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#drooping branches
wanderingbards · 4 months
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I am headcanoning the shit out of Floyd rn.
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artificial-condition · 10 months
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Honestly thank god for my job because I was driving in hating everyone and everything and desiring to become a hermit and now that I’m at work I’m vibing and don’t have near as much malice in my heart
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contradictivs · 1 year
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I think sb should take ryder to the beach
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Was reading Branch’s page on wiki fandom and found this (which made me rly sad)
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“Permanent physical deformity.” Oof. Ouch. My heart-
But THEN
I saw that Floyd’s ears droop downwards too!!
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Out of all of the bros, theirs are the only ones to droop downwards, which is SUCH a detail to me because it could mean two things 1. Floyd also lost his colors for a time off camera= youngest-gray-bros solidarity or 2. They just designed Floyd that way to be the most similar to Branch- which is SO CUTE in and of itself. So yeah that’s it that’s the detail
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peachesofteal · 4 months
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Light on - single mom/neighbor fic - reader POV - 18+ MDNI Simon Riley/female reader
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“Ye dinnae have tae worry.”
Johnny, Simon’s friend, or coworker, you guess, croons to the two of you, happy faced Emma bobbing in his arms. She’s perfectly content with him, her affinity for big strong men clearly grown since knowing Simon, when she took to him like a duck to water.
Still. You’ve never left your baby in the care of a stranger.
Simon, somehow, senses the hesitance. Sees the tepid enthusiasm, a big palm settling at the middle of your back, mouth leaning close to hover above your ear. “If you’re not sure, we can stay in.”
“No!” You settle as quickly as you can after the blurted admission, embarrassment simmering away in your gut. “No, sorry. I trust you... I trust your judgement.” You motion to Johnny, who’s watching you with a serious expression. “I’m sure it will be fine, it’s just-“
“You’ve only ever left her with me.” He finishes for you, and you look up at him, relieved to find soft brown eyes crinkling with understanding, sweetness. The tender affection you’ve come to know so dearly.
“Just that one time and- and she’s so little.” At the same time, she yawns, little chest rising and falling with a big exhale, tiny lids begrudgingly drooping shut. She’s just going to be sleeping anyway. Just go.
Another voice whispers in the back of your mind. One you haven’t heard for quite some time, urging you forward from beyond the light.
Be brave.
Dinner is great. Better than great, even. It’s… wonderful. Perfect. The restaurant is decked out for the holiday, and there are lights of every color strung from the rafters, soft music wafting and weaving through the throng of diners, low light accompanied with candles dotting each table. The food is delicious, aromatic and rich, and both you and Simon eat until you’re complaining of feeling too full, one last glass of wine settling into your veins with a giddy effervescent that makes you giggle just a little bit too much.
“We’re not due back for another hour.” He muses, after the check’s paid and you’re both lingering by the door, his warm hand squeezing yours. “Want to walk?” He motions to the green space across the block, the one that’s got a big tree glowing in the middle, flanked with a residential street all lit up, more lights and decorations shining into the night.
“These houses are pretty.” You murmur, cheek smushed against his bicep, arm wrapped around his like you’re a koala, and he’s your tree. Your shelter.
“You like ‘em?” You take a left, peeling off into the park, steps naturally in stride, and he adjusts, pulling his arm free to wrap it around your shoulder, heart warming in your chest when you feel his lips come down across your head overtop your hat, the touch alone enough to make you feel toasty all the way through your boots.
“Yeah. Always wanted Emma to have a yard, y’know?” You sigh. It’s not out of reach, so much, but everything was easier with two incomes, and before it was just you and her, you felt like the dream was nearly attainable. Nearly there. “One day.” You slow to a stop in front of a tree, it’s long trunk stretching towards the sky, barren branches wrapped in string lights, and turn expectantly, face tilted. Kiss me, you hope your expression tells him. Make me yours.
His mouth covers yours, fiercely, lips parting to work tongues and teeth together, fingers scrabbling across clothing, seeking, touching. You trace along the hem of his shirt, up under his jacket, his skin shivering beneath your touch, muscles tensing, shaking in the night. Your palm splays flat against his ribs, his abs, and you hum into his mouth, thighs pressing together at the feeling of him reacting to your touch. He’s been such a gentleman. So perfect, with you in his bed. He looked away, every time you tried to prance into the room in a too small pair of sleep shorts. He averted his eyes, when you rolled over without a bra on, breasts loose in your sleep t shirt. Even cuddling, waking up together, going to sleep... he was respectful. You wish he was just a little more willing… to be bad.
You tried not to think about the alternative. The idea that he’s seen your stretch marks, and stomach, enough to make you feel a little sick. You’ve been strategic about it, big shirts, hips covered, but what if…
You bury the thoughts. The dread and spiral that feels like circling the drain. The wine makes you feel bold, it makes you feel desperate to know. Does he want this?
“Simon.” You gasp, hardly separating yourself to speak. Instead, you feed your words to him, hoping they’ll sink through, hoping they’ll make sense. “I need- I want you to touch me.” He pulls away, hand cradling your cheek, leveling you with a serious look.
“We don’t have to rush this, sweetheart, I-“
“I’m not rushing.” More tongue. He tastes like the whiskey from dinner, and the tannins of your wine. Like the bread and the oil, rich silky texture, earth and salt exploding in your senses. “I’m ready.” You find his hand, pulling it from your cheek, dipping low to crawl up under the bottom of your sweater, until his knuckles are brushing against the skin of your diaphragm. There’s a sharp intake of breath and then-
His hand folds over the curve of your breast, thumb slipping inside the fabric of your bra, stroking across your nipple. When he feels it, firm against his touch, he groans, pressing closer, his body crowding yours against the tree. The width of his frame shields you, and he drifts low to your skirt, teasing his touch across your lower belly, fingers dipping into the waistband.
“You think you’re ready for me?” He hums in your ear, teeth grazing against the shell. You shudder, soft whine slipping free, and he shifts, hard cock swollen in his jeans, now pressing between your legs, making you throb for him beneath tartan and cotton. “Are you sure, sweetheart?” He slides his hand down, searching beneath your skirt, grazing along the outside of your panties. You close your eyes when his finger slips inside, stroking through where you know you’re ready, where you’re so wet, clit pulsing with desperation for him. He circles your entrance, dipping inside you and then out, stroking over your swollen bud, making you jolt and whimper in his hold. “Fuck.” He breathes.
“Yeah, I’m-“
“You’re soaked for me.” He kisses you, long and deep and furious, still working his finger gently back and forth. “This pussy been wet all night, honey?” Your eyes nearly roll back into your fucking skull, words failing on your tongue.
“Simon… I- yeah.”
“Want me to take you home, take care of you?” He presses deeper, heel of his hand making contact with your clit, thick finger sinking into you, moan swallowed by his mouth. “Think you can be quiet enough so you don’t wake the baby?” He thrusts, pressure grinding upwards, your walls clenching desperately. You nod frantically, but he doesn’t stop, keeps fucking up into you with his finger, bringing you dangerously close to the edge quicker than you ever thought possible.
“Fuck, I-“
“Shhh.” He hushes, mouth wide on your cheek before slotting his lips against yours and pulling free, finger falling away from your body. You watch with wide eyes as he brings it to his lips, slipping it inside to taste you, lashes fluttering like he’s dining on some sort of decadence. “I’ll give what you need sweetheart.” His forehead touches yours. “I’ll give you everything. I promise.” He swears, and something glints in his eyes, something serious, nearly predatory, severe and dedicated, so intense that it makes you shiver.
“Okay.”
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jamminvroomvroom · 26 days
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die for you.
ln x driver!reader
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in which you can’t stand each other, or so you say…
this took waaaay too long for me to hate it sm but she’s here! and she’s long! love this concept so much, thank you for this request. so many feels so many vibes, tell me what you think <3
loosely inspired by die for you by the weeknd
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, slight glimpses of she fell first, he fell harder, rivals to lovers/enemies to lovers, choking, hate sex? bar fight, mentions of blood
8.3k words (oop)
it’s rare that you miss a podium, so when you do, it tastes bitter and stings like a bitch.
the car has been on fire all season long, a thing of beauty in your calculated hands. so, the string of bad luck you’re enduring, small mistakes with big consequences, it’s quite the pill to swallow.
out of the car you jump, teeth grinding hard out of frustration. you could see the commotion ahead of you, members of the papaya team celebrating their driver. your eyes roll so hard in your head that you feel a lasting ache. you side step members of your team, dodging every single person that tries to talk to you, your comms officer knowing better than to try and engage with you. you know you’re being unreasonable, it was a p5 finish! but it isn’t a podium or a win, so quite frankly, you aren’t interested, and you certainly don’t have any energy left to hear how amazingly well he had driven.
lando fucking norris.
what was once quiet disdain had grown into fully fledged hatred and you fear you’ll be violently sick if you catch a single glimpse of him on the podium. sure, he’s talented, and sure, he’s beautiful, you suppose. that doesn’t mean you have to like him. not anymore. he lives under your skin, inescapable.
you struggle through every interview in the media pen, most of which dissect your recent fall from grace, your mouth forming a hard, unimpressed line every time they mention the orange goblin and his recent streak of podiums and good luck. you wish the journos would bring up his string of women and the probable plan b receipts that went with them. that, you would love to talk about.
you drive in silence back to your hotel, leaving the track as soon as possible, and quickly find solace in your bed for the night. the idea of seeing the inside of a club makes you nauseous after your epic downfall. as your eyes are drooping, your body going limp under the thick duvet, a knock sounds from the door.
“no.” you shout flatly, but the only response you get are giggles from the hallway. for fuck sake, you mutter, groaning as you shift out from beneath the covers and trail apprehensively towards the door.
george and alex appear before you, and you throw your head back is exasperation.
“mate, it’s 9:30.” alex laughs, taking in your fancy attire; pyjamas that you’ve had since you were 17.
“what’s your point?” you croak, glaring up at your obnoxiously tall friend.
“why aren’t you getting ready to go out?” george questions, leaning against the doorframe. he, too, was obnoxiously tall, you thought, feeling the strain in your neck as you move your glare onto him.
“if it wasn’t obvious, i’m not going.” you deadpan, crossing your arms over your chest. “i thought that was clear after i ignored all 77 of your texts.” you smile sarcastically, rubbing sleep from your eyes.
“don’t be boring! you’re an f1 driver, you’re in a cool city, you’re rich and, let’s face it,” he sasses. “you need to get laid.” alex says, like it’s the most causal thing in the world. your eyes bulge out of your head at the utterance of the last bit. george bites back laughter.
“choosing to ignore that.” you hiss. “i’m sorry but i refuse to go out and celebrate that arrogant, whiny little bitch.”
they both know exactly who you’re talking about.
you and lando have simply never seen eye to eye. your karting days were spent pushing one another off the track or into a muddy puddle if things got a bit heated out of the car. sure, olive branches were extended, and maybe adolescent feelings were secretly harboured, but he never gave you any reason to tell him that. you’d grown out of the childish violence when you graduated into formula 1, but you hadn’t been able to shake the rage he made you feel.
it didn’t matter how many dinners you attended where others had conspired and forced you to sit next to each other. it didn’t matter how many times you turned up to play padel and were met with the same lame excuses of ‘oh, did we not mention lando would be here?’ it didn’t matter how many times you’d hugged it out on the podium while adrenaline and tensions were running high.
it didn’t matter how many times he’d watched you from across a crowded room and you’d found his eyes, watched him back. it didn’t matter how many times he’d smirked at you at the start of a race weekend, made you blush. and it certainly didn’t matter what happened last time you found yourself in a club with him.
you just don’t like him. not anymore. you sleep better at night when you lie to yourself.
~ the last time
you sink shot after shot, cocktail after cocktail; the taste of fruity liquor stains your lips and burns your throat. you feel electric, sizzling with ecstasy and the heat from the flashing lights above your head.
it’s approaching 4am and you can’t recall a time in your life where you’d felt so fucking good. the high of your first win is indescribable.
you’ve lost track of the guys, alex and george have packed it in and gone back to their hotels with their girlfriends. pierre and kika are somewhere in a corner, you’re certain. you’re pretty sure you’ve even seen lewis with his entourage and a brick wall of a bodyguard trailing behind him. and at the bar, a set of eyes watch you.
lando isn’t even listening to oscar anymore, no. he is too entranced in the way your hips move to the beat, lost in the carefree lines your body makes in the crowd. he’s itching to go to you, put his hands in places that would stay between you, him, and god, but he doesn’t think a broken nose would be good for business.
everything changes when you spin around, facing his direction. then, it begins: the same thing that happens every time you end up going out in the same group. you watch one another, pretending you’re not both achingly desperate to find out how the other tastes.
but lando is feeling bold. he tells oscar he’ll see him in the morning, and then, egged on by a moscow mule and a few too many shots, he makes his way towards you. it is instinctual, magnetic, the way he is drawn to you.
hands on your hips, lips on your neck. the song changes. you recognise the weeknd’s voice. you are disappointed in yourself but it feels too good to stop.
you know what i’m thinkin', see it in your eyes
you hate that you want me, hate it when you cry
you’re scared to be lonely, 'specially in the night
i’m scared that i’ll miss you, happens every time
the lyrics sober you up. you’re in the first taxi you can see when you finally get outside.
alone.
~
as much as that memory makes you shiver, for several different reasons, you find yourself putting on some makeup and raking through your suitcase for something to wear. george and alex are waiting downstairs for you at the bar, and when you finally make your way down there, they have a martini waiting for you. they watch in impressed horror as the alcohol disappears from the glass mere seconds after it touches your lips.
“let’s get this over with.” you sigh.
-
it could have been worse, you suppose.
the club is packed, hundreds of faces blurring into nothing. you feel better knowing that there is a one in a million chance of running into lando.
you’re tucked into a booth with alex and george, carmen and lily, a few faces you can’t quite place, and charles and pierre. you’d conspired to sit on the outside, prepared to make a quick getaway at the first sign of tension.
you’d been in a state of fight or flight since your last run in, nails bitten down every time you thought about his hands on you, how good they felt on you. it scared you more than anything had in a long time, how your desire had festered.
you go to take a swig from your glass, only to find it empty, aside from a few sad ice cubes. you watch jealously as they melt into nothing, wishing they would take you with them, shoving your glass across the smooth table top when your frustration boils over.
you’re on edge, ridiculously afraid of bumping into a curly haired man. it wasn’t him you were scared of, per-say, more yourself. god knows what you’d do if you felt those warm, calloused hands pulling your hips into his again.
“you okay?” pierre calls across the table. he and charles abandon their conversation as soon as your glass goes flying towards their side of the table. you’re broken out of your trance, caught off guard like a deer in headlights.
“tired.” you reply, shrugging it off like it was nothing. it’s clear immediately that they don’t buy it.
“she’s hiding.” alex chimes in from beside you, and your elbow goes straight into his ribs. he feigns pain for a moment, cackling at your reaction.
“from who?” charles inquires. you roll your eyes, blush spreading down your neck already. you hate everything about the conversation, and yet you need to see where it goes. you’d planned your escape, and now was the opportune time to make it, but you seem to be glued to the leather of the booth.
“lando.” george smirks into his drink as a he speaks, wiggles his eyebrows.
“oh yeah, we know all about that.” pierre laughs, his head tipping back in amusement.
“what?” you spit, eyes wide with confusion.
“don’t think me and kika didn’t see you two before the summer break. that night you won? we thought you’d finally cave.” pierre explains, his grin conveying pure evil.
several “what?!”’s sound from around the table, and now all eyes are on you.
“nothing even happened.” you mumble. “he came over to me and then i left.” you look away, twisting your hair around your finger. you are sweating.
“you looked like you were minutes away from being arrested for public indecency.” pierre smirks. you almost launch yourself across the table, intent on strangling him, and then perhaps throwing yourself in front of an oncoming uber outside.
“well, well, well. i fucking knew it.” alex is giggling beside you.
“come on guys, leave the poor girl alone.” lily winks at you, but even she has a twinkle in her eye. “there’s obviously feelings there.” and just like that she betrays you. her sympathetic smile doesn’t make you forgive her.
“i think you guys just need to get it out of your system,” charles starts, pausing to take a sip of his drink. “just fuck.” he waves his hand, like it was the most causal thing in the world.
the table erupts in laughter and you decide that you are well past the end of your tether. you shake your head, declaring that you need another drink, or ten, and strut away from the table. a chorus of ‘love you’-s and ‘get some’-s sound from behind you. you reply simply by raising your middle finger and refusing to look back.
the bar is in sight, just about in your reach when your evening goes from mildly bad to aggressively worse.
“fuck sake.” you sigh.
“and good evening to you too.” lando replies. he’s blocking your path, materialising before you out of nowhere.
“get out of my way, lan.” it sounds like you’re pleading and you cringe internally.
“don’t you wanna congratulate me?” he feigns a pout and you almost swing for him.
“no, not particularly.” you say dryly. “all i want is a drink, so if you’d just…” you gesture for him to move. of course, he doesn’t.
“haven’t seen you in a while, though. thought maybe you’d missed me.” he takes a step closer; goosebumps litter your bare skin.
“you are such an entitled prick.” you spit, moving to step around him but he catches you, gripping your wrists and pulling you in. you feel heat radiating off of him, expensive cologne overwhelming you in the best possible way.
“and you, honey, are such a fucking brat. but you don’t hear me complaining, do you?” lando whispers, cool breath hitting your face, minty, laced with champagne and cockiness. you almost fold, thighs clenching so tight that he must have noticed.
“move.” you grumble through gritted teeth. you are crumbling painfully, embarrassingly fast.
“make me.” your underwear is damp, but you are fuming.
“don’t fucking test me, lando.” something in your chest sets on fire and you’re over him and his bullshit, and the way he makes you feel.
“i know you want me.” he dips his forehead down to rest gently against yours. his grip on your wrists tightens, thumbs swirling circles into the flesh, right where your pulse is.
you lean in, mere centimetres separating your lips. his eyes darken, the assumption of victory over you tugs his lips into a smirk.
“all i want is my fucking drink. come find me when you’ve managed to navigate your gigantic, stupid head out of your arse.” you catch him off guard, wriggling out of his grip. you’re shaking when you walk away, thoughts of doing things with him that would get you both fired invading your foggy brain.
you try to disappear into the crowd, finally breathe a sigh of relief when your hands meet the cool surface of the bar. you order your drink, putting it on your tab and drum your nails against the marble top. you’re lost in your own world, watching as concoctions are mixed, as shots are downed. you finally feel at ease, until your evening takes yet another turn, one that was somehow even more unfortunate than all the others.
your attention is rudely stolen by the guy stood next to you.
“can i get that for you?” the random man speaks, in a way that he must of assumed was smooth. slimy, you think. he’s gesturing to your drink, clearly having watched you add it to your bill already.
“no, thank you. it’s already paid for.” you smile politely, turning on your heel. it seems he wasn’t quite done with you. you feel a clammy hand tug on yours, a wave of sickness washes over you.
lando’s hands are bigger, warmer, softer.
“where are you rushing off to, babe?” the sweaty man asks, his tone fake in a way that makes you uneasy.
“i need to get back to my friends.” you try to pull your hand free, but he won’t budge. “can you let go-“
“i can show you a good time. always thought you were kinda hot.” you’re panicking now, looking every which way for a familiar face, a security guard, anyone.
“take your hands off of me.” you snap, still wrestling to pull yourself free.
“one night with me would pull you out of that little slump you’re in.” he leers. you visibly gag, white hot rage blurs your vision.
“okay you piece of shi-“ you snarl, interrupted by a flash of curls and tanned skin.
“she told you to let go.” lando stands in front of you protectively, rigid and furious. you’ve never been so happy to see his annoying(ly beautiful) face.
“and what are you gonna do?”
“hands. off.” lando stands up even straighter, looking bigger than you’ve ever seen him.
“okay, mate, whatever.” the stranger rolls his eyes, shoves your hand away.
lando turns to you, opening his mouth to speak when…
“keep that stuck up bitch all to yourself.”
and then, everything goes to shit.
lando whips around, fists are flying, the stranger topples to the ground, amassed to nothing in the face of the mclaren drivers rage. lando doesn’t stop there, makes sure he is sufficiently dealt with, flat on his back on the sticky floor. you don’t know what to do, calling out for lando, begging him to stop, as satisfied as you are. lando hears your shouts, pulled out of the chaos and back to you. always back to you.
“are you okay?” he has his hands on your face searching for any remaining fear or upset. a crowd has formed and you see alex and george towering above the other club goers, jaws agape.
it’s as if he dj has it out for you, and you realise that the song has changed to something moodier, slower, one that gives you whiplash.
even though we're going through it
and it makes you feel alone
just know that i would die for you
baby, i would die for you
“we need to get out of here. security are coming.” you mutter, keening into his touch.
“i have a car outside.”
“well, let’s use it then.”
-
you can’t help but stroke over his knuckles mindlessly in the car, an unlikely comfortable silence settling between you. they look raw, cracked slightly and you have an overwhelming desire to kiss them better. your head is fuzzy, and you’re unsettled with confusion, but at the same time, you feel lighter.
“why did you do that?” you murmur, disrupting the quiet that has settled over the backseat of the town car, the question burning desperately on your tongue.
lando turns his head so that he’s looking down at you, his good hand comes up to cup your jaw softly.
“no one can talk to you like that.” he’s staring so deeply into your eyes and you almost squirm at the intensity. you feel exposed, bare.
“but why did you step in before that?” you reiterate shakily. lando hums in understanding.
“i’ve known you since we were 10 years old. i know when you’re scared.” he whispers, breath dusting your cheeks. you almost lean in, then, something about his words pull you even closer towards him. you feel warmth creeping over your chest, sinking into the pit of your belly.
“we’ve arrived.” the driver calls from the front, signalling that you need to get out of the car. it was like an elastic band had snapped, and you spring away from lando, scrambling to undo your seat belt, the moment of weakness long gone.
you sneak into the lobby, on the lookout for any angry PR teams or incognito photographers that are scoping for their next pay check. the coast seems clear, so you manage to scurry discreetly into the elevator. you hit the button for the third floor.
“can you hit the button for five?” lando asks, leaning against the opposite wall.
“you’re coming to my room.” you state, offering no other explanation, even when he raises his eyebrows.
the ding of the lift has lando pushing himself off of the mirrored wall, trailing behind you into the corridor. the lights are low as he follows you to your door, hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. he watches in anticipation as you rifle through your small bag for your keycard. the green light gives you the go ahead to open the door, and he awkwardly follows you inside, peering around the room.
you notice the slight apprehension in his features, eyes blown wide from alcohol and adrenaline. they seem to sparkle more than you’d seen in a while, a hazel-y blue twisting with secrets and unspoken thoughts.
“let me find my first aid kit.” you tell him. you guide him towards the foot of your bed, gesture for him to sit. “make yourself comfortable.”
“you don’t need to do this.” lando replies, sitting down anyway.
“and you didn’t need to get between me and that dickhead but here we are.”
your words elicit a low chuckle from him, and you’re glad you have your back to him while you dig through your suitcase. he can’t see your smile at the wholesome sound, and he doesn’t need to.
random pieces of clothing fall out of the bag as you rummage through it, your attention taken up completely by your mission to find the small box. you don’t notice the pile of garments littering the floor.
“wow, didn’t take you for that kinda girl.” lando teases. your cheeks flame red when you catch sight of the cherry red thong that has managed to get caught in the wheel of your suitcase.
“shut up, i’m helping you.” you grumble, balling up the lace and burying it at the bottom of the case.
“why is it ferrari coloured? something you wanna tell me? do you think charles is… foxy? or is it fred? oh, i bet it’s fred, isn’t it.” he’s laughing now, loud and boisterous, and if it wasn’t for the butterflies erupting in your belly at the sound, you would have throttled him.
“i’ll leave you to bleed out.” you tease back, pointing at the dried up blood across his knuckles.
“of course, i am in urgent need of medical attention!” he exclaims sarcastically, clutching his hand. you roll your eyes.
“you know where the door is.” you stand from the floor, carrying a little square antiseptic wipe with you.
“yeah, i do. feel like staying now, though. i’m just so comfy.”
and with that, he throws himself back on your bed, closing his eyes as he sinks into the mattress.
you stare at him for a second, noticing the way his eyelashes dust the tops of his cheeks, his tanned, thick neck peeks out from in between the undone buttons of his dress shirt. you exhale shakily, moving to sit beside him on the bed.
“give me your hand.” you instruct him, tearing the packet open and unfolding the wipe.
“romantic.” lando snarks. you shove his shoulder in response. he holds his hand out.
“whatever.” you sigh, avoiding eye contact as you run the wipe over his knuckles. you can see how they are already tinged purple, wincing at the idea that it is your fault.
“what is it?” lando asks, noticing.
you don’t respond. this proximity is odd, you can’t quite tell yet if you like it. what you do know is that you certainly don’t know how to handle him now that the alcohol is wearing off and you’re left tending to the wounds of a man that you could have sworn you didn’t like.
“so that’s how it’s gonna be? we’re going back to the silent treatment again?” lando scoffs.
“don’t know what to say.” you mutter, keeping your eyes trained on every line and indent of his knuckles.
“why do you hate me so much?”
“i don’t.”
“yes, you do.” he scoffs.
“i don’t think about you enough to hate you.” you lie. it’s cruel. he winces.
that shuts him up.
“i’m gonna go. thanks for this.” lando waves his hand and you feel a wave of guilt hit.
“no, fuck, i’m sorry.” you apologise, bowing your head. “stay.”
“i’ll stay if you tell me why you hate me.”
“i’ve never hated you, lan. haven’t always particularly liked you but i never, ever hated you.”
“okay.”
that’s all it takes for him to flop back onto the bed. some unexplainable instinct that you loathe has you crawling onto the bed beside him. you wrap your arms around your pillow, watching him watch you.
“i used to have such a big crush on you, you know.” lando says. you stare at him blankly.
“what?”
“yep. i think i was about 15. you were the first girl i ever really liked that way.” he smiles, recalling the memory. “it kinda sucked because i knew you wouldn’t even look at me twice but it’s funny thinking back to that time.”
~ 15
he watches the way her hair gets caught in the breeze as she takes off her helmet. two messy braids are shaken free, and his heart skips a beat or two, or seven, when she turns around with the biggest grin on her face.
she’s just won a race, another one, and he’d be so jealous if it wasn’t her.
he thinks she’s the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. george and alex go over to her, congratulating her, hugging her. he wishes he could do that. he definitely can’t.
she doesn’t see him, the only times that she does are when they argue, when they push eachother off the track and scream at one another across a gravel trap. the times when she plants her pointed finger in his chest and calls him dirty, the times he gets heated and calls her something he doesn’t mean under his breath. and she always hears him. always. he watches her eyes pool with tears every single time.
he wants her, in a way he’s never wanted anyone before. he’s never felt like this, wonders how he can make it go away. she hates him. she must.
he can never have her, so why even try?
~
“i had no idea you ever felt that way.” you’re quite shocked, really. you knew that you had this intensely charged sexual tension between you now, but you had failed to realise how far back this all went.
mutually, at least.
“i’d say i’ve done a pretty good job of hiding it.” his smile changes slightly. it was now a sad smile, one that conveys disappointment in himself, and that you hated to see. it reminds you of the one you’ve gotten used to seeing on your social media feed after he’d had a shitty race.
you sigh, bracing yourself for what you are about to say.
“you’re not the only one who hid it.” you raise an eyebrow, your face says ‘guilty!’
“no?” lando’s eyes widen at your revelation.
“i think we were 13. you gave me half a cookie to apologise for pushing me off track.” you smile coyly. “it’s kinda sad but 13 year old me died inside.” you laugh.
“so, we’ve both… liked each other.” lando assesses. you nod.
“when did you stop?” you inquire, scanning his face. you take in each detail, each individual freckle, the curve of his lips. he seems closer, all of the sudden, and that’s when you realise you’ve closed the space between you. lando is within reach now, it would have been so, so incredibly easy to shift even closer still; it was like you were in his gravitational field, reeled in by pretty, pretty eyes.
“who said i stopped?”
“oh.” you breathe.
~ 13
he snaps the crumbly biscuit between his fingers, trails towards her awkwardly. he feels bad, feels a strange pang in his chest that he doesn’t recognise.
he finds her around the back of her parents car, arms crossed, eyebrows scrunched, pouting hard. he thinks she’s cute.
“why are you here?” she whines.
“this is for you. i know it doesn’t make up for the race. i didn’t mean to take you out, i swear.”
he sounds panicked, sincere. her tummy turns funny.
he’s holding out a cookie, the children’s equivalent of an olive branch.
her face softens. she accepts it. they bite into their cookies at the same time.
it’s not the worst day in the world anymore.
~
messy kisses and soft whispers lull you to sleep.
his nose bumps yours every time your lips meet, gentle and plush.
you feel delicate in his arms, treasured. his lips press gently to your hairline. he’s different, softer than you’ve seen him since you were teenagers splitting cookies.
it’s the easiest thing in the world to curl into his side, mould together until you’re part of him, and drift off.
-
the heat wakes you up.
you stir, eyes fluttering open, searching for the source of the onslaught of warmth. it clicks quickly, and you realise that you hadn’t dreamt the events of the night before.
lando is in your bed.
lando had protected you.
lando had wanted you since you were stupid kids who didn’t know any better.
he is the heater that had woken you up, and suddenly you don’t care that you’re far too hot. you curl back into his side, head rests on his chest. it rises and falls softly, his heartbeat thrums beneath your ear. you are jealous of how pretty he looks when he’s asleep, relaxed and infatuating. you lose track of time, gazing up at him.
a sharp pain in your side makes you groan. you had fallen asleep in your dress, lando in his jeans and his shirt, and now you’re paying for it, your fingers searching for the zipper that was now digging into your side. your movements draw him out of his slumber, and when you look back at him, he’s watching you, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“you okay?” lando croaks, his voice deep and sleepy. it sends shockwaves through you.
“mhm. how did you sleep?” you ask, mindlessly running your hand over his jaw like it was the most natural thing in the world. a smile breaks out across his face, eyes fluttering shut once more.
“really fucking well.” he laughs, almost in disbelief.
“yeah, me too.” you smile at him, shy.
“what’s bothering you?”
“well, a human heater woke me up and now this fucking zipper is killing me.” you joke. it’s weird that this doesn’t feel weird.
“i am pretty hot i guess.”
“yeah, yeah.” you roll your eyes and stand from the bed.
lando sits up, resting on his elbows. his eyes follow you as you walk around the room. you take a bottle of water, drinking half of it before passing it to him. his lips wrap around the bottle and you have to turn away, the ache between your legs that you’d been fighting for months rearing it’s irritating head. you clear your throat, composing yourself.
“need to get this dress off.”
lando pulls himself off of the mattress, stalking towards you. you stop in your tracks and he meets you at the foot of the bed. his hands find your cheeks, thumbs smoothing over your skin in little circles, and then kisses you deeper than he did last night.
it’s impossible not to melt into him, hands running over his chest, his shoulders, and finally finding solace tangled in his curls. if someone told you the morning before that you’d wake up in lando’s arms, you would have cackled, urged them to seek medical attention, and probably spat in their face. how things change.
“i think you should keep it on, look so pretty.” lando breathes, staring down at you. you blush hard, leaning into him.
“but i’m uncomfortable.” you grin coyly. and then, a surge of confidence has you whispering: “i’ll let you take it off if you want.”
“let me make you comfortable first.” lando murmurs, dipping his head down until it rests in the crook of your neck. “want me to get you nice and comfortable, baby?” he kisses up your neck.
you cave, finally.
it takes him all of thirty seconds to have you spread out on his face, laying himself down on the mattress and pulling you on top of him so that you’re hovering over his lips. he mouthes at your panties for a second, getting his first taste of you, and then he drags them to the side, clearing a path. his tongue laves over your cunt, groaning as soon as he gets a proper taste.
your dress fans out over your thighs, and lando has disappeared beneath the fabric. you can tell he’s there, though, by the strong hands gripping onto your thighs, the tuft of curls peeking out, and the feeling of his nose bumping your clit as he buries his face deeper and deeper between your folds.
“lando.” you cry, throwing your head back. the straps of your dress are slipping down your arms, skimming your goosebump ridden skin. he just groans into your pussy in response, pulling you impossibly closer to his mouth, backwards and forwards until you’re grinding down on his willing tongue. you reach down blindly, grabbing one of his hands where it rests on your thigh, and your other threads through his hair, gripping tight as you revel in the pleasure.
lando pulls your clit between his teeth, grazing over the bud and you’re jolting, writhing above him. you feel like you’re going to die, heat pricking all over your skin, your tummy tight from the building orgasm. he’s so eager, sliding his entire face through your slippery folds, obscene sounds falling from his lips that ricochet through your quivering body.
tears prick your eyes when you finally let go, slumping forwards from the overwhelming sensation taking over every single nerve. he lifts you off of him, laying you back on the bed as you come down from your high.
“you okay, baby?” he coos, brushing sweat dampened hair from your eyes.
his lips are stained, dark pink and shiny, a mixture of enthusiasm and your slick coating them. lando scans your watery eyes, feral at how fucked out you look all because of him, and tantalisingly licks his lips.
“need you.” you moan, reaching out for him. his shirt is wrinkled where he’d slept in it and your shaky hands find the few buttons that are actually done up. you push the material off of his shoulders, pupils blown wide at the sight of his toned chest, at the feel of smooth, golden skin. you pull him in by the shoulders, swallowing him whole as you kiss him with everything you’ve got left.
lando’s hands find your thighs once more, running his hands over them to push your dress up your hips.
“wanted this for so long.” he whispers into the kiss, pulling away so that he can take the dress off of you. he looks ravenous the more he pushes the fabric up your body.
you feel vulnerable under his intense gaze, watchful eyes taking in every movement you make. you try to pull him back in for another kiss but he resists.
“let me look at you, please?” lando asks. “there you go, baby, let’s get this off, hmm?” he sits you up so that he can get it over your head, and you lay back, bare aside from your panties that he’d left in disarray.
he sucks in a breath, raking his eyes over the curve of your lips, your collarbone, the slope of your breasts. his gaze lingers there for just a second, before continuing further over your belly, the length of your legs. you want to hide away, pull him in so that he can’t look at you like this, or just dive under the duvet and stay there until you need to catch your flight.
“god, you’re so, so fucking beautiful.” he gasps, awestruck. he sounds speechless, and you feel yourself going red again.
“come here.” you whine. “needed you for so long.”
your admission seems to kick him into action, because seconds later, he’s on top of you, fingers grazing the band of your underwear while you fiddle with the button on his jeans.
“gonna be good for me, aren’t you?” lando stares you down, tone sending a shiver down your spine. you nod, batting your eyelashes. “words, my love.”
“yes, lando.” you affirm, arching into him. that’s all he needs to know, kicking his jeans away, boxers too.
“good girl. took care of me so well last night, now ‘m gonna take such good care of you.”
your eyes skim his body, honing in on how hard he is. your hand finds his cock, tentative at first, stroking over it softly. it’s heavy in your hands, red and dripping already. he wants this just as bad as you do. you continue to jerk him off, watching the way his eyes squeeze shut and his lips part, soft pants falling out. a low hum sounds from the back of his throat, and you wet your lips, threading your free hand through his hair.
lando opens his eyes at the sensation, gently batting your hand away. he dips down even closer, resting on one of his forearms. he lines himself up and your legs wrap around him instinctively. slowly, he pushes inside of you, his breath catching in his throat.
“fucking hell.” he groans, deep and guttural, something carnal sending shockwaves through his body. “been dreaming about all the ways i’d get to fuck you.”
your eyes roll back and you go languid in his arms, feeling every inch of him slide against your slick walls.
“want you.” you rasp, clinging to him, your fingernails leaving patterns between his taut shoulder blades as you beg for it.
“you have me, baby.” and then he kisses you, messy and slow, stealing the air from your lungs. you’re dizzy when he pulls away, sitting back slightly to change the angle. you cry out, feeling him even deeper and everything is more sensitive, warm. you roll your hips, meeting his thrusts deliciously, and he chokes out a moan as you clamp around him. “yeah, that’s it. fuck yourself like that for me.” he encourages.
this is all too much, too good. you have whiplash, physically and emotionally, eyes pooling with tears as the man you’d wanted so badly that you hated him for it rocks into you. lando hits the right spot every time he pistons his hips harder, and his nimble fingers slide up your abdomen, applying light pressure to your navel that makes you writhe.
“fucking perfect for me. gorgeous.” lando slurs, entranced by the sight of where you’re joined. he can see just how wet you are and it drives him insane, barrelling into you like a man possessed, drunk on every single way that your body responds to him.
his wandering hand finds your breast, kneading it before he traces your nipple. he watches the way it hardens at his manipulation, wetting his lips. he collapses back on top of you, sucking the bud into his mouth. you’re panting, whining beneath him as his tongue swirls over your chest, switching to the other side. you jolt, a silent scream scratching your throat when he slips his hand between your thighs, working your clit with the pad of his thumb. he’s rutting against you, grinding deeper, faster, uncontrollably.
“come on, baby. you’re so close, so tight for me.” he mutters into your skin. you nod frantically, your words lost on you. he kisses over your collarbone, the base of your throat, until he finds your lips.
“so close.” you sigh.
he stops.
“tell me you’re all mine.” lando growls, his entire demeanour changing. the tone of his voice almost finishes you off but you’re suddenly enraged. you’re too close for him to stop.
“c’mon lando.” you hiss, trying to move your hips but he has you firmly in place.
“need to hear you say it.” his hand slithers over your chest, finding a new home at the base of your throat. it makes you throb, the way his thick fingers wrap around you. slowly, his grip tightens, and you see an opportunity.
you buck your hips hard, whimpering at the sensation, but your plan works and now you hover over him. he’s still buried inside you, and you can feel him pulsing as you steal control.
“for once in your life, honey, shut the fuck up.” you smirk, mischievous in victory.
slowly, you build up your rhythm. he feels bigger like this, deeper, and you almost lose yourself in the small circles you make with your hips.
“knew you’d be like this. you liked giving yourself to me but i just knew you’d need to take back control.” lando teases. his hand is back around your neck, squeezing slowly, and you grind frantically, dizzy for him. “i was right last night, wasn’t i, baby? pretending to be my good girl when really,” he pulls you down so that you’re chest to chest. “you’re just a fucking brat.”
lando holds you close as he fucks up into you, feeling the way you go limp on top of him as the pleasure washes over you like a million electric shocks. you’re crying, tears pooling on his chest, because there is nothing you can do, nothing you want to do, but take it. he’s got you right where he wants you, and you’re loving every fucking second of it.
“yeah, baby, take it how you want it.” lando commands through gritted teeth, and you move your hips in a feeble attempt to match his speed. everything is slippery, everything feels wet and flushed.
the power play, the position, the frenzy he seems to be in as he fucks you, it all has you gushing, spilling all over him. you choke out a sob, shuddering as the elastic band in your belly snaps. lando stops his thrusts, replacing them with small rolls of his hips to help you through your orgasm.
a sharp breath and a string of curses from him give you the strength to muster the last little bits of energy you have left to look up at him. you pull your head up off of his chest just in time to watch him shatter into a million little pieces.
his neck flexes as his head rolls back, sinking into the pillow, his eyes tight. swollen lips part and your name falls from between them like a prayer. you can feel him filling you up, his hands tightening their hold on your hips like he’s scared to let go, like the world will stop if he does.
the world stops anyway, because then you’re looking at each other. really looking at each other.
it only takes a second for you to be drawn in and his hands leave your hips to cup your face. his calloused hands feel your skin, stroking over rosy patches on your cheeks. it’s deathly silent all around you, apart from the breathless pants you share.
swollen lips crash hard into yours and you melt. he’s still buried so deeply inside of you, your hips digging into his, impossibly close. you’re blindly reaching for any part of him you can get your hands on, and his big hands slide down your body until they meet the small of your back. ever so carefully, he flips you onto your back, easing your spent body into the mattress.
lando collapses on top of you, mouthes at your neck for a moment, delicate kisses making your eyes flutter shut. the eye contact almost sends you into cardiac arrest as he pulls out, oh so slowly. tease.
he holds you close in the shower, fingers massaging every part of you. sex and sweat are washed away, almost lovingly. you let the water run for far too long, content in clinging to him. it’s quiet, reflective time for both of you, exactly what it needs to be. you’re both hung up on questions that need to be asked, neither one of you brave enough to take the first steps. you know one thing, and one thing only: something has changed, in a forever kind of way.
your hair is stringy, half dry, and you’re stood in your underwear. your legs are still shaky.
“your flight soon?” lando asks. he’s stood in his boxers on the other side of the room, scrunching the water out of his curls.
“yeah.” your throat feels raw.
“and you’re going back to monaco?” he’s stopped what he’s doing now, staring at you. you can see the cogs turning behind his eyes.
you nod.
“fancy a sleepover?” he grins, boyish and careless. your heart falls to your feet.
you’re giggling when he sweeps you into his arms and kisses you into the freshly made bed. the sheets are on the floor by the time you finally remember you have a flight to catch.
you’re his now, you realise. he’s too beautiful for his own damn good.
-
“baby?” you hear lando call from his bedroom. you make out the faint sound of his footsteps making their way in your direction. he appears before you can even answer him, and he’s smiling softly at the sight of you bundled up in a blanket, sprawled across his couch.
“what is it?” you ask. the next thing you know he’s on top of you, peppering kisses over every single inch of skin he can get to on your face. “hey, get off, muppet.” you whine playfully, ruffling his hair.
“do you know how much i love having you here?” he murmurs. it’s endearing as fuck and you fight a foolish, dopey grin.
“you’ve mentioned once or twice…” you’ve been here since your flight touched down a week ago. you haven’t even been home to get clothes, not that you needed them in his company.
“we might have a teeny, tiny issue.” he squints, pulling a face.
“and what’s that?” you ask, your voice measuring equal parts cautious and amused.
“so, alex called…”
“oh, shit.”
“we have to go to dinner tonight.”
“we have to?”
“he’s suspicious as fuck. you do realise they’ve been plotting for us to happen for years,” you roll your eyes as if you say duh. “and also, you’ve been in monaco for a week and haven’t seen him once. oh, and also, the last time we saw them, we were running away from a fucking crime scene.” lando smiles sarcastically, and you sigh, defeated.
before you can reply, your phone is ringing somewhere beside you. you root around in your blanket searching for it and when you find it:
“son of a bitch.” you exclaim, showing lando the caller ID. alex is one persistent motherfucker.
“hey girl.” alex singsongs down the phone before you can even say hello.
“hello to you too.” you can hear the fear in your own voice.
“dinner. tonight. although, i’m sure lando already told you.” alex teases.
“why would lando have told me? what?” you choke. lando slaps his hand over his face. your voice has gone up several octaves. not suspicious at all.
“so, you’re at home? you haven’t been at his place since last week?” the playful interrogation begins.
“why would i be with lando?” you try and feign disgust at the implication. it does not work.
“because you hate fucked after he beat up that perv? i have to say, i didn’t think he had it in him but he’s been in love with you since he was like, ten, so, you know-”
“bye alex.”’
“you’re not denying it-“
“bye alex!”
you’re flaming red when you throw the phone to the other end of the sofa. lando, as on brand as ever, is cackling into a pillow.
“he is such a fucking shit stirrer.” you bury your face in your hands, slumping back into the fuzzy cushions.
“well, he’s right about one thing.” lando trails off. suddenly he’s looking anywhere but you and you see him gulp, hard, swallowing his words, like he’s too afraid to bare his soul.
“huh?” you ask gently, sitting up to reach out for him. “what’s wrong?”
“we need to get ready for dinner. that’s what he’s right about.” lando says, standing from the sofa and walking towards his room. you’re suspicious, watching him go with furrowed eyebrows.
-
“lando, behave! you’re the one making me go to this dinner.” you squeal, batting his restless hands away.
you’ve made it as far as the elevator before he pounces on you, caging you in against the metal walls.
“but you look so good, can’t help myself.” he mutters between kisses on your neck, pressing himself even further into you.
the hand that finds it’s way between your legs, exploring beyond the hem of your skirt, is the one that makes you press the button for his floor. why have plans when you can have sex?
he gets through the door to his apartment at lighting speed and carries you all the way to his bed.
when you’re sweating and breathless a good hour later, half of the bedding on the floor with your clothes, you realise you never cancelled your plans.
lando is drawing shapes into the bare skin of your arm, kissing over your shoulder as he does so. his eyes are dropping from all of the over-exertion and you want to count each and every freckle on his face while he falls asleep. he’s cute like this, soft and yours.
and idea comes to your mind, and as if he can see the lightbulb, lando half raises an eyebrow at you. you giggle, somewhat evilly perhaps, and scramble for your phone on the beside table.
“what’re you doing?” lando groans, pouting as his outstretched arms try to find you.
“getting even.” you state.
with the phone in your clutches, you roll back over towards him, holding the camera above you both. he hears the shutter sound as you snap the picture, and peers closer to see the screen. when he sees the groupchat open, he quickly understands what you’re plotting.
“may i?” you ask for his consent.
“are you kidding? go for it. that’ll shut them up.” he laughs sleepily, muttering something about how this is the most lando thing you’ve ever done
FROM: you
TO: the groupchat
1 image attached
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couldn’t make dinner. something came up xx
“alex always thinks he’s right, this’ll teach him for being such a little shit.” you flop back into bed even more satisfied than you were before.
you hear lando inhale shakily beside you.
“he is right sometimes you know.” he repeats his earlier words.
you hold your breath. his eyes say so many things that are too delicate to be spoken yet.
“like… like what he said on the phone?” your voice quivers with anticipation, fear. your heart is thunderous, hammering away like it wants to escape the clutches of its cage.
“yeah. i-“ he stops himself. you don’t need him to finish, you know which two words follow. they can follow in good time, you both know it.
“me too, lando.” you coo.
he’s beaming, eyes half shut. you watch as he falls asleep, the both of you ignoring the way your phones are vibrating so aggressively that they might buzz their way off of the night stand. you lose count of his freckles, but it doesn’t matter.
you’ll have plenty of time to figure it out.
-
let me know what you think :D
-
taglist
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cutetanuki-chan · 10 months
Text
wanna compile all arts on marcanne mermaid au 
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story:
Marcy's a mermaid, and Anne lives in the town near the sea, they met when they're kids and Anne was fishing with her dad near the shore, while he went away for a bit something caught on the fishing rod, Anne tried to pull it out but it was too heavy so she peaked underwater and saw Marcy
that's when her father came back, so Anne pretended that she drooped the fishing rod into the sea, she got scolded for it cause it was a pretty expensive one, but later that evening Marcy came to give it back while Anne was sitting sulking on the docks
so they started hanging out after that, Anne tried to explain that's dangerous to swim around here since there's a lot of fishermens, she showed her one underwater cave not so far away from her home and Marcy snuggled there Marcy can turn into a human but only with a potion, and one of the ingredients for it grows only in one place near Anne's town, but the other in deepwaters, so from time to time Marcy had to swim away for some days to get it, she always brings a lot of pretty stuff she found in the sea to Anne
also if too much water gets on her feet she'll turn back to mermaid again, and potion isn't permanent, just for a several days
Anne works as a delivery guy, riding around the town on her scooter, delivers her parent's stuff and Plantars’ and whatever town's folks might ask
Marcy and Anne dating now, but only Anne and Sprig(maybe Polly too) knows Marcy's a mermaid, nobody from the town has no idea (Mr and Mrs B knows too but Anne doesn't know that)
one day mayor of the town strikes a pretty good deal with one company to build one of their branches in the town, and together with this Waybrights who works for this company come to live to town
but construction means that some of the plants that Marcy needs for the potion might get destroyed and who knows, maybe with time water near the town won't be as clean as before
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neopuppy · 10 months
Text
Puppy Pound (M)
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preview. “You have to understand pup, I can’t risk coming home to you destroying every inch of furniture again. Your last rut was really.. something.”
Unlatching the metal collar he hasn’t had to use since Jeno’s first year away from the kennel, Renjun eyes him apologetically. “We have to do this, at least until she’s ready.”
Jeno whimpers, head drooping down as his owner locks the metal collar around his neck, safely storing the key away in his pocket before scratching through the hybrids nape. “Come on pup, into the woods before it gets too dark.”
pairing. dog hybrid Jeno x female dog hybrid reader
genre. hybrid AU, a/b/o subgenders, pwop, M/F, my contribution to the ‘quiet down’ glass box enthusiasts(we finally got Jeno INSIDE🤭)
warnings. profanity, use of ‘pup/puppy’, Renjun’s only here to be a stressed out hybrid caretaker, smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.
wc. 8000
now playing. Puppy Pound//Jazmin Bean
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smut warnings. puppy rut, prey/predator vibes, restraints, leashing, masturbation, whining, cum eating, biting, choking(‘scruffing’), use of ‘bitch’(once or twice srry), painful orgasm, oral, barbed cock(ex: monsterfucking), knotting, cum inflation, unprotected vaginal sex
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“I hate doing this to you pup.”
Renjun sighs with a frown worrying his lips as he gently combs through Jeno’s soft coat. The hybrid had escaped again last night, laid out naked in the backyard with dazed eyes, his blond hair a mess, tail covered in leaves and branches. It could only mean one thing..
“I don’t want to have to muzzle you, but I can’t have you staying here during your rut.”
Jeno whines, pawing at Renjun’s chest with enlarged doe eyes blacked out by his hormones taking over, eliminating the usual tender hues of brown. “I know I know, but you’ve been a real bad boy as of late, haven’t you?”
Instead of answering Jeno proceeds to grumble, swapping his act of innocence for a sleek glare at his owner. The look earning a nervous laugh from the smaller man. “You have to understand pup, I can’t risk coming home to you destroying every inch of furniture again. Your last rut was really.. something.”
Unlatching the metal collar he hasn’t had to use since Jeno’s first year away from the kennel, Renjun eyes him apologetically. “We have to do this, at least until she’s ready.”
Jeno whimpers, head drooping down as his owner locks the metal collar around his neck, safely storing the key away in his pocket before scratching through the hybrids nape to comfort. “Come on pup, into the woods before it gets too dark.”
Renjun hates doing this, he really does, but he knew there could be consequences when he adopted Jeno. The kennel had been very adamant in instructing that he was no average dog hybrid.
‘Part Dobberman? Is that even possible?’
‘He’s a mutant, a mutt but worse. Those damn humans that treat hybrids like god damn toys instead of pets. They were force breeding all types of strains to create some abnormally powerful Alpha dog.’
‘Alpha dog?’
‘Yeah, that’s how Jeno was developed. Samoyed mother ravaged by Dobberman hybrids until she finally gave birth to a litter. He was the only one that survived.. if not for our facilities taking down their set-up who knows where he’d be now. Probably beaten to death by preys much stronger and larger than him in the underground boxing world.’
Jeno’s always been special, even more so because he’s such a unique hybrid. The first time Renjun laid eyes on him he knew he had to bring him home to take care of, even after the hybrid stood to his full size and his cute puppy face suddenly became overshadowed by the expanse of his muscular arms and wide chest.
Even now with a solemn expression wearing the puppies face down Renjun can’t help the pangs in his chest watching his overgrown pup sulk on the trek through the woods. “I’ll bring you back home once your ruts over okay?”
Jeno avoids his gaze, glaring at the glass box with chains inside from corner to corner that he’d been made to sleep in once Renjun realized his hybrid was the one behind the alarming amount of missing neighborhood cats. After discussions and much contemplation with the hybrid clinic they’d settled upon locking Jeno up at night, at least until he became accustomed to wild-life outside of his own. The glass case had done wonders to help him learn resistance and self-restraint to not cause harm, as naive and innocent as his actions were even doing so.
“How about I buy all of your favorite jellies too?” Renjun crouches down, smiling at the hybrid as he begins to unlock the case. He’d come out to clean it yesterday, still covered with remnants of Jeno’s fur from years prior.
“It’s not fair.”
Jeno kicks at leaves and dirt, pouting as he sways and avoids his owner's gaze. “I know it may seem that way Jeno, but she hasn’t ever been bred before. What if I’m at work again when it happens? I can’t take time off just to make sure my hybrids act civil and don’t mate all over my house.”
“I wouldn’t mate her.” Jeno snaps, quietly voicing off ‘yet’ in his head. “But you got her for me! Why can’t I—“
“Because.” Renjun interrupts. “The vet said she’s not ready for..” he motions lower toward the hybrids groin. “That.”
Jeno scoffs, finally taking a look at the case that Renjun at least had the decency to set up with a blanket and pillow this time. Not that it mattered much, despite the last days of Winter still making nights chilly, the hybrids not worried too much about it. “Body heat keeps me warm you know, especially during my rut.”
“I know.” Renjun smiles softly. “I feel so bad putting you out here, but after the last time...”
“She was begging for it.” Jeno rolls his eyes, entering the glass case before he becomes too riled up.
“I believe you Jeno!” Renjun has to ready himself to hoist up one of the chains, struggling slightly with a grimace as he squats and shoves back up, nearly losing his footing.
“I can do it myself.” Jeno grabs the heavy chain metal from his owners hands, glaring as he attaches one to the ring of his collar.
“…it’s heavy, doesn’t it hurt?”
Jeno sighs, hooking the other chain to himself allowing Renjun to lock them in place, the restraint only leaving him with enough room to turn and take a few steps, but not enough to leave the box once closed shut.
“Nothing hurts more than spending my rut alone.” He grumbles, shooting bullets at Renjun with his next sharp look.
The smaller chuckles uncomfortably, anxiously bouncing on his heels as he reaches to shake the chains and insure they’re not going anywhere. “The vet says she’ll be ready soon. Maybe by your next rut things will be different.”
Jeno grinds his teeth to hold himself back from responding full of attitude. The vet can suck it, frankly. He knows you’re ready, you practically ate him alive when your heat hit last time. As much as he wants to believe Renjun’s genuinely concerned for your safety, his Alpha can’t help but patronize him with constant nonsense that their owner is lying, because he wants you all to himself.
“I’ll stop by to drop off some food in the morning before I head to work, you should be fine until then right pup?”
Jeno nods, allowing for Renjun to shut the glass box with him fully trapped inside. The contraption akin to some type of ridiculous Harry Houdini magic trick, except this one didn’t include a trick door to sneak out of for a grandiose reveal.
“Forgive me, okay pup?” Renjun’s frown returns, watching the hybrid with a gloomy expression. Jeno doesn’t want him to think he hates him, but he can’t help to appear irritated the more his need to fuck and breed rises.
“It’s fine.” He grumbles, laying back into the soft blanket with a stiff neck. The metal collar not too heavy for someone with his inhumane amount of strength, moreso annoying the longer he has to wear it.
“You promise?”
Jeno laughs while turning off to the side and shaking his head. “Yeah yeah, I promise, but I fully expect a huge bag of jellies after this.”
“You got it.” Renjun winks, reaching for the set of keys in his pocket. “It’s time.”
Jeno nods, watching as his owner locks him up, scatter brained by the memories of the month he spent doing the same with a remorseful look and his head hung between his shoulders while he backed away and headed home.
The rational human side of himself knows it’s for the best really, you needed stitches last time after trying to take his full size for the first time. The thought of it licks up his back, jerking at his waist as bubbling heat runs through his cock.
You insisted he keep going, he just wanted to feel you a little is all.. but you were too fucking tight. Fists ball up at his hips the more he recalls your wrecked angelic face, tongue hung out like the thirsty puppy you are, wet eyes smiling in spite of the tears tracking down your cheeks.
He can still taste your sweet and salty tears on the tip of his tongue, dragging it between his teeth just to force out any remaining saliva that might still carry traces of your scent.
Renjun has to be home by now, the walks not too far out, just enough that if he somehow manages to escape the collar alarm would give him enough time to lock you up before he can reach the house.
The reminder around his throat only angers him more as he sucks on his drool and fools himself that he can still taste your spit, your arousal trickling down his fingers, and your sweet sweet honey-like tears.
Whining to himself, his eyebrows scrunch together unhappily, it's too early to feel this out of control; but this is what you do to him. It’s what you’ve done to him since the day Renjun brought him back to the kennel after experiencing how terrible Jeno’s ruts truly are.
The clinic advised him to send the dog hybrid away to ‘rut breeding centers’, but they wanted nothing to do with a hybrid such as Jeno; time and time again rejecting his applications until Renjun received a flat out ‘no’ due to the hybrids mutated breed.
It all seemed hopeless until the first time he saw you, frolicking out on the grass with your pretty multi-toned coat shining under the sun. The smile on your face beaming brighter than the sky above you, tail swishing in slow motion as you ran around playing fetch with one of the trainers.
‘That one.’ Jeno said with his nose pressed up to the window, starry-eyed and one second away from drooling.
‘Oh the Siberian is not up for adoption.’
Jeno’s attention snapped to the facility chief fast enough to cause whiplash, baring his teeth in a growl as Renjun jumped before him to create a wall between the two.
‘Why is that?’
‘She’s to be put up for auction later this week, we already have a family interested in her willing to pay thous—‘
‘I’ll pay more.’ Renjun interrupted sternly, gripping at the hybrid ready to blow a gasket behind him. ‘Please, please consider my offer. I’m willing to pay above market price.’
Jeno sighs, ignoring the twitch in his cock as he calms and reminds himself that his owner would do anything for him, even wipe out his savings to satisfy the hybrids insatiable need to fuck and claim.
He just has to be patient.
Not that you make it any easier for him.
No, you made it damn near impossible to control his Alpha. A purebred female Siberian husky, equipped with many of the usual attributes from your animal side, down to the unique heterochromia iridis. The different tones of gorgeous colorful pools that stared at him daily only amplified each fascinated blink, curious longing gaze and coy lustful stare you reserved just for him.
Ah, she makes it hard for me.
A lot of things really, the way his heart rate speeds up whenever you sneak to his bed and burrow into his arms, the way you chase him around and chew on his neck leaving light teeth marks behind, and the way your scent stains every spot around the house that Jeno’s already claimed and thoroughly scented. You make it so hard for him to not bend you over every surface and impale you with his knot until you beg to be mated, claimed and owned.
It’s no secret you’ve been attracted to the Alpha before ever even meeting. From the day Renjun brought you home and initially warmed you up to the hybrids scent by bringing some of Jeno’s clothes along, the attraction was instantaneous upon the first whiff, curiously sniffing around for more of the scent full of testosterone and power.
Finally arriving at your new home only reaffirmed your assumptions, Jeno’s every bit the strong domineering Alpha you’d expected, but he’s special..
While his Dobberman side made him all sharp edged, lethal and territorial, his Samoyed side magnified how irritatingly cute he is, caring and loving even when he wants to be mad at you for pulling on his tail and ears. Jeno could never really get mad at you, instead becoming more playful in your presence, tackling you down gently until you become a meshed pile of laughter and painfully stretched out cheeks. The two of you routinely bathe in each other’s licks to the point that Renjun grimaces when you crush your damp cheeks against his when you thrash into him for a hug, the residue of Jeno’s saliva left smeared behind each time.
He knows deep down inside it will be worth the wait when you’re ready, even if it hurts him now. Even if it means another rut weeping into his palm, the bone crushing feral pain to fuck becoming harder and harder to endure each time. Renjun couldn’t stand watching his hybrid try to recover from another rut alone, but Jeno chose you.. and you had come from a strict Husky farm that bred only pure hybrids. While this was great and ethical considering the ever growing percentage of hybrids that have ended up abused or overly sexualized, it wasn’t ideal for his extremely sex-driven hybrid, but Jeno insisted it had to be you.
Journeying through the muddy haze that's begun to cloud his thoughts, he takes a deep breath and succumbs to the urge to touch himself. It won’t be enough, it’s never enough..
Jeno’s fingers graze across the collar, shivering down his forearm as they meet the cold metal. He knows if he really needed to he could easily break through it, as long as the reason was worth it..
You are worth it though, he thinks, humming to himself; softly stroking down the expanse of his exposed collarbone to mimic the way you caress him when you think he’s asleep. He knows when you’re there, staring at him with those large two-toned dolly eyes, tracing his broad chest between the divets of defined muscle and bone.
The rough pads of his fingers can only do so much, Jeno squeezes his eyes shut, slowly reaching for the waistband of his sweats. He plays with the scrunched material for a moment, reminiscing the strong scent of melted sugar, decadent rich chocolate, syrupy sweet as he lapped the mess off your inner thighs. A low growl rumbles up his chest, finally diving in to encompass his clothed erection. The heat radiating off his length burns through the material of his briefs, palm sweltering as he hisses and forces himself to crush the material around himself.
Fuck, it’s hot.
Jeno can see his deep breath’s fog up the glass, turning his face to the side to contain a moan. He’s barely touched himself and feels ready to burst, an invisible string tugs his spine, threading through his thighs past the filled up sack pulsating there. It trails up, dragged through his length to the tip where he’s pathetically soaking wet. Precum’s made a mess of his briefs, the head of his cock outlined perfectly by the darkened thin cloth drenched over his slit, the girthy mushroom cap shape would terrify most, but he can’t stop picturing the way your face lit up the first time you accidentally walked in on him after a shower.
Jeno gasps, playing with himself by prodding at the wet covered slit, a string of thin wetness attaches to his digit causing his knees to shake. Jerking off hasn’t been the same since you moved in, while he used to do fine with stroking himself once a day, it’s become a time-consuming pass-time with you around.
‘Can I touch?’
You asked so innocently, jaw hung as he stepped out of the shower and patted down his warm skin flushed in shades of pink and red. Flaccid cock jerking on his thigh the second he opened his eyes and spotted you at the door stood still from the shock.
‘You want to?’
Jeno had to bite back a cocky smile threatening to stretch his lips, leading you to sit on the bathroom counter he moved to stand between your thighs, nodding for you to untie the damp towel hanging low on his hips.
‘Is this okay?’ The light touch of your nails tapped along his chest, leisurely gliding down between the etched lines of his contracting stomach muscles. Hot and smooth after thoroughly exfoliating and moisturizing in the shower, needing to take the edge off after watching your AM at home pilates class.
Jeno can feel himself convulse, his hollowed stomach sucking in as he reaches to yank his cock free, tugging his balls above the material of his bottoms for some relief. He groans, just testing the weight, imagining your weaker wrist bending back. The way his length masked nearly the entirety of your palm.
He had to help you back then, not only encourage you to wrap your hand around him, but to stroke and grip firmly, work a repeating motion around his size, to not be scared. The obscene visual of your hand barely being able to wrap around him makes his toes curl in his socks, pushing up higher in the box until the crown of his head hits the top lightly. Groaning between his pursed lips he arches up for more, body fighting his own resistance to take this slow, really draw out the experience.
The rough dryer skin wrapped around his cock will never compare to your dainty smooth hand, the way you held him so cautious and eager at the same time. Asking him ‘what now?’, he can’t believe it even now, how fucking sweet and naive you were just a few months ago; to now crawling on your knees before him, pushing your ass out fully presented begging to be filled.
Jeno twists back and forth down his size, the precum making a huge mess between his fingers, some even reaching the glass when he thrusts forward involuntarily. He can’t control the erratic gyration his hips fall into, can’t suppress an embarrassing whine from exiting his throat. It hurts so bad to know that this is it, unable to even fool himself that you’ll be there when he opens his eyes, that you’re more than just a fantasy for him to get off too and not touch.
Another grunt escapes as he vividly paints your euphoric face behind his eyes, the one you make when you lay back and expose yourself completely for him. Sucking on your finger before reaching down to spread yourself open and plead for the Alpha to use you.
‘Touch me the way I like.’
Jeno can’t breathe anymore, can’t even decipher how fast his fist is fucking up and down his length anymore, he wants to scream, cry, punch a hole through a wall, shatter the glass surrounding him.
He should have fucked you last time, should have came deep inside your womb, should have kept you plugged full of cum for days; but he got scared.
Jeno curses under his breath, feeling guilty as he fucks up into his tightened fist faster. It’s not tight enough, it’s not warm and wet sucking around his cock the way your cunt did. The screams you let out when he managed to enter you only half-way replay in his mind constantly, only wishing he could feel the pathetic excuses of punches you tried slamming against his chest; the faded scratch marks on his shoulders always bringing a smirk to his face when he spots them in his reflection.
“Fuck.” Jeno whines desperately, writhing up to thrust into you faster, give you every inch for once like you deserve. His free hand reaches to glide over the slightly raised skin, retracing the clear memory of your struggle before Renjun rushed in and barreled into him, having to use all of his weight against the hybrid to get him off of you.
Jeno never meant to hurt you, but he can’t deny how good it feels now to get off to, pulling harder and harder on his length; the massive girth pulsating against his palm with each meticulous stroke. He’d do anything to feel your pussy spread apart by his size again, just to be in you, taste your slick arousal all around him. Tears burn at the corners of his clenched eyes before he realizes, the first to drop incinerating down the side of his face.
The worst part is he’s not crying because it feels too good. He’s crying because it hurts. A watery choked sob drowns his next gasp of air, eyes fluttering open to gaze down in disbelief. Swollen from the base to the tip, his cock glares back at him, each vein pulsing angrily. The Alpha inside of him can’t take this anymore, turning on him in his weakest moment.
“Please,” Jeno’s head drops, sniffling his tears and the snot that’s begun to drip from his nose. “Hurts, please it hurts.”
He’s not sure who he’s begging anymore, himself? You? A higher power willing to spare him just this once?
The thought has him blinking up to the sky to ask if God even cares about some mutated hybrid? But the sky no longer appears clear and bright, hidden by darkness, freckled with distant stars and ash gray polluted clouds. Jeno cries harder at the realization that he’s been at this for hours, so deeply sucked into his fantasy that he feels close to hallucinating.
Another sob fights free, shivering as he works through his own pain and continues to play with himself. One hand securely wrapped around the base of his length while the other works to massage through the blood engorged girth throbbing against his palm.
If he had you here, he’d plunge deep inside of you, in and out over and over again without falter. Jeno nods, dry swallowing his next cry, rolling his head forward to find your familiar silhouette approaching slowly. Each step you take looks unreal, not even leaving footprints behind on the dirt and grass as you near the glass case, and he knows he must be going crazy now.
The ruts completely took over, blacked out eyes altering his surroundings into a fever daydream; fogging his senses, morphing him into a mindless fuck-puppy willing to do anything to reach blissed relief. It’s enough to see your face, your immaculate pretty perfect face, even with the worry behind your eyes and an upset slump weighing your shoulders down; he can feel release closer than ever.
Your head tilts, palms laid flat to the case, even wearing one of Jeno’s favorite shirts to sleep in. Unable to properly function, he doesn’t stop to ponder why you’d be wearing that let alone anything at all in his dreams. Instead he growls, pressing forward enough for his nose to crush against the glass, glaring at you with eyes that could devour.
“Alpha?”
Jeno’s body violently twitches, tugging once, twice, not even a third time at his length before aggressively spilling out one of the largest loads of cum he’s ever seen. The mess of it shoots up as he strokes and releases anguished shouts between growls, painting the glass in a creamy thick disaster.
It seems endless where you stand and watch with your jaw hung on the floor, the Alpha relentlessly pulling on his fat reddened length, the head of it near purple from hours of edging himself.
“Oh my god..” you whisper, fearfully nibbling your nails as he snaps back to your face with more black than white overtaking his gaze.
Jeno’s drooling now, his face entirely wet from crying, sniffling, spit working down to gather at the base of his thick neck.
“Alpha..” the name rolls off your tongue again, stifling your breath as you begin to tremble beneath his nefarious expression. “Al-alpha, I want to help you..”
Jeno flinches when you call for him again, his hard size not going down a bit, painfully swollen in his grasp. He topples forward, the chains leaving him no other choice than to press against the glass, the front of his sweats and cock smearing his last bits of arousal that haven’t slid down all the way.
“Touch me.” A gasp gets stuck in your throat, never seeing his mouth move despite hearing Jeno’s voice around you.
He looks wrecked, eyes half-rolled up, sweat dripping down to hang in tear drops along his defined jaw. It’s shocking to see the typically strong Alpha in this state, weak and still pumping his length uncontrollably, huffing hot breaths against the glass rapidly with each jerk around his size.
Renjun would be furious if he found out you only lied about your stomach hurting to lure him to the living room, pleading for your owner to pet your tummy pain away knowing good and well nothing hurt other than the burning ache between your thighs. Requesting tea to help you sleep did the trick, throwing yourself and whining about your cramps for more soothing comfort as you slipped crushed up sleeping pills in his steamy mug, chewing at all of your cuticles until he finally passed out and laid limply on the couch. The key he’d kept tucked away in his pocket seemed important, continuing to pat the area mindlessly throughout the evening.
‘Forgive me.’ You whispered, stealing the key before heading out and following scraps of Jeno’s scent still lingering in the crisp night air.
Your own scent spiked the closer you reached him, confused mostly by the notes of sour hidden in his usual aromatic comforting scent. It’s clear the Alphas emotions have gone haywire the more you pick up frustration, anger and arousal with each sniff.
“Jeno.” Heat swarms through your gut when you finally find him, crumpled up inside of a glass case miserably jerking himself off. His statuesque features wrinkled together in distress, even his arm and wrist appearing strained as you slowly walk up to him, treading lightly and mildly afraid.
The Alpha seems too dazed to realize how loud he screams, thrashing wildly as his release rips free, concaving the skin of his stomach that’s visible with his shirt shoved up to his waist. Jeno’s never looked so pathetic, groveling and sobbing, furiously trying to empty every drop of cum from his cock. The tip shoots out weak little jerky spurts by the end, leaving him boneless, choked by the collar keeping him held up in place.
It’s only as he begins to come down that he blinks at you between tears clumping his long dark eyelashes together, gasping short staggered breaths as he scans your face.
Puppy.
Jeno wants to cry for you, call out your name, scream until his chest rips at the seams; throat too dry to let out more than a whimper, a broken wail at best. The Alpha tenses, reaching to tap his fingers against the glass, each large vein lining his bicep thumping rapidly as he scratches down; silently pleading to be released.
“Jeno, I need you..”
The cracked whine in your tone makes his chest cave in, every instinct shouting that his mate needs him, his Omega needs to be taken care of, fucked and bred full of pups. The collar around his throat tightens with each gulp, laxed as he falls forward pitifully and whines, clawing at the glass door desperately.
“Need you.. Alpha..” crumbling to your knees you lock him in place with a heady gaze, chest dragging down the glass. Pert nipples hardened by arousal and cool night air, stiff through the material of his shirt clinging to your curves. Jeno wants to fall with you, buckling at his knees uncontrollably, the boney points hitting glass where his cums dripped down to. He can hardly breathe anymore, choking himself the more he attempts to move and break free, face gone different tones of red and pink from lack of air.
Brain fog clears enough to recall you’d remembered to grab the keys Renjun was trying to hide, patting way down to your hips to find where you shoved them inside of your underwear. The Alphas glazed over eyes stare down blearily, foaming at the corners of his lips as he continues to flex and strain each muscle, rattling the chains holding him down with small strategic movements to break free of the binds.
Jeno can’t think beyond escaping, surrounded by your heavy scent of arousal, the air thick enough to swallow and melt on his tongue; it’s too much, making his cock jump with each breath. His rut fully taken over to the point of hallucination, every thought shoved aside by the need to claim, fuck, and breed.
Stress consumes your chest, fumbling the keys and having to try a few different ones that won’t fit into the lock. “Fuck fuck.” Slippery hands make it impossible to work faster, glancing back as Jeno’s face morphs to a deep shade of red, each vein on his forehead protruding out violently near the brink of bursting.
Each failed attempt to unlock him heightens the sound of wilderness surrounding you, each bird swarming the area chirps louder, every snap of twig spine wrenching, wind howling around menacingly to taunt you for making your Alpha suffer. The latch finally gives, the sound of it cutting through your throat, catching your breath with a wrapped fist; everything muted by the dramatic fall landing the padlock in a pile of leaves and dirt by your knees.
Jeno’s growl could break glass, shaking the ground beneath you as he finally rips the chains from metal hooks Renjun paid extra money to install, guaranteed not even a wild beast would be able to escape.
It shouldn’t terrify you this much, inching back on your knees with a frightful gaze, but the Alphas never looked this deranged before. Drool gathers down his chin, snarling and shoving the glass open, he pauses, standing in place breathing wildly; chest collapsing in with each deep drawn inhale.
More than animalistic, Jeno seems voracious, treading forward in disbelief as the soles of his feet meet the outside of the box. Tongue lapping at the collection of saliva pouring from his swollen gnawed lips. He watches you curiously, blazed eyes tilting with his head as he stands above you engulfing your body in a shadow of heat.
It’s your fault, all of this, chasing the Alpha everyday, flaunting your rapturous seductive scent in his face only to deny him; forcing him to get locked up to keep you safe and protected.
“Present.” Jeno growls, baring the top row of his teeth, akin to a rabid dog with tendrils of drool hanging from his jawline.
“Jeno..”
Lunging forward, his teeth snap together, reaching for a tuft of your hair to stop you from crawling away. “What did you just call me?”
Jeno fumes, shaking you by the grip around your hair painfully, each strand aching from the small rough tugs pushing you side to side.
“Alpha?” You groan and hiss, reaching for his hips to keep steady and alleviate the pain surging down to your nape. “Alpha, hurts..”
“Then submit.” Jeno shoves you back, pushing his foot into your hip to get you on all fours. “Don’t make me say it again.”
“B-but.. I c-can’t—“ Jeno doesn’t let you finish, without another second of hesitation he buries a foot under your hip and effortlessly forces you onto your front. “Alpha! N-no!”
“Shut up,” Jeno sinks down, cupping your hips to set you steady on your knees. “Submit like a good bitch for once.”
“We can’t! Our owner said!—“
“I don’t fucking care.” Jeno snarls, encompassing your exposed rear with hot thick palms. He’s never this combative, never this cruel and relentless; delivering a lash of a slap to your ass with one hand as his other reaches lower to shove your shoulder down and press your chest to the ground. “You belong to me.”
“We can’t! It won’t fit!” The thought of Jeno’s massive size sets shivers off throughout your limbs, bad enough last time you tried to take him that you had to ice yourself for the rest of the day even after a vet visit as Renjun stomped around scolding him for hurting you. Not even more than a few inches of his thick girth had managed to glide inside of you before belting out deadly shrieks.
“I’ll make it fit.” He grunts, wedging your underwear up between the globes of your ass, kneading and palming the fat that folds over onto your lower back with teeth snapping loudly. “This is what you’re made for.”
Rustling noises alert you, blinking rapidly and failing to turn your head with the Alphas weight keeping you in place, unable to see him undressing as fast as possible with one hand. “You’re going to be good for me puppy.” Jeno says, more so commands, smoothing down to shove your hair away and grip the back of your neck. “Beg for it.”
Slotted between your thighs he gathers your underwear to stretch out, pushing the blunt wet tip of his length against your tight flexed hole. The dampness kissing yours noisily, splitting your labia folds open releasing wads of wetness down between your thighs. The visual tugging a groan from the back of his chest, fingers looped around his cock painfully tight to stop from thrusting all the way in. He needs to remain collected, give you time to adjust, no matter how rageful the veins striping his rod appear.
“..A-alpha— please, be nice..” you whimper, suffocating the more Jeno clutches your neck, the more he prods your folds side to side; admiring the fatty flesh framing his angry swollen tip, foreskin stretched back displaying the full mushroom cap shining with precum. The same one you ‘oooo’ and ‘aaaahhh’ for every time.
“I’m always nice puppy,” Jeno’s tongue clicks, licking the backs of his teeth to gather saliva, mouth dehydrated, thirsting for a taste. “Always so nice to you, too nice. That’s why you’re gushing around me..” shaking his head he dips in an inch, biting down on his bottom lip hard enough to break skin. The giant head obscene trying to push in past your tight hole, immediately suctioned by wet warmth sucking around him in a way that makes his stomach twitch; muscles convulsing between etched lines, sucked in as he takes in a long deep ragged breath.
“Fuck!” Jeno howls, losing the battle with his Alpha, needing to feel you wrapped around each inch. He sinks in with precision, cock sliding through your creamy silk folds with ease. He’s too big regardless of how much you leak around the wide expanse of meat stretching you open with each inch, pushing arousal to drip down his thighs, noisily spurting and bubbling with each short thrust.
Jeno blows your puffed up tail away, nipping at it, slapping his cheek fretfully with each dip of his length. The constant whines you screech out only annoy him all the more. “Such a greedy puppy.” The Alpha hums, digging his neatly filed nails into the sides of your throat, a silent warning to quell the tremors shooting up your tail. “Take take take, that’s all you know how to do. Now it’s my turn to take.”
Jeno’s tone dives into a deeper octave, more sadistic and grim, causing you to scratch at the ground to scurry away; fight or flight instinct taking over and screaming to run. The spike of fear muddying your scent has him caging your neck tighter, fingers curled into your throat cutting your breaths short.
“Teach you how to be my good puppy.” He emphasizes by rocking his hips forward, balls smacking your clit with a heavy land, splashing obscene amounts of wetness between your thighs. The action flutters your eyes shut in humiliation as he tugs your neck back enough to scruff you, assuaging your fear with another deep hum and domineering clutched grip. “This is for your own good.”
The last time you can remember being tamed in such a way had to be when you were still a rambunctious newborn, only faintly recalling when your guardians would gather the skin at your nape to settle you down. Jeno had never gone as far as to scruff you, overtaken by his Alphas needs to be in control, he licks up your jaw without apologizing, teeth pinching your cheek with a soft nip. “Such a cute cute, pretty puppy.”
Hauling you back to lay against his chest, he reaches around to grab your stomach, sitting you fully onto his cock; cunt barely able to squeeze around the mass stretching you out. “So deep inside of you pup..” Jeno’s nose drags down your cheek, drool smearing from his pink wet lips. “Feel so good, perfect for me. Fucking made for me baby.”
Between sniffles you try to agree, caught between pleasure and pain fighting for dominance, losing the fight to your desires when his long digits apply pressure under your navel. “Feel that puppy?”
Gargled spit rises up your throat, blinking away the droplets of tears hanging from the rims of your big wet eyes; mustering up nothing more than hiccups and erratic nods. Huffing from his nose, the Alphas tongue hangs out, licking up your soaked cheek. The entire scene filthy and animalistic, cock buried in deep enough to teasingly kiss your cervix, helpless and weak like nothing more than a stupid prey falling into your predator’s devious trap.
“Alpha!” Jeno’s hands collar your throat even tighter somehow, leveraging his weight above you to rise higher and slip fully out only to pummel into you fast and recklessly. Air flow completely constricted by his strong palms bracketing your throat. Each thrust buries him in deeper than the last leaving you gasping deliriously, fully rearranging your insides with every violent blow meeting your cervix. Fucking worse than a dog in heat, he screams gravely, teeth grinding together, cock chubbed up with blood pushing your walls to stretch open to take all of him.
Without warning he cums, pushing it deeper and deeper without falter, nothing in his movement indicating that he’s ready to stop. The sounds behind you pure animal, rising from the depths of his chest with each hot white spurt entering your womb. Jeno slams into you harder, ass rippling under the collision of his hips. “That’s a good puppy, finally learning your place.”
Jeno smirks, licking his lips clean of drool, grabbing fistfuls of your ass before releasing to spank you again. A fucking mess, slicked down to your knees, ass covered in your juices. He slides out slowly, in a daze as each inch drags out more wet than the last, tugging your ass further apart only to admire the way your cunt swells around him. “Mmm, fuck..”
Jeno wants to whimper when you clench around the head of his cock, stealing a last staggering string of nut before he pops out obscenely loud. The sound even more magnified outdoors, cutting through the crisp night air and rattling your spine with embarrassment.
As much as he loves to see your pussy destroyed, gaped and stretched by the width of his girth, pulsing open in despair for more; Jeno can’t stand to see his seed go to waste, trickling out past your fattened up folds.
“What an ungrateful puppy.” Palms collide with your ass, snapping your back into a bowed arch, breaking with a shout. The tremble let out racking through your body more earth shattering, nearly knocking you off your knees, perfect for the Alpha who uses the opportunity to roll you over, shoving your thighs open with heavy hot palms rubbing up the tender flesh of your inner thighs.
Jeno swoops down, stomach flattened to the ground, latching his mouth over your hole to suck. The sound of slurping loud, disgusting and lewd, swallowing his own cum out of your hole with eyes rolled up facing the back of his head.
“Jeno!”
He rumbles, tongue and nose dragging up and down between your thighs. A fucking mess of slick covering his face, taking over his ability to breathe as you gush out more slick, a huge wad of it dripping down the bridge of his nose. Growling angrily, he slaps your inner thighs meanly, nails clawing down to your knees to scare you.
“A-alpha!” You convulse, writhing under the hard grip he sets on your hips, gluing you down to ravage your cunt with menacing lashes of tongue. Wet and wide, lapping faster than he ever has, chin pouring down with the remnants of wetness he misses, mindlessly devouring between your folds and crevices.
Another loud sob flies from your throat, reaching up to cross your arms on your chest; something to stop you from levitating as another orgasm travels through your body. This one rippling through your thighs and toes until they cramp and helplessly kick in the air.
“Pretty pussy all for me.” Jeno kisses, spitting just to watch your hole open up hungrily for more.
“Slutty cock hungry puppy.. my perfect puppy.” He kisses, quickly moving up to slot his hips between your legs, leaning down to mumble against your parted lips. “Okay?”
It's barely a nod, but it’s enough, letting the Alpha know you need more, you want more. Jeno nods back, nose dripping with a mixture of your arousals gently rubbing against yours, a tender moment before wrapping around his size; fat cock snuggled up to your sore hole. The thick tip nudging its way past the pathetic fight your body puts up, clamping around him in a way that sucks around his length, only inviting him to fuck further in.
He thrusts in harder than before, shocking your nerves, an invisible string attached to your navel lifts your back off the floor, arching up with a shout. Jeno mutters thousands of curses, hissing as he watches inch by inch disappear inside of you. Cock swelling up to full size ready to break your pussy for good. Nodding dumbly, he drags up your torso, tickling your throat before locking around you tightly, hoisted up with a lung clogging grip to hang from his cock.
“So full baby.” Reaching under his shirt, he cups the bulge formed under your belly button, becoming obsessed with how stretched you feel. The tip of his length sculpting a place there with a bed of cum prodding your stomach to expand. “Always knew you could take it.”
“Ughhh, Alpha!” It’s more blabber, hiccups and broken small cries; hardly able to form your words let alone thoughts coherently.
Jeno pulls you to his chest, throwing your weight up and down his thick cock, the pain burning through your middle in a sinfully pleasurable way. It’s sickening how good it feels to know the Alphas high-pitched moans, wanton cries, desperate growls are all for you, that they are all because of you. He fucks as if he’ll never stop, hands scattered all over your flesh leaving scratches and claiming marks behind, caking up skin and bits of blood under trimmed fingernails.
“Never stop fucking you,” Jeno pants, spit slick mouth breathing harshly against your cheek, biting the plump flesh between words. “I’ll never stop fucking you, keep you full of my cum, make sure you’re always filled with pups. Fuck you until your body breaks for me, mine, only mine.”
Rabid hunger pushes him over the edge, throwing you down on the ground to ram into you, nothing to hold him back. Jeno throws your legs over his shoulders, knee pits folding limblessly over the broad muscle; pushing ahead to fold you in half. He grabs your neck again, handprints already blooming around the sensitive skin there. Carelessly fucking into you with abandon, body shoved higher by each thrust, the tip of his size pushing past your cervix; bulged tip breaking through your womb with determination. Barbs form around his length, ripping shrieked screams from your chest as they expand and scratch through your muscle.
Grunting above you like a beast, Jeno’s unrecognizable, eyes blown out by the rut, teeth snapping covered with drool, nose snarled back; ready to attack and pounce. Exposed canines threaten to chew you up, lifting your neck like a toy to shove your foreheads together. Thrusting relentlessly through your heat, his barbed length trapped between your fiery heat is unwilling to stop, prodding harder at your insides the closer he reaches climax. “Fuck you full of my babies, Mine mine mine.”
Jeno’s lost to the unreal grip your pussy has around his barbed length, still attempting to milk him dry despite how much it hurts. The tears streaking your cheeks forming glossy puddles over your two toned eyes a reminder of how much this hurts; how much you still want it, how badly you need it.
“Anything for your Alpha,” he growls shakily, cock throbbing. Hissing as the thick head of his size thrusts in deeper; expanding past the opening of your cervix. Fucking little watery whimpered cries and repeated ‘uh uh uh’ out of your near lifeless body. “Anything?”
Jeno sounds distraught, his Alpha needing you to be responsive. Howling for you to plead, desperate for his good Omega bitch to say what he needs to hear.
Weakly nodding, you sniffle, mouth parting with strings of spit attached. Ruined, only good enough for your Alpha to ever want. “A-any—thing.”
Jeno’s length retracts, pulling out to the tip abruptly. Chest rising and falling similar to a beast after chasing down their prey and succeeding. Blown out gaze dissipating for a second, dropping your legs from his shoulders to properly hold your head up, breathy ragged air fanned across your lips. “Love you so much puppy.”
The Alpha thrusts back in, slamming into your cervix all at once with one full swope. Each ridge of his barbed cock painfully digging in past your somehow still tight cunt. “Fuck puppy! Love you so much.” Jeno cries out, ripping your hair back to bite down on your scent gland. Cock pulsing stronger than an accelerated heart beat. The fat head of his rod breaking your womb, growling as teeth break your skin, mating your Alpha and Omega as he unloads; cock lodging in place expanding at the base. The knot rips an excruciating pleasured orgasm out of you as your muscles seize up and struggle to stretch with the swell tugging your entrance to its limits.
Jeno hasn’t stopped cumming, drowning your womb in hot white strands of sticky release. The new sensation gushing your slick against his cock, adding sensitivity from the pressure of your orgasm, dribbling out in small spaces past his knot leaving his balls soaked with arousal.
Only then does Jeno’s Alpha finally exhale, lapping up the wound inflicted on your throat, tonguing the indents of teeth marks as sorrowful apologetic puppy whimpers pass between exhilarated breaths. The wanton neediness in each lick only a sign that he’s nowhere near done, continuing to spill inside of you until your stomach juts out painfully.
Jeno mumbles a ‘thank you’ ever so quietly, using the minute of clear head space to check in on you and lick your face clean.
“Thank you puppy.” He whispers again, losing sight of his satisfied gaze behind the backs of your eyelids, drifting off as he sets you into a new position onto your side and glides back in. “Thank you.”
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Morning comes fast despite your exhaustion, cuddled up to your Alpha atop of the blanket your owner had set out for him. Jeno’s everything consumes you, covered in layers of dry cum, wrapped in the Alphas scent, bite marks littered over your chest, neck, and shoulders.
“Mmmph..” Jeno whimpers in his sleep, shifting against your back and rolling his face to hide in the crook of your neck, nose pressed to your scent gland.
“Alpha.. mhmm hungry.”
Right on time, wooden sticks snap followed by the clouded scent of human drifting through, rising the Alphas head to scan the area and tighten his hold around you.
“What. The. Fuck!” Renjun charges closer the moment he’s near enough to spot the glass box fully open and missing his pup. A scream high enough for only dogs to hear ripping free as he comes to an abrupt stop and finds the two of you laid together.
Jeno smiles, licking your cheek and kissing you to wake up. “Foods here.”
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seattlesellie · 10 months
Text
୨⎯ a helping hand ⎯୧
pairing: loser!ellie williams x fem!reader x dina nolastname synopsis: ellie's too shy and too nervous to take it all the way with you, and thank god dina's right by her side. warnings: weed, smut, mdni, soft dom!dina, awkward top!ellie, sub!reader, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving) authors note: this is based off of a request i got but accidentally deleted since i'm a little braindead ˚ ༘♡ ✧༺♡༻∞
It was thick, and and hazy, and the pungent smoke hung lazily in the air. The scent was… captivating. It wasn’t bad — no, it was a tad skunky and earthy, citrusy. Piney too, and a little bit of spice. 
Something that smelled sickly sweet wafted through the air. It was almost intoxicating— The way her Jasmine and Vanilla fragrance mixed with the musk and and the resin. 
Dina took the skinny spliff in between her fingers. 
Inhale. 
Exhale. 
Silence. 
Ellie’s eyes took a on a reddish hue. They were glossy, and bloodshot. She wore this languid, almost dreamy expression on her face. It rendered a slight droop to her eyelids and a gentle, unfocused gaze. She always got like this. 
She was not quiet— no, she was relaxed, calm. Shoulders dropped down, she wasn't hunching, she was perfectly serene, slightly manspreading on the velvety, emerald green colored couch. A piece of lint landed on her faded beige khaki’s, and she flicked it away gently. 
Everything seemed to move so slow. 
“Are you gonna let go of that blunt, D?” you questioned, lazily grasping and squeezing Ellie’s light blue stress ball in your palms. You caught her playing with that when she kissed you, once — Just a mere week ago. 
₊˚⊹♡
“Are you playing with your fidget while we’re making out?” Your voice was breathy and faint, just above a whisper. You could taste her on your tongue, bordering going on cotton mouthed. 
“No — no, I’m — It’s…” she stammered, and let the ball fly out of her hand and land on the concrete floor. 
An awkward silence. 
“You make me nervous” 
₊˚⊹♡
“It’s not a blunt, babe, It’s a spliff.” Dina took another drag, and handed it to you. 
“Whatever.” you shrugged. 
It caressed down your throat, a slight burn tingled in its wake.
Ellie always loved the way you smoked. A well manicured hand squeezing the bud between your fingers, the way your eyes were forced completely shut when you took a hit, the way your eyelashes fluttered while you exhaled. In all honestly, Ellie just thought you were very pretty. It was not the reason why she dated you; you were funny, and smart, and sweet — and the way you laughed made her stomach tie in knots and her heart feel like it was trying to leap out of her chest and leave her still as a corpse. 
But that “pretty” part, made her very, very nervous. 
She shifted on the couch, lifting her legs up to rest her chin on top of them. Ellie couldn't help but look, examine the way your chest heaved up and down, with her gaze fixed on you. She had a bit of a… staring problem. You saw her gaze from the corner of your eye, and smirked. 
“Can you two stop with your little sex games?” Dina's voice pierced through, breaking Ellie’s trance. 
“Sex games?” you probed, followed by a small huff. This wasn't a sex game. No, no... this was — purely innocent. Just two gals, who happen to be fresh as a daisy lovers, staring at each other while their best friend is in the same room.
“Ellie’s staring at you like she wants to fuck. I’m not a ghost — I’m here too, hello?” She waved her hand from side to side. You could tell she’s here too, you’d be lying if you said nothing in this living room screamed “Dina’s house!”. A silver menorah that’s been laying on the kitchen counter since Hanukkah, with a layer of fine dust collecting on top of the highest branch, a white crocheted mandala hanging slightly loose over the flat TV, bright colored crystals, and some dark ones too — splattered all over the antique mahogany table. Yes, Dina was definitely still there. 
But still, so was Ellie. And being around Ellie… made you want to… Well — Sex games? Is that how Dina put it? 
“We’re not doing anything” Ellie murmured, reaching over to take the spliff out of your hand. Her touch lingered a tad too long, lengthy finger softly caressing yours. Maybe you were? 
“You can go to the bathroom if you want. I wont peep” Dina suggested with a grin. That little devil. 
Ellie almost choked as she exhaled, You chose to ignore. 
“Promise?” You asked. 
“Swear.” 
Ellie huffed, Yeah right. 
“Gimme” Dina whined, signaling Ellie to pass her the half finished spliff. 
“I’m not done” Ellie’s defended, and took another hit. Her eyebrows were hunched together, and a small line had formed, creasing right between them. God, did she look pretty too. 
“Give it, bitch” Dina moaned, and abruptly took the spliff out of Ellie’s wet mouth, Ellie groaning in response. 
Dina rolled it between her fingers, and gave it a small squeeze. 
“Ew! You fucking drooled over it!” 
“Fuck you man” Ellie hissed, bumping lightly into Dina’s shoulder. 
“But seriously… Where’s like—“ Dina inhaled, blowing the smoke into Ellie’s face. 
“Dude—“ Ellie huffed, waving her hand in the air as if attempting to disperse the thick smoke that enveloped them. 
“Where’s the wildest place you had sex?” Dina questioned, as she smushed the spliff on the ashtray, then casually picked off some leftover tobacco from the table, absentmindedly wiping it on the red ceramic surface.
Ellie felt her cheeks turn an adorable shade of light pink. She was a blusher, you soon came to realize. 
The sex thing... that was an issue — Well, it wasn’t necessary an “issue” but it was… a thing. 
You and Ellie hadn’t had sex yet. ₊˚⊹♡
two full months of dating, resulting only in heated make out sessions. Sure, Ellie played with your tits, breathy and panting, and you almost came when she made you jump up and down her creamy thigh, crossfaded and washed by a sudden burst of extreme boldness, but that was that. When you lifted your skirt up to let her see what was underneath (that day, was a mint green colored lace thong) she hastily pulled it down, followed by a whispered “m’sorry”, and when you pouted, nauseous and incredibly embarrassed, she calmed you down with soft delicate butterfly kisses on your nose and on your forehead. 
“Wanna take it slow” she mumbled, her cheeks turning a rosy pink, lips curling down to a pout — almost matching yours. 
Maybe she didn’t really like you like that, you wondered, hugging your pillow, hot tears smearing all over the bedsheet. Maybe you weren’t attractive enough, perhaps she saw you more as a friend… A friend she liked to kiss and only kiss, a friend who made her stomach flip and her mind race, but still, only a friend. 
If you knew that Ellie spent the entire night after that glorious encounter with her purple vibrator in between her legs and a pair of your panties stuffed inside her mouth, perhaps you wouldn’t have cried. Perhaps… you wouldn’t have been embarrassed. Thing is, you didn’t know. So you didn’t kiss her hungrily after that, and you didn’t sit on her lap just to watch her get flustered like you always used used to. You kept your distance, respected her boundaries, and pretended to let it go. Small pecks, hand holding, and one kiss on the pulse of her neck — That’s how it went. 
₊˚⊹♡
You crossed your arms, and fixed your gaze on the yellow colored wall behind Dina. 
“We made out in Jesse’s bathroom” Ellie said quietly. That you did, right after Jesse’s birthday party, you needed to “Clean the bathroom” because “A girl threw up and made a mess”
Dina rolled her eyes, and turned to face her. 
“I asked about sex” 
“Mhm” Ellie hummed, feeling her toes curl inside her Chuck’s. She wasn’t going to get this. 
“Don’t know why you need to know so bad” 
“I'm just... curious," Dina stated, her smirk growing wider as she looked in your direction.
“You two seem like freaks.”
Ellie bit her lip so hard it almost bled. She couldn’t look at you, too embarrassed to see the look on your face, so she looked at the ashtray, examining its sleek cover. Would you pout again? just like you did when she pulled your skirt down? will you look angry? sad? disappointed? 
“Cmon” Dina grumbled. 
“I wont judge —“
She glanced at you.
“Promise.” 
You looked at her like you wanted to shut her lips tightly together with a piece of tape. 
“It’s been kinda dry for me and I’m trying to live vicariously through my best fr—“ 
“We haven’t had sex yet.” Ellie blurted. 
The room fell silent. 
Ellie’s eyes were glued to the table. 
Why the fuck… would she say that? 
Dina cleared her throat, her gaze fixed firmly upon you. Her lips hinted at a grin, but she suppressed it, pressing them together into a straight line.
“Oh” Dina quietly said. Noted. 
Ellie shifted on the couch, and mumbled something you couldn’t hear under her breath. Could have been a “so nosy” or a “fuck off”, but alas, it was barely above a whisper. 
“Happy?” she murmured. 
“Just…” 
Dina flipped her hair to the side, brushing her fingers through the thick, black strands. If you sat any closer, you would have been able to smell her pistachio-almond shampoo. 
“Surprised” 
“Pass me the weed? I wanna roll another one” Ellie groaned. 
“I dont have any” 
Ellie ts’kd, attempting to divert the conversation everywhere but towards what had just happened. Avoid, avoid, avoid. 
You sat quietly, manipulating the stress ball, squeezing it so hard your knuckles almost strained. 
It’s not like Dina didn’t know everything about you, because she did. It wasn’t confessing to some clueless stranger, this was Dina. And still, it hurt. You knew she wouldn’t judge you, never. But you — you would judge you. And that was worse. And now, this wasn’t an unspoken thing anymore. It was out there, waiting to be pounced on. 
Maybe… maybe you needed that. 
“Fuck” Ellie huffed. 
The room fell silent again. It wasn’t the smoke that made the air feel thick anymore. 
“Can I ask…” 
Dina turned her body to squarely face Ellie. 
“Why?” 
“No," Ellie stated bluntly, her voice tinged with raspiness and hoarseness. 
“Was it like this with Cat too?” Dina asked. She always knew how to hit the fucking jackpot. Cat. 
“No, t’wasn’t” Ellie rolled her eyes. 
“Can you let it go?” 
This was a conversation about you, that you didn’t even participate in. Until you did, because you truly couldn’t help yourself. Was it you? Did Ellie just… Did Ellie just like Cat better? 
“Is it me?” Your voice was shaky, soft and quiet. 
She wanted to say no, Wanted to ask Dina to just let it fucking go. 
It was silent for a moment again, till it wasn’t. 
Ellie took a deep breath, slid off the couch slightly as the need to hide under it slowly overtook her. She crossed her arms.
"Yes"
You felt something turning in the pits of your stomach. 
“Oh” you whispered, god, that was painful. It was you. 
Dina’s mouth fell agape. 
“No— not like that” Ellie retreated. 
“No it’s… I get it. S’fine” 
There was nothing Ellie needed more than a punch in the gut to knock her out and a fat blunt intertwined between her fingers. 
“You don’t get it though” 
“Think I’m gonna…” You hastily started to look for everything you needed. Sunglasses, purse, keychain. You weren’t doing this. 
“Gonna go” 
“Hear her out, babe… Sit” Dina calmly suggested. It was as if she knew exactly what Ellie had in mind. It was you, but not like that. How could it ever be like that? 
“Just… Fuck” Ellie mumbled. 
“Cat — she didn’t… Can you sit down?” 
You stared at the floor. Maybe you should sit down.
“Okay how do I—“ Ellie began, scratching her head. 
“How do I explain this?” She looked at Dina. Yes, Dina knew. 
“Calmly, and with reason.” She squeezed Ellie’s bicep, followed up with a small, breathy “Fuck you” from Ellie. 
“Cat didn’t make me nervous like you fucking do, man— She didn’t make me rethink every single step I took and kissing her— Fuck” 
Silence again. 
“Kissing her didn’t make me feel like my legs were fucking wobbly or whatever.” 
“I dont wanna disappoint you.” The way it came out of her mouth, so real, and so raw… you looked… wide eyed. 
“Ellie…” you whispered. 
“Why would you disappoint me?” Gosh. Give her a little squeeze! 
“Because what if I don’t fucking know how— What if you don’t like the shit I do and what if you think I fucking suck and leave me and—“ 
“Can I say something?” Dina interrupted. 
“No, Dina” Ellie nudged her. 
“Ellie shut up, you’re rambling and it’s probably turning her off more th—“ 
“S’not turning me off” It was your turn to interrupt now. "You don't know how?" the brunette asked Ellie, with a teasing smile. Oh, she was making fun of her. Ellie barely picked up on that, too frustrated by her own thoughts running circles inside her foggy brain.
"I do know how— Just... fuck, Dina, just let it fucking go" 
“I can help.” Is all she said. Quiet, but confident. She could help.
“What?” you were stunned. Maybe she had a printed guide? A 101 on lesbian sex? 
Dina rolled her eyes and flashed her pearly whites. 
“Remember that time… when you slept over?” She had to stop herself from grinning again. Her tongue was bumping her cheek, like a naughty little chipmunk. 
“What time?” As if there weren’t dozens of those times. 
“That… Time” Dina tilted her head slightly.
“Don’t know what time youre—“ you rambled, soon to be cut off.
“Ellie—“ Dina turned around to face her, yet again. 
“I fingerblasted your girl” 
“What the f—“ Ellie blurted, and her mouth fell wide open. 
“Dina!” you yelled. 
“I’m just—“ She lifted her hands up in defense. 
“I wanna help because it clearly felt good and—“ 
“Are you on fucking drugs?!” Ellie blurted, and immediately stood up. 
“I mean we fucking smoked, Ellie” 
It was almost comical — how fast paced all of this… situation was.
The room felt silent again. How many more times could this happen? awkward silences, questioning looks. 
“I’m saying I wanna help you, El” 
“Let me show you” Dina’s voice was quiet. Genuine. Begging… almost? 
Ellie stared at the floor. And then at you — and then at the floor again. She could feel her hands grow clammy, and a droplet of sweat forming and flowing down her neck. Show her? why didn’t that make her feel nauseous? Why did she feel it in her fucking crotch?
"What the fuck does that mean?" Ellie shook her head.
“Only if it’s okay with you” Dina murmured softly, and gave you a warm, calming look. Comfort — Dina. 
“And with you.” She took Ellie’s trembling hand and gave it a small squeeze.
"I can show you just what I did." 
Ellie dropped her ass on the couch, and fuck — if her legs didn’t feel so fucking wobbly again maybe she would have stayed standing up. But she sat, her legs slightly parting. 
“Okay?” Dina quipped. 
Ellie gulped.
“I won’t steal her from you… I’ll be your… tutor?” Dina questioned, a sly smirk forming on her lips.
“Dina” You and Ellie said in unison. Ellie glanced at you. She felt ashamed, she felt sweaty, sickly, and too fucking turned on to move a muscle. 
“Let me take care of this” She sounded genuine. Like she truly wanted to help. No grin, no smirk, no attitude, just long eyelashes batting softly as the sun sank lower in the west.
“Okay?” she quipped softly.
“Okay”
Dina smiled so wide she had to bite her entire cheek to stop herself from fully crumpling down on the floor. 
You glanced at Ellie, then Ellie glanced at you. She still couldn’t… fully look, But this was something. A small agreement. 
“C’mere” Dina patted her thigh softly. 
It took you a moment, but you took up on her invitation. Hesitantly, you crawled slowly towards her. When you lifted yourself up in order to sit on her bare thigh, her purple thin linen shorts ending right where your ass met her leg, Ellie felt it in her guts. Her face twitched, maybe in jealousy, perhaps in confusion, but none of it mattered, since her clit throbbed inside her boxers. She didn’t know what was more painful, seeing you — sitting directly on your best friends thigh, getting felt up by someone else, or the aching of her own cunt.
“And I won’t kiss her if you don’t… want me too. Just show you, okay?” Dina whispered. Always so fucking attentive. 
“Mhm” Ellie hummed, as her mouth felt too dry to form any real, clear sentences. It was as if time stood completely still. She could stop this, she could. She doesn’t want to.
Meanwhile, you, you were trembling all over. It was almost too much — and nothing even happened yet. Dina's thighs were soft, and her scent tickled your nostrils. Vanilla, jasmine, almonds, and a hint weed. Her chest was firm as it brushed your back, two soft mounds caressing it. She let out a long breath that lingered on your neck, you hummed softly.
“Ellie… come closer” she whispered.
“Get on the floor… right between my thighs, okay?” It was the way she had said it, that got you. The way it came out to soft, so delicate, as if she was trying to comfort her, make her feel safe.
Ellie slowly crawled right where she needed her.
Dina bunched your skirt up just a tad, revealing a little bit of your upper thigh to Ellie. She sat directly in front, almost as if she was watching a movie, the bystander that she was. Her chest rose up and down. She’s never even seen that part of you yet. 
“This okay?” Dina whispered in your ear, her saccharine voice making your entire body shudder in response. 
A barely audible "Yeah..." slipped past your lips, barely more than a whisper, breathy and faint.
“Ellie?” Dina questioned, adverting her look to face the girl. 
“Have you seen it yet?” 
“N… no” she huffed. Her clammy hand formed in a fist, short nails digging crescent little moons on her palms. She hasn’t seen it. Of course she hasn’t. She’s barely seen anything.
“It’s so pretty” Dina teased, bumping her nose into the crook of your neck.
“She has a really pretty one” she whispered, and began slowly pecking your shoulders. 
“You gotta make sure you treat her good.” kiss. “Make sure she’s wet for you” kiss.
Ellie was breathing like she had run a marathon in the Sahara desert for 18 kilometers.
“Do you wanna maybe… Move her panties to the side?” 
Ellie gulped, you almost heard the fat glob of saliva slip down her throat. her mind almost went entirely blank. This could not, under any circumstances, possibly be real.
Another moment of silence. 
“No?” Dina questioned, running her fingernails down your thighs. She pinched one of them, pulling the fat between her fingers, making you jolt in her lap. 
“Yes” Ellie groaned. 
“Fuck I wanna—“ Fast paced, and needy. Slurring her words and trying to stop herself from fainting on the floor.
She jolted forward, practically leaping towards you.
“Do it…” Dina teased. 
Ellie’s hands were shaky, and her movements were agonizingly slow. As she brought her hand up your thigh, slightly tugging on your skirt, playing with the hem of it, you felt your mind melting completely off. You could only whimper in response. 
With an unsteady pull, your skirt was down. It stood pretty right above your feet.
“God” Ellie groaned at the sight. All she wanted to do, was lay her head on top of Dina’s thighs, as if they were two soft cushions, and stare till her mind completely liquefied.
“Did you pick them just for her?” Dina teased, taking both of your hands in her palms. You hummed in response.
“She’s such a sweet girl, isn’t she?” she looked towards Ellie. Ellie could barely make eye contact with Dina, let alone with you.
All she could do is moan softly in response.
“You can do it, El”
“F—ffuck off” she hissed.
She slowly moved the fabric to the side, and her eyes almost closed entirely shut when she unraveled your drooling, messy cunt. She could see the big wet spot on your panties, and all she wanted to do was suck the juices completely dry, clean them with her tongue until all that was left on the soft cotton thong was her own saliva. she wanted to digest you whole, taste the sweetness running down her throat, but all she could fucking do was pull them to the side, and let out an incredibly harsh breath— bordering on a grunt, almost a whimper. 
“Isn’t it so fucking pretty?” Dina cood, patting your pussy lips softly, each little pat making you buck your hips forward. She played with the sticky strings of slick that hung loose in the air.
Ellie ran her fingers through them, as if they were the strings of her guitar.
You — poor you, didn't even know where to look. 
All Ellie could do was hum, and stare like a tortured, bordering on perverted soul.
“Tell her” Dina commanded. 
“Tell her how pretty you think it is” she parted your puffy lips slightly, revealing the beautiful pearl that resided inside. The cool air, mixed with Ellie’s breath, so so close to where you needed her, made you shiver.
You thought you could come with just her looking into you, examining you as if you were some sort of art work, the most beautiful one she’s ever seen, with details carved by the Gods themselves, a pretty little button, a hole that clenched in and out— inviting her in, and lips like gentle curtains, soft and ethereal.
“Its so… fuck” She huffed. She could feel her mouth watering, the soft muscle hiding inside slowly grazing the top of her mouth. 
“So pretty” 
Before you could move and react to Ellie’s praise, Dina plunged a finger directly inside your greedy hole. Small, delicate, sheer little bubbles made perfectly round of your own juices formed on the tiny tip of her middle finger. 
“Ow fuck!”
Dina, quickly as ever, smeared them all over Ellie’s plump lips. 
Ellie fucking whimpered, and babbled about how good it tasted, and almost instinctively licked all of the gathered slickness that formed on her mouth. 
“Thats a good girl” Dina smirked, patting her fingers on Ellie's left cheek. 
“Dont fucking good girl me” Ellie hissed, almost falling to her knees when she heard the needy, long, high pitched moan that escaped your lips when Dina caressed your cunt again. 
“I see how it is” Dina nodded, grinning like the little minx that she is. 
“Tell her” She whispered. 
“Tell her how good she’s being for you then” 
Ellie gave Dina a questioning look, and stared at your hazed expression. You were wheezing, it was all so fucking much. Dina’s finger slipping in and out, Ellie staring and panting like a cat in heat, and the way Dina started slowly but surely, grinding your hips back and forth to meet Ellie’s hungry, desperate gaze was making you see a million galaxies every time you dared to close your eyes shut. 
“You’re being so good” Ellie whispered. 
“So good” she repeated. She was telling it to herself, now. 
Dina’s middle finger began forming slow circles on your clit, making you whimper out quiet sobs into her neck. 
“Look at her… I think she likes the circles”
She fastened her pace, making you cry softly.
“Tell her you like them”
“I li— I like the circles… God— yesss” you hiccuped, bucking your hips faster and harder towards Ellie’s face.
The way she looked at you, like she was absolutely ravenous, was inexplainable.
Ellie sat on her knees, legs slightly parted, both of her hands laying on the plush of your thighs. Forcefully, she parted them further apart.
She was utterly hypnotized by the way Dinas fingers pinched your swollen clit between her fingers, tugging at the little button. Every time she gave it a little slap, and stopped those agonizingly slow circles she was forming, almost as if she was creating something out of clay — Ellie noticed how your eyes completely shut, she noticed the juice leaking from your hole directly into your ass, making Dina’s thighs glimmer as the slick created a small, sheer puddle on her thighs. 
Ellie had to stop herself from taking her pants off and grinding on the fucking floor. 
“You like that baby?” Dina cood, plunging two fingers inside of your hole, pumping them in and out slowly. She made sure she was putting on a show for Ellie. 
“M’— oh fuckfuck” you babbled, feeling it jolt inside of your stomach. 
“You ready? Ellie? Touch her fucking clit” 
“I c—“ Ellie panted pathetically. 
“Make her come, c’mon, make her fucking come” Dinas voice was breathless and desperate. Somehow, she managed to keep it stern. She was in charge, for now.
Ellie’s fingers met your cunt, pinching your puffy outer lips together, her gaze fixed directly upon it, marveling in how louder you got when it was her who had her fingers caressing you. Dina made you feel good, sure, but it was Ellie who made the coil in your stomach tighten. It was her you craved. 
You needed her. 
“El—Mph— Ellie” You cried, as you felt her movements grow faster and faster. She wanted to drown herself in it, at last — her mouth was on you. She gave no warning, was she truly the student here? 
It was fervent, and warm, and the tight, pink muscle caressed you everywhere, from your clit, and then lapping up the juices gathering in your entrance, it all happened too fast. 
The thing is, she couldn’t help it anymore. 
“Put your—“ Dina breathlessly mumbled. 
“Put your finger inside when you eat her out” 
Her ears perked up, and she obliged. Ellie pumped them in and out, so long they almost grazed your cervix, over that one sweet spongey spot inside, rendering you almost unconscious. 
“Fuckkk” Ellie hissed, as she hungrily kissed your clit, sucking the sensitive little button in between her lips. 
“I wanna fucking—“ Ellie panted 
“Dont you dare keep your mouth off of her, Ellie —"
"You like when she does that?" Dina mumbled, gripping your tit with her left hand, her right one opening your puffy lips together to let Ellie's fingers slip inside easier, quickly pumping in and out like she was trying to win a race.
"I love it— oh god" you babbled. You were almost riding Ellie's entire face, your thighs clenching around her.
"Make her cum Ellie" Dina tugged the taller girls hair.
Oh, she fucking did. 
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chososdoll · 11 months
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ZzzZzzzzzzzZz - falling asleep during the act feat. my JJK faves.
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- headcanons feat. gojo, geto, nanami, mahito & choso x fem!reader
**MINORS DNI: 18+ INTERACTIONS ONLY - you will be blocked**
c/w: SMUT, (consensual) somnophilia (duh), dubcon/passing out (mahito/geto), ROUGH SEX (mahito; he comes with his own warning tbh), praise, pet names, oral (f!receiving), penetration, multiple orgasms/implied overstimulation, squirting, tiny bit of daddy kink (gojo), cream pie, mating press
a/n: BACK FROM THE DEAD! some headcanons i wrote a lil rushed but starting to branch out into jjk so watch this space for more! beta read and with approval by the loml @tkagayamass
gojo “my girl getting sleepy?” his voice murmurs in your ear as all you can manage back is a feeble nod. what you don't expect is for him to pick up the pace, hips hammering faster against you as he’s determined to feel you clench around him again. yes, with gojo, it can last hours. who can blame you for beginning to drift off? now on your sides, your back clasped to his chest as he ruts up into you. “don’t have to do anything princess”. exhausted, spent and ruined long ago, he finally notices you beginning to reach your limit. he may fuck like a blue-eyed demon but gojo’s not cruel….. just determined. all that repeats in his mind is “one more.” it’s the soft kiss he plants on your cheek that makes you melt in his arms and you will yourself to stay awake at the sound of the next words out of his mouth.
“just know you can give daddy one more.”
that’ll do it. geto geto always enjoys caging you in against the bed with his big frame, his intimidating figure assuring him that you're not going anywhere anytime soon... as well as allowing him to intently watch all exquisite faces you make on the end of his cock. “t-too much,” you manage to whimper out, only to be met with a chiding huff of a laugh. too easy.
he licks a stripe up your neck as you whimper again, a dizzying arousing purr of “so weak” as he pushes your legs to your chest; the small spot of mercy you thought he had reserved for you gone. your next orgasm has you screaming out, gushing around his thick cock so hard it makes him proud. your vision blurs as your finally black out, surrendering completely to him.
you don’t know how long it takes to him to finish this time. only waking up again to his head nestled between your thighs; cleaning you up in his favourite way
nanami nanami more than anyone understands a long, hard day. he’s more than happy to indulge in whatever will make you feel better - bonus if that involves using himself to see out the rest of the stress still lingering from a dismal day of work. 
when you're in bed with nanami, nothing else in the world matters. only you. his attention to your body, facial expression, the sounds that leave your drooling mouth is unparalleled; he’s focused only on you. so when he notices the way your eyelids droop, his thrusts falter, a gentle palm cupping your cheek as he muses over you. “my love, you’ve had enough for now.”
he pulls out of you gently, shushing as you let out soft whines of protest. watching him paint his seed all over the folds of your pussy is the last image before you finally drift off to a peaceful slumber. mahito we all know that ever since mahito learned what sex is (i blame geto) it quickly became his most favourite game with his favourite human. another way to experiment…
he loves it. it reminds him of what you truly are - just a fragile, little human. his plaything. pushing your limits in most delicious ways until your legs shake and your pussy gushes gorgeously all over him and the sheets. his only goal pure pleasure and leaving you a complete wreck. he doesn’t care if it hurts, if it’s too much or especially if you’re completely exhausted.
honestly? it really isn’t that unusual for any intimate moment ending in you passing out with mahito. your pleads of “enough” fall on deaf ears, giggling as he forces your head further into the bed, propping your ass up further for him to take you. “but doesn’t it just feel so good?” and it does. so you give in every time, falling limp against the sheets, letting mahito have his fun.
sometimes shoots his load on your face when you’re asleep
choso oh sweet, soft, pussy-whipped choso. no matter how late it is, I truly believe this man can’t sleep without at least tasting you. choso kamo practically gasps with with each roll of his tongue against your clit, completely entranced by your taste. every suck, flick and lick is laced with love. the problem is, he just doesn’t know when to stop. spurred on by incessant need to have you come undone again and again. your whines raising an octave higher and higher after the third, fourth, FIFTH orgasm. after a while he notices the way your eyes begin to flutter shut softly, exhaustion taking over. 
“sleep away, angel.” he murmurs gently from between your legs, “just let me make you feel good, yeah?”
and so with a shaky, shy nod - you let him. relaxed into the sheets, closing your eyes as you let choso enjoy himself. waking up over and over from your hazy slumber to the achingly sweet rush of another and another and ANOTHER orgasm. sometimes it's like you don't even wake up, just an endless stream of semi-conscious pleasure as this man drinks in your essence like he's dying of thirst.
don’t worry, he’ll always clean up and make sure you’re all tucked in once he finally gives himself a break. can you tell he's my favourite?
✨ tell me your favourite, feedback/reblogs/asks v appreciated :} ✨
!! DO NOT REPOST!!
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namelessghoulette626 · 9 months
Text
prompt 9: "don't even think of moving away from here, you are too warm"
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Authors Note: holy shit its been a WILD few days. i got to hear paper rings AND dear john live i don’t think i will ever emotionally recover. and it’s my 19th birthday! :D
You don’t think you’ll ever get sick of seeing the first snowfall of the season. The undisturbed blankets of white snow extend as far as the eye can see, the branches drooping because of the flakes piled up on them, the once colorful leaves now replaced by white clumps. It was always a startling sight when you woke up in the morning, and when you looked out the window, expecting to see the usual greenery, you were instead met with alien territory.
But even after all these years, you couldn’t suppress the childish joy that bubbled up in you at the sight. A perfect, untouched scene ready to be trampled on and disturbed by you. 
And it wasn’t just the sight that made you happy. When the first snowfall came around, that meant the festivities were just behind it. The cozy clothing, the decoration, the delicious food, the warm fires, the hot chocolate. All of it. 
You were so entranced with the view that you failed to notice Miguel approaching from behind, his hands wrapping around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder as he also took in the view. His reaction was starkly different than yours.
“What the fuck is that?” He grunted, clearly just waking up, the lack of body heat next to him causing him to rise. Miguel always took every opportunity to cuddle with you, claiming you were his “personal body warmer.” 
“Just snow?” You responded as if it was the most obvious answer in the world, which, in all honesty, kinda was. 
You could feel him shaking his head, in disbelief at the sight in front of him. “No, that is not just snow. There is way too much for it to just be snow.”
“Oh, this isn’t a lot, I’d say about 3 or 4 inches (7 to 10 centimeters). Pretty average for this time of year. In a few weeks, it’ll probably be closer to 2½ feet (0.76 meters).”
After Miguel didn’t respond, you turned your head to the shoulder that he was resting on. He looked visibly shocked, and you could tell he was trying to visualize what all that snow would look like. If you were in his shoes, you’d be doing the same. After dating him for a few years, you knew that he lived in a warmer area of the world, a constant summer throughout the whole year, never reaching below freezing, except for a few extreme instances. And, you realized, that every time winter came around, you had been at Miguel’s place, and you know he grew up in the same area, meaning he had no way to see snow like this before. 
“And people live here? Willingly?” He was flabbergasted. “How do?… What?… Huh?” Any sentence he tried to formulate completely flopped, his eyebrows scrunching further and further together at each attempt. You giggled, caressing the side of his face lovingly as you watched him. He could be unintentionally hilarious at times.
“Wanna go outside?” You suggested, and his nose bumped yours as he turned his head towards yours. “I checked this morning, it’s only about 23 degrees out (-5 Celsius). As long as we bundle up we’ll be all good.” His nose moved off yours, and his lips were now in their place, giving you a quick peck before standing up fully, his back starting to ache from being hunched over for so long. 
“Whatever you’d like, love,” he answered, and you shook your head. 
“I’m not gonna drag you into something you don’t wanna do. Yes or no?” 
He rolled his eyes, more a sign of playfulness rather than one of annoyance. “So demanding,” he jested, “And will I get anything in return?”
“My undying love and affection,” you dramatically put your hand over your heart as you spoke.
“You can’t give me something I already have, love.”
You tried to force down the smile that grew on your face, but ultimately failed, and you saw your smile reflected on Miguel’s face, the corner of his eyes crinkling. 
“You got me there. Though I could always take it away,” you teased, and you heard Miguel gasp in mock offense.
“You wouldn’t dare,” you felt his arms wrap back around your waist, this time wrapping around your arms as well, pinning you tight against his chest, and you felt his lips against the side of your neck.
And then on your cheek. 
Finally, the settled on the top of your head, before you felt him rest his head on you again, this time on your own head. He sighed contently, rocking a bit and he just held you.
After a few moments of silence, you spoke. “In all seriousness, what do you want?”
After a few moments of pondering, you felt his arms go slack, to resting at his side. “I’ll think of something later. Let’s go get dressed, love.” Cold air hit your back as Miguel stepped away from you, and you heard his footsteps recede back to your bedroom, the sound of the closet door opening following suit. 
A few moments later, the two of you were bundled, ready to face the elements. You realized quickly that Miguel didn’t have a winter jacket, never needing one before, so you made a mental note to take him shopping later for one. For now, you layered a long sleeve shirt, a sweater, and a large hoodie, and when you took a step back, you noticed that he looked like the kid in A Christmas Story. You just hoped he wouldn’t get stuck on the ground.
Grabbing his gloved hand with your own, you head to the front door, and before you opened it, you gave Miguel a quick warning. “It’s going to be bright, just letting you know.” The curse following you opening the door let you know that despite your warning, Miguel still wasn’t prepared. 
Pulling a less-than-willing Miguel behind you, you took your first step into the fresh snow. The crunch of the snow under your feet was a pleasant sound. Following the path to your backyard by memory, the two of you were now surrounded by forests and nature.
Because you lived in a secluded area, more rural than anything, you had access to paths and trails all around your house, easily accessible in your backyard, and twisted trees provided a slight canopy to block the snow. You and Miguel walked side-by-side now, and you instead linked arms, finding it too hard to hold hands with bulky gloves on. A comfortable silence sat in the air as you walked, watching the scenery together with eager eyes. 
The trail you were currently on was relatively flat, with only a few inclines and declines spread about. Your face was starting to feel the chill, your nose cold and running. Looking over at Miguel, you saw his cheeks and nose were rosy pink, like he was profusely blushing.
You were reaching the end of your walk, the trail looping around back to your home. But you weren’t quite ready to go inside yet. There was just one more thing you wanted to do.
When the trail ended and you were back in your yard, you unlinked your arm from his and crouched down, causing Miguel to stop and watch what you were doing. You, however, had turned around, so he couldn’t see what you were doing.
With both hands, you scooped a pile of snow together and began pressing it together in the shape of a ball. It was perfect packing snow, so the shape held as the snow stuck to itself. Standing up, you hid your creation from him as you turned back around, a totally not suspicious smile on your face.
“Is everything-” Miguel’s question was cut short as a snowball hit him directly in the chest, exploding in a puff of flurries. 
“Snowball fight,” you said in a sing-song-like manner, before you were off, kicking up snow as you ran, wanting to put as much distance between the two of you before he could react. Once you figured you had gained enough distance, you looked over your shoulder, and you saw Miguel already forming a ball, a wide grin on his face. 
You hid behind a tree, needing an opportunity to create more ammo. “Mi amor,” you couldn’t tell where his voice was coming from. “Where’d you run off to, hm? Too scared to finish what you started?”
You held your breath, laughter started to bubble up in your throat at the exhilaration you were feeling. Listening intently, you tried to pick up his footsteps, to hear the crunch of snow that you loved. 
There was nothing.
Instead, you only heard the sound of the wind whistling past, occasionally spraying up stray flakes. 
That either meant he was standing still, waiting for you to reveal yourself, or he was on the prowl. Knowing Miguel, you knew he was on the move. But why did he have to be so goddamn quiet?
Grabbing the few snowballs you made, you slowly stood back up, breathing as quietly as you could so you could listen out for him. After a few moments, you dared to peek around the corner, keeping as much of your body hidden as you could as you looked around.
Miguel was slowly making his way toward your tree, keeping his footsteps light, barely breaking the surface of the snow. But when you peeked around, your eyes immediately locked, and he gave up on trying to be sneaky, instead charging at you, a light laugh escaping him.
Your own laughter escaped you as you quickly bolted, throwing one of the snowballs as you ran around him. It went wide, completely missing Miguel and landing on the ground.
By this time Miguel had spun around, continuing his charge in your direction. You threw another snowball, this one hitting him in the shoulder but doing nothing to slow him. Your laugh was even louder as you ran again, and you saw him return fire, barely missing your side as you dodged. You knew he could easily beat you, but he was holding back, letting you have your fun. 
Now you only had one ball left. Looking over your shoulder, you saw him coming closer, so in one final attempt, you blindly threw the ball, hoping that it at least brushed him. Instead of hitting him, it hit the branch of a tree he was passing under, and all the snow that had piled on it fell as the branch shook, landing right on top of Miguel. This halted his movements, clearly not expecting the sheer amount of snow on him.
You wish you’d taken a photo of him, but you were too busy cackling to do it. His entire upper body was covered in snow, and you were unable to make out his face, but you knew he was glaring at you. You doubled over, hands on your knees as you tried to stop your laughter. 
You should’ve left your guard up.
Your laughter quickly turned into a shriek as you felt a cold pile of snow on your head, falling down your shoulders and into your jacket, clumps going down your back. Looking up, you saw Miguel, still covered in a significant amount of snow, looking smug as he finished dropping snow on you. 
“How’d that feel?” he asked, clearly amused with himself.
The snow was now causing your teeth to chatter. “It felt absolutely wonderful,” you said sarcastically, and you shook yourself like a dog, trying to get as much of it off as you could. 
You went to move past him, but he picked you up, lifting you a good foot off the ground as you flailed your legs around. “Now where do you think you’re going?” he jokingly chided.
“Inside, where I won’t get snow down my back.”
“Well, whose fault is that?”
Mine. “Yours,” you said.
“You started it, love. Don’t start things you know you can’t finish,” he muttered, and you felt your feet touch the ground again, but his arms still held on.
“You gonna let me go?”
“You gonna lock me out of the house?”
“Maybe,” you answered, and you felt Miguel shiver behind you, the cold starting to sink in. “Alright, I won’t. As long as you cuddle with me.”
Miguel released his hold. “You know I can never say no to that.”
You both walked back into the house, shaking out as much snow as you could before entering. Slowly, the two of you undressed, peeling off wet garments, hidden clumps of snow hitting the ground as more and more layers came off. Miguel was done first, and you watched him retreat to the bedroom after dropping his clothes in the washing machine.
A few moments later, you were down to just a shirt and underwear, and you also dropped the articles off in the washing machine, and you saw that Miguel had left out a cup of detergent, ready to pour in. It was simple gestures like that that got your heart racing, your love for Miguel growing stronger and stronger. 
Finally making your way to the bedroom after starting the wash cycle, you saw Miguel partially under the covers, the blanket covering him from the waist down, his shirtless upper half on full display. He lifted up the blanket slightly, inviting you to slide right into his arms. You heard him almost moan as your warm skin made contact with his cold body. His fingers were freezing as they wrapped around your body, and you jumped as they brushed up your shirt, touching the sensitive skin on your back.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were so cold?” you murmured, your hand cupping his cheek, and he leaned into your touch.
“It’s not so bad,” he sighed. “As long as you warm me up after.”
“Next time tell me, please. I’d hate for you to be miserable just for my sake.”
He grunted, which was the closest thing you were going to get to a yes. 
You felt his fingers play with the hem of your shirt, tugging at it slightly. “Can I take this off? I want to feel you against me.”
After nodding yes, you helped him take off your shirt, and he chucked it to some corner of the room, sure to be forgotten. When you lay back down, you brought the blanket up with you, covering both of you as well as you could. Immediately a cocoon of warmth enveloped the both of you, and you already felt yourself getting drowsy.
You’re not quite sure how long the two of you stayed like that, simply holding each other, but you were startled out of it by the jingle the washing machine played when it was done. Looking up at Miguel, you saw his eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily, so you assumed he was asleep. You slowly got out of his arms, almost fully up before you felt his hand grab your wrist. 
Sleepily, he muttered, “Don’t even think of moving away from here, you are too warm.”
“But the laundry-” you tried to rebuttal, but he shushed you.
“The laundry can wait. Stay. Please.”
Sighing, you laid back on his chest, and he rolled over, spooning you, arms wrapped around your waist, your head tucked under his chin. You weren���t leaving anytime soon.
A few seconds passed, and you remembered you were forgetting something.
“You never told me what you wanted,” you whispered.
He held you tighter, murmuring in your ear softly. 
“Just this,” was all he said.
fluff prompt masterlist
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radiance1 · 6 months
Text
Damian landed with a small thud in the alleyway, standing up and walking forward while unsheathing his blade. It drew an elegant arc in the air, before it tips was placed at another's throat, forcing them to tilt their head upwards to avoid injury. "What do you think you are doing here?"
Eyes were peeled open slowly, and the wheezy that filled the alleyway took on a more amused edge. "I don't know, why do you think I'm here," Danny tried to tilt his head, before stopping with a wince and a sharp intake. "Can't I just visit my big bro, from time to time?"
Damian tilted his head slightly, eyes roaming over the various wounds over his brother's body and the amount of ectoplasm on the ground around him, before leaving Danny with the most unimpressed look he could make. Danny chuckled wetly, before devolving into a coughing fit, then smiling wryly. "Heh, ya got me I guess."
"Tt." Damian lowered his blade, enough for Danny to no longer have to strain his head upwards. "What brought you to this state, Daniel? Those inventors you keep around are certainly brilliant, but incompetent." Damian's eyes narrowed. "So who."
"Yea, wasn't them. Can't really do that when you're blown to smitheries, right?" Danny chuckled humorlessly, before falling silent with a pained wheeze. His head threatened to fall downwards, and his eyelids drooped. A slight press against his neck snapped him back into the waking world. "Right, right. Okay so, would you believe me if I said that a," Danny swallowed. "A government branch is currently chasing me after they found out about my half-dead status?"
Damian stared silently, then sighed. "I'm not surprised, you always were an idiot." Danny puffed up his cheeks indignantly. "Hey! It wasn't my fault this time!"
"Whatever you say, Daniel." Damian pressed the tip of his sword further against Danny's throat. "That still does not explain why you came here, of all places."
"Amity Park's compromised for me, and well." Danny gave a half shrug, or at least tried too before wincing. "This is one of the last places they would look, and I'm too," Danny gesture to himself. "You know, to go for another fly."
Damian nodded. "I can see that." Damian dissected Danny with his eyes, taking in his injuries, his ruined outfit, the blood running down his face over one of his eyes.
Hm.
Damian let out an annoyed sigh, before twirling his sword away from Danny's neck and putting it back into its sheathe. He lifted the edge of his cape. "Get in before I regret this."
Danny blinked in surprised confusion. "What?"
Damian scowled. "Get. In." He flapped the edge of his cape for emphasis, and Danny blinked again, before suddenly being hit with a wave of understanding. "Oh, oh! Really?"
"I will not be repeating myself for a third time."
"Aw! I knew you cared about me!" Danny flew into Damian's cape, leaving a trail of ectoplasm behind in his flight that was quickly taken hold of by gravity and splattered against the ground.
Damian pulled a face, because he already felt like he regretted doing this.
"Robin, where are you?" His father's voice coming from his comm snapped him from his regret. He jumped onto a nearby pipe and flipped himself up onto one of the buildings, gritting his teeth in annoyance as Danny clapped with his cape. He glanced back at the alleyway, before turning.
"On my way, father." And just like that, he was out into the night with one extra (annoying) passenger.
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onestopfanficshop · 1 year
Text
all the time in the world
pairing: tsu'tey x fem!avatar reader
word count: 4k (oops)
warnings: kissing, unprotected p in v sex (are there condom-equivalents on pandora?), fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), bit of overstimulation, description of reader’s hair length, miscommunication trope if you squint
summary: after three months on pandora with jake, neytiri, and tsu’tey, you finally complete your iknimaya. during your night of celebration, you gather up the courage to tell tsu’tey how you feel.
translations || tìyawn: love
oel ngati kameie: i see you
nga yawne lu oer: you are beloved to me
gif not mine!
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"Tsu'tey!" you complain, dragging out the last vowels of his name. You had no idea where this man was taking you. He had dragged you away from your own party, for crying out loud. The clan was celebrating a successful hunt, as well as you for completing your Iknimaya shortly after Jake did. A night filled with music and laughter, and lots and lots of dancing. Another victory chant had just started, and Tsu'tey saw it as the perfect opportunity to steal you away for a moment. You just had no idea why. In fact, you're so caught up in what could possibly be the reason why that you trip over a root, nearly face planting on the forest floor. Not even three months of living practically full-time on Pandora could get rid of your inherent clumsiness.
Tsu'tey whipped his head back, ears standing up in alarm then flattening in annoyance as he saw you nearly lose your balance. You craned your neck up to look at the tree that the offending root belonged to, and patted its trunk apologetically.
Tsu'tey hissed quietly, walking to where you stood. "You are always getting yourself into trouble, hm? Try to stay close to me," he scolded, suddenly grabbing your hand and pulling you along with him. You’re shocked by the gesture, nearly forgetting to protest because your mind is occupied with the sensation of Tsu'tey's large hand enveloping yours.
"This is…totally unnecessary," you huff, although you make no move to let go of his hand. "I mean, where are you even taking me–"
You cut yourself off when you set sight on the majestic tree glowing vibrantly in front of you. You were positive that you had never been to this part of the forest–there's no way you would've overlooked this. The tree stood tall and inviting, with dozens of atokirina’ seeds floating in between its thin, droopy branches. It looked like a bioluminescent version of the willow trees that you studied back on Earth. You let go of his hand to push further through the leaves, cautiously reaching out to touch a drooping branch and delighting in how it glowed in response.
“This is the Tree of Voices,” he explained. “We can hear the voices of our ancestors here. If you connect to it, you can listen to them.”
You turned back to look at him, eyes slightly wide in surprise. “This must be very sacred,” you said, looking up in wonder at the glowing branches.
“Yes, it is,” he replied, taking note of the way you looked around in awe at everything.
“Thank you for trusting me enough to let me see it. It’s beautiful.” You gave him a soft smile.
“You know, there was a time where I did not trust you at all, " he said in an amused tone.
“I'm aware,” you replied, chuckling.
“Besides, you are Omaticaya now,” he continued. “It is only fair that you get to see it. And you will need to make yourself a bow, from the wood of the Hometree.” He pauses, parting some leaves out of the way so he can move a little closer to you. “And you may choose a mate.”
“A mate?” you ask, ears flicking back in curiosity.
“Yes… we have many strong warriors for you to choose from. I know Ozä is looking for a mate. He is particularly skilled,” he says pensively.
“Ozä?” you repeat, furrowing your brows. “I mean, he is a great warrior. But he’s not the one I want.”
“Oh? So you have already chosen?” Tsu’tey questions. His expression remains entirely neutral, but you catch the way his ears flick up and his tail swishes behind him.
“Um… yes, I suppose I have,” you admit. Shit. You’ve already sort of blown your cover. Might as well tell him how you felt—it was now or never.
“He’s a strong warrior as well. The strongest in the whole clan, actually. And he taught me everything that I know, about the way of the people. He taught me… how to see. How to give, not to take. I owe it all to him,” you say timidly.
“The person you are describing… it sounds very much like me,” Tsu’tey replied cautiously.
"I know," you said sheepishly, letting out a nervous giggle. His gaze was so intense; it was heavy and unrelenting and focused solely on you. You couldn't bring yourself to maintain eye contact, so you looked shyly at the bioluminescent moss at your feet.
"I know that we had our differences at first, and we argued a lot. But I grew… I grew to care for you," you admitted quietly, toying with a floating atokirina’ seed. "And I hope I'm not wrong in assuming that… well, maybe…maybe you grew to care for me, too," you said hesitantly. Your voice went up at the end of the sentence like you were asking a question, and you mentally kicked yourself for sounding so insecure. What if he didn’t feel the same way? You’re positive you would evaporate on the spot if he rejected you.
But a shadow casted over the ground you were staring down at. You looked up to see Tsu’tey standing right in front of you. You couldn’t make out the expression that was in his eyes at the moment.
“No,” he said.
“No?” you repeated, trying to keep your voice steady.
Fuck. You should’ve known better. After all, Tsu’tey was the best warrior in the clan, and surely there were plenty of other eligible women lining up to be with him. Neytiri was promised to him before she mated with Jake, and she was the tsahìk’s daughter, for crying out loud. Tsu’tey had practically hated you from the moment you set foot on Pandora, but you two had finally gotten to a place where you could tolerate each other. You might even dare to call yourself friends. But now you had gone and ruined it by confessing your unreciprocated feelings to him like a lovesick teenager. Your face dropped, and your heart dropped even further.
“Wait,” Tsu’tey said quickly, registering the expression on your face. “I meant to say no, as in, you were not wrong to assume that. To assume that I had grown to care for you.”
“Wha- really?” you said in disbelief, looking up at him with wide eyes.
"Yes. I know you may not think so, but you taught me as well. It is true I hated the Sky People. But that was before I knew you. You taught me that it is not the body that matters; it is the spirit. It would be the honor of a lifetime to protect you until I take my last breath," he said. He slowly raised a hand to cup one side of your face, as if he was afraid you’d run away at his touch. You didn’t.
“If you will have me,” he continued quietly.
"Yes," you replied automatically, raising a hand to hold the one that was on your face.
"Yes?" Tsu'tey said, unable to hide the small smile that came to his face.
"Yes," you whispered again, letting out a breathless little laugh. You leaned in to rest your forehead on his. His pupils were dilated, and in the violet light emanating from the Tree of Voices, they almost looked animated. God, he was so close. If you just leaned forward a bit, you could–
It was almost as if Tsu'tey could read your mind, because his lips met yours before you could even finish your thought. It was hungry and greedy, his hands finding purchase on either side of your hips. Just the feeling of his fingertips on your skin made your stomach flutter, and when he dug his fingers in a little harder, you let out a sound that was somewhere between a whine and a moan. He moved to press his body against yours as his hands moved up to tangle in your hair. He tugged at it, trying to move impossibly closer to you, accidentally loosening it from the braided hairstyle that Neytiri had painstakingly put it into earlier. Your hair cascaded down your shoulders as Tsu'tey pulled away, hands moving to cup both sides of your face. His breathing had quickened, and he was looking at you in a way that made your legs want to turn into jelly.
"Is this…alright?" Tsu'tey asked breathlessly, thumbs caressing your cheekbones.
"Yes," you whisper. Your hands come up to hold both of his wrists. "It's more than alright. It's amazing."
Tsu’tey smiled at your statement—a full, genuine smile that had his razor-sharp canines on display, stretching across the expanse of his entire face. He untangled his arms from yours and sat down on the soft moss, tugging on your wrist to signal for you to do the same. He reached around his back and grabbed the braid protecting his kuru, and you took it as a sign to do the same. Tsu’tey moved his kuru closer and closer to yours, and you held your breath in anticipation, looking at him with eyes full of nothing but trust and curiosity. The tendrils swayed until they connected, and then…
Oh.
The amount of sensations that you felt all at once nearly overwhelmed you, causing you to shudder. Much to your surprise and delight, you could feel everything that Tsu’tey is feeling. You felt the breeze blowing at his ankles, and the dull ache of his fingers digging into his palm as his breathing got heavier. You felt like you had a sudden jolt of energy, and the only thing you wanted to do was spend it on Tsu’tey.
“Tsu’tey,” you gasped, your fingers tugging at his shoulders to pull him closer to you. “I need…”
“I know,” he said in a choked whisper.
His strong arms wrapped around the entirety of your waist, pulling you up so that you were taller than him, standing up on your knees. He took advantage of his lower position to plant kisses at the junction between your jaw and your neck, causing you to let out a quiet moan. Your own hands were not idle, roaming down the expanse of his defined chest, all the way down to his impossibly toned abdomen. When you snaked your arms around to drag your nails down his back, he shivered a little.
“Yawne,” he groaned. In the haze that Tsu'tey had your brain in, the translation managed to come to mind: Beloved. Your heart skipped a beat.
He pulled at the necklace connected to the intricately beaded top that Neytiri had gifted to you after you completed your Iknimaya. The beads were stunning; woven in the shape of a spiraling flower, they had a metallic look to them, beautifully capturing and reflecting the light from the Tree of Voices.
“If I had known that you felt the way I did… I would have courted you properly. I regret not having done so,” Tsu’tey said, absentmindedly tugging at your top but not quite taking it off.
“It’s okay,” you whisper, looking down at him and moving your hand to hold both sides of his face. “We have each other now. That’s all that matters.”
His ears flicked up at this, and you found it so adorable that you couldn’t help but smile. He looked down at where his finger was hooked on your top, then back up at you, as if asking for permission to take it off. When you eagerly nodded your head yes, he wasted no time, exposing your bare chest to the forest breeze. You suddenly felt shy, wanting to move to cover yourself. You weren’t sure what the difference would be between your Avatar body and that of a regular Na’vi woman. You hoped that your boobs weren’t too big or too small or too weird-looking. But all of that doubt washed away when Tsu’tey buried his face in your chest, planting wet kisses all over and paying special attention to your nipples. You couldn’t help the lewd moan that escaped from your lips, spine arching as you pushed yourself closer to him. Emboldened by your response, he continued his path down your torso, noting how your breathing hitched with every time his lips met your hot skin.
“You are divine,” Tsu’tey breathed against your skin, looking up at you with lustful eyes.
“Says you,” you replied smiling, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
He finally reached your tweng where he paused, looking up at you hesitantly.
“We do not have to—“ he started.
“No,” you interrupted swiftly, cutting him off. “I want to. Please, I—I want you,” you breathe, a bit whiner than you intended to sound.
Now it was Tsu’tey that couldn’t help smiling. You reclined back on your forearms on the moss as he took off his tweng first, then helped you with yours. After he took off his battle band and his neck piece, you were both laid bare before each other. Your right hand pressed to his chest, and you could feel how quickly his heart was beating. He cradled your face in his hand with a sort of restrained reverence, as if he was afraid to touch you further.
Sensing his hesitance, you grabbed his hand in what you hoped wasn’t a bold move, and dragged it down further and further until it was right at the cusp of your wet folds. Tsu’tey seemed to get the message then. His eyes stayed glued to yours, slipping a testing finger inside you. You let out a sharp little exhale, your back coming off the forest floor in response to his touch. He took this as encouragement, moving his thumb to circle around your clit and slipping another finger inside of you. That got you. One of your hands shot up to grab one of Tsu’tey’s impossibly toned biceps as your eyes snapped shut, brows furrowing together.
“Tsu’tey, I need—I want…,” you gasped, bucking your hips to try and add more friction to his movements.
“What is it, tìyawn? Tell me, and I will give it to you,” he said huskily. He was half a world away, eyes heavy as he watched his fingers move in and out of you.
“More,” you managed to get out.
In a surprise move, he took his fingers out of you, arms hooking up to grab your hips and tug you down. You let out a shocked gasp as Tsu’tey lowered himself near your aching cunt. His eyes flicked up to yours hungrily–only for a split second–before he buried his face in between your legs. Moans tumbled from your lips as his tongue worked his magic on you, swirling and sucking at your clit until you were seeing stars. You had to thread your fingers through his braids to ground yourself; otherwise, you were afraid you’d float up to heaven and never come back.
“Tsu’tey, please don’t stop, don’t you dare stop,” you mumbled, barely coherent. You were speaking gibberish now, a mix between English, some Na’vi, and moaning, but mostly, you just repeated Tsu’tey’s name over and over.
He paused his actions only for a second to look up at you, his mouth and chin shiny with your slick. The sight had you biting back a smile.
“You are very demanding, you know that?” he said, grinning and pressing a chaste kiss to the burning skin of your thigh.
You huffed out a laugh, tugging lightly at his braids. “Shut up and keep going,” you retorted breathlessly. Tsu’tey’s ears flick up at this, and his eyes glinted mischievously as he looked you up and down.
“As you wish,” he said lowly. He resumed his assault on your clit, hands moving up to hold both of your breasts and play with your nipples. Whimpering, you closed your fingers over his hands. You came undone seconds after, and if this were any other moment where you were the slightest bit concerned about your dignity, you would have thought it was an embarrassingly short amount of time. But right now, all you could focus on was squeezing your hands around Tsu'tey's as you reached the peak of your climax. Tsu’tey watched your contorted features, the thin layer of sweat on your forehead, and your parted lips, and decided right then and there that you had never looked more beautiful. You were panting, trying to get your breathing down to a normal rate when you finally caught his eye. They had a sort of amused look in them, and with you still giddy from your orgasm, you let out a giggle.
“What?” Tsu’tey asked, half-grinning as he gingerly tucked some hair behind your ear that had gotten in your face.
“Nothing, I just—that felt really good. You make me feel good.”
“I do?” he asked, quirking his lips at you.
“Mhm,” you replied. Your eyes drifted down to the space where his cock was, already hard and throbbing. Without thinking, you grabbed it, and his reaction was instant. He gasped, shuddering as he looked down at where your hand was pumping him, and then back up to your face.
“I need to—can we…?” Tsu’tey stuttered, swallowing hard as his eyes fluttered shut. You understood him well enough, though, and you lined him up so that his tip was at your entrance. You moved your hands to hold his face, looking between both of his eyes.
“It’s okay,” you whispered. “Go ahead.”
Slowly, without taking his gaze off of you for a second, Tsu’tey pushed into you with the utmost care. You kissed all along his jaw and his throat as he continued on until he bottomed out, rewarding your ears with a low, throaty groan when he did. He began to move at an agonizingly slow pace, restraint evident as he tried to give you time to get accustomed to his size. Each drag of his thick cock had you biting your tongue from whining at the overstimulation. But even though you were still hyper-sensitive from your orgasm, you desperately wanted him to fuck you with full force, for him to come the same way he made you come. You wanted to make him feel as good as he made you feel.
“Tsu’tey, I want you to go faster,” you pleaded, staring straight into his golden eyes. “Can you do that for me?”
He slowed down, dick twitching inside of you. “Are you sure, yawne?”
“I have never been more sure of anything in my entire life,” you whispered. That was all the reassurance he needed. With a few warning thrusts, he began to pound into you. The force of it had you breathless, and the only thing grounding you was his hands, which were holding you down firmly on either side of your lower abdomen.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you whined, your fingers taking hold on his biceps once more. “Please don’t stop. I need you.”
Tsu’tey could only respond by whispering curses in Na'vi that you vaguely recognized from your training with Neytiri. You could sense his restraint dissipating, thrusts becoming sloppy and arrhythmic as he felt your walls gripping him impossibly tight. Your head turned over to the side, where you caught sight of where the two of you were still joined by your neural queues. Carefully, you slid your hand under your conjoined braids so that it rested on top of your palm. Tsu’tey took one of his hands and closed it over yours, and you squeezed his hand gently. That seemed to be enough to drive him over the edge. He let go of your hand and pulled you up to a sitting position so that your chest was flush against his, and you raised your arms up to wrap around his neck, holding him in a tight embrace. A few more thrusts and then he groaned, suddenly going still, and a soft moan escaped from your lips as you realized that he was coming inside of you. Your fingers wrapped around the nape of his neck, stroking the skin there as he got in a few more lazy pumps, desperately trying to ride out his high the same way that you did before pulling out. He slumped against you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you absentmindedly raked your fingers up and down his back. You could feel his warm breath coming out in little huffs against the skin near your neck, and you could swear you had never felt so content in your life.
“Ma Tsu’tey,” you said softly, feeling him come down from his climax. He looked at you, eyes full with equal parts lust and admiration, which turned to concern upon seeing your watery eyes.
"What is it, tìyawn? Did I hurt you?" he asked worriedly. His hand automatically came up to hold your face, thumbing away at the tears threatening to spill.
"No, no– I just…" you start, letting out a shaky laugh. "I love you, Tsu'tey. More than I can even properly say with words. Oel ngati kameie," you whispered.
"Oel ngati kameie, tìyawn," he whispered back, rubbing soothing shapes on your cheekbone. He paused, eyes dropping down for a moment before looking back up into your own. "Nga yawne lu oer," he said, voice cracking with emotion. Your eyebrows knitted together and raised up, breathless at the vulnerability that Tsu'tey was showing to you right now. Here was a man who went from never letting you see him sweat to confessing his love to you. So you kissed him. You had to. You needed to. And he kissed you back. If you kissed him, he would kiss you back–it was a concept that was so foreign, yet completely familiar, and you reveled in it. It wasn't like the first kiss you shared; this one was sweet and pressing. You weren't in an adrenaline rush; this was the bliss that came after the tides of rapture had breached the shore. It was the type of kiss that said: we have all the time in the world. You pulled away softly, taking time to immortalize Tsu'tey in your mind like this. Happy. At peace. In love.
"Hello," he said quietly with a loopy grin, as if meeting you again for the first time.
"Hi," you whispered back, giggling.
"What next, hm?" he asked, fingers tracing your back soothingly.
"I just want you to hold me, Tsu'tey."
And so he did. He held you, and made out with you some more–he couldn't help himself. You're not entirely sure when you had gotten your clothes back on (you were too high up in your post-orgasm bliss; Tsu'tey would have to tell you later that he's the one who dressed you back up). Time moved slowly, but you loved it that way.
You two had all the time in the world.
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You had woken up sometime before dawn, and the bioluminescence from the Tree of Voices had nearly faded by now. You shifted around in your sleep at one point to be on top of Tsu'tey, curled up against his chest. He had one arm wrapped firmly across your waist, while his other hand was resting on top of his knife. Even in his sleep, he was a warrior. You let out a soft snort at the realization before you could stop yourself, rousing Tsu'tey from his slumber. His eyes opened to find yours, going slightly wide before relaxing again, as if he was afraid that last night was just a dream that he made up in his head. But it wasn't. You were real, awake, next to him. And you were smiling at him.
"Sorry for waking you up," you whisper apologetically, craning your neck to look up at him. He groaned quietly in response, merely throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the sunlight looming from the horizon. You had to fight back another laugh. Not a morning person. Got it.
"Are you truly sorry? Or did you just want my attention?" he asks playfully, voice delightfully raspy and low from sleep.
"Oh, I don't know," you say, innocently tracing shapes in his chiseled abdomen. "Now that I think about it, maybe I did want your attention."
He laughed a genuine laugh, the kind that you could hear vibrating in his chest and could feel in his shaking shoulders. "Whatever my mate wants, she gets," he replies with a smile, kissing the top of your head.
My mate. My mate.
Yeah, you could get used to that.
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ty for reading!
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spidervee · 1 year
Text
afterglow (tangerine x reader)
summary: tangerine finds himself falling for the girl next door (part 1/3) words: 3.1k warnings: fem!reader, lotsa swears, sexual thoughts, implied sexual situations, implied violence, implied drug use, no use of y/n, neighbours to lovers trope, tangerine's angry inner monologue is a warning all its own, lemon being the best
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You’re determined to move your groceries from the boot of your car to the front porch in a single trip. Mind, there’s not more than a dozen or so steps between the two, but it’s the principle of the matter—one trip is so much more satisfying than two. However, your determination did not account for the fact that you bought a family-sized box of Cheerios, a bag of flour, and a carton of eggs along with your usual run of fruits, vegetables, and pasta. Thus, you’re more than a little off-balance as you shoulder your canvas tote bags, your body tilting dangerously toward the left as you try to close the boot with the three fingers on your right hand that remain free. You miss, staggering forward and hitting your knees against the bumper and hissing out a curse.
“You quite alright there, love?” An amused voice distracts you from the pain of what will doubtlessly become a tender spot, though the sudden realisation that you have an audience is horrible, embarrassment flooding through you as you straighten up and try to look composed. 
“Brilliant,” you call back, refusing to look at the man you know is watching you. It’s the bloke next door, on the right, the tall one with the blue eyes and the weirdly retro moustache and the suits that look far too expensive for this neighbourhood. 
You’ve never exchanged more than a few words at a time with him, only interacting when necessary—the time a package of his got delivered to your porch, the time your cat climbed the drooping branches of the willow tree in his yard, and the time he’d nearly run you over with his car during your morning run. Admittedly, that last time had been rather terse, though it hadn’t stopped the minimal pleasantries neighbours were meant to exchange. The two of you still nodded politely at one another if you happened to cross paths. Sometimes you’d give a wave that he would return with a slightly more emphatic nod than his usual. 
So, it surprises you when he starts down his drive toward yours, flicking away the cigarette that had been dangling from his lips moments earlier. You try to hastily correct yourself, balance your posture, rearrange your bags so that you don’t look so helplessly overwhelmed, but his legs are too long and he’s by your side in just a few strides, helping you shrug off one of the totes, and then another. 
“Gonna break your bloody back,” he mutters, tone disapproving as he lifts the bags effortlessly in one hand and carries them to your front door. 
“I was managing,” you say sharply, embarrassment getting the best of you. He snorts, a derisive noise that only seeks to send your guard up even further, a scowl writing itself across your face. “I was!” 
“A simple thank you is all I need, love.” He turns to face you with those dazzling blue eyes and your throat feels suddenly dry, your body pinned under his stare. You want to protest, to underscore the fact that you’ve unloaded your groceries alone more than a hundred times and his little show of chivalry was entirely unnecessary. 
But all you can do is swallow, watching as his tattooed hands pull a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his tailored trousers. 
“Thanks,” you mutter. A grin turns up the corners of his mouth as he lights his cigarette and presses it between his lips. With a nod, he’s heading down your steps and back to his own porch, not another word exchanged between the two of you. 
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You can’t stop thinking about him, damn it. Three days later and you’re still remembering the way his eyes danced over you, somehow appraising and appreciative all at once. You think you want to see more of him, feel his hands, that moustache scratching along the inside of your thighs. 
Maybe it’s been a while since you got laid. 
Because you shouldn’t be having these thoughts about the bloke next door—he’s definitely dodgy. He keeps odd hours and disappears for questionable stretches of time. He only ever has one visitor, a friendly bloke, sure, but almost as dodgy, driving a different car nearly every month. And you’re fairly certain you once saw him coming home with blood spattered on his crisp white shirt—not that you were watching, no, you’d just happened to be bringing in the shopping at the time. 
Still, when you find yourself out of sugar in the middle of baking cookies for tomorrow’s fundraiser, you’re desperate. And Mrs. Barry on the left is out at her daughter’s, so you’ve no choice but to go knock on the door and ask porn-stache if he can do you a real quick favour. 
You’re not sure what’s worse. That he answers the door with a gruff “whaddaya want?” 
Or that he’s shirtless, belt buckle hanging open and trousers slung low around his hips. 
“Sugar,” you manage to squeak out. And he raises a thick eyebrow at you, amused. 
“Right, sorry,” he grins, the gruffness gone in favour of something almost teasing. “Whaddaya want, sugar?”
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Tangerine never gets visitors, unless he’s counting Lemon. He doesn’t count Lemon because it’s fuckin’ Lemon. There’s obligation there. Call it business. Call it brotherly love. Call it bloody codependency. 
And Lemon has a key. He never knocks. In fact, knocking is utterly fucking suspect in Tangerine’s humble opinion. It meant you were either going to open the door to the world’s dumbest fuckin’ assassin or someone was trying to lure you into a false sense of security. Or it was the lad delivering curry. But he hadn’t ordered any curry. 
So it’s not his fault, really, when he slips his gun into his back pocket before opening the door. The heft of it pulls his trousers ever so slightly more down his hips, but he’d been about to get into the shower and whoever the bastard at the door is doesn’t deserve his decency, not when they’re knocking on his fucking door like he’s invited them over for tea. 
But when he opens the door, his brow furrows immediately because there’s that sweet-looking bird from next door just stood on his bloody porch like she belongs there, eyes wide and a shy smile on her face. Tangerine takes care to puff up his chest a little bit because suddenly he’s not so terribly annoyed. 
Although the gun pressing into his tailbone is a fucking nuisance. 
There’s a plate in your hands, piled high with something that’s wrapped in aluminium, and you hold it out in his direction by way of greeting. Tangerine just looks at your offering, unaccustomed to receiving things. 
“Cookies,” you explain, “From the sugar I borrowed.” 
His brain searches for a snarky remark, a teasing word, anything to make this feel less intimate than it does because you’re standing on his porch with cookies you made for him like he’s not a bloody bastard who killed six men in Cape Town three weeks ago. But, his traitorous brain supplies nothing—not a single syllable to his suddenly parched tongue. 
So, he blinks at you, unsure what to say. His first instinct is to laugh, but he manages to suppress that and instead allows you to instead shove the plate of cookies into his hands and wave an awkward little goodbye. 
“Thanks,” he mutters, watching you walk away with the oddest sense of déja vu. But your front door has already closed behind you. 
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Inside, Tangerine sets the plate aside on the corner of the counter, beside the spice rack and tucked away so he doesn’t have to think about the cookies. It’s less about the cookies themselves and more about the inkling of warmth that filled him when you graciously handed him the plate, a small smile playing on your lips like you knew they were fucking delicious. 
He has no intention of eating them. For all he knows, they’re laced with bloody poison. More likely, though, is that they’ll taste like the things he’s missing in his life and that’s so much more fucking depressing. 
He decides to shower, if for no other reason than to wash away the feelings you’ve left like electricity rippling along his skin. And, if he’s being honest, the shower is the best place for him to think about you right now. For…reasons. 
When he emerges, he’s calmer and decidedly happier…until he spies Lemon at his kitchen island, the plate of your cookies—his cookies—open in front of him. 
“Bruv, these cookies are fucking ace.” 
“No, you daft cunt don’t eat those!” 
Lemon doesn’t even pause in chewing, fixing his brother with a confused stare, eyebrows quirked. “Why the hell not?” 
“They’re…fucking hell, Lemon can’t you just listen?” Tangerine is incensed, hands wringing, “You always hafta ask a million questions like you’re the fucking coppers. Really gets on my tits, you know?”
“You’re angry,” Lemon says through a mouthful of cookie. 
“Bloody brilliant observation. Sherlock fucking Holmes over here. Call Scotland fucking Y….” 
“It’s not about the cookies.” Lemon cuts off his ranting with a well-timed observation. 
Tangerine breathes out heavily through his nose. “Sod off.” 
“Is it about a girl?” 
“Not a bloody girl.” 
“A boy?” 
“For Chrissake, Lemon we’re not in the fourth fucking grade!” 
“It’s that pretty little bird next door, innit?” 
“Fuck off.” 
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He returns the plate with a handwritten note on a Post-It. His penmanship is nice enough, a neat if somewhat loopy cursive, telling you thank you for the cookies. It was Lemon’s fucking idea, being neighbourly and all that shite. He rings your bell, glad when you don’t answer so he can simply leave the plate on your welcome mat. 
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You’re pruning roses the next time he sees you and the look of focus on your face, the way your tongue pokes out from between your lips, almost makes him smile—bloody fucking hell, who is he? 
Unlucky for him, you notice him and wave, shears in your raised hand so you look a bit barmy until you realise you’re waving a weapon around and quickly tuck them sheepishly behind your back. Tangerine, in a stunning display of idiocy that he will later want to smash his head into a wall over, begins to walk toward you. Like you’re a goddamn magnet. No, stronger than that. The sunshine around which the fucking earth of his own body has begun to orbit. Gravity makes no fucking sense anymore because if it did he would not be falling for the cute smile you fix him with, the stunningly normal and carefree way you adjust your sunhat and point out that your climbing roses are almost taller than you; the manner in which you wrinkle your nose at him and inform him—as if he doesn’t fucking know—that you don’t even know his name. 
He gives you the name on his most recent fake ID, Andrew—a perfectly nice and proper name, but then shakes his head. “Mates just call me Tangerine,” he tells you, neglecting to say that his enemies call him that as well, along with some choice other words.
“Tangerine?” More nose wrinkling and Tangerine is ready to take his own knees out with a billy club because they’re getting weaker by the fucking second standing here with you. 
“It’s a footie thing,” he lies, “That bloke you see coming and going is Lemon. He plays goal” 
“You play football?” 
More lies. More small talk. Until Lemon’s car pulls up and Tangerine is torn between relieved to see his brother and wanting to throw him off the fucking face of the earth. He tells you he best be going. You nod, holding out your hand, encased as it is in thick gardening gloves up to the elbow. 
“It was nice to meet you, Tang—oh! Sorry, is it just a footie thing?”
He takes your proffered hand and gives it a small squeeze. “No, love, you can call me whatever you’d like.” 
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It’s 3 in the morning and you can’t sleep, tossing and turning as seemingly every embarrassing childhood moment comes back to haunt you from the depths of your mind. Since your bedroom is no refuge and you don’t particularly feel like catching anything on the telly, you seek a moment of solace on the porch, wondering if maybe, for once, the stars are out. 
But the only light, aside from the artificial yellow of the streetlamps, is the low glow of cigarette embers on Tangerine’s porch and you narrow your eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of his figure in the shadowy night. 
“Can’t sleep, love?” His voice rings through the silence and you take it as an invitation to walk over and join him. 
“One of those nights, I guess.” You shrug as you drop down onto the porch swing next to him. It’s an oddly homey thing to have there, you think, for a man who is not always home. Tangerine makes a noise of agreement in his throat. He’s familiar with those nights, has them every so often when his birthday is coming up and those incessant thoughts about what he’s done with his life start to creep up on him. 
The two of you sit in comfortable silence until your head drops to the side, landing on his shoulder. If Tangerine is surprised by the contact, he doesn’t show it, remaining still other than the slight shift to accommodate you. 
There, on his porch, in the summer heat, you fall asleep against Tangerine, leaving him to glance up at the starless sky in askance because it all feels alarmingly normal and he doesn’t hate it.  
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There’s screaming on the lawn. Not his lawn, so he shouldn’t really get involved, but the angry voice of a man calls out your name and his ears perk up, less out of interest and more out of a sudden desire to murder any bastard who dares raise his voice at you. 
Quietly, Tangerine slips out his front door to see what’s unfolding. You’re stood on your porch, arms crossed over your chest in defiance. There’s a man on the lawn, consumed by rage by the looks of it, and Tangerine contemplates popping inside to grab his gun.
“You stupid bitch!” 
“Get the fuck out.” Your voice is hard and Tangerine feels a stitch of pride at how stoic and unaffected you look by the absolute meltdown happening ten feet in front of you. But then, the man threatens to kill you and Tangerine is across his yard faster than he’s ever moved before, his fingers wrapped tightly around this fucking bloke’s wrist, staying him.  
“I think fucking not, mate,” Tangerine’s voice is low and threatening. “You touch her and I will cut every fucking one of your fingers off then shove them up your bastard arse before I fucking kill you. You don’t even fucking look at her. Tuck you tail between your legs and get the fuck out of here before you make me do something I’m gonna have too much fun doing to fucking regret.” 
It all happens quickly after that. The man shrugs Tangerine off, curses at him, looks about to pick a fight but must see the seasoned glint of violence in his blue eyes because he curses again and leaves in the car that’s been idling in front of your house the entire time. 
Tangerine turns to look at you with a raised eyebrow and he knows it’s a stupid fucking thing to say but he goes ahead and says it anyways because he can’t fucking help himself. “Didn’t mention you had a boyfriend, love.” 
To his surprise, you laugh. Loud. Heartily. It almost makes the tears that have welled up in your eyes disappear, but he can still see them. “That wanker was not my boyfriend.” When he looks at you, silently giving you space to continue, you sigh. “Brother,” you clarify, “He stops by once in a while for money.” 
Tangerine nods and you step into the front door, leaving it ajar for him to follow. “I’m making some tea,” you call over your shoulder, “Care to join me?” 
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After that, he starts stopping in regularly. 
At first it’s just tea, sipped across from one another at the small glass table in your breakfast nook. Tangerine greets your cat, settles into his seat, talks about the latest book he’s reading. You try not to smile too big when Shelley, the cat in question, curls up on Tangerine’s lap, nor when he pretends to be cross about fur on his expensive pants. You pour the tea, respond in kind about the things you’re reading, complain a little bit about work and eventually, because he doesn’t offer the information freely, ask what it is he does for a living. 
You’re not sure what you were expecting, but when, with zero hesitation, he tells you he’s a banker you’re a little surprised. 
Soon, tea turns into suppers spent with your feet kicked up on the coffee table, plates balanced on laps—much to Shelley’s dismay as it means Tangerine’s legs are unavailable for snuggling.
You find yourself growing fonder of this man who has carved his way into your heart, made a place for himself amongst the fixtures of your home. He’s got sharp edges, certainly, yet you can’t help but to get caught on them, snagged on the roughness of him. 
After six or seven or eight dinners—you’ve lost count—you realise you want more. You don’t want to say goodbye to him only to retreat to your empty bed and thoughts of his hands and his lips. So when he says he ought to be going, you take a leap of faith. 
“Wait,” you whisper, gathering your nerve, hoping you haven’t grossly misjudged the situation. “Stay?” You voice quivers on the word, makes you sound uncertain, so you steel your nerves and try again. “I want you to stay.” 
It’s the first time you’ve seen Tangerine look flummoxed, look anything less than totally and completely sure of himself. He leans in slightly, clasps his hand over where you’re still holding his arm. “Love,” his voice is low, so dangerously low you might just fall into him straining to hear, “If I stay…” 
His words trail off, but you know what he’s implying. If he stays then you’ve crossed a line there’s no uncrossing. If he stays, he’ll want all of you that you’re willing to give. If he stays, he’ll absolutely ruin you for anyone who might come after him. 
“Stay,” you repeat, pressing your forehead to his. 
So he does. 
2K notes · View notes
xxelleswrittingxx · 11 months
Text
A Curious Predator
Warnings: non-con smut, somnophilia, NeytirixHuman!reader, AFAB!reader
Synopsis: Reader is lost in the Pandoran forest and Neytiri stalks her, but with this being her first time meeting a human and seeing that the reader is asleep, she grows curious about their anatomy.
AN: This is my first time writing a fic so critical feedback is appreciated, I'm thinking of writing a part 2 so let me know if you have any ideas!
Eclipse had started and the temperature was beginning to drop. Y/N found this to be a relief from the hot humidity that clung to their skin. Countless hours of searching for the route back to their comrades meant exhaustion and sticky clothes.
Doctor L/N was a scientist working on Pandora. This was the second time they had ventured out into the forest with other co-workers in hopes of samples and field experience, only this was the first time getting lost. The search for the next undiscovered fungi lead them astray, in their own world of passion for work.
The unfaithful com-call screwed them over, a limited range would only get you so far in the vast forests of Pandora. After realisation of having to stick out the night, Y/N decided to set up camp. A groove between the roots of a large tree would do, but the shelter only helped a bit to ease the fear of Pandoran predators that would be lurking. That, and the knife strapped to their shorts.
The stress of the last few hours was setting in and Y/N couldn't hold back the sleep that drooped their eyes. Neon vegetation and the soft chirping of nightlife soothed them to sleep.
Neytiri felt wide awake though.
The excitement of hunting down new prey never seemed to grow predictable. She noticed your blundering over fallen branches a while ago and knew of her duty to put a stop to you wandering close to home tree. So she followed from above.
That's why the smirk crept onto her lips when she saw you falling asleep. This was easier than she could have predicted. Not that she expected much difficulty, with you being a sky person she knew of the advantages she had over you. Not only her physical capabilities but her knowledge and experience of hunting in the forest. She almost pitied you. So small and dumb, unable to prevent yourself from giving in to sleep, leaving yourself vulnerable.
She decided to get a closer look. The view she's had of you from up in the trees allowed for her to go unnoticed, but now with you unconscious she needn't worry. Curiosity seems to have gotten the best of her. She drops down to the next branch. A soft purple glow illuminates your silhouette. You seem so different from the Navi, more curves and less skin to see with the heavy looking garments you wear.
She wants a closer look. Thoughts seem to be rushing through her mind. How she shouldn't get closer, but what's the harm if nobody knows?
And so she crawls down a few more branches. Now laying across the one that hangs directly above you. Neytiri's yellow eyes graze across you harsher. She's never been this close to a human before.
She takes in all the new details. Soft skin without markings, a tank top and shorts that cover so much, heavy boots, and a tube that sits below your nose and behind your ears. Her gaze follows it down your neck, chest, and waist to where it connects to the Exo pack clipped to your waistband. Above it is a sliver of skin that peaks out between your clothes. She feels an urge to touch it, and this bothers her. She feels guilty about wanting to get this close to the human. Again her curiosity gets the best of her.
Neytiri slips around the thick branch until she can hang above you by her hands. She drops down onto the ground you lay on. With her large feet on either side of your waist, the only evidence of her disturbance is the purple moss that glows beneath her weight.
Her head tilts at the sight of you, not even a twitch at the new presence. You have no clue about the danger you could be in. Neytiri considers that she could eliminate you here, now, and move on to go home. Let her parents know about her success in protecting the clan from a sky person.
But she can't bring herself to, not with your soft features that seem to draw her in. Before she realizes it she's knelt above you. Her blue digits graze down the bridge of your nose, so different from her. She tilts her head towards the side of yours to see your profile. Your nose bridge protrudes out... and she wants to keep looking. She wants to see what else is different.
She runs her finger over your lips next. So big compared to them. She can't fathom how much bigger she is. How she could overpower you so easily, and this sparks something inside of her. A deep tingling inside her stomach. Neytiri blames this on her heat that should be coming soon.
Neytiri ponders over your mouth, she lifts the corner of your top lip and looks at the tiny teeth you have. Blunt with small fangs. She smiles at the cuteness. But this time you twitch and stretch your head away from the invasive hands.
She waits for you to settle into your new position and moves on downwards. Your exposed neck is enticing and she leans close to take a whiff. The scent is exhilarating. It tingles in her nose to the back of her head and down her spine to the tip of her arched tail. She breathes in deeply again, but then she feels her mouth water...
Oh Eywa, how she feels the urge to taste your flesh.
Neytiri flinches away at these thoughts. She knows she should stop here but she can't. Instead, she moves lower. One of your arms is across your waist, the other is up by your head. Your chest is left exposed and the cool air is evaporating the sweat off your skin.
Peaked nipples catch the Navi's attention. She runs her finger around the bud and a soft intake of breath makes her ears twitch. She flinches away again, but this time in fear that you've woken up. Neytiri knew she should have stopped, stupid!
Your exhaustion was greater than expected, you were still deep under. Neytiri has another intake of scent and is drawn in once again. Blue digits are back on the peaks straining against cotton. Gentle circles are drawn around it. Your steady breath starts to grow heavier at the new stimulation and Neytiri picks up on this. Does the tiny human enjoy this? Her lips part at this and the digits move onto the second breast. A little rougher results in soft twitches.
The Navi picks up on the shift in scent, a little bit muskier, almost spicy. She rolls the bud between callused digits and ears perk at the soft mewl it receives. Her lips part into a soft gasp and the smirk makes its way back again.
How could you enjoy this so much? She doesn't understand, can touching your breasts feel that good? So with one hand on your small body, the other goes to touch her own. Eyes trained on your expression she feels herself start to reflect it.
Heavy breathing. Twitches. Soft mewls.
She wants to see more. Big hands grasp your shirt and slowly draw it up to your neck. Neytiri scootches down your body so she can lean towards your chest. Her hot breath precedes her wet tongue that slips over your pebbled nipple, big eyes stare up to take in your reaction. The breast against Neytiri's mouth pushes up as your chest expands with a quick gasp of air. She likes the reaction so she continues the motion of licking over you, switching from left to right and back again. Trying to pull more from you.
Each sound sends jolts through her body. She feels the need to rub her thighs together but can't with you between them. This must be her heat starting.
Looking further down your body, Neytiri sets her sight on your shorts. Her head tilts as she wonders if there is also different or the same. And so she gets to work with the task of undoing the tiny button and zipper, she's never worked these before and struggles with her lack of knowledge and large hands.
Finally, the button is undone, but she fears she may have jostled you too much. You stretch in your sleep again, but the Navi isn't as worried as before, she suspects that you must be dehydrated or have heat stroke from how deep of a slumber you seem to be under.
CLICK CLICK CLICK
The teeth of your zipper come undone one by one and Neytiris perked ears take in each sound.
She thinks of pulling down your shorts but instead decides to slip her fingers in. She really doesn't know what to do if you wake up in the middle of this, but she trusts her instincts.
Her fingers brush past a soft patch of hair and into a pool of wetness. Her jaw drops and she truly understands your reaction to her touch. With a shift of her hips, she realizes that she's just as bad as you.
Her fingers continue their exploration and she feels the bundle of nerves at the crest of your folds. She smirks as she recognizes the similar anatomy and decides to circle it, a touch she has experienced herself when she is in the midst of her heat.
Heavier mewls escape your lips and Neytiri is trained on the way your brows furrow. Soft rubbing turns harder and your hips twitch. Cobalt nostrils twitch to take in the heavy musk that is filling the air, she recognizes her own scent mixing with your own and it satisfies a feral part inside of her. Fingers dip further down and she feels your tiny opening with her fingers, could you take them, she wonders? Maybe one...her palm rubs your clit and she circles her middle finger around your opening. Hips buck up into her and she slips the tip in.
You're so tight that she worries she will rip you, but from your expression she reads that all you feel is pleasure, and so she continues on. Slick noises come from inside your shorts and Neytiri feels her clit throb. Eywa, she watches your face and wishes that she could have those pretty eyes on her. Wishes to know what colour they are. Wishes to hear you beg.
She works soft but steady and feels you tighten on her. You're close. Head turned into the glowing moss and breathing heaving, the peak is right there.
Just as you're about to come, Neytiri leans in close to rub her nose and cheek all over you. Your body tenses and soft moans fall from your lips. The Pandoran feels satisfied with the reaction to her touch and how your scent is now mixed with hers. She slips her fingers out of your shorts and into her mouth. Ears flicked back and tail swishing she savours the taste of you.
She does your shorts up and allows your breathing to return to normal. Satisfied for now she climbs back up the tree to continue watching you.
The curiosity that got her into this whole situation is not satisfied, if anything it has grown stronger. Neytiri wants to know what colour your eyes are. What you sound like when you beg. She knows she will figure this out eventually. But for now she will watch until you wake up.
758 notes · View notes
magicalbats · 6 months
Text
Kinktober Day 8: Breeding
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Rating: R-18+
Word Count: 6762
Warnings: Afab!reader, Hunter/prey, noncon, baby trapping, lots of pregnancy talk, biting, marking, doggy style (Heh), vaginal sex, cream pie, pheromones, sex pollen? Kind of?? Don't know what else to call it lol
The forest could be a dangerous place if you didn’t keep your eyes open and pay attention. That was the very first thing he’d taught you. A hard lesson to learn after you’d nearly tumbled straight off a high embankment right into the croc infested waters below, just because you’d been a bit too distracted by the lush scenery to watch where you were going. He’d chided and lectured you for upwards of twenty minutes about safety, situational awareness, common sense and self preservation after none too gently yanking you back from the unseen ledge. 
A mother hen. That’s what you’d thought of him at the time. 
But he’d never warned you about this. Had never told you what to do when the impending threat did not stem from the forest itself or the wildlife that inhabited it. When he was the danger nipping at your heels rather than the crocs or the jaguars, or the territorial fungi defending their young. 
Somewhere along the way you seem to have forgotten that Tighnari was still a predator no matter how polite or friendly he may have otherwise seemed. 
Twigs and branches snap a deafening chorus around you as you barrel through the underbrush, barely even seeing where you’re running but just knowing you had to flee. It wasn’t so much a higher functioning thought as it was an instinctive compulsion that had gripped you in a chilling fist when you saw the way he’d looked at you back at the small camp. The way he’d prowled towards you, his well groomed tail stiff and flicking out behind him. You’d never seen Tighnari look at anyone like that before, least of all yourself, and it had scared you. There was no denying that when you were currently making a mad dash through the damp, sticky rainforest on the slim hope you’d be able to make it back to Gandharva Ville and dissuade him from further pursuit. 
But you also felt hot in a way that did not seem to have anything to do with exertion or the muggy, oppressive atmosphere in the oxygen dense environment. A bit dizzy, even though you should have had more than enough stamina to make the sprint without becoming faint. 
Confused and gasping, you reluctantly slow to a stop and reach out to brace your sweaty palm against the rough bark of a tree. The opposite hand presses over your middle, clutching at the deep stitch in your gut that was making it so difficult to breathe. What was happening to your body, now of all times? You don’t get to linger on that thought for very long. 
A soft, deliberate rustle of leaves somewhere behind you brings your head up with a sharp snap. Not only was Tighnari close but he wanted you to know it. You’d watched him track a large male boar that had turned overly aggressive at the height of its mating season rut without making more than a whisper on the forest floor. The wild, mindless thing hadn’t even realized it was in danger until it was much too late … He never would have allowed you to hear him moving around like that unless he wanted you to. 
Wait. 
Mating season? Rut? 
Your eyes go big, widening to the approximate size of dinner plates. But before you can fully process the implication of what that would mean, what it would suggest, you hear the snap of a branch directly behind you and quickly spin around. 
Tighnari offers you what you think is supposed to be an apologetic smile. But his usually crystal clear eyes are so shuttered and glazed over with some unknown heat that it does absolutely nothing to comfort you. The stark flush staining his round cheeks seems to stand out against his complexion like someone had taken harsh brushstrokes to his face. Perhaps most incriminating of all, though, is the way his sharply pointed, proud ears curl down to droop low over his skull. He was visibly a wreck, and he looks at you across the scant distance like you were dinner. 
“Sorry about that,” He murmurs in such a hushed voice you have to strain to hear it. “I knew this time of year was coming, but I thought I’d be able to better control myself than this. I wasn’t expecting you to start ovulating at the same time.” 
A shudder dances up your spine and you straighten, subconsciously digging your fingers into your stomach as you let go of the tree. So that was it, then. “It’s okay.” You whisper back. You were frantically trying to sort through your whirlwind thoughts without setting him off any further, avoiding both quick movements and loud noises. Maybe if you just stayed very, very still … “You just startled me, is all. I thought you were mad at me or something so I thought I’d head back early.” 
You force a quiet laugh, hoping to ease some of the tension sparking between you and him, but when Tighnari opens his mouth nothing comes out. He looks like he wants to groan as he slowly drags his gaze down your front, lingering briefly on your chest before sinking lower to lock on the hand you’ve got cupped around your middle. Shoulders stiffening in response, you force yourself to uncurl your arm and let it hang at your side. It doesn’t work though, and his hazy eyes remain locked on your belly even when you take a shuffling step back. 
Oh, this was not good. This wasn’t good at all. 
“Tighnari - -“ You start to say, but he cuts you off before you can try to reason with him. 
“Can you feel it too? The surge of hormones, the sensitivity … is your blood pumping as fast as mine is right now?” He takes a sedate step towards you then, and you quickly back up another pace. Looking a little sad about that, a little disappointed, he seems to force himself to stand still instead of pressing closer. “Humans can be funny creatures, you know. They’re just as susceptible to changes in environment as any other living organism, but they often overlook the real reason for their sudden mood swings or shifts in behavior. They think it’s some higher force dictating their actions. Like their sentience absolves them from hormonal influence.”
He pauses then, looking at you with such barely contained animal hunger it makes every single hair on your body stand on end. It was like he wanted to consume you. Rip you open and gorge himself on everything right down to the bones. Suddenly, you weren’t sure if he wanted to mate with you or eat you alive. 
But he just licks his lips after a time, clearly struggling to rein in his control. “I know you’re scared. I can taste it on the back of my tongue, but I promise I have no intention of hurting you. It’s just — sudden, isn’t it?” 
“That’s an understatement.” You grumble even as you force yourself to draw a deep, shuddering breath meant to ground you and calm your nerves.
But when you let it out with a stilted exhale Tighnari faintly shivers as if you’d physically touched him, his eyes slipping shut in what could only be savory pleasure. You can see his tail eagerly flicking behind him, like his every instinct was screaming at him to pounce and to claim, and to take; and a fresh wave of horror washes over you when you realize he’s scenting you on the air. Whatever you were currently feeling was only a very small, dulled fraction compared to his heightened senses. 
Idly, you think you should try running again, but he speaks before you can muster up the courage to follow through. 
“Do you know what else I taste? Arousal. So hot and thick it’s even overpowering your fear response. I don’t think you realize how innate your body’s reaction is to me right now.” Letting out a shuddering exhale of his own, Tighnari slowly looks at you again with an expression that is so miserable, so needy, it makes your knees grow weak.
And not because you were scared, you’re more than a little horrified to realize. 
“You’re so fertile it’s making it hard to even think straight. All I want to do is pin you down and bury myself in you for hours on end, and your subconscious hormonal response tells me you want the same. Humans can’t go into heat. Not really, anyway. They’ve long since lost the need for seasonal mating cues when they can reproduce at any time of the year thanks to their societal based advantages … but I think you’re the closest you can get to it right now. You don’t understand why you want me to take you to mate but you do feel compelled, don’t you?” 
You probably would have laughed if your heart wasn’t wedged inside your throat, threatening to choke you. Even at the height of his rut — that was the only thing you could think to call it — he was still so scientifically minded and intelligent that he was actively analyzing the situation, even lecturing you in the gentle, prodding way he always nudged you towards the right answer. It was almost insidious how benign this conversation would have otherwise been if you hadn’t been doing everything in your power to ignore the sharp throb in your lower belly. 
He was right. You did indeed feel a stifling amount of desire for him and your cunt seemed to squeeze around nothing every single time he mentioned or even alluded to mating, claiming, heat and, perhaps most alarming of all, reproduction. It was as if a venomous worm had crawled inside your brain while you were sleeping and taken up root there, influencing your decision making with its potent toxin. Your judgment was extremely clouded, yes, but even despite that you still recognized what a dangerous game this was. How foolish you would have been to play it. 
You wanted him, in that moment, more than you could ever remember wanting anything else, but the consequences of taking that plunge were another matter entirely. It was just too soon. You were still a young researcher, still had plenty of time to give yourself over to another and make a family together. Maybe it would be with Tighnari, maybe not. But like this? You just couldn’t rationalize it in your head. 
“Listen to me carefully,” You finally speak up, feeling like you were facing off with a very dangerous apex predator when his ears give an aggressive twitch and attentatively swivel towards you. “I understand what you’re saying. I feel it too. There’s no denying that, but I don’t think this is a good idea for either of us. You have so many responsibilities already and I do too. This isn’t the kind of decision we should make on a whim. I can’t — I don’t think I’m ready for that.” 
Rather than backing down, he surprises you by taking a sudden step forward. “If it’s your livelihood you’re worried about, I make more than enough to support you as well as any kits we might have. I can take care of you.” 
“K - kits!” You stammer, absolutely gobsmacked. 
“Yes, and it’s not like it’s unheard of for female researchers to suddenly become pregnant during their studies at the Akademiya or shortly after graduation. This is a normal part of life, and some of them even manage to return to their fields after having children. It doesn’t mean an end to your work, just a … pause in it.” 
You just stand there, gaping at him in shock and disbelief alike. That was all quite easy for him to say because he wouldn’t have to worry about the toll it would have on his body, the strain and stress of giving birth to another tiny, helpless life or taking care of it afterward the same way you would be expected to. He couldn’t make milk to feed a baby, he wouldn’t need to pause his work to stay up late tending to it or take hours out of his day to change and clean the damned thing. All of that would fall on you, and even if you could somehow manage to find enough energy to work on your research while juggling an infant at the same time … how much would you realistically be able to devote to those pursuits? How much would you waste just raising the offspring he was trying to foist on you? 
Going through with this would spell the end of your career and he had to have known that, so why? Why was he looking at you like what he’d said was perfectly reasonable and logical? Like you were the one with the problem? 
Your stomach cramps so hard it threatens to bowl you over on the spot and you stumble, blindly reaching back to brace against the tree again. He watches you do it with so much attentive interest it makes you feel vaguely like a bug being studied under a microscopic lens but you’re a bit too focused on trying not to hyperventilate to pay it much mind. You felt like you were going to be sick. Never before have you experienced such suffocating, oppressive dread and you have no idea how to process any of it. 
But then, he makes the decision for you. 
When he takes another step closer you bolt, lurching into a dead sprint that nearly sends you tripping head over heels into the underbrush. You manage to keep your balance though, somehow, and you careen through the trees at such a blind dash it’s a wonder you don’t knock yourself out slamming into anything. 
The heavy sound of his footfalls behind you doesn’t come as a shock but it does encourage you to run faster, harder, your legs screaming in protest while you gallop across the uneven terrain as fast as they can carry you. A stray root catches your foot and makes you stumble, but even then you don’t stop. It feels like your heart is going to erupt right out of your chest cavity at any given moment and you just keep running like your life depended on it because, well. It probably did. 
You aren’t sure how far you actually make it or for how long he lets the pursuit go on, but you’re distinctly aware of him right on your heels the entire time, much to the detriment of your quaking nerves. Tighnari keeps pace with you easily enough though, making it quite clear that you were at a sore disadvantage in the forest he knew like the back of his own hand, and you realize it’s a losing battle long before he actually puts an end to it. You weren’t sure how much more of this terrible hunt your body could handle. 
You’re so strung out that it almost comes as a relief when he finally slams into you from behind and lands on top of you in the dirt and grass, crushing you under his sturdy weight. Gasping and heaving from the impact as much as exertion, you jerk your head up as if to scream — thinking perhaps you were close enough to Gandharva Ville that someone might hear you — but you don’t get the chance. 
Aggressively curling himself over your shuddering body, Tighnari slips a gloved hand under your jaw to keep your neck craned back and slams his mouth against yours. It’s not so much a kiss as it is nipping teeth and bared fangs, but it still muffles the plaintive shriek you let out against his lips. You feel him shift on top of you and slowly grind against your ass, his knees forcing you to stay in place where they bracket your hips, and you outright choke at the hard press of his straining cock. He takes quick advantage of it and delves his tongue into your mouth, claiming every inch of you he can reach as you groan around the intrusion. 
It’s like there’s a second heartbeat between your legs now, just as frantic and uncontrollable as the one in your chest, and it pulses so hard it almost hurts when he humps you with increasingly fast, stuttering snaps of his hips. You think he’s completely lost control if he can’t even wait to get your pants down, the total absence of his usual calm, levelheaded demeanor a decidedly bad sign for how this was going to play out. You didn’t think you could stop him … but maybe, just maybe you could reason with him. 
“Tighnari!” You croak when he finally, abruptly disengages from your mouth. Sucking in harsh, gasping mouthfuls of air as he directs his attention to your jaw and your neck, mindlessly nipping at your skin, you desperately try to think of something to say that might persuade him to listen. Easier said than done, of course, but you finally settle on, “I don’t mind having sex with you - -“
“Thank you, thank you,” He practically sobs against your pulse, sounding so needy and desperate it inspires a sympathetic flutter low in your gut. “You’ll be an amazing mother, I just know it. Thank you.”
“N - no!” Blindly reaching around, you try to shove at him with one hand but it’s no use. He’s solid and unbudging on top of you. “We can have sex but — ahhn! But you can’t cum inside! Do you hear me? You have to pull out!” 
A vibrating growl rises low in his chest, bleeding into you as he seems to settle his weight more firmly across your back. You choke at the sensation of him laying out on top of you, his legs splayed wide to press the full brunt of his straining cock into your defenseless backside while his feet hook over your calves. In a move that would have greatly impressed you under better circumstances, he forces your legs apart in this prone position until it feels like the only thing stopping him from claiming you right then and there is the thin layer of clothes separating him from you. Completely vulnerable and helpless like this, all you can do is lay there and take it when he starts thrusting his hips again. 
“If we mate,” He snarls into your ear, grunting at the sensation of his cock dragging over your cunt. “There won’t be any stopping it. No pulling out. You will be mine and that will be the end of it.” 
Letting out a keening groan, so low and heavy it seems to make your eyes vibrate in their sockets, you weakly claw at the dirt in an attempt to ground yourself. You could tell you were slipping under now, your body running so hot on fast pumping adrenaline and potent endorphins that you couldn’t help but crave the release he promised. It was sickening, in a way, the instinctive arch of your back. The way you subtly angle your throbbing cunt up at him, welcoming the pressure of him digging into you. How he just keeps grinding and thrusting until you’re hyper aware of not only how soaked you were but how badly you actually wanted to feel him moving like that inside of you. 
You didn’t just want it, you needed it. 
“Ahhn … T - Tighnari! If you really get me pregnant - -“
“Not if.” He cuts across you so forcefully you seethe, squeezing your eyes shut in distress. “I will. There really isn’t any room for debate on this. You’re so fertile, sweetheart. I can taste it. Your mind might not be in agreement, but your body is just begging to be taken and bred. This is what you were made for, don’t you see?” 
Choking on your protests, you plaintively shake underneath him when he somehow manages to wedge his hands under your sweaty, heaving body. It’s a tight, pinching squeeze and you hiss as he palms at your top and roughly yanks to get it pulled up. Realizing what he’s doing, you twist underneath him with renewed frenzy but it’s useless. He’s got you so thoroughly pinned all you can do is let him inch it up bit by bit until your tits finally spill out and you seethe when they touch the cool ground. You didn’t really want to be taken like this, like an animal in the dirt, but even trying to desperately cling to your shirt isn’t enough to dissuade him, and he soon has it yanked right over your head. 
You just barely manage to snag at one of the sleeves when he carelessly tosses it aside, trying to pull it back towards you even if only so you can spread it out under your body, but you’re not quick enough. Tighnari’s hands immediately slip under you again, and you outright yelp when he squeezes at your chest in a much too tight hold. The sound that comes out of you is haggard and bleating, and he ignores it completely in favor of kneading the bountiful flesh with a quiet groan of his own. 
“You really were made for this,” He seems to marvel, the awed inflection in his raspy voice doing nothing to make you think it was a compliment. “Your breasts have a good shape and the weight of them is pleasing as well, but the fat distribution suggests you’ll not only produce high quality milk but plenty of it too. Even if we were to have twins, I suspect you would have no issues keeping them fed and happy.” 
You twist against his hold, hating the words as much as the way he squishes your tits in his fingers. “N - nooooo!” 
“Yes.” Shoving his face into the dampened crook of your neck, he issues another low snarl against your pulse. “Just thinking about you holding one of my kits to your chest is going to make me cum … I really don’t think I can control myself much longer. I'm so sorry, sweetheart, but … but I’m not going to let you up off the ground until I’m sure you’ve been properly bred. You’ll be with child long before I’m through with you today, I promise. I promise.” 
His breath catching as if just saying it was enough to make him feel pleasure unlike any other, Tighnari nuzzles into you with an affectionate little rumble in his throat that sounds oddly like a pur. It’s almost enough to stop you in your tracks, because you’ve never heard him make a sound like that before, but then he directs his fingers to the tips of your breasts and you can’t quite stop yourself from squawking when he latches onto the nipples. 
“These are also nice. A little small right now, but I’m sure that will quickly change once you start producing milk. They’re firm but pliant, and,” He pauses to give them a quick, biting pinch and a squeeze, making you wail underneath him. “Very receptive by the looks of it. That might prove to be an issue, though it shouldn’t be anything too major.” 
“Nghn … w - what do you mean?” 
“Hm? Oh, I just meant it might cause you some discomfort at first, with the fangs and all.” 
Groaning, you weakly drop your head to rest on the grass in complete and utter defeat. You were exhausted and horrified at how casually he was discussing this but even that was not enough to deter your own pulsing arousal from robbing you of the will to fight. His perfectly reasonable, if not breathless, manner of speaking on these matters wasn’t exactly helping either. It was a little hard to keep up the pretense of being an unwilling participant in all this when he made it sound so perfectly benign … so normal. So expected that you don’t protest when he hunches further over you to put his face close to yours; big, crystalline eyes taking in your expression from a scant few millimeters away. 
Evidently seeing that resignation reflected back at him, he tips his head and seals his mouth over yours. You accept his kiss without complaint this time, slowly giving yourself over to the steady pull of his lips. Rather than aggressive nipping and biting, it’s something much more tender and soft, and you moan faintly when he continues to flick over your nipples until they feel oversensitized and raw. It takes you a long beat to realize he’s stilled his hips, just resting on top of you now, but you don’t miss why. Even with a few layers of clothes between you and Tighnari, you can faintly make out the intense pulse of him where he’s pressed tight against your cunt. 
It doesn’t last long though, and you take a gasping breath of fresh air when he finally pulls back some moments later. His hands reluctantly drag down off your chest to find the hem of your pants, which he quickly fumbles with to get them pulled down. A fresh sense of urgency rushes in to replace the temporary calm that had fallen over the small clearing he’d pinned you in, and you quickly start to breathe harder as he works your last remaining clothes down your legs. You never thought you’d find yourself spread out on the forest floor like this … but there is no denying the way the vibrating tension in your body doubles, and then triples when you feel air hit your exposed backside. No denying how you shudder so intensely you feel sick with it, and arch your back to present yourself to him like — like a bitch in heat. 
“Tighnari, please!” 
Abruptly, he seems to give up and he leaves your slacks bunched around your thighs in favor of impatiently grabbing hold of your hips so he can yank you back against him. A startled yelp bursts out of you as you’re forced onto your hands and knees, trembling at the heavy press of his cock from behind. Tighnari grinds against you for a brief moment, emphasizing how very wet you are for him when his own slacks brush over your cunt to smear sticky slick, and then he’s quickly fumbling to get them shoved out of the way. 
Breasts swaying, you twist around to look back at him but you don’t get the chance to really see anything. One second he’s reaching between your bodies and the next he’s leaning into you, your mouth dropping open on a silent scream when the blunt head of him starts to sink into your entrance. You’d known you were heady with arousal but it still comes as something of a shock when he simply slides against your guts, gliding easily into your cunt until the sudden stretch becomes too much and you cry out. 
Softly shushing you, he readjusts his weight and brings both hands up to clutch at your hips again so he can hold you in place while he leans over you. You moan, haggard and strained, as he settles along your back not unlike before; but this time when he shoves his face into the crook of your neck he suddenly bites down. Hard. 
“Wait - -!”  
There’s nothing you can do to stop it. At first it’s just a sharp, debilitating pressure and then the next second you feel his teeth break the skin, tiny little canines sinking deep into flesh. The puncture wound burns on the tender side of your neck and you choke on some kind of hurt little animal sound, stiffly jerking against him. But you were effectively trapped with the risk of tearing open your own pulse hanging over your head like this, and all you can do is loose a frantic, pained groan when he starts to nudge his hips forward again, gradually sinking the rest of the way inside you. 
You understood now, why he’d delayed this long enough to let you relax into it and come to terms with the fact you even wanted it at all. He’d lulled you into a false sense of security just so you wouldn’t be fighting him tooth and nail when the time came for him to finally leave his mark on you … it was insidious and cruel, and you wince when each pulsing throb in your cunt seems to reflect in your neck. It’s not lost on you that this is a twofold attack meant to dominate and disable in the same breath, so stricken by the pain and the searing stretch that you just kneel there in the dirt without even making an attempt to struggle against it. 
Finally, he settles into your upturned ass and issues a huffy, muffled groan against your neck to send fresh jolts of hurt shooting through your nerves. His grip on your waist is bruising, but barely noticeable when compared to everything else you were feeling. For a drawn out beat, the two of you just stay like that, perfectly still and panting hard against each other until, at last Tighnari angles his cock back. It’s a stilted, painfully slow drag against your guts but he quickly pushes back in without pulling out all the way, jostling you slightly to make your tits sway. Hissing through clenched teeth, you dig your nails into the ground underneath you while he steadily works himself up to a quick, snappy pace that soon has you rocking against him to the loud plap, plap, plap of skin hitting skin. 
Without warning, he suddenly loosens his jaw and you outright wail at the sensation of his teeth receding from your skin. It’s immediately replaced by the soft, wet warmth of his tongue lapping at the wound as if to clean it, a soft whimper coming from him in apology. Still, though, he doesn’t stop fucking you, his rigid cock spearing up into your cunt so forcefully you sway unsteadily on your hands and knees. It was too much. He was jackhammering you way too hard, too fast, and you couldn’t brace against it. 
“Tighnari — wha - wait a second!” 
That faint, vaguely cat-like pur rises in him again and you shudder uncontrollably when it seems to vibrate straight through you. He turns his head to bury his face in your shoulder, panting and gasping while his hands abandon your aching hips in favor of groping at your front. Your tits were still tender after the first time though, and you can’t quite stop yourself from crying out when he pinches your nipples again. He grunts when your cunt clamps down around him in response then does it again, tugging at your sore little teats until you wildly buck underneath him. 
“Oh! Archons!”
That’s the last thing you manage to get out before the coil snaps. His cock is so hard and demanding that it seems to hit that spot deep inside you every time he plunges inside, and even devolving into a shuddering, writhing mess against him isn’t enough to make him slow down. He fucks you right through it even when you whine in overstimulated agony, pussy flexing around that stiff intrusion so hard it makes you feel faint. Dizzy. You felt like you were going to pass out, and you scrabble at the ground for something to hold on to. You were sure your body couldn’t take much more of this brutal pace but he showed no signs of slowing down anytime soon. 
“Please —!” 
“I told you, didn’t I?” Tighnari hisses against your skin, shuddering against your back. “I’m not going to let you up until - ngh! Until you’ve been properly bred! I’m sorry but I - I promised!” 
Bleating like a wounded animal, you futilely try to angle away from him — just for a moment's reprieve, even a short one — but he just follows you, pressing himself flush to your shuddering frame. The added weight of him settling on top of you like that is too much for your shaking arms and you collapse into the grass, moaning raggedly when he simply follows you down. 
His hands move to squeeze around your rib cage, making your already labored breath hitch, but he just drags his palms down to take hold of your hips again. Rather forcefully, he pulls you back against him until you were balanced on your knees, the upper half of your body stretched out along the ground. You choke on a flustered sound when you feel your tits drag across the dirt, swaying heavily in this position, but that hardly seemed to be the most pressing matter at the moment. 
Somehow Tighnari manages to piston into you even faster like this and each plunging thrust of his hips seems to steal the air from your lungs. The deafeningly loud sound of your sticky cunt sucking him in deep, readily welcoming him and trying to pull him in even deeper, rushes in to join the sharp slap of his pelvis meeting your ass. Your body responds eagerly though, even at the cost of your own dignity, and your eyes start to roll back when you feel a second orgasm fast approaching, much sooner than you could have ever anticipated. 
This was insane. No one single cock should have been perfectly tailor made to slot inside your body like a missing puzzle piece and yet, that’s exactly how it felt. The shape of him was contoured just right to hit every pleasure inducing bump and ridge along the way, the length perfect to stroke you right where you needed it most. Even the stiffness of his cock was exactly what your pulsing guts craved, unrelenting and hard but still pliant enough to adjust to your internal pressure. It was like … 
It was like you really had been made for this. 
That chilling thought is what sends you over the edge, and you shriek so wildly through the convulsions he has to slip his arm forward and cover your mouth. Squealing behind his palm, you jerk and ride out the waves of mind numbing pleasure, jerking uncontrollably on his cock, but even then he doesn’t relent for even a second. He’s got you so thoroughly pinned under the driving weight of his pelvis that you’re forced to keep your back arched even through your shuddering climax, and the sloppy wet sounds of penetration only seem to grow even louder. You felt like you were dripping all over yourself and leaving damp little patches in the dirt under your spread legs, and a hot jab of embarrassment spears through you at the thought. 
No one had ever made you feel like this before, so overwhelmed and helpless to do anything but shake and drool obscene amounts of slick out of your cunt. It was quite easily the hottest experience of your life. 
You’re so aroused, so very turned on by the total domination of your body that even your mind starts to slip, and by the time his breathing becomes sharply uneven you don’t even have the wherewithal to beg him to pull out. You just lay there, spread out underneath him, eyes rolling in doped out bliss while you heatedly groan behind his hand, and convulse on his stuttering cock. He was close and that was obvious even when you were lolling in and out of full consciousness from getting fucked within an inch of your life, but you still lift a shuddering hand to weakly grasp at his arm where it’s lock around your front. Something told you you’d want to hold on for this. 
“Oh! M’gonna’ cum! I’m cumming, sweetheart, I’m cumming! Are you ready? Ready for me to fill you up?” He wheezes against the side of your head, entire body juddering with the intensity of his impending release as much as the exertion. “I’m going to breed you, I’m — ahhn — I’m breeding you, sweetheart, I’m cumming!” 
Whining low in your throat, aching and sore, and well past the point of overstimulation, you writhe under him and instinctively tip your pelvis up to better accept his seed. He doesn’t miss it and a full bodied tremor overtakes him, making him shake so hard it’s a struggle to keep pounding into you. But he manages, somehow, his hips snapping at an uneven, frantic pace now until finally — finally, Tighnari lets out a deep, half strangled groan that rises in pitch, becoming gaspy and needy at the tail end as his cock jumps and sputters inside you. 
You’re distinctly aware of the moment his semen hits your clenching guts in a hot, stifling pulse and your mouth drops open but nothing comes out. Spurt after heavy spurt, it just keeps coming to settle deep within you until it feels like you’re drowning in it. The sensation alone is almost enough to send you quaking right over the edge into another orgasm, the weakly contracting muscles in your cunt locked up in dizzying tension, but you manage to stave it off as your head starts to clear. Barely, though. Just barely. 
Even in this fucked out state you still realized that the very last thing you needed was for another orgasm to pull his load even further into your body and run the risk of encouraging fertilization. There was still a chance you could reverse this, if you made it back to Gandharva Ville in time … 
Pulled from your muddled, hazy thoughts, you let out a quiet whimper when he slowly eases back and slips out with an embarrassingly loud wet pop. The motion seems to pull with it a quickly cooling dribble of cum that oozes down your cunt, running over sticky creases and folds. You shudder at the sensation even as you gingerly push up to your elbows and glance down at yourself only for your eyes to nearly pop right out of your skull when you see how much semen is actually coming out of you. It hadn’t felt like that much to your abused innards but the proof of it is right in front of you. It’s a thick, creamy thread that stretches from your cunt, dangling tauntingly between your legs, rather than the clear little droplet you'd expected, and you feel immediate panic rise in your chest. 
That couldn’t be right … if he’d ejaculated that much then  — how much was actually inside of you? 
You just couldn’t wrap your head around it. 
Shifting on his knees behind you and evidently oblivious to the internal crises you were currently facing, Tighnari reaches down and catches that sticky thread on his gloved finger so he can push it back inside you. Grimacing at the sight as much as the sensation, you screw your eyes shut and try counting to ten. This was fine. As long as you made it back before fertilization took place, you could still take a contraceptive herb. Maybe two, just to be sure. 
But, to your surprise, when you move to get up, still trembling and panting, he just grabs ahold of your hips to halt you in place and you prickle defensively. Twisting around to look back at him, you choke on whatever you’d wanted to say when you realize how he’s looking at you. Still hungry, still hazy. Oh, this was most assuredly not good. 
“Tighnari - -“
“Not yet.” He murmurs, dragging you closer to press his pelvis flush against yours, and you practically jump out of your skin when you realize his cock is already half hard, quickly filling out again. You stammer in protest, heart thudding a frightened little pitter patter against your chest, but he just leans across your back to put his face close to yours, focus attentively locked on your expression. “We need to make sure it took, sweetheart. I promised to breed you, didn’t I?” 
Ignoring your soft whimpers, he closes the distance and seals his mouth over yours, kissing you so slowly it makes your head spin. You couldn’t believe he still had the stamina or the desire to keep going after that … but more than anything you couldn’t believe yourself. 
Cunt eagerly throbbing in response, you rear back on him with a low, stilted moan, even when every fiber of your being was screaming at you to run. It was like you were intoxicated. Drunk on all the pheromones he was putting out and consumed with a need so great even your higher functioning mind couldn’t fight it. 
And so distantly you almost don’t even notice it, the bite on your neck pulses.
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