feel my legs.” you stopped for a moment to analyze your reality and the poor physical condition you were in. “i feel dizzy, kind of hungry and numb. but not like emotionally numb, because i wanna cry so badly but i can’t get anything out of my eyes.”

your hands go up to your eyes, under the sheets, covering them in frustration. “fuck, i hate this so much.”

san finally starts talking, soothing you with his honey-dripping voice. “shh, princess. one breath at a time. come on” he brings his palms, which were facing the ceiling, and rests them on your stomach, implicitly indicating that you hold his hands.

breath in and out, in and out. you stay like that for about thirty seconds, maintaining eye contact, his eyes conveying nothing but love and comfort to you. “thaat’s it. perfect.” he praises you, givinf you the purest smile known to men, which does nothing but wrinkle your heart a little with tenderness.

“do you still have enough sanitary napkins and tampons?”

you appreciate and appreciated, from the first beginning, in which san became excellently familiar with all the technical vocabulary characteristic of this week that was so painful for both you and san. “no, but-”

he interrupts you and asks again “you want me to go get you some more in the supermarket? maybe some chocolate as well?” it seemed so sweet to you how generous and helpful he was to you when this time of the month came around.

“not really.” you pause briefly, squinting your eyes in search of the perfect plan that would calm, at least for a few hours, your impressive menstrual pain. until the right idea hits your head. “honestly, i just wanna cuddle here, with you.”

another sugary hum is audible. “if that’s what my princess wants, then that’s what she gets.” he sentences as if he was a soldier of a castle in which you are the queen of the “choi san’s heart” kingdom and san is nothing more than your faithful and most beloved servant. he leans towards you to place a fond kiss on your warm forehead, saturated with pain.

you shift in place, moving to the right so that san joins you from the left. ss soon as both of you are already warmly covered by the sheets, smeared with the smell of floral essences, your hand is quick to locate the remote control, pointing it in front of you to turn on the television and immediately go to the netflix app.

while your fingers insistently press the control buttons in search of a movie that meets the common cinematographic interests of both of you, san’s hand is agile in sneaking into your shirt —well, san’s— and cupping your waist in his palm, his fingers tracing scribbles on your skin, calming the pain, the tension and your mind. the magic that san has between his fingers and how they affect you is a divine mystery that would require his own science and study method.

“sannie” you pronounce his name in his faint whisper, disconnecting your eyes from the big screen to focus on the perfect face of your perfect boyfriend, totally forgeting the movie and focusing in your boyfriend’s ethereal details.

“yes, darling?” he drones, looking at you adoringly. he truly couldn’t believe how you, an angel fallen from heaven, could be his and only his. and that you decide to stay by his side until the end of your days was the most genuine and beautiful demonstration that any lover has ever given him. definitely, you are different and san would risk it all for you. of course he would.

“thanks for everything. for understanding me and being able to be that mountain on which i can rest when i’m exhausted.” you say, truly meaning every single one of your words. “thank you for being you and for choosing me.”

san’s heart is reciting all the existing love songs to yours. his heart is yours and yours alone, giving itself fully to your love, and yours is the sun that warms his soul, casting golden rays of affection that dance across the canvas of his heart, painting it in hues of devotion.

“no, princess, you have nothing to thank me for.” he stops for a moment. “i’m the one who should thank you; for allowing me to be your boyfriend and please you, for being so patient with me. i know that i’m not an easy person to understand, and the fact that you voluntarily decide to stay here with me only makes me fall in love with you even more; even when i think i can’t love you more than i already do.” san confesses and, in just a matter of seconds, he manages to observe in close-up how in your precious irises tears start to well up in your eyes, causing him to let out a soft giggle, finding it cute. “why are you crying, sweetheart?”

you sniffed. “because you’re just too sweet to me and it makes me emotional. you really are the best boyfriend in the world, choi san.”

“oh baby.” he hugged your anatomy between his strong arms as he laughed softly, giving you a warmth and security unique in the world. “i love you, yn. “so much.”

| masterlist

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #choi san fluff #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #san x reader #choi san #san fluff #choi san x reader #san imagines #san fanfic #hwallazia

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thefunkfactory · 30 days

Text

Stinkbomb

You were so excited to go and see your boyfriend at his place later today! The two of you had been so busy recently and your work schedules just refused to line up, so it was the first time in a week and a half that you were going to see him. You spent your entire day off getting ready to see him for dinner, you went out and got flowers, bought some dessert to take over, spent an hour and a half getting ready, and you were finally on your way over. As you got on the train to go over to see him you noticed this guy staring at you from a few paces away. He was dressed like he had just gotten out of the gym, and the slight acrid smell coming from his beat up white sneakers and sweaty graphic tee confirmed that he did.

As you pulled out your phone and texted your boyfriend that you should be there in about twenty minutes you could feel the sweaty gym bro staring at you. You looked up and he winked at you, you quickly looked back at your phone ignoring his flirtatious mannerisms. As the train approached your station you gathered your things, put your phone in your back pocket and stood up, the gym bro was doing the same. Departing from the train the two of you were just a few feet from each other you realized that the slight acrid smell wafting off of him when he was a few feet away was in reality a strong cloud of BO as you got closer to him. Ignoring the stench you continued to the turnstile and then up onto the street and started to make your way in the direction of your boyfriend's apartment. You could barely contain your excitement as you joyfully stode down the street with your headphones on listening to your playlist, you felt your phone get lifted out of your back pocket. You swiftly turned around thinking you were getting robbed just to be face to face with the gym bro from the train. Utterly shocked and a decent bit afraid you quickly took your headphones off and, with heavy annoyance in your voice, asked “Dude what are you doing!? Give me that back!”. All the gym bro did was smirk and put the phone in his own pocket, he then opened his mouth, “I’ll give you it back if you come back to my place pipsqueak.”. As he said what felt like a cloud of bad breath flowed out of his mouth and into your face, as the stench went up your nose the idea of going back to his place didn’t seem that horrible. You found yourself about to agree when you realized that that was insane, no way were you going back to this stranger's place! “No way! I'm not gonna go back to some reeking douchebag’s place! Especially when you have breath that could knock someone out!”, he looked a little annoyed that you refused but he just shrugged a little and took the phone out of his pocket and lifted it above his head, “Fine, I’ll give you back your phone but you gotta get it from me.”. He stood at least half a foot taller than you and with his muscular arm stretched up high you knew you were gonna have to jump for it. “You’re an asshole.” you proclaimed loudly on the empty street, as you were about to try and jump for it, thats when the smell hit you. His outstretched arm allowed for his thick armpit hair to reach out from the sleeve of his graphic tee, not only did the hair come out but so did the absolutely stupefying body odor the gym bro was putting on display. You instinctively covered your nose and the gym bro smirked, “Heheheh” he chuckled “You want to come home with me?” he questioned but it felt and sounded more like a demand than anything else. As you were about to say for the second time that he should get lost it felt like your brain was getting fuzzy, all that escaped your mouth was a soft, light moan instead of the torrent of disparaging words that would have normally come to mind. “Is that a yes?” the gym bro said knowing full well that with every breath of his rancid armpits taken in, your ability to answer became more and more difficult. You tried to stop it but something in your brain told you “Nod”, so you did, you weakly nodded yes to the stranger. “That’s what I thought” he uttered just loud enough for you to hear, allowing more of his bad breath to escape his mouth. He put your phone back into his pocket and draped his arm around your shoulders, letting a bit of his pit hair tickle the nape of your neck, beginning down the street in the direction you had come back to his place.

———————————————————————————

As he held the door to his apartment building open for you, you mindlessly drifted inside weakly saying thank you. Inside the cheap, dingy elevator up to his apartment you couldn’t help but breathe in the utter stench that was escaping from his entire body. His presence alone in an enclosed space was enough for him to hotbox it with his natural odor. As the elevator slowly crept up to the fifth floor apartment you were looking directly at him as he did the same to you, you had the faintest whisper in the back of your mind that this isn't your boyfriend, you don’t know this guy, someone is very very wrong. Then as the whisper grew a little bit louder the elevator dinged and you both stepped out into the hall and began the short walk to his door. He unlocked the door and opened it going in first and playfully pulling you in by the wrist. As the door opened the first thing you saw was a cramped living space filled with used socks draped over furniture, empty pizza boxes, cans of beer and soda empty and half drank, and a collection of shoes all dirty and strewn about in a huge pile. “Welcome to my place bro!” he said almost proudly as if this space was something to be proud of, if you were in your right mind you would laugh in his face but right now you just stood there with a blank expression. He pulled you over to his couch and sat you down saying “Wait here a second bro, I gotta get some shit off my bed”, and then he disappeared into the other room. Sitting on the couch covered in dirty gym clothes, the whisper in the back of your head grew louder and louder as you had been given a second to breathe air that wasn’t straight out of the gym bro’s armpit. You gained just enough willpower to slowly look around and take in your surroundings, you could hear him tossing things around in his bedroom, there was not a single open window, the kitchen a complete mess, and the smell was just awful, not as bad as his pits for the clothes strewn about have aired out a bit but still it can probably barely be considered oxygen. As you truly began to realize the situation at hand you slowly got up from the couch trying not to make any noise, luckily you could still hear him being preoccupied trying to make his bedroom “nice” for you. As you approached the door, you heard what sounded like him finishing the impromptu “spring cleaning” and turned a little toward his room, in an absent minded attempt to quickly seize your escape you tried to bolt for the door. Within three steps you inevitably tripped on something in the cluttered apartment, falling face first into the pile of shoes near the door. In a state of fear and shock you gasped in after the fall, stench quickly filled your nose going straight to your brain reverting you back into the submissive state you were previously in. You lay there, breathing in the cheesy foot stench, without any ability to try and escape as he opens the door and finds you face first in his disgusting shoes, “Why do they always try and run, it never works?” he proclaims to himself. He picks you up over his shoulder and carries you into his room, sets you down on the bed and tells you “I'm so excited to have a new gym partner dude you are gonna be perfect!”.

Stripping of the sweat stained tee he has been wearing he releases a cloud of pure unadulterated bro-stench into the air. He takes a long deep sniff of his armpits, “Good thing I worked up a good stink today bro! I don’t know if I could’ve fogged up your brain if I wasn’t just at the gym!” He scoots you up so that you are sitting on his mattress but your back is touching the wall, grabs you by the back of the head and shoves you deep into his hairy armpit. The stench rushes straight into your brain overloading it with his funk, you feel your body start to spasm.

You feel your feet start to cramp up as they grow bigger and bigger from a size 8 to a size 15. The massive feet you now have sprout a forest of hair as the Converse you are wearing slowly start to stretch and rip. As they fully rip apart and fall of your feet a billowing stench is released, adding to the stench in your apartment. You feel your legs start to tighten up and change, growing from small toothpicks that couldn’t hold up a marshmallow to sturdy tree trunks able to keep a redwood standing. Your crotch and ass begin their transformation, your wimpy 3 inch dick that forced your boyfriend to be the top starts to ache, you brainlessly begin to paw at it as it becomes a behemoth standing at 10 inches full mast. Your ass is next turning from a cute, perky, bum into two smooth globes of pure fat and muscle. The gym bro has to readjust to accommodate the two new cushions you have grown, too bad they won't ever be used for anything other than shitting, while as your ass inflates into every top's wet dream your hole begins to close up to the point that looks like it has never been used. The straight boy ass you now possess really starts to itch, with one hand preoccupied with your dick your other hand finds its way into your pants to scratch the itch. As dainty fingers begin to start scratching you are met with so much hair coating the two previously smooth soccer balls. As your ass itch dies down you feel a rumbling in your stomach, a sudden sensation of pain overcomes you as your gym bros pit stench reaches deeper into your brain. You wince as you are overwhelmed with the sudden pain, you go to grab your stomach and you are met with a set of abs that you can feel hardening into something akin to stone. As the abs begin to finish their conversation from soft tummy to a rock hard six-pack you suddenly feel it come over you… “Dudeee…” you moan out as a cloud of gas rushes out of your ass PPFFFFFBBBBBTTTTTT “AW BRO THAT’S NASTY!” the gym bro proclaimed while still holding you in his pit. Next to change was the puny chest that you currently had, as if it was being inflated like a balloon your pecs became perky and bounceable. Your shoulders broadened and grew into huge muscular shelves holding the weak arms you had that were about to change. You could feel the spasms lower into your arms and hands, your arms became huge, able to crush someone's head between your upper arm and forearm, and your hands became massive paws capable of easily picking up a soccer ball with one hand. You can feel the thick, coarse forest of hair filling in your armpits. The funk they begin to release makes the gym bro guffaw, “These are gonna be great for turning some pansy into one of us later huhuhu.”. The last change happens to your face, your neck becomes huge and thick supporting the pinnacle of masculinity which sits above it. Your jawline becomes square and fills in with dark coarse hair, your lips become big and plump perfect for blow jobs but that option is soon to be erased, your nose flattens and nostrils expand perfect for taking in more stank from your gym bro’s unwashed pits. Your eyes get smaller and the color of your eyes shifts from a beautiful amber to a deep dark brown, your eyebrows fill in and become thick caterpillars that are perfect for keeping all of the sweat produced at the gym out of your eyes. And finally your hair turns from a perfectly preened mass of curly hair into barely kempt straight hair that would make the old you chuckle if you saw it on the street. You can feel yourself get pulled out of the gym bro’s stink prison, “How ya feelin bro?” he asks, “Uggghhhh where am I?” you look around and smell something even worse than the gym bro’s armpit and you sniff around. You lift your own arm and sniff the new mass of hair in your pit, “Ewwwww I smell disgusting I need a showerrrrrrr…” you say still a little dazed. You hear the gym bro announce “You’re not done I guess.” And you feel his hand grab your head and shove you back into his armpit.

The stench once again fills your brain, resuming where it left off and begins to whittle away at your mind. Starting with your intellect the wall of stink begins turning knowledge of math, history and science into knowledge of protein shakes, gym routines and fitness influencers. Years of studying art history has turned within a matter of seconds into thoughts about how inferior guys who wear deodorant are. Next to go are your memories, memories of your boyfriend disappear into the all consuming funk in your brain and are turned into memories of all your bro’s from high school and the gym that always stink to high heaven just like you. Memories and aspirations of school and wanting to be an art historian turn into thoughts and impulses about boobs and turning women into bimbos. Nothing about your old gay self is left, all that remains is a straight douchebag with terrible personal hygiene. You are again pulled out of his armpit, “Huhuhuhu dude we reek!” you dumbly point out, “Brooo we always stink!” the gym bro responds. “Uhhhhhh brooooo I can't think straightttt huhuhuh uhhh do you remember my nameeee?”, “You are so dumbbbbbb! You seriously don’t remember your name Miguel? Do you remember mine?” questions the gym bro. “Uhhh yea its uhhhh…it’s…huhuhuh it’s Stinkbomb!” you say jokingly. Stinkbomb chuckles knowing that you are completely gone, the old you will never return, Miguel the stinky straight gym bro is all that remains of the little gay twink that was laying in the bed earlier.

#musk #armpits #farts #gay to straight #jock tf #stink #TTF

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fullsunised · 7 months

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i can imagine mark being so clingy and cute and loving to give kisses, could you make an imagine or scenario like that?

𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗕𝗨𝗥𝗡! : 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗟𝗘𝗘!

mark lee being a clingy menace.

genre: fluff

trigger warnings: swearing.

a/n: bro I promise I'll do all the requests, all by time. but anyways, YOUR GIRL IS BACK. also thank you for thr request. hope this is what you wanted.

it's always a long week.

like the longest one ever in mark's life (except he says that every week, because he's away from you). he's not even exaggerating when he texts you day after day, week by week, how much he misses your touch, your voice and just you. oh, how much he misses his you. but of course, both of you had to be busy all the fucking time, doing your own bloody thing.

you were around the world on tours, schedules, and everything else, while he's running around in his own life, practising, rapping, performing- it was bare difficult for you two to even call each other during lunches or dinners. mark longed for you, more than he had ever before (again he says that every week).

even though, you were the partner that leaned towards PDA, in private mark was truly wild. he never came home with the intention to let you go, even for a second from his arms. his routine was to drop his bag in your bedroom, take a refreshing shower and snuggle up against your cozy self, bombarding you with kisses.

he truly has to- it's not even a need, it's a must, he truly fucking has to make up for all the time he had missed with you. he's snuggling up against you, his arms always secured around your waist, no matter what you do. showering? boy is there inside, rubbing your back and that. cooking? he's backhugging you, planting kisses to your shoulder. making music? he's humming lyrics, tunes and everything else. live? he's there with you, holding your hand from behind the camera.

boy just loves adoring and kissing all of you. like every. single. part. of. you. he's gonna pull you onto his lap, kissing your eyes, nose, cheeks, chin, forehead, bro every single body part you have. he has to show appreciation. you're an angel in his eyes.

even if you're on a dinner with his team mates, your friends- whoever the fuck it is, that doesn't matter to him, he still has an arm on your thigh from under the table. and when you're alone, for period longer than an hour- he's a menace. no one would expect mark to be this clingy- he's someone whose always avoiding his members affection after all.

oh, and on the days he's tired. he's a fucking adorable piece of shit. he wouldn't even hesitate to pout, puckering his lips asking you for a kiss. finding him adorable you'd give him one, but you'd be tripping to think man is gonna stop with one. he's following you around, asking for kisses like it's his last day on earth.

tucking on your arm if you don't pay attention to him- in conclusion, he's a leng man with clinging issues (which is adorable btw).

©️ FULLSUNISED.

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sanjisblackasswife · 1 year

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Working on all my November /October drafts before tumblr deletes em🤦🏽‍♀️ enjoy baby💓 i also added luffy because edging him would be so fun :)

Edging Monster Trio + Kidd (NSFW)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

Cw: …sex bro its sex

Zoro

2nd biggest brat of the four.

Zoro is a naturally easily flustered boy. Just a single compliment from you and he’s already red in the face.

But poor baby he tries so hard to mask it. It’s almost like he turns into a literal brat when you edge him on.

“Why—why do you want to hear me beg, are you some kinda sadist?”

“Lil bit.”

“WHAT—“

Edging Zoro is a treat because he would rather bite his lip until he bleeds before blessing your ears with his whimpers and begging

But you knew Zoro would be difficult so you made a bet. And in this bet he loss and that’s how he got here:

Strapped on your chair, naked, with you riding his thigh with a vibrator in your hand.

“What the—hell is your problem!”

You could hear the strain in his voice. Zoro’s chest and face are so red, but not as red as his cock right now. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, he was looking at the wall and everything else, but you, and it made you upset, he couldn’t seem to want to look at you, being a little brat he was you grabbed his wet cheeks, mushing it together a little, forcing him to look at you.

“Hey…”You nod at him a little, he begins to huff and breathe through his nose, chest rising and lowering quickly almost as if he were struggling to catch his breathe, you smile, “focus on me…”

Nothing could compare to the shock shown in Zoro's eyes, it brought a chill down his spine to see you turn your demeanor in such a 180, and yet...he couldn't be more turned on.

"Ple-"

Your eyebrows rise, it's been 15 minutes of consistent moving the vibrator on his cock and pulling it away, yes Zoro can have amazing self discipline, but you knew just how to push the envelope.

"Say it.."

"Fuck.." Zoro puffed out, head tried hanging low, but you picked it back up with one hand , while pressing the toy back on his leaking tip, precum now falling over the head of the vibrator. "...please..please let me fucking cum."

You almost felt bad for being so mean, you knew from his blushed chest and face, the way his thigh twitched under you cunt, and how a moan slipped through his teeth he was at his limit, but if he wasn't such a stubborn little asshole maybe he would have came sooner.

Luckily, you're not too mean and you let him do just that making a sticky mess on not only his abs but your hand as well.

Kid

Biggest brat.

Most annoying brat

First off good luck trynna convince him and good luck trynna get him to beg

"Fuck you and that idea."

Edging Kid just...won't happen... not unless you are on top...possibly.

"Keep--fucking going dammit!"

"No."

You have spent 30 minutes trying to break this asshole and he finally started to whine just a little when you started to grind yourself on his cock just how he likes before cumming and stopped. Now, it's time to edge him.

"I'll never fucking beg for you."

"Then I guess you'll never fucking cum now will you.."

Kid is usually the type to call your bluff, he has done it plenty times in the past, but tonight you were tired. You were tired of his bullshit and trying to tell you what to do and that glint in your eye showed him you weren't playing around with him anymore.

Pressing your body against his your lips latched to his weak spot as you lazily humped his dick, damn your ass felt good slapping against his thigh he couldn't keep himself from biting his wet lips.

"Sssssshittt!" Kid got choked up, his lips began to part, eye furrowed focusing on cumming since he was so so close as you nibbled and licked on his neck, but alas, you knew his body like the back of your head so you move away, causing him to curse again.

"Say. Please."

"Fuck. You."

His voice was quivering when he said thta, you sigh, sure you were close to an orgasm as well, but you set your pleasure aside to show him you meant what you said.

And that's exactly why after 2 more times of stopping him from realsing inside you he broke, "Ple...please...make me cum..."

Sanji

Swears he hates it but he just cant get enough.

"Aah! W-wait wait wait wait wait! Sssssshhiit Y/N babe!-"

Fuck his moans were some of the sluttiest things you could hear from a man like him, he whines so much you almost wanted to give in and slide yourself on top of him, his voice alone made you so wet all by itself you kept rubbing your thighs, clenching over nothing when you heard him cry out beside you

"You're not ganna give up so easily are you? My pretty boy isn't THAT weak to temptation is he?..you already failed earlier, here's your second chance to show me you can handle this.."

His fingers were nearly ripping through your sheets, looking down to see you slowly push his black shirt higher over his chest, his underwear to his ankles and your pretty small hands around his throbbing cock, it was a sight to see as he laid uncomfortably still watching you pump so vigorously, just to stop all together.

Your breast now stained from prior, he came way too fast and way too easily when you rubbed his slit with your thumb.

"Y/N...baby...I--ah!"

Yes, you want to hear him beg, but it was more fun hearing him whimper, your hand was gliding against his wet shaft, using his cum as lube as you suckled his nipple, it was all too much for Sanji to take and feeling you stop him from cumming again, he started to get choked up, tears falling from his eyes

"Please!" He coughed, "pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease, let me cum for you please!"

Ugh. You really had a soft spot for this pervert. His cheeks were so wet and pink you kiss his lips passionately as if your were apologizing for being so mean.

Not parting your lips from him you flew your leg over him, pulling away slowly to let him watch you sink down on his cock, sharing such a slutty moan together, "Yes! Yes thank you, baby thank you I love youiloveyou i love--aahhh mmmmfuck!"

You let him thrust himself up into you, holding on to his shoulders as his tear stained face was mushed against your soon to be sucked on breast, still moaning into your skin about how good you feel and how much he loves you.

Luffy

Has no patience for it HOWEVER he enjoys it???

As you pop off from sucking his cock his body jerks up, a broken moan turns into laughter from him and it oddly enough turns you on.

"C-common! ahaha! Keep suckinggggg!"

"Say please first!" You both share a giggle, this was supposed to be where he begs and cries for more, but instead he's making it fun for the both of you.

"M' not saying please.." He then crossed his arms and pouted, but his little childish attitude was cut short when you spit on his pretty brown tip and swirled your hand on it, it was almost as if his eyes started to twinkle as his cheeks blushed stubly, "Y/Nnnnnnnnnn...ah.."

Luffy's moans got very scratchy and whiney when it came him him close to cumming, he began to raise his hips and grind them against your hand to push you to--

"Put your mouth back on itttttttt commonnnnn! I put my mouth on you!"

"Lufffyyyyy.." Your voice sounded playful as you moved his hips back down, "Say please first."

"Uh uh." He shook his head, "Suck it first."

"Then no."

You knew how to get him to do what you want, granted you didn't want to take such drastic measures but you were sick of him being a little impatient baby so with your opposite hand you pull his chin in for a kiss, it was soft and sweet, until Luffy grabbed your head to lower it back on his dick, "Stop itt!!!"

"Suck it--ah! Fuck!"

You cupped his balls, massaging them, immediately noticing his eye shut tightly gripping the covers beside him on your bed, he broke out into a soft moan, he hated when you touched his so so so sensitive--

"Stop touching down there...PLEASE JUST SUCK--op." Luffy quickly covered his mouth realizing what he said and it made you smile a little. "No! No! I didn't say please!"

"yes you did.."

"NU UH I--OH!"

You just shut your pretty flustered captain up by moving your head back down to take all of his cock back in your mouth.

"M-maybe I did saaaay it." Luffy voice kept stuttering watching you wink at him bopping your head up and down.

Dammit he was so cute like this.

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sluggmuffin · 9 months

Note

Now I’m IN NOW WAY complaining about the angst BUT if you WANT to write another one, I won’t complain 😊

I love you 😊😊

I'm not your 'bro' ~ E42! Miles Morales

Summary: Miles makes you burn your grilled nutella sandwiches (which are bomb btw) but it's okay bc he gives you kisses

Contains: fluff, use of Ma/Mami

A/N: pls try a grilled nutella sandwich idc if ur allergic (jk) but I tried one for the first time and they're soooooo good

"hugs from behind"

~~~

You were leaned over the stove, watching to make sure your grilled nutella sandwiches didn't burn.

You invited Miles to come over, knowing he had taken a difficult math quiz today. The front door opened and in comes Miles. He immediately drops his backpack on the floor and walks over to where you are, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he gives you a hug from behind.

"Tired, Miles?" You ask, flipping the grilled sandwiches.

"Very," He mumbles into the crook of your neck, swaying you back and forth.

"Si quieres vete a mi cuarto y ve a dormir."

"I'm okay Ma, I'll just wait until you're done" He replies, turning you around so your back is towards the counter and you're facing him.

"Miles- the sandwiches," you mumble as he presses a warm kiss to your lips.

"They're fine, I just wanted to kiss you." He murmurs, pressing another one to your nose, before kissing your lips again.

You place your hand behind his neck, deepening the kiss, before breaking away to the smell of burnt bread.

You flip the sandwiches over to check how burnt they are, and show him the bread, which might as well just be charcoal. "Bro they burnt!"

"I'm not your bro, Mami. And besides, it's fine I'll still eat it." A smile tugs at his lips as he hugs you from behind once more and takes the plate from you and takes a bite. "Grilled Nutella Sandwich, my favorite."

"I thought I was your favorite!" You pout playfully, crossing your arms.

He takes a bite of the sandwich and huffs, "Eh, you're a close second, bro."

#e42 miles #miles morales #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles morales x reader #atsv #slugs writing!#mick 🐝

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ev3rm0re-q · 1 year

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study nights.

desc: you have a hard time trying to get taehyun's attention as he tries to study and accomplish his physics homework.

pairing: taehyun x shy reader

genre: fluff

warning/s: nonee

wc: 1,548 words

a/n: bro he looks SOO fine in these pictures i canttt. anyway, im so sorry for being so ia huhu but i j wanted to thank everyone for all the support the first post has been getting <33 i want to reply to the comments but im so bad at simply interacting with others that im scared to sound awkward kjdfnajkd. ik this is another fluff but i swear ive been working on a muchh longer fic that i wannna post soon, so stay tuned and i hope u guys enjoy this one first!!

Only the scribbling of words on some papers and the sound of typing on a keyboard could be heard in Kai and Taehyun's shared room as the two of you went about with your own separate activities.

Kai, his roommate, was currently in the living area with the other boys, given that he didn't want to interrupt you two during your time alone. Which was a bit of a wasted effort considering Taehyun seemed to be using it more for his solo study time.

At the moment, your boyfriend was devoting his utmost attention to his academics, with different papers and books systematically scattered all around the small study desk. His favorite pen on hand for extra notes, and he had a laptop propped up by a stand, followed by a Bluetooth keyboard on which he was currently typing his heart out.

You, on the other hand, were sat timidly on his bed with a good novel pressed against your nose. You did not wish to disrupt the boy because you knew how serious he was about his studies.

He had been trying to complete an extremely difficult homework for his Physics class, and because you didn't choose that as one of your classes for the year, you'd have no idea how much pain and suffering he'd have to endure in that class.

Like he was even going to suffer with that Professor Kim around.

Taehyun was very academically inclined, and as a result of the way he behaved himself, participated in class, and excelled in all of the work given to him, he often became the teachers' favorite student.

You could not help but admire your boyfriend for it. He truly possessed a lot of exceptional qualities.

Though your relationship was not as fresh as it used to be―you both being together for eight months long―you could not help but let your bashful manners take over when it came to situations like these.

You'd always been a shy and reserved kid who couldn't seem to take a stand for what you wanted in public interactions.

Of course, you could still converse with strangers when they needed directions and whatnot, but you never bothered to join large gatherings or tried to blend in with the other kids because you felt it was pointless and time-consuming. Basically being the opposite of Yeonjun... but you were still close friends with him.

Which is why you've often questioned how you managed to catch the attention of the extroverted boy sitting at the desk across from you. Maybe it was the random exchanges in the hallways- or you being well-acquainted with the rest of the boys.

Who knows?

You were just thankful that someone saw something special in you.

You looked up from your novel, expecting him to be almost finished with what he was doing and offer you some of his attention. Instead, you were disappointed to see that he remained deeply absorbed in his study. His focused gaze visible in his dark-brown eyes.

Because of this, you began to wonder if approaching him for attention was even a good idea. You decided to move a bit forward from your position until you were directly behind him, sitting on the edge of the bed.

For the following thirty minutes, you continued to silently read as he worked, giving him subtle hints that you wanted him to at least feel your presence from right behind him and take a glance at you.

"Tae?" You murmured out softly, unsure whether you wanted him to actually hear you or not.

He continued to focus solely on his work as he hummed out in response, "Hm?"

"How's your worksheet going?" You awkwardly questioned.

"Pretty rough, if I'm being honest. Why, love?"

"I-uhh just wanted to make sure you were doing alright." You uttered out before going back to your book.

Another hour had soon passed, and his prior hyper radar focus appeared to have cooled down to a more relaxed state as he progressed more with finishing his homework.

You were finding it difficult to concentrate on the task at hand because of the guys' occasional loud noise s outside, which was beginning to increase.

"You know, if you needed my attention, you could have just said so," He suddenly stated, out of the blue, eyes still glued to his screen.

"Huh?" You let out, not expecting him to even notice what you've been doing the whole time he was so immersed in his work.

"You heard me, love." He turned his chair around to finally look at you after hours of having his full attention on his homework.

"I'm not needy for your attention." you sneered, not wanting to appear 'needy' to him.

You hated that word. Needy. You were particularly insecure over having that trait in your relationship. You wished to prove to your boyfriend that you were just as responsible and self-sufficient as he had always been.

You frequently walked yourself home from school and even took precautions as to avoid spending too much time with him by only seeing him once or twice a week or texting him a lot but not too much to bother him.

Even while you were out with all of your friends, you took care to keep your proximity to him to a minimum so as not to overly suffocate him. It was a pretty big deal to you.

"So you wouldn't mind if I keep going until Soobin calls us for dinner?"

"Not at all." Your stubbornness took over as your y/e/c eyes never left the book.

So he continued studying for another couple of minutes and you were getting more impatient by the second. 'I fucked up.' you thought, remembering how much Taehyun truly sticks to his word.

You slowly started to fidget with the corners of the pages of your book, looking over your phone every now and then to try and find something to entertain you. Until, you finally broke. You stood up from the bed and headed over to where he sat to place your hands on his broad shoulders.

"Honey~" you called him out and him just humming back again in response.

Actually, he had finished the entirety of his worksheet a few minutes before. He was just pretending to do work to simply get a reaction out of you. The boy only wanted you to get over the shyness you still had, at least a bit, whenever you sought his attention or desired affection. To at least voice it out to him.

You spoke his name out once more, but he simply responded with another hum, seemed to barely acknowledge your calls.

"Can we... you know.."

"Huh?" His eyes still glued onto the PowerPoint he was currently 'studying'.

"...cuddle" You barely whispered out, not even sure if anyone could have heard what you just said.

"Excuse me... can we what, darling?" He teasingly replied.

As soon as you realized he was merely doing it to playfully taunt you, your stubborness resurfaced.

"You know what, never mind." You immediately took your hands off of his shoulders, backing out of your previous statement and started to walk back to his bed.

You suddenly heard another loud squeal come from the living room, it was probably Yeonjun teasing Kai again. That's when the idea popped into your head. You started making a beeline for the door, trying to leave without muttering another word to your boyfriend.

"What do you think you're doing?" His eyes left the screen in front of him.

"Well, I figured the rest of the boys were just playing around outside, and since you're busy, I figured I could just get extra cuddles from Kai or Beomgyu, or something." You blurted, your novel still safely stored in your hand, as you inched closer to the door.

You then felt a soft hand grab your empty one, swiftly pulling you back. Your body was tenderly encircled by familiar arms from behind, and you felt his body's warmth envelop yours as his head rested on your shoulder.

"Just say it, please." You heard him barely mumbling it into your shoulder.

"Say that you want my attention. That you want me." He practically begged into your ear.

Since he was so close to you, you stammered out "I-I" as you felt his hot breath brush up against your neck like a feather.

"You don't have to look for it from other people, Y/N. I'm here." He reassured you before slowly guiding you back towards his bed.

You two simply lay there together as you gazed into his large, dark-brown eyes that nearly had the appearance of dark pearls. As he was witnessing your open gawking at him, he couldn't help but let out a soft giggle.

"Why are you laughing so much." You pouted as he continued to tease you.

"I don't know, honestly. I just can't help the fact that I find you pretty cute." He remarked.

"Ugh, you're such a tease Kang Taehyun."

He then brought you in even closer before sealing the already little space between you with a gentle but hungry kiss.

"Were you really going to ask for cuddles from Beomgyu?"

"I think you missed the part where I also said Kai."

End.

939 notes · View notes

onskepa · 10 months

Note

Halo Hello Halo! I hope you are having a mighty fine day/night!

I hope this is alright but could I request a neteyam x avatar,na'vi! Reader?

Basically the reader is pregnant with what's supposed to be their first born. However, fate would have it that y/n would give birth to triplets! A never before heard of phenomena, due to na'vi usually having children one at a time and even then twins were a very rare event to occur!

I dunno I just like the idea of reader giving birth to triplets much to the sully family's surprise. Plus I couldn't help but think of how funny it would be for neteyam to be pacing outside the door for hours and the almost faint when finds out he doesn't just have one or two babies, but three!

Hellooooooooo!! once I read your request I KNEW the pic for it! sorry it took a bit to make it but I hope you enjoy!

Syawn series

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Syawn

[had to lol]

It was night when the moment arrived. All of the Omatikaya gathered near the tent of the Tsahik as they prey for the woman who is about to be a mother. Loud screams echoed the forest, all the mother's recognize those screams. Screams of pain and love.

In the tent mo'at, neytiri, kiri and tuk were aiding in the labor of the woman whom goes by the loving name Syawn, a name called with love.

Syawn was about to bring her child to the world of pandora. But by Eywa it hurts!

Tuk does her best by holding Syawn's hand as means to reassure her and give her the push to keep going. But tuk can only do so much.

"mama she is gonna break my hand...!!!!" she squeaks in pain. Small tears ready to fall from her eyes. But her pleas and begging were tuned out by the screaming woman beside her.

Mo'at and kiri were very concerned. Yes it is normal for the women to scream and cry during the birthing process, but Sywan's screams were louder, more painful. Of all the years assisting mother's to birth, they know the difference in the screams and cries. This one was different. Not terrible, but also not good.

On the outside of the tent, Jake and lo'ak were doing their best to keep neteyam calm. As calm one can get as they hear their mates cries.

"bro you are going to make me dizzy just seeing you walking like that" lo'ak groans. Neteyam was walking back and forth to no end as he was lost in this thoughts.

"I can see a ditch being created" jake says as he tries to make light of things. "You're not making things any better" neteyam remarks, huffing and feeling tense.

His mate's screams seems to no end, the urge to go in there and hold her hand, whisper in her ear, to try anything to ease her pain. He understand labor is a difficult thing a mother must go through as means to bring life into the world. He has heard his own mother screams as she births his siblings.

Jake having enough, he gets up from where he was sitting and grabs neteyam by the shoulders, looking at him eye to eye. "I know what you are feeling. I was there. I know you want to be with her, comfort her and want to take away her pain. Believe me son, I know. But your grandmother and sister knows what they are doing. They have done the same process many times. If it will make you feel better, why not go to the spirit tree?" he offers.

Neteyam didnt felt any better but knows his father speaks from his good heart. He was about to respond when the screams stopped. Silence all around now.

Fear and panic washed over neteyam. Fearing the worst, he runs towards the tend when tuk ran out, a big smile on her face.

"they are born!! they are here!!" she grabs her brothers hand and drags him into the tent.

He enters, the first thing he sees is his mate sleeping peacefully, exhausted from the process. He softly places a kiss on her nose, doing a small payer to Eywa that she had made it through. After making sure she is ok, he turns to his left.

And there, in a soft lighting from the lantern, shows mo'at, neytiri and kiri each holding one baby in their arms.

It wasnt one, nor two, but three na'vi babies. All small and very cute.

Mo'at looked at her newly born great grandchildren rather in shock and disbelief. Birthing one single child is common, twins is a extreme rarity, but three children at once? Impossible. A true blessing given by great mother Eywa.

Neytiri was also in shock but happy. Jake has explained he was a twin himself, that he had another half of himself. She understood she would have mostly likely birth twins. But it never happened.

To see three na'vi babies born at the same time, she felt lucky to witness such a scene. Possibly something that would only ever happen once.

Kiri was way too happy. Such a phenomenon right before her eyes! No doubt Eywa has blessed her sister to be this fertile. A wonderful gift to have.

The three children were exactly identical. Little tuffs of hair, shining bioluminescent dots decorated on their small little bodies, small hands and feet, their tails curled to their sides, making small noises. Cute ears pinned back, little round but definitely ears of na'vi.

Neteyam was shocked beyond words, lo'ak and jake enter to feel the same way.

"Well I be damned...." jake muttered.

Lo'ak chuckled in disblief. "Three? how is that even possible?"

"its not...this has never happened" mo'at replies.

Jake huffs a bit, smiling to see his first grandchildren. "I bet you are feeling excited aren't you neteyam?"

THUMP!!

Everyone turns to see neteyam passed out flat on the floor.

"neteyam?"

Ngl, I low-key want to make a part 2 to this. Whatchu guys think? lemme know! Hope yall enjoyed!

Syawn = blessing.

724 notes · View notes

kingkatsuki · 1 year

Text

— when you play secret santa

Masterlist.

Warnings: kinda angsty, not proofread.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.5k.

There are a multitude of things Bakugou Katsuki hates about the festive period. The freezing temperatures that make it difficult to use his quirk and leave him shivering on patrols, the fake hallmark bullshit that corporations try to sell during the holidays (he deliberately refuses any Yuletide collaborations for this exact reason), the way people seem to only care now it’s Christmas, the crowds and one of the worst things…

Forced fun.

Every year the Dynamight agency arrange a secret Santa, and every year Bakugou refuses to participate. Just another bullshit, meaningless waste of time during the festive period, and he never has any idea what to get anyone anyway.

But this year is different, because this year you worked at his agency. Bakugou groans as he looks down at the piece of paper with a name scribbled on it, his secret santa.

When you asked him one evening as you were leaving if he was going to participate in the secret santa event, he was going to reply with a scoff. Wondering why on earth you were asking him such a ridiculous question, what would give you the idea that Dynamight would want to do secret santa? But it was the adorable, hopeful look in your eyes that had his throat going dry and his heart palpitating as he stopped dead in his tracks. The words leaving his lips before he could even stop it— yeah, I am.

Bakugou hated the way your cheeks seemed to glow at his response, how happy you looked that this year he would be participating.

And that’s why he now found himself with a piece of paper in his hands with a name that wasn’t yours.

He didn’t even know who the fuck it was! Apparently after searching his employee database it was a lady in admin. Now stuck with trying to find a workplace regulation gift in between the long holiday shifts, maybe he’d get one of his sidekicks to get a gift for her instead.

How foolish he’d been to think that he’d get your name, that after all the shit he’d been through in his life that fate would grant him a free pass this once and give him the gift of you. But as always, the odds were against him. Crumpling up the piece of paper with a groan as he threw it onto his desk, tugging his glasses off to rub the balls of his hands into his eyes.

But perhaps he could swap with someone…

Finding out who had you was proving near impossible, it had been easy to get his sidekicks to announce to him who they had for the secret Santa, but everyone else in the agency was proving to be rather tight lipped. Whether it was the fear of their boss, or the fact that one of them may have him, he’d near but given up hope of swapping to get you.

“It’s supposed to be a secret, Bro.” Kirishima shook his head as he tucked into his bento box, a mouthful of rice slurring his words.

“I don’t give a shit, who ya got?” Bakugou pointed his chopsticks holding a piece of Gyoza towards Kirishima before shoving it into his mouth.

“I can’t tell you! It’ll ruin the whole thing,” Kirishima shook his head, “What if I’ve got you?”

“You ain’t got me.” Bakugou knew who had him already, it was a poor man from the cyber security department who seemed terrified when he’d revealed the big secret to the man himself.

“How do you know?” Kirishima sat back in his seat, “Man, this is why you never participate isn’t it? You don’t like fun.”

“I like fun,” Bakugou scrunched his nose in mock offence, “I hate surprises.” He mumbled, and truth be told, he hated not having you more.

“Well, I’ve already bought my gift so I can’t switch.” Kirishima grinned and Bakugou raised a surprised eyebrow.

For how generous and altruistic Kirishima was, he wasn’t usually this prepared. Often ignoring deadlines and leaving things until the last minute which would often result in him racing around like a headless chicken.

“Why don’t you just get her a gift anyway, man? I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”

“I can’t do that.” He shot back, glaring across the table.

There was no way he could get you a gift out of the blue, even if it was for Christmas. Being the only person in the agency outside of the secret santa that he’d purchased a gift for would make it completely obvious that he’s in love with you, and the thought of your rejection made him blanch.

“Yeah, you can.” Kirishima continued, “You were gonna get her something if she was your secret santa anyway, so what’s the difference?”

It was a huge difference, it would mean the gift he’d give you separately was far more personal… Even if he would’ve gifted you the exact same thing.

“Doesn’t matter.” Bakugou grumbled.

“Just wait it out man, and think positive. She might have you!” Kirishima smiled as he took a long sip of his protein shake.

The thought of you holding a piece of paper with his name on it had Bakugou feeling all giddy inside, trying to stop the ridiculous smile from tugging on the side of his lips as he pictured you going out to shop for a gift for him. Wrapping it and writing his name on it to gift it to him on Christmas Eve.

It was the only thought keeping him sane the closer it got to the day, finally acquiring his gift late after one patrol as he bought an obnoxiously Christmassy gift bag to place it inside as he brought it back to his agency. Scribbling the recipient onto the tag as he left it with the other gifts sitting beneath the outlandish tree. Bakugou wanted to look for your name in the huge pile, wondering if he could find out who actually had you or what the gift was but instead he made his way to the locker rooms. Tired bones aching from his arduous patrol as he made his way to shower before the annual Dynamight agency Christmas party, refusing to wear a Christmas jumper as he opted for a plain cable knit burnt orange sweater instead.

Turning up to the party late meant that most people had already opened their gifts, the loud bustle hitting him as he weaved through the crowds. Reaching out to grab a flute of champagne as he took a healthy sip as he gave polite nods to his staff that wished him a “Merry Christmas” as he walked through, not wanting to make it obvious that he was looking for you.

Giving up as he spotted the familiar red mop of his best friends hair hidden beneath a bright red Santa hat as he made a beeline towards him. Bakugou’s heart instantly sped up when he noticed who was standing beside him.

His heart fluttered at the sight of you, a gorgeous smile on your face as you seemed to hang on Kirishima’s every word. Handing him the glass you were holding as he handed you a gift in return. Was Kirishima your secret Santa all along?

The familiar ache returned to his chest at the sight, something he’d never experienced until he met you. His adam’s apple bobbing as he watched you slowly begin to tear open the messily wrapped present. He could make out the garish paper from across the room as Kirishima leaned in to gage your reaction, a huge grin on his face.

Bakugou couldn’t even be mad that Kiri got you as a secret Santa and didn’t tell him because the way your face lights up at whatever Kiri got you makes his heart palpitate. You’re so beautiful.

But he can’t avoid the hurt that aches in his chest or the way he feels his throat tighten as he watches how happy another man has made you, wishing it was him that made you look that happy instead.

Lifting his glass up to his lips he downs the rest of his champagne before placing the glass back onto the table, ignoring the lone present sitting beneath the large Dynamight tree addressed to him as he makes his way out of the room, his head down to avoid catching anyone’s gaze as he leaves.

Maybe he should’ve got you a present after all.

But if Bakugou had stuck around the office party, he would’ve seen what Kirishima gifted to you as your secret Santa, and the real reason why you were smiling. The horribly wrapped gift was actually a framed photograph of you and Bakugou at a press interview for Dynamight’s agency. Your eyes gazing up at him in adoration as you both smiled softly at something the other had said while you both acted like you were the only two in the world.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou angst #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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oumaheroes · 4 months

Note

My soul cries out for Scotland and England being siblings; I love those two and their stormy sense of brotherhood. I may or may not be biased cos my favourite period is medieval, which is ripe for England and Scotland conflict and shenanigans.

Congratulations on 1000 followers! You deserve it!

Thank you so much, Ballad!! And to you too Nonny, that's a high compliment indeed <3

I got a few requests for UK bros and England and Scotland as a pair, so there will be more than just this. I hope this quick little story fits the bill in the meantime!

----------

Currency

Alba nodded in satisfaction as he tilted the horse's face slightly to the side, its rubbery lips soft and warm against his bare palm.

'Teeth seem fine.'

'Let me see.'

Alba bent to hold Albion up to the animal, settling his weight against his hip.

'Careful.' He warned as his brother reached out for the horse's nose, 'Slowly. Or she'll bite.'

'I know.' Albion said sharply, but paused his hands in mid air before lowering them carefully down on the short fur, 'I'm not stupid.'

'Sure.'

'So what do you think.' The horse's owner, a traveller from Gaul unusual this far up north, peered at them with lowered brows. His accent was thick, more used to the Brythonic dialects of the south than the midland ones now quick on Alba's tongue. 'You take her? She's strong; good for distance.'

'She seems healthy.' Alba agreed, 'Perfect for the winter.'

'That what you need her for?'

Alba didn't reply.

The stranger raised his hands, conceding, 'Well, she is yours if you want. She can't have more foal so she no good to me, and no war mount either.' He patted his other horse on its thick neck, the creature a good few hands taller than the smaller female they were discussing. They were tied together with a long rope, the smaller horse further tethered to a loaded wooden wagon.

Alba ignored this comment too. 'What do you want for her?' He asked, switching to what he hoped was the man's native tongue, a language from Northern Gaul he had picked up from some sailors a few years ago. It was useful to know the closest ones from the mainland and he was rewarded for his rusty troubles with a wry smile.

‘125 denarii’, The Gaul said smoothly, ‘Or equivalent, if you have other currency.’

'Coins?' Alba shifted Albion's weight, his brother slipping from his grip in his attempt to lean closer to the horse, too interested in stroking her to pay any attention to the conversation. 'What about in trade?'

'I trade in coin for horses.'

'We don't use coin here.' (1)

'Then you don't trade with me.'

Alba silently cursed. They did not need a horse, not in the way they needed food or shelter, but it would certainly be useful. Winter was tightening its grip on the land and a horse would make tracking across snow and icy terrain between clans much easier. Alba and Ériu could cross the distances fine enough, but their brothers were too young to make as many long treks without either numerous breaks in between or long stops in settlements. Summer, with its days of generous light and warm weather, made the amount of travelling Alba wanted to do easier, but as soon as the days grew short it became more and more difficult to move safely at any decent speed. Mama always had them more settled at this time of year, but even Albion could feel a new restlessness in the air that hadn't been there in her time.

A mare would help.

Alba placed Albion down and felt discreetly for the pouch of assorted coins against his leg. 'Why do you want coin?'

The Gaul shrugged, 'Much of the mainland uses coin. It's common.'

'Not here.'

'Here is not the main land.'

'Why for horses?'

The man spread an arm in an arc over his wagon, the thick waterproof cover high over whatever was piled underneath, 'Everything else, I'll trade for in these parts. But horses are worth their weight in gold, here as much as anywhere else. The value is not tradeable.'

Albion tugged at Alba's trousers, 'Let me back up.'

'We have quality things to trade.' Sticking to the stranger's language, Alba kept the Gaul's gaze. Albion tugged at him again and Alba gripped the shoulder of his cloak to hold him still, fingers digging down firm. 'Cloth, dyed. Jewellery, skins, meat-'

'I only trade horses in coin.'

The man spoke politely enough but Alba could hear the note of finality in his words.

'Adair-'

'Shh!' Alba pushed Albion away towards the horse, noting that she was still patient and calm despite the child by her feet. 'Go away.'

From his inner pocket, he lifted out the pouch which held their meagre collection of coins. They were all different: various sizes and colours, with different pictures on their sides. They found them along their travels by the sides of worn and well walked roads, usually in the south around port settlements and trade points. Albion and Ériu had a keen eye for them in the mud and grass and they had amassed a fair few.Alba selected the biggest one and held it out.

The man blinked at him.

'For the horse.' Alba said.

The man laughed loudly. Alba felt his cheeks flush and brought his hand back down, feeling wrong-footed. 'What?'

'You are serious?' The man shook his head and grinned, 'One coin?'

Alba frowned. 'You said you wanted coin. One horse, one coin.'

'By the Gods.' The man ran a hand through his hair and laughed again, 'If I didn't know you were serious, boy, I'd beat you for the cheek of it. One horse, one coin; my my.'

He huffed in amusement and gestured for the pouch, 'Show me those.'

He took the collection and tipped the contents into Alba's palm, moving the coins around with a thick index finger. 'You see the different faces and sizes? They all have different worth.'

Alba stared at them.

'They're not like pots, or furs, where the value is unique to what you’re trading.' The man continued, flipping over one of the coins, 'If one if shiny or newer, it doesn't change value. So long as it is the same weight. And the different sized coins represent different value, as well as what they’re made of.'

‘But some are gold.’

The man patted Alba hard on the shoulder, 'You need to learn money, boy, if you want to do proper trade.'

Alba forced his face to stay expressionless, 'Is it enough. For the mare.'

'No.'

Alba scoffed and tipped the money back into the pouch. 'Then this has been a waste of both our time.'

The Gaul sucked at his top lip behind his moustache and jerked his head over Alba's shoulder, 'They all yours?'

Ériu and Cymru were further away behind them on the muddy track, kicking a small rock back and forth between them. Ériu caught the rock between Crymu's feet and kicked it free with a shout of victory, dashing away to gain a clear advantage.

'Yes.' Alba said, watching them.

‘Parents? Clan?’

‘No.’

The man nodded. 'That's a lot of you. You’re all young to be alone as you are.'

Alba didn't reply.

‘Tell you what.’ Before Alba could react, too quick even to register exactly what happened, the man hunkered down and gripped a hand around Albion’s upper arm. He tugged him closer, hard enough so that Albion tripped over his feet, ‘I’ll take this one as payment. We’ll do it your way and make it a trade.’

He cupped a hand around Albion’s head to stare into his eyes, critical and cool as if assessing an animal, ‘He seems strong enough to grow into something worthwhile.’

‘Get off him!’ Alba’s voice cracked, surprise rendering him younger, and stepped forwards, one hand going to the dagger by his side.

The man put up a hand, eyes still on Albion, ‘Calm down. I’m only looking.’

‘He’s not for sale.’

‘You want to trade rather than pay? This is at least a fair exchange.’

Albion, the shock of being tugged about by a stranger finally having worn off, twisted sharply and bit down hard on the man’s wrist. The Gaul reacted in kind and stood with a yelp, sending Albion flying back with a wet thud into the muddy ground.

‘Vermin!’ He kicked out at Albion where he lay sprawled, catching him in the stomach.

Over Albion’s cry of pain, Alba heard Ériu shout something from behind him, then the sound of running.

The man returned his attention to Alba and cradled his wrist, his eyes flashing, ‘It was a true offer, made in kind faith. He would have had a better life with me and you’d know it, if you weren’t so damn foolish. Food, shelter; not this.’ He gestured to Alba’s worn clothes, travel stained and haphazardly repaired.

‘We don’t want the kindness, sir.’

‘Then by your own death be it.’ The Gaul shook out his hand and swung himself up onto his horse. Clicking his tongue, he kicked at its flank and moved them off without a look back.

Alba lunged forwards and quickly dragged Albion out of the way of the wheels before they could clip him, hoisting him into his arms.

‘You’re alright.’ He told him, more to make it true than anything else, ‘It wasn’t that bad.’

‘What happened?’ Ériu came panting beside him, looking from Alba to Albion and then at the retreating caravan, ‘Did he-‘

‘Leave it.’

Ériu reached for his dagger as Cymru came breathless and horrified by his side, ‘Who does he thi-‘

‘Leave it.’ Alba, grabbed his arm. ‘It’s not worth it.’

He felt Albion press his face into his shoulder, arms tight about his neck, and swallowed back something hot and bitter, ‘He’s not one of ours.’

Ériu’s expression soured into disgust, ‘I don’t think that should change anything.’

‘Doesn’t matter what you think.’ Alba turned away so that Ériu couldn’t see the shame and anger on his face, ‘It fucking does.’

--------------------

‘Adair.’

Alba opened his eyes and stared at the dark ceiling of their makeshift shelter. The campfire Ériu was guarding outside made the shadows jump, the outlines of the branches supporting the skins above their heads jumping and lengthening into nothingness.

‘Ad-‘

‘What, Arthur.’ Alba turned his head to find Albion, wide-eyed and watchful between him and Cymru.

‘What that man said earlier-‘

Alba turned away. ‘Go to sleep.’

‘Is that how people see us now?’

Albion’s voice was quiet, smaller beyond trying not to wake Cymru fast asleep on his back. Alba rolled back to face him, ‘See us like what.’

Albion shrugged, a small movement under heavy furs, ‘Alone.’

More than simply alone, Alba knew he meant. ‘Alone’ as something bad, something less than. Something to be pitied. He cracked the knuckles of one hand with his thumb under the covers as he thought of what to say, ‘We are alone.’

‘Mama was alone.’ Albion said quietly, ‘She used to say so, before we were here. But-’

‘Mama was grown.’

‘She wasn’t always.’

‘Before then, there were more. Mama was the last one of her family before we came along.’

‘It wasn’t a bad thing then, though. For her to be alone.’

‘Were you born?’ Alba raised an eyebrow even though Albion likely couldn’t see it, ‘How do you know.’

Albion stayed silent. Alba thought of his belly, the purple bruises they had found bloomed into his pale skin from the boot that caught him earlier, and reached for his brother to gently pull him closer, ‘We are alone. That’s our fate now. Believing it to be good or bad won’t change it. It just is.’

‘I suppose.’

‘Nothing wrong with being alone, anyway.’ Alba tucked Albion’s head under his chin, his hair cool from the chilly air, and closed his eyes, ‘We’re alright on our own.’

‘We need to get better at it.’

‘I’ll take your advice when you can stay awake through a watch.’

‘...That was one time.’

‘The only time we let you try.’

Albion huffed and shifted closer. ‘I don’t want to go on watch anyway.’

‘Then I don’t want your advice.’

Albion fell silent, and Alba listened through Cymru’s snores as his breathing slowed and deepened. Every experience had something to learn, Mama had always said, and the day’s teaching was a valuable one, as hard as it was to take. The world beyond their lands was unknown, and something they’d need to learn to read and understand if they wanted to work with it successfully.

The next day, Alba spread the illegible coins of foreign kings onto the ground and began to learn.

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AN:

(1) Celts and trade. Celtic peoples used a bartering system of trading goods, rather than using money. Coins were used to store or show wealth but were also just as often used in jewellery. Celtic nations on the European mainland did eventually start minting their own currencies, followed by the British Celts much later, but it was a system quite late to take compared to their contemporaries

You can read more about it here, though as always please do your own research!

#aph england #hws england #hws scotland #aph scotland #hws #hetalia #historical hetalia #aph brit bros #aph uk bros #hws british isles #aph #heroes writes #longbow anon

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