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Inspired by the moment in ACOSF when it’s mentioned Cassian likes physical contact. A fic where reader and cassian are besties and hanging all touchy, maybe reader is braiding his hair and the mating bond snaps.
Kindly requested to be tagged if written/published.
𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞
pairing; cassian x fem!reader
warnings; porn with plot, basically just smut tbh but smut with FEELS (the best kind), p in v, oral (f!receiving), cassian is a sexy bitch
word count; 2.4k
a/n; dooo we want a p2 (and to find out what reader has planned...) i'm planning one in my head so if you guys are interested please let me know! @bxm-1012 enjoy!
Cassian shows love through touch- whether that be an affectionate squeeze, a kiss on the forehead or a playful shove; it's how he expresses love for the people around him.
You often take the brunt of this, being his best friend. You walk the streets of Velaris arm in arm, squeeze into one armchair that really isn't built to hold even Cassian alone, but somehow manages to fit the both of you, fall asleep on top of each other in a heap of skewed limbs after hours of partying and drinking and dancing at Rita's. You fit together like two pieces of a puzzle.
You're really not sure how you didn't see it earlier.
You're lounging in the aforementioned armchair when the bond snaps. Your legs are thrown over the arm and Cassian is settled in the centre, head to your chest as you scratch and tug at his shoulder-length hair, pulling it up into a braid. He tilts his head up, grinning at you through the dark lashes framing his eyes, and the whole world shifts on its axis.
Something stirs to life inside of you, a warmth blooming and spreading and seeping into your every pore; you can feel the way you're tethered to him, the gravitational pull between you.
You go stock still and your lips part in a silent gasp. Cassian's grin grows tenfold.
"You knew?"
"I suspected," he murmurs. He twists his body to face you. "I hoped."
"Oh," you breathe. You can't help it when your hand comes up to trace his cheekbones, the tip of your thumb skimming the bridge of his nose. His eyes fall closed and the bastard tugs on the bond so hard it emits a squeal from you, and you're pressing a palm to the centre of your chest to soothe the entirely unfamiliar feeling.
His mouth opens to break the silence but you're already moving, careening into his chest and burrowing yourself in tight. Your body sags with pure, uninhibited relief.
"You feel the same, then?" he teases.
Your eyes are glassy when you peel your face far enough to meet his stare.
"I always thought I'd have to make peace with it when you found your mate. I'd have to settle for loving you from a distance and that would be enough. As long as you're happy, I'm happy." He softens at the admission- your voice rasping and raw as you lay your feelings bare for him- hooking an arm beneath your own to drag you up his chest until you're nose to nose. "But I guess I can be selfish now, and keep you to myself," you whisper.
"Mm," he purrs, and the sound turns your core molten. "I like the sound of that."
He doesn't waste any more time before his mouth is on yours, lips slanting hungrily over your own; you part your lips in submission, granting him access to lick into your mouth, his tongue tangling with your own. He rises to tower over you until you're flattened against the curve of the chair, and plants his hands either side of your head to cage you in. His wings flare where they'd been previously tucked against his back. Your body goes involuntarily soft and pliable, heat prickling under your skin at his every touch. Instinct takes over- it's as if it's muscle memory. Giving yourself to him is as easy as breathing.
Your head swims at the feel of his body under your roaming hands, his scent that seems to shift from affection to something deeply primal and dominating. You urge him closer with a whine and a pathetic tug at his t-shirt. How has this man reduced you to a mess with no more than a kiss?
"Cass-" you gasp when his head turns and his mouth latches onto the sensitive spot beneath your ear; teeth sink into flesh and you have to bite your lip to conceal a wanton moan. "We-we should go somewhere... more private."
"Oh, don't stop on our account," comes Rhysand's amused drawl through the closed door. "We're vacating the premises as we speak."
A growl rips through Cassian and searing, unyielding need barrels to your core and pools there; it takes every ounce of willpower to not rut your hips against him and demand his clothes off that very instant.
"Sorry!" you squeak; as quickly as the word leaves your mouth, Cassian's smothering it with another eager kiss. You lose any semblance of control you were clinging to, a moan dragging its way from your chest and into his waiting mouth. A string of saliva stretches and bows between you when he lifts his head to look at your face.
"My mate," he purrs. "My beautiful mate."
Your eyes cloud when you gaze at him through half-lids, reaching down to grab the thick length of him and squeeze. His hips grind into your palm, something deep and almost terrifying loosing from the depths of his chest. It only serves to make your cunt drool.
"Wicked thing," he gasps. "Spiteful female."
You grin, wide and unabashed, before your hands grapple for purchase to tear at his clothes until his toned abdomen is revealed to you; you want to lick every inch of him.
"Desperate little creature, aren’t you?" he teases.
"Shut up!"
His eyes roll when you at last wrench his pants and underwear down his thick thighs, freeing his cock, hard and weeping and begging for your touch.
"Who’s desperate now?" Your brow quirks.
He echoes your sentiments, cadence deep and gravelly with lust. "Shut up."
Your snarking comments seem to loosen the tether he’s kept on his desire to hold you down and have his way with you, and you gasp when thick, calloused fingers curl their way around your windpipe; his fingertips are bruising against your jaw, tipping your head back to bare your soft throat for him. You go boneless in his grasp, eager to take whatever he gives you at whatever pace.
"So you do know how to behave," he muses, free hand coming between your bodies to paw at your clothes until they come away in ribbons, torn from your form and leaving you bare before him.
The first inch of him inside of you is a delicious stretch; your cunt parts and flares to make room for him. He pauses, and when he finds nothing but pure, unadulterated lust in your blown out pupils, he gives you the rest.
Slowly, agonisingly, he drags it out; moaning praises fill your ears as he grants you inch after inch of him until he's seated firmly to the hilt. His fingers are bound to leave bruises where they're curled around your waist.
You whine, fingernails digging cruelly into his sides. He’s so deep you’re sure you can feel him in your throat.
"Cassian."
"Fuck, sweet girl," he hisses. "Usually I’d take my time with you, work you up first until you’re crying. But I need you right now."
The breath is punched from your lungs as he sets a punishing pace; your spine curves and moulds to the arm of the chair when Cassian’s hands venture lower to cup the swells of your breasts. You feel his cock kick up inside of you when he catches sight of your pert nipples, hardening into buds at the exposure of the cool air and the feel of his hands brushing the sensitive beads.
"I’ll get my mouth on you later, baby."
You’d melt at the words if you weren’t already reduced to nothing more than mush from his dick alone. The thick girth of him splits you wide, nestling deep against spots you have yet to discover, pushing you further towards a precipice you’re almost terrified of— you’ve never experienced pleasure like this, to this degree. The insurmountable, unfathomable pressure builds until you’re coming with a scream, your body trembling around his own, cunt clamping down around him to suck him in further.
"There’s my girl," he coos, slowing inside of you to brush away the hair sticking to your slick face. "You’re perfect.”
You whine and cant your hips downward to rock yourself onto his cock, and the bellow that rips through him would have you flushing white-hot under any other circumstances; you’re too far gone to care, a shaking hand splaying against the ridges of his wing until he shudders under your touch. You moan at the sight.
"Now that’s just mean, baby."
You suck your bottom lip into your mouth, gaze flitting up to meet his own with a coy smile. He brushes a slow line with his knuckles against your cheekbone— a loving gesture that has your heart clenching as well as your pussy.
"I love you," he says. "I love you so much."
"I love you," you repeat his words as he smears a kiss between your pinched brows. His forehead presses to yours as his hips rut up into your own. Dewiness clings to every inch of your skin and your knuckles bleed of colour where you cling to Cassian.
He brings you to completion four more times before he reaches his own peak, and only when you're reduced to tears beneath him does he crawl the length of your body, lips grazing over the slick skin beneath him until he reaches your cunt once more.
"Cass-" you gasp; your voice comes out a broken, strangled jumble of noise and he grins wolfishly up at you before licking a broad, long stripe from your spasming hole to your clit. Your back arches and you're not sure whether it's towards or away from his touch, but he stops you short when his fingers curl around your ribcage to press you to the plush fabric of the armchair.
"Told you I'd get my mouth on you, didn't I?"
Everything is simultaneously too much and not enough, and you're torn between grinding down into his mouth and shying away. Pleasure licks white-hot up your spine and you writhe against his bruising hold on your hips when the stubble on his chin scratches against your sensitive bundle of nerves. It's red and angry, swollen from Cassian's undivided attention, and it has tears gathering at your waterline once more. Your eyes are glassy and half lidded and he reaches up to brush the tip of his thumb against your cheek, his head never coming up from between your thighs.
Your skin sheens under the soft lights of the living room, sweat beading across the crown of your skull and your temples; you whine and thrash beneath him until your muscles seize and go taut like a bowstring, and pleasure drags you under once again. You're screaming - comes the dazed realisation - and your chest heaves as Cassian works you through it, offering up sweet praises for your orgasm. He smiles as if he hasn't just given you the best sex of your life.
You're utterly limp, boneless in his firm hold when he lifts your body to cradle you to his naked chest. The bridge of his nose presses into the softness of your cheek, skin rubbing against skin where he nuzzles into you.
"That was fucking amazing," you breathe with a laugh. "We should do that again."
"Mm," he hums. "Don't tempt me."
You giggle, pressing your face closer to his; everything about him intoxicates you: his smell, the feel of him under your hands, the dominating rasp of his cadence.
"We have something else to do first."
"What?" he asks, visibly deflating when you push yourself up on wobbling legs; your knees almost give out instantly. You can feel his smirk forming, burning into your naked form.
"Don't. Say. Anything," you grit. Your fingers brush the carpet when you bend to grasp a slip of fabric, and you quirk a brow at your sheepish mate. "My clothes, Cass!"
"I'll get you some more. Anything you want," he immediately says, watching you through half-lidded eyes. The love swirling in his irises almost has you staggering.
"While I appreciate that..." You lean down to press your lips against his, only pulling back to rest your brow against his own. "That doesn't solve my problem right now."
He snorts. "I like you naked. Maybe you should never wear clothes again."
"I'm not sure anyone would approve of that but you." Your smile is devilish. "Maybe I could distract a few High Lords at the next meeting..."
His teeth bare, a low warning growl reverberating through your very bones. You laugh, light and airy, and Cassian's sure you're heaven sent even as you send red-hot fury roiling through his veins.
"I'm sorry," you trill. "That was mean." You snag his own t-shirt, still predominantly in one piece, and slip it over your head; it lays against your mid-thighs and the scent of him cloys in your nostrils. "C'mon." You beckon him up with an outstretched hand, wiggling your fingers until he stands and slips his fingers between your own. A smirk pulls at the corners of your mouth. "Um, darling?" A pointed gaze has him grinning in return, clasping his chest in faux disappointment.
"I thought you liked me naked!"
"Oh, I do," you muse. "I'd just like to not scar everybody else in this house for life."
"It'd hardly be an unpleasant sight-"
"Yes, but I'm sure everyone would prefer it if I didn't try to kill them for looking." Your smile oozes saccharine, and then you're nudging him towards where his underwear lays discarded on the carpet. He pulls the material up and over his thick thighs and then he's back by your side in an instant; you preen under his adoring touch, pushing into the hands that slip underneath your shirt to grope at your bare skin.
"C'mon," you repeat, begrudgingly denying yourself the pleasure of sinking into his arms for another round of slow sex. "We need to do this first." You press your lips to the corner of his mouth. "Mate."
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— wanted desires ; neteyam sully
pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!pregnant reader
synopsis ; too worried about being rough on you, neteyam won’t allow himself to give into his desires, despite you having never looked more ravishing. but, it’s simply been too long for you, and you can hold yourself back no longer.
word count ; 4.4k
themes ; smut, fluff, established relationship (mates)
warnings ; explicit content: pregnant sex, p in v sex, breast play, nipple play, ear kissing, but all kinda sensual??
author’s note ; (in this, ive kinda just assumed that na’vi sleep naked) so this has slightly less dad!neteyam in it & more horny neteyam which im sorry about. i really can’t decide if im happy with it but i want to go along with the plans i have for this series & this was a chapter i’d planned a while back. i had originally planned this to be more smutty but as i started writing this i just couldn't bc even tho it's dad!neteyam who’s just 🥵 he'd be too scared to hurt you, so, we've ended up with this?? i PROMISE the next one is absolutely fucking adorable & will have everything people want when it comes to dad!neteyam!! this is part of my dad!neteyam series, which you can find in my masterlist below!
previous part ; next part
dad!neteyam series masterlist main masterlist request a fic!
Neteyam was everything you could've asked for... and more.
As you slowly but surely started to reach the end of your pregnancy, the last stages just looming over your shoulders, he was always there for you. You were becoming more irrational, and there was no doubt in your mind that you were annoying everyone you came into contact with. But, each and every one of them seemed to understand, and none better than Neteyam.
Your mate was constantly by your side - physically or mentally - tending to your every need and abiding by your every request. Hormones getting the better of you, you also started to take your problems and own annoyances out on him. It was completely unfair and it always made you feel incredibly guilty and horrible in the end, crying your eyes out in your mate's arms as all you could do was apologise profusely.
But, not once did he hold it against you. No - instead of taking every harsh word you uttered to him to heart, instead of truly believing that you meant them, he allowed the blows and the insults to be thrown his way, soaking them in until your temper died down and there was nothing but an exhausted, drained and broken girl in front of him. After that, he'd soothe your apologies, caging you in his arms protectively, stroking both the top of your head and your expanding stomach whilst he assured you he understood that you hadn't meant all those words, that it was okay.
He'd insist that he didn't mind taking such aggravation, not when you were doing all the hard work... not when you were carrying his entire world on your shoulders.
To no surprise of anyone, his family were as perfect as they could be, too, always either giving you a helping hand, or steering clear less they want to say the wrong thing. It was obvious from the very start of the stark differences between the two sides of Neteyam's - and, you guess, your own - family.
When it came to those that were always supportive and understanding, it was always the girls. Neytiri would constantly make sure that you were the most comfortable in any situation you found yourself in, wanting to ensure that the mother was safe and healthy before anything else; Kiri was, without fail, bringing you different concotions made by both herself and Mo'at that helped ease your pain and soothe your anxieties; and Tuk, consistently babbling about how excited she is to finally meet her niece or nephew, planning out how all she's going to do when they arrive is dote on them. Each of them had created their own roles to play in your pregnancy, and each one comfortably took your mind off the worries that were swirling around, believing that simply nothing could go wrong when you had such beautiful people around you all the time.
On the complete other side, there were the boys. Both Jake and Lo'ak were different stories compared to the rest of their families - whilst the two of them were as excited and eager to meet your baby, too, neither one of them wanted to really get too involved, something that didn't exactly bother you, rather just making you giggle at their reactions. They gave you as much space as possible, too scared to get too close in case they either annoyed you or did something wrong. Whilst Jake had done this many times before, gone through several of these similar experiences with his own mate, he didn't want to overstep any boundaries between yourself and his eldest son, considering he had no idea what it was like carrying a baby for so long. And, Lo'ak... Lo'ak was just scared of his older brother.
After all, you were now considered delicate, and they knew if something happened to you, they'd be on the feral side of Neteyam... something neither of them particularly wanted to experience any time soon.
But, there was one thing that you couldn't stand during all of this, and, surprisingly, it wasn't anyone else trying to help.
It was Neteyam, and the fact that he wouldn't touch you.
Way more often than you were used to, you found yourself feeling sexually frustrated, the only thing you needed being for yourself and Neteyam to be intimate in the same way that got you in this situation in the first place. You narrowed your sudden feelings down to the fact that it had been so long - whilst the two of you never really had sex all the time before becoming pregnant, after being denied of your wants for an excruciatingly long period of time now, you were slowly teetering over the edge.
And, it wasn't as though you weren't trying, either. Your attempts of kissing him sensually, gaining beautiful-sounding moans out of him before he forced himself away from you; touching him explicitly, feeling him shudder under your grasp, before he moved himself impossibly further away from you, eyes scrunched tight as he held himself back; laying yourself bare for him when he go home, before he sighed dejectedly and shook his head, doing his damn best to ignore you... all to waste.
Neteyam just couldn't stand the idea of hurting you or the baby.
Sure, you guess you could understand where he was coming from, too, considering neither of you had been in this situation before, having no idea if having sex could harm either one of you, and the both of you were too prideful to ask someone else about it. So, you were stuck in what felt like a never-ending loop, enjoying itself as it tortured you blissfully.
But, you had never been so frustrated in your entire life.
The day had, once again, been a long and tiring one for the two of you, trying to let sleep overtake your entire senses and succumb to the world beyond. You were lay down upon your mat, the two of you on your sides - something that always felt more comfortable against the pains in your stomach, so Neteyam was happy to oblige - as your mate's front curls into your figure, his tail automatically wrapping itself around your bump protectively, like it always did, like a ritual.
That's when you started to feel it.
Your mind was beginning to deny you of any sleep anyway, your arousal once again getting the better of you as it painted your wanted desires within the forefront of you mind's eye until there was nothing else you could think of. But, it seemed as though Neteyam was feeling something, too - a bulge poking against your lower back, throbbing gently every now and again like it was demanding your attention, like it was excited.
For a moment, you wondered if Neteyam had even noticed his own predicament, considering he was the one so desperate to not engage in this way, and now he's aching. It's ironic that the roles have suddenly reversed, and you wonder how next to play this out.
Taking in a shuddering breath when you feel his tail subconsciously stroke against your skin, you weigh up your options - you could either ignore it completely, knowing it'll be a fight to get him to give into you, allowing the sultry thoughts within your mind to be the only release you'd get... or, you could take control for yourself.
In no time at all, you decide upon the latter. It wasn't much of a decision to make, either, too wrapped up in the sensations you knew only he could give you, wanting nothing but him all over you.
You start of with the barest of movements, not wanting to completely pounce on him in surprise, knowing that if you did, he'd get angry. The best way to get him to give in was always going to be to get him weak. Fidgeting about in place, barely moving, you pretend as though you're subconsciously trying to get comfortable - after all, who was he to say that you weren't when carrying a Na'vi around constantly?
A small moan sounds behind you, under his breath like he hadn't meant for it to spill from his lips, but it already has you smirking slightly. Instantly, you know he wants this just as much as you do, and if your plan works how you intend it to, you'll both be falling asleep blissful and satisfied after too long of denying yourselves.
Your next step is start rubbing your ass against his bulge, but ensuring your movements stay slow, so as not to arouse him so suddenly. At the feel of him against you in such a sensual way, a breathy sigh leaves your lips, eyes fluttering closed as you forget how much you truly enjoyed the feel of his cock anywhere on you.
Just as you’re enjoying yourself, your ass continuing to rub painfully slow against his excitement, there's a rough hand placed firmly along the side of your hip. It's not too tight a grip, not wanting to hurt you or possibly bruise you, but it's enough to hold you down in place and stop your movements from carrying on any further. "Stop," Neteyam almost demands, voice gruff as though he's just woken up, which means he'd been dreaming about taking you like he always loved to.
His one word command does practically the complete opposite of its original purpose, however - instead of listening and giving into him, it only seems to fuel your fire, adding on to your already painful arousal. The way he said the word, sounding so authoritative and annoyed and just sexy has you wanting more, more, more. It definitely wasn't in his plans to have you reacting such a way, but you couldn't help yourself anymore, too far gone. This was the closest you'd been to one another in this way for too long.
Your response to him is a whimper, pathetic and pleading, as you force your hips to move once more despite him hand still placed firmly on you. When your ass brushes against his cock again, he hisses, the sensation no doubt sending him into overdrive, whilst his fingers hold a tighter grip, automatically indenting themselves into your skin.
"Please," you whine, breaths uneven and you were barely even touching each other. "Neteyam, please."
There's a brief moment of silence that lingers between the two of you as your words evaporate into the surrounding air, yourself guessing that it's now Neteyam's turn to weigh up the options set out before him. Unfortunately, he knows you like he knows the back of his own hand, meaning it's obvious straight away that you wont give in now that you're this close to getting what you want. Besides, despite having seen you plead for him to just touch you before you fell pregnant in a way that had him excited, he's never heard you like this - desperate, anguished, and downright aching.
It makes him feel more thrilled than he'd like to admit - especially to you, right in this moment.
With a sigh of defeat, Neteyam knows there's not much else he can do other than give you what you want - although, he could change how he does it. He removes his hand from your waist, tail staying still in its place like always, fidgeting about. You're unsure as to what exactly he's doing, not words or explanations exchanged, rather just letting him do what he wants. For a second, you wonder if your plan had backfired, and he was moving further away from you, or possibly even leaving. The thought has your heart aching in displeasure.
But, then all thoughts are wiped from your mind when you begin to feel a gentle prod against your soaked entrance, subconsciously lifting one of your legs slightly higher in the air at the sensation, before Neteyam is sheathing himself fully inside you. His hand closest to you wraps around your elevated leg to relieve you of the annoyance of lifting it up yourself. When all you can really feel is Neteyam, no longer empty but warm and full, a guttural moan escapes your lips before you can trap it, your hand coming up to slap over your mouth, eyes closed tightly as you take him whole.
You hadn't truly realised how long it had been since you last felt him this way until now. Curse him and his damn protective instincts.
In just seconds, you want nothing more than to chase more of that feeling, more of that euphoric sensation, rubbing yourself impossibly closer to him as the tip of his cock hits such a sweet spot, you're sure you're with the Great Mother in some type of beautiful heaven right now.
Before you can go any further, though, Neteyam's palm finds your hip again, stopping you in place and this time, you don't bother trying to hold yourself back. The whimpers and whines that leave your throat at such a denial are mewling and pitiful, writhing about to relieve yourself of his hold, but he's relentless. Somehow, his entire body is closer to you than it was last time, faces inches away from one another as he brings his lips to your ear. At first, all you can decipher are breathless pants as his chest heaves up and down from trying to hold himself back. "No," he grunts, puffing as he attempts to gain control once more, "we're not doing that. We're going to stay like this - that's the best I'll give you."
This time, it's a groan that falls from your lips, one that sounds almost painful but you're too annoyed to care, cursing out everything for Neteyam being such a gentleman. All you want is for him to fuck you - was that so much to ask? You're not even sure if the situation you've put yourselves in is any better than having nothing, either, because now you can feel all of him entirely, can feel how excited he is to finally be inside you as his cock throbs in pleasure at being snuggled between your walls. Now, it just feels like a taunt of what you could have.
He chuckles softly against your ear at your reaction, still having not moved - and he probably wouldn't now, not unless he wanted to really feel you. The teasing smile is wiped off his features after a second, however, and replaced by one of sympathy, words becoming softer than they were before. "I'm sorry, muntxate (wife), I really don't want to hurt you or our 'evenge (girl)."
There's just a brief split second where his loving words filter through you and knock your senses apart - of course, he wouldn't want to hurt his girls, he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he ever did. The idea of anyone harming either of you drove him insane, let alone the cause of your pain being him. But, your fleeting emotions cascade into ones of just pure desire, filtering in one ear and out the other until your mind is nothing but a hazy cloud, panting desperately for more.
You give yourself a moment to just breathe, to not hyperventilate at the exultant feeling of him fully inside you. Neteyam assures that his grip stays firm against your hip, not wishing to relent against his own commands so easily, but he does rub his thumb in a soothing circle, painting your skin with a reminder of how much he loves both you and your child.
You're quick to move your hips again, eyes staying closed as you imagine everything he could be doing to you right now, rubbing yourself against him entirely. Immediately, your mate tightens his fingers in his grasp, a clear warning sign for you to stop in your teasing, to just bask in the embrace of one another and say that's enough.
Yet, it isn't enough. It's nowhere near being enough for you. There's a feeling of being slightly impressed at the restraint he's showing to you, and irritated all the same, until another idea comes to your mind.
Smiling a little smugly to yourself, already knowing what you're about to do next is something he definitely cannot resist based on the previous times you've done it, you clench your fluttering walls around his length, taking him whole and tightly. Your own actions cause a breath of blissful relief to pass through your slightly parted lips, loving the way you can feel his cock throb even more.
Another hiss sounds against your ear, his grip tightening, but this time, so does his tail as it continues to stay wrapped firmly around your bulging figure, the end vibrating in a fever of both agitation and anticipation. Even his body desires it, but he wont allow his mind to. He's starting to pant a little more frequently, too, now, like he's weakening at the seams, and that's when you know you have him exactly where you want him.
You continue to clench around him, bringing your hips up and down his length at a tantalisingly slow pace to ensure he feels every inch of you, hitting every spot of your walls. There's a feeling of triumph coursing through you when he no longer attempts to stop you in your teasing movements, knowing he's finally allowed himself to give into you entirely. Instead, the hand that was once gripping your hip snakes its way around your front, fondling against your breasts as he squeezes them sensually. When he moves to the other one, wanting to give it the same attention, he pinches your nipple, loving how sensitive they are due to your pregnant state, eliciting a deep moan from the back of your throat, no longer caring if anyone else can hear you.
"You're a little minx, you know that?" he taunts, words a harsh whisper against your ear but you don't care - not when the once slow movements between the two of you suddenly increase in their pace as Neteyam takes over. The alternating grip, too, against your breasts tightens, constantly squeezing them as he soaks in how swollen they feel. "Always getting what you want."
The tip of his cock repeatedly probes against that sweet, spongy part within you so beautifully as his thrusts continue to increase in their speed. Your mate almost feels feral with his actions, perhaps finally realising that he shouldn't have denied the two of you the pleasure of one another, not when you were so needy. Not wanting to stop clenching around him as he moves in and out of you in a relentless pace, you can feel your release quickly approaching already, no doubt having felt forsaken for so long - you're sensitive enough as it is being pregnant.
"Neteyam-" you moan beautifully, breathily, like a songcord to your mate's ears, sure he's never head you sound so ethereal before. You have to cut yourself off as you moan in pleasure when you start to feel his balls slapping sensually against your skin, the warm sensation within wrapping around you like a blanket, one you never want to get rid of.
He brings his head closer than it already was, burying his face within the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. Sometimes he wishes he could drown in your scent, more so than ever now that you're pregnant - somehow, you managed to emit an even more delicious scent than before. Sucking against your particular sweet spot he knows you adore having his attention on, he ensures to leave behind at least a small mark, wishing for the entire clan to know that you were his, even though you're carrying his firstborn, wanting to be sure.
Lips moving feverishly against your warm skin as he continues to fuck you at a pace that was relentless, your pleasing moans scratching against the back of your throat, he eventually finds himself at your ears, placing soft kisses against them. The sensation has them fluttering in satisfaction, but then he trails down to suck harshly against your jaw, and your breath stutters, whining. "Mmm," he hums against your skin, now resorting to placing gentle kisses when he was once rough. "What is it, sevin (pretty)?"
In all this time, whilst his mouth was focused elsewhere, not once had his thrusts faltered, loving the way you’re so drunk on him entirely.
"I'm - I'm so close, 'teyam," you mewl, eyes slightly rolling to back of your head as he grunts at yet another clench from you around his cock, before you close them shut when they start to tear up.
"I know," he agrees, words just a breathy whisper, already being able to understand how close you truly are from the way you feel around him. It feels like his mind is on fire as your walls flutter from being so close to release, clenching and unclenching around him, having lost its rhythm. His pants are becoming more erratic now, bearing down upon you, but it makes you feel alive. "I'm close, too."
Quickly, knowing that the two of you wont be able to last much longer, he brings his queue forward, the tendrils reaching out as he then connects it with your own awaiting one. Movements now becoming sloppy and uncoordinated, but continuing to hit right at your cervix, your eyes widen as you start to feel everything he currently is - all the love, the desire, the frustration - bathing in one another like two pieces of a puzzle only made for you two.
Burying his head back in the crook of your neck, hand moving down to caress your swollen baby bump - one that's just moons away from its expected day - he whispers sweet nothings against your skin, wanting to tattoo them into you so you'll never forget them. Words like I love you, you're so beautiful, I can't wait to make more, having you crooning somehow more than ever, feeling him peppering kisses to you now.
It's not long after that when the two of you are finally releasing together, explicit moans and grunts escaping your lips as your arousal's become spent. "Neteyam, Neteyam, Neteyam-" you repeat his name like a prayer, having never sounded more amazing to your mate.
You can feel the mixture of your cum with his against Neteyam's cock, awaiting the feeling of becoming empty and cold when he removes himself from you and lets it trickle between your thighs. But, nothing of the sort happens. Rather, your mate stays put, keeping his cock in your warmth, snug, and therefore, keeping all his cum pushed further in you - something he's always loved to do.
Eyes closed in bliss, mouth parted as you try to catch your breath, Neteyam gives your stomach a few tender taps, garnering your attention. Before you can fully move your head on your own, Neteyam's hand moves to cup the side of your face, bringing your noses together as you breathe one another in. He presses a forgiving kiss against your lips, letting them linger against one another, not wanting to pull away. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asks, the worry and concern evident in both his tone, but also the way you notice his ears droop and eyes glaze over just at the thought.
Looking up at him, you give him the most loving smile you could muster, shaking your head adamantly. "No, ma'teyam," your words are gentle, soothing, "we're both okay, I promise." You make sure to kiss him again with the same softness he gave you, wanting to ensure he completely understood that you meant every word, that you were okay.
This time, when you pull away, he nuzzles your noses together in a domestic way he's started to do since a few moons ago - the same way he likes to do it with your stomach, like he's doing it with your daughter. Pressing his forehead against your own, his eyes never once leave yours, full of adoration and devotion. "I'm sorry I was neglecting you..."
Instantly, your heart sinks at his words, your hand moving up to caress his cheek soothingly like he does yours. You can hear the despair and brokenness behind his voice, and it only pains you further - Neteyam couldn't have been a better mate throughout this entire journey together, but he didn't understand that. He always thought he had to be perfect, that he had to do everything right straight away, but this was a journey you were experiencing for the first time together.
Neteyam couldn't neglect you if he tried. He's too doting, too domesticated, too tender to even think about doing such a thing.
"You do not need to apologise, my muntxatan (husband). I understand why you were worried - but you never neglected me, not once. You were just scared, and so am I..." you pause, your once sympathetic and caring expression turning teasing and menacing, "...but, now that we know that it doesn't do either of us any harm, maybe we could do it more often..."
He chuckles at your words, watching as you bite your lips in mock thought, attempting to hide the sultry smile playing at your lips. It's like your words instantly managed to clear his worry, feeling it dissipate at your loving reassurance, until his eyes were bright and his smile wide, looking down at you like you held the entire universe within you.
In a way, he supposed you did.
"I guess we could..." he relents, his own tone turning into one of teasing, too, smirking as he brings your faces closer into a sensual kiss. This one is all tongues and teeth clashing together, feverish in anticipation to experience more together now that the worries once clouding over the two of you had begun to part.
As his hands roam over your body, from your jaw, to your neck, to your breasts, and finally to your stomach, caressing every inch of your skin like you were a painting, he moves to hover over you, mindful not to put his weight on top of you. A giggle falls from your lips at his sudden change in demeanour, but that's soon swallowed by another deep kiss that has your breath dispersing almost immediately.
It was safe to say, with the amount of times the two of you came together as one just during that particular night, if you weren't pregnant beforehand, you definitely would've been after that.
taglist ;
@monahiiii @bakugouswaif @andraga12 @draiochtwrites @teyums @neteyamslovrr @tinkerbelle05 @netesanrr @lanasblood @camilo-uwu @queen190 @adrianarose7 @ttkttt @ayoungforeveruniverse-blog
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Light Shower (Yuta Okkotsu)
summary: your big brother butts into your sex life, and you both get more than you bargained for.
content: dead dove (do not eat), incest/stepcest (left unclear), big bro!yuta, afab fem!reader (no pronouns but referred to as girl, sister, ect.), inexperienced!reader, oral (m -> f), protected p -> v, squirting, fingering, possessive!yuta, pillow princess!reader, mentions of alcohol but reader is not drunk.
wc: 3.8k
a/n: HEED THE CONTENT WARNINGS !! I HAVE MADE SHIT SO FUCKING CLEAR !!! anyways, i've been working on this fic for months, and i'm so happy it's finally done ! this whole thing is dedicated to @princess-okkotsu for being nasty with me and lovely to me.
You had many reasons for moving in with your older brother for your last year of undergrad. You and Yuta hadn’t lived together since he was 16 and you were 13, separated for reasons you still didn’t understand. The only time he’d visited you and your parents after he moved out had been for your high school graduation. You’d missed him a lot, but you kept in close contact online and over the phone, texting constantly and calling a few times a week with video calls sprinkled in. Despite the physical distance, your brother had become your best friend. When you told him you were planning to attend university in Tokyo, he was elated, talking about how he couldn’t wait to show you around and how excited he was to see you more often. He had kept his word, taking you all around the city during your first few weeks in Tokyo, handing you a key to his apartment, and telling you you were welcome over any time, even if he wasn’t home. He took you out to breakfast every Sunday morning and invited you over to watch movies every Wednesday evening. Your relationship thrived with the new proximity.
Moving in with your brother would allow you to connect as siblings in a way you missed out on growing up. Yuta also lived closer to campus than you did, meaning you wouldn’t have to take the train. You liked your current roommates well enough, but they always had people over when you were studying and rarely cleaned their messes in the kitchen. Yuta was tidy and quiet. And finally, you were broke. Undergrad was expensive, the city was expensive, and grad school wouldn’t be cheap either. Yuta was willing to let you move in rent-free, declining your offer to at least pay utilities.
“I don’t need my baby sister’s money,” he’d said with a smile and finality that shut down any argument you tried to conjure.
You’d accepted the offer and moved in about a month ago. Living with Yuta was as easy as breathing. He was a courteous and generous roommate. He did his share of the chores and often offered to help you with your own. He brought you coffee and snacks while you studied. He carried the bags when the two of you went grocery shopping.
And he was fun. Almost every moment the two of you spent together was full of laughter. You and Yuta cooked dinner together every night you were both home, talking and joking about your days. You weren’t sure what Yuta did for work; he’d always been vague, but you figured it had something to do with the government. But you enjoyed his stories about his coworkers and their antics. And Yuta seemed just as invested in your stories about your friends and daily life. He asked questions and remembered names and offered advice.
The only thing you didn’t feel comfortable talking with your big brother about was your love life. Talking to Yuta about guys just felt like crossing an unspoken line. It’s not like much was going on in that aspect of your life anyway; you were too busy with school to seek out new people. Once in a while, one of your friends would set you up on a date with someone. You didn’t mind their meddling; you knew it came from a good place, and they were good judges of character. However, you had yet to hit it off with any of these match-ups. There just wasn’t that spark. So when your friend told you she’d met someone in her Econ class that would be perfect for you, you were a mix of skeptical and excited. After some persuading, you agreed to go out with Mr. Econ.
Now you stood in the entryway, checking yourself in the mirror a final time and looking through your purse to check that you had everything.
“Oh, are you going somewhere? I thought we were watching a movie tonight?” You turned to see your brother putting dishes in the sink.
“Oh, Yu, I’m so sorry. I totally forgot. I have a date tonight, so–”
“A date?” Yuta turned to face you with a raised brow, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“Yeah, my friend set me up with a guy from her class. We’re going for drinks.”
“You’re meeting a man you’ve never met for drinks? And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“Yuta, please don’t pull the big brother act. I’m an ad–”
“It’s no act. I am your brother. It’s my job to look out for you.”
“My location is on. I’ll text you when I get there and am on my way home. Deal?”
“No.”
“What do you mean no? Yuta, you can’t ju–”
“I require a hug before I let you leave,” he said simply as a boyish grin spread over his lips. You fought your own smile as you walked into his open arms. You sighed as you felt his strong arms squeeze you tight.
“Be safe. Call me if you need me to come get you, yeah?” Yuta whispered in your ear, swaying you a bit as he spoke.
“I will, I promise,” you said as you detangled yourself from his arms. You returned your focus to the mirror, straightening your top before grabbing your keys.
“Wait. Do you need a condom?”
“W-what?”
“A condom. Let me go grab you one–”
“No!”
“What do you mean no? You can’t–”
“No–I mean, I already have some. Yuta, never say that word again,” you said as fire burned in your cheeks and ears.
“Condom.”
“I’m leaving.”
“I love you,” he called when you opened the door.
“Love you too.”
You were back home in a little over an hour. You couldn’t hold back your sigh as you reentered the apartment and removed your shoes. You didn’t hear the TV in the living room; Yuta must’ve forgone watching the movie by himself and went to his room. You felt a pang of guilt at that. You should’ve stayed home and watched a movie with your big brother instead of going out with an idiot business major who just wanted to fuck. You walked over to Yuta’s bedroom door and knocked.
“Yu, just letting you know I’m home,” you called out. You heard shuffling on the other side of the door, opening a few seconds later to reveal your shirtless brother. His brow was furrowed in concern as he looked down at you.
“You said you’d text when you were on your way back. It’s still early. Did something happen?”
“No, he was just an ass. I’m going to go take my make-up off. We can still watch that movie if you want.”
“What’d he do?” Yuta asked with a hardness in his voice that you’d never heard before. You turned to face him and were met with dark blue eyes boiling with fury. You were grateful to know that his rage wasn’t directed at you; the look on his face was bone-chilling.
“Nothing, we just had different definitions of the term ‘date.’”
“What does that mean?”
“He just wanted to fuck. I didn’t, so I left.”
“Oh, thank God. I don’t like the idea of you having sex,” he said with a relieved sigh.
“I’m a fucking adult, Yuta. I can have sex if I want to. Though lucky for you, sex sucks,” you said hotly, turning on your heel to leave. You loved him, but Yuta had a way of getting under your skin. Your retreat was halted by his hand grabbing yours. You turned to face him; a look of confusion splayed across his features again.
“Now, what do you mean by that?”
“Yu, I really don’t want to discuss my sex life with you. I’d actually rather die.”
“Hey, you can’t just drop that tidbit and not elaborate,” he said, maintaining his firm grip on your hand.
“Yuta…”
“I’m not going to judge you. You can tell me about anything, you know that,” Yuta said with soft eyes. He tugged lightly on your hand, guiding you into his room. He gestured for you to sit on the bed while he sat in his desk chair. You sat down, suddenly finding Yuta’s spotless bedroom floor captivating.
“What’s so bad about sex?” he asked gently. You knew that if you looked at him, he’d be making those puppy dog eyes that always had you spilling your guts to him.
“Me. I’m not good at it, so I don’t like it.”
“Not good?”
“I’ve never…y’know.”
“Never what?”
“I’ve never finished, okay?”
“You’ve never cum before?”
“I do when I’m by myself. I just can’t with other people for some reason. I’m fucking broken. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go die in a hole.”
“Do not be embarrassed,” Yuta said firmly as he stood and crossed the room to kneel before you. He took your chin in his hand and guided you to look him in the eye.
“You are not broken. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s not your fault if you’ve only been with partners who don’t know how to satisfy you.”
Something in Yuta’s reassuring tone forced the damn to break. Tears spilled from your eyes as you fought back the lump in your throat. A sob racked your body as Yuta joined you on the bed and wrapped you in his arms before he lifted you into his lap. He rubbed slow circles on your back as you cried and placed a kiss on your hair.
After a few minutes, your tears subsided enough for you to speak.
“I’m sorry, Yuta, this isn’t your problem,”
“Don’t be sorry, sweetie. You’re hurting, and that is my problem.”
“There’s nothing you can do about it, though.”
“Who said that?”
“What?” you asked, raising your head to look at your brother.
“I can help you.”
“How?”
“I can make you cum.” Yuta said with the same smile and finality he had when he convinced you to move in with him.
“No, you can’t. You’re my brother, Yuta.”
“And it’s my job as your brother to take care of you. Let me help you. Let me show you how sex is supposed to be.”
“It’s not right, Yu. We can’t.”
“Just once. No one will know. I want you to know what it’s like to feel good. You deserve to feel good.”
“...Just once?”
“Yeah, only tonight.”
“I trust you, Yuta,” you said, meeting his eyes of your own accord.
Yuta’s kiss was so gentle it almost brought tears back to your eyes. His lips slotted against yours with hesitance, like he expected that at any moment, you would bolt from his lap, out the door, and out of his life forever. But you knew you wouldn’t. You couldn’t deny how handsome your big brother was, how you adored his deep blue eyes and full lips, how enamored you were with his size, his large hands and broad shoulders. You couldn’t deny how much you wanted him right now. You deepened the kiss, grazing your tongue over his lips, coaxing him to let you in. He opened up to you, allowing you to explore his mouth.
Yuta shifted you in his lap so that you were straddling him, large hands gripping your waist. You grinded down on him as you laced your fingers through his dark hair. You pulled gently, eliciting a soft moan from the man below you.
“Fuck, I could kiss you all night, baby. You taste so good. But I gotta make you cum. Wanna taste you somewhere else,” Yuta whispered against your lips. You felt your core pulse at his words.
“Take this pretty dress off for me and lay down,” he ordered after giving your lips a final peck. You did as you were told, slowly unzipping your dress and letting it pool at your feet. You stepped out of the fabric and climbed back onto the bed, resting your head on the pillows.
Yuta joined you on the bed, settling at your feet. He took hold of both of your ankles and gently pulled them apart, spreading your legs. You could see the desire burning in his eyes as they made contact with the crotch of your panties. Your face heated as you imagined the growing wet spot forming there. Before you could close your legs out of embarrassment, Yuta moved forward to brush his fingers over your clothed cunt.
“You’ve been torturing me, baby, parading around in these cute little panties. Been haunting my dreams with them. Gonna let me take ‘em off, let me see your pretty pussy?” He asked, almost begging. You nodded your consent, and Yuta placed a kiss on your covered clit before pulling your damp panties off. He stifled a moan at the sight of strings of slick clinging to the fabric as he delicately removed the garment.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, breath fanning over your now-bared pussy. You watched as he tucked your panties in his pocket, and you felt your face warm even more at his actions. You gasped as you felt Yuta’s warm mouth wrap around your clit. He sucked gently before circling it with his tongue.
“Yuuuutaaaa,” you moaned at the unfamiliar yet extremely pleasant sensation.
“Has anyone ever done this for you before baby?” he asked, voice thick with lust.
“N-no, no one,” you admitted, eager to feel his lips on you again.
“Good. Such a good girl, saving the first taste of this pussy for your big brother. So fucking sweet, baby,” he praised before diving back into your cunt. He lapped at your slit, collecting your slick on his tongue. You whined at the feeling and the lewd sounds his mouth on your pussy produced. His tongue moved back to your clit, swirling around it before latching his lips around it. His fingers found their way to your slit, sliding one inside as he continued to suck your clit. He moaned at the tightness of your heat around his finger. It was hard for him to believe that anyone or anything had breached your walls before this moment based on the vice grip they had around him.
He worked his finger in and out of your heat steadily as he continued to suck and lick at your clit, relishing in the sounds of your moans and whines. After a minute or so, Yuta slipped another finger inside you, smiling against your clit at the mewl you let out at the addition.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby. I’ve gotta prep you for me, okay? Gotta get you ready so you feel good, alright?” He cooed from between your legs. You nodded in understanding, desire pooling at your core. You heard Yuta tsk from his position below you.
“Need you to use your words, pretty girl. You gotta use your voice for me.”
“O-okay. Wanna feel good, please, don’t stop!”
“That’s my girl. I’m gonna give you another finger, m’kay? You’re doing so well, pretty,” Yuta encouraged as he added a third finger, mouth returning to your clit with vigor. He was now determined for you to cum, to show you everything that you’d been missing. Everything he could give you. He fucked his fingers into you at a steady but deliberate pace. His mouth latched onto your clit, suckling firmly, using your moans and whines as a guide to how to pleasure you, how to pull more sounds from you, how to fill your brain with thoughts of him, him, and nothing else.
“Yuta, Yuta! Cumming!” you squealed out, toes curling and back arching off the bed at the sensation of your orgasm beginning to roll over you. Yuta doubled his efforts, rolling his tongue over your clit as his fingers picked up the pace. One deep thrust of his fingers led to you practically screaming as you squirted all over your big brother’s face. Yuta couldn’t help his beaming smile as he removed himself from between your thighs as you finally settled from your high.
“I am so sorry! I-I’ve never done that before. Please don’t be mad!” You begged as you took in his damp lips and chin.
“Mad? Baby, why would I be mad? That was so fucking hot. Wanna make you do it again. Come here, give me a kiss. Want you to taste yourself, yeah?” You obliged, rising from the bed to meet your brother halfway. Your lips slotted against his and you marveled at the taste of yourself. You opened up your mouth for Yuta’s tongue to explore, more of your flavor exploding on your tongue at the intrusion. After a moment of sloppy making out, he finally pulled back to smile at you.
“See how good you taste? Such a perfect girl.”
“Did I do good, Yuu?” you ask almost innocently, and Yuta wonders if you planned this, planned to seduce him tonight, planned you make his darkest, filthiest dreams come true. There was no way you were this perfect, this pure and trusting all for him. But looking in your eyes he could see the sincerity, the self-doubt, the need for approval. It made his already hard cock throb with need.
You let out a yelp as Yuta practically tackled you to the bed, pinning you down with his legs on either side of yours and his arms forming a cage around your head. His face hovered over yours, an indiscernible look of intensity in his eyes.
“You did perfect, sweetheart. Fuck, feel that baby? That’s what you do to me,” he said as his hips bucked against yours, grinding his bulge against your soaked core. You moaned as he continued to hump against you like a teenager, bringing your legs to wrap around his hips in an attempt to bring him closer. After several moments, he pulled away, untangling your legs from around his waist.
“Think you’re ready, sweetheart? Wanna give you my cock, want you to cum on it. Think you can?”
“Wanna try, Yuu, need your cock so bad,” you confessed, longing for the feeling and heat of him against you again. You heard him swear as he reached for the waistband of his sweats, yanking them down with his boxers. He quickly pulled them off, abandoning them on the floor with your dress. You let out a gasp when you finally saw his bare cock. It was the biggest you had ever seen in person, and it was so pretty it made your mouth water.
“A-are you sure it’s gonna fit?” you asked hesitantly.
“We’ll make it, yeah? You’re a big girl, you can take it,” he said reassuringly as he took his cock into his hand, stroking it slowly. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the motion, drool pooling in your mouth at the sight. Yuta approached you again, framing your body with his own.
“Where’s that condom you were talking about?”
“Purse.”
“That’s too far,” he said resolutely, reaching over to his nightstand and opening the drawer. He pulled out a square of gold foil and brought it to his mouth before slamming the drawer closed. You watched as he ripped the packet open with his teeth, catching the rubber in his open palm. He spit the wrapper out, and you watched as it fluttered towards the floor. Yuta rocked back onto his heels, sheathing his cock in the condom before returning to cage your body with his.
“I’m gonna put it in now, okay?” he asked as he lined himself up with your slit.
“Yeah, ‘m ready,” you said, feeling the head of his cock press against your opening.
Slowly, Yuta sank into your heat, moaning at the tightness that enveloped him. You whined along with him, the stretch of him burning beautifully as he filled you. You’d never felt so full, so complete. After what felt like ages, he finally bottomed out inside you.
He remained still, giving you time to adjust to the fullness, but you soon grew impatient, rocking your hips down.
“You can move Yuu, want you to.”
That was all the encouragement he needed to begin thrusting into you. Shallow at first, before pulling further out only to fuck into you even deeper. Yuta was perfect, fucking you deep and steady, using his free hand to toy with the nipple that wasn’t in his mouth. You were quickly overstimulated by the feeling of his mouth, cock, and fingers. All you could do was whine combinations of your brother’s name and curses as he fucked you into the mattress.
“You take my cock so fucking well, baby. I was born for you, this dick was made just for you,” he growled against your chest, punctuating his point with a especially deep thrust.
“Love your cock, Yuta! Feels so good!”
“Fuck yeah baby, ready to cum f’me?”
“Yes, yes, wanna cum!” you proclaimed as you felt his hand move from your nipple to your clit. He began rubbing tight circles around the bud as his hips moved relentlessly against yours. He pulled his lips off your nipple with a pop, moving up to kiss your hungry lips.
“Such a good girl for me, such a perfect little sister, letting your big brother fuck your tight little pussy. Gonna let me do it again yeah? Not gonna be satisfied after one time, are you?” He whispered against your lips.
“No, want this all the time, feels so good Yuta! Never stop, ‘m so close, so close!”
“Come on, you can do it. Squirt all over your big brother’s cock baby! Make a mess, make a fucking mess all over me!” he urged, rubbing your clit faster as his thrusts gained speed. His dirty mouth sent you over the edge, the tight band of pleasure in the pit of your tummy snapping. You gushed on Yuta’s cock with a shriek, eyes seeing white as you came. You could barely hear his chants of “Good girl!” as he chased his own high. His hips stuttered and jerked as you milked him, finally stilling as he released his load into the piece of latex that separated you two.
He lowered his damp forehead to rest against yours and the two of you caught your breath. After a few minutes, he pulled out and rolled from on top of you to lay beside you, wrapping you in his strong arms. You cuddled into them without a second thought, relishing in his warmth and protection. You both remained silent the whole time until you felt him take a deep breath.
“Do you…do you regret what we just did?” Yuta asked in a small voice.
“...No. Not even a little bit.”
“Thank god. We don’t have to do it again, I just wanted to make sure th–”
“What if I want to?”
“Huh?”
“What if I want to do it again?” you asked, adjusting so that you could look into his eyes.
“Then you’re gonna have to stop going on dates with shitty men.”
“Done. You’re the only man I need.”
© PU-RE-LOVE 2023. DO NOT COPY, REPOST, SHARE, TRANSLATE, REUPLOAD, OR CLAIM MY WORKS AS YOUR OWN ON ANY OTHER SITE.
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I’d sacrifice my firstborn for another Raider!Joel fic….
Failed rescue
1.9k, raider!Joel x f!Reader | raider master
mood board by @milla-frenchy
A/N: Picks up after the first Raider but can be read alone. Next: Raider: Stash house
WARNINGS: 18+ very dubious consent unsafe P in V, victim guilt, dark!Joel, gun violence (against your bf), forced gun play, forced cuckolding, forced masturbation (bf), Joel can lift reader.
After Joel has his way with you, you’re locked in a room for hours while the raiders continue their pillaging. Joel gets called outside, and the same rookies that captured you have a man on his knees. It's your boyfriend, Jack. He's begging to go into the house. This is unusual, and Joel wants to hear him out, telling the rookies to hold their fire. One of them explains, “He says his girlfriend’s in there. He just wants to make sure she’s safe.” The other men laugh.
“Is he armed?” Joel asks.
“Not anymore,” one of them says, holding up a Glock.
Joel reaches out for it. "I'll hang onto this." Then he turns his attention to Jack. “What’s she look like?”
He describes you. Joel’s jaw clenches and his eyes darken. He waits a beat before answering.
“Oh, she’s fine . . .” Joel says.
"Let her go," Jack pleads.
"Let her go. . ."" Joel repeats, and nods slowly like he's thinking. "C'mon, I'll take ya to her." The rookies look at each other hesitantly, then push Jack toward Joel. On the walk to the house, he thanks Joel over and over for having mercy on you.
-
You hear Jack’s voice approaching the door with Joel. Jack is thanking Joel, and you’re mostly relieved. Joel lets him in the room then stands imposingly in the door with his gun. Jack goes over to you on the mattress, looking you over, seeing if you’re okay. You throw your arms around him and he says, “Come on honey, let's get out of here.”
Joel says, “Who said anything ‘bout leavin’?” and uses his boot to slam the door behind him without taking his eyes off the two of you.
Jack’s face drains to white and you start to cry. Jack doesn’t even know about what Joel did to you. You feel a wave of guilt for the orgasm you had.
Joel trains his gun on Jack and says in a low, firm voice, “In the corner. Now. And take off your clothes”
Jack hesitates, but when Joel points the gun at you instead, he complies. He cowers in the corner naked while you sit crumpled up on the mattress.
“On your knees,” Joel tells you gently. He palms himself and starts unbuckling his belt, and an unwanted arousal stirs between your legs.
Jack begs “Please, no, no.”
“You’re gonna keep your mouth shut, understand?” Joel warns him, then looks at you and licks his lips.
“Please,” Jack whispers.
“What’samatter, don’t wanna see another cock in her mouth?,” Joel asks. "Fine." Joel points his rifle in your face. He nudges your chin with the cold metal of the long barrel and makes you look up at him.
“Open wide."
You whimper and hesitate.
"Sorry sweet pea, lover boy prefers it."
Jack begs Joel to put down the gun.
"I reckon you don't want another man's gun in her mouth either?" Joel takes off his rifle and puts it out of reach. He pulls Jack's Glock out of the back of his pants.
Joel nudges your lips with the muzzle. It's at least a little warmer from being in Joel's pants. Both you and Jack stop protesting.
You take deep breaths trying to stop crying, then carefully wrap your lips around the barrel.
"Now suck."
You're shaking like a leaf, your teeth chattering against the barrel, but you steel yourself and suck slowly. It's terrifying having a gun in your mouth, but there's also a nagging voice at the back of your mind saying Joel would never physically hurt you and this display of dominance is all for Jack's benefit. You wish Jack had stayed away once he saw the raiders.
"This better, Romeo?" Joel says, holding the gun in your mouth.
"No, no," Jack says.
You make eye contact with Joel, hoping it'll earn you some goodwill. You remember he told you to look at him with his cock in your mouth.
Joel looks at you hungrily and wets his lips. It sends a wave of arousal through you. He slides the gun out of your mouth.
"Doin' great, sweet pea. Pants off, now. Just like before." He looks at Jack.
Joel palms his hard cock over his pants, still holding the gun in his other hand while you take your pants off and avoid looking anywhere near Jack.
-
You don't realize how wet you are until the cool air hits your exposed pussy.
"Same way as before?" Joel asks. Jack whimpers and you don't want to face him.
"No," you say and turn around facing Joel.
"Alright then," Joel nods in approval. "Let's see those titties."
Joel gets down on his knees on the mattress with you. You sit up on your knees and he lifts your shirt and bra up with his free hand. The way he looks at your body makes you hot. You help him take your clothes off entirely and you're sitting on your knees. He nudges your knees open to make room for his hand.
"Good girl," he says. He gropes a breast while he rubs the barrel of the gun against your wet seam, sending a shiver through you. Your nipple hardens against his palm. "Mmmm," he says. He twists his wrist to put the gun muzzle-up and notch it at your entrance. He rubs himself as he begins to push the gun into you. Your heart races. If he even flinches, you could be blown to bits.
"Wait," you say. You reach for the bulge in his unbuttoned pants. His eyes widen. A smirk spreads across his face as he unzips himself.
"What, you want this?" He takes his big, hard cock in his hand, stroking it slowly.
"Yes." There's no hesitancy in your response. You're telling yourself it's better than the gun, and it's best to get it over with. But at the same time, you're yearning to be filled by him.
"Well damn," Joel chuckles proudly. "Hear that? She wants the D," he says to Jack, then softens his voice to address you again. "Any time, baby. All ya have to do is ask."
You nod, “Please.” You keep telling yourself it's just better than a gun, but the throbbing between your legs tells a different story.
"Attagirl, c'mere baby."
You're curious what Jack is doing in total silence, and you glance back at him one last time before you get on your back and spread your legs. Bad idea. The wet, sticky barrel of the gun presses onto your cheek and turns your head back toward Joel. His eyes darken. “You look at me and only me, understand?" Joel says firmly. "Let me worry ‘bout him.” You nod. His jaw clenches.
-
Joel looks Jack up and down and smiles, bemused. "Turn you on? . . . Get to it, then." You wonder if Jack was aroused.
Jack whimpers.
"Go on. It's there, might as well jack it." You don't know what to think about Jack being aroused. "Hell, finish before me and I might let you live."
A pit forms in your stomach. You don't want Jack dead.
Jack sobs and you begin to hear his hesitant strokes.
-
Joel walks forward on his knees to get all the way between your legs, hand wrapped around his stiff length. His cock is so nice, you can't help but admire it. You feel sorry for Jack having to see such superior equipment.
Joel leans over you, gun still in his hand, and rests the heel of his palm by your shoulder on the mattress. He aligns himself between your legs, and you throb in anticipation. He thumbs your clit.
“Doin’ great, baby. Now let’s show’m how good you take a real cock.” He wets his lips.
Joel closes his eyes and pushes his swollen tip inside with a grunt. You suppress a moan at the stretch of his girth. Then, he slams his length as far into you as he can. "C'mon baby, you can do it." His mouth hangs open as he backs up, then plunges into you more forcefully. You gasp as your insides part, and Joel sighs loudly as he bottoms out. Joel hovers over you, completely inside you, and looks from your eyes to your mouth.
"Good girl, just like that."
He slowly recedes then forcefully fills you up again, grunting "Mm." His girth is almost too much to handle. Your inner thighs stretch with his torso heavy between them. His pants rub against your skin. You can't help but wonder what he looks like completely naked. It's a shameful thought with a gun so close to your head. He begins to pound you at a regular rhythm. His eyes briefly look past you to the corner, and you wish he wouldn't remind you. You can hear Jack breathing heavily as he jerks off for his life.
Joel's voice is soft and low. "You're doing so good, sweet pea." He pounds your g-spot and you dread your orgasm. You try to resist it.
-
A guy outside the door says they're loaded up and ready to go. Joel tells him one truck will have to wait.
"Takin' you with me," Joel pants as he fucks you. Then he thrusts deep inside you and stays there. "I'll take care of ya. Won't let anyone touch ya" He rolls his hips into you masterfully, staying mostly inside you, not letting up on that special spot, and you can't hold off any longer. You wince and clench around his cock. You try not to moan as you ride your waves, but your back arches and the pressure builds in your face from holding your breath.
"Let it out, baby," Joel says, and you release your moan. He keeps thrusting into you slowly. As your climax wanes, you think about how Jack barely ever made you come. Not during sex. Not like this. It's terrible of you to think about, but even worse that you're thinking about Jack in past tense.
Joel's brow furrows. He breathes heavily. He pulls out and groans as he comes all over you in a broken trail from your cleavage to your groin. He catches his breath for a moment, then he looks at Jack regretfully.
Jack pleads, "no," and keeps stroking himself. "I'm almost finished," he says.
Joel closes his pants and holsters Jack's gun in the back of his waistband again. Then Joel puts his own rifle back on.
"Sorry, buddy. Time's up," Joel tells Jack, then turns to you. "Cover your ears, baby."
Joel calmly aims the gun at Jack and pulls the trigger without so much as blinking. You jump and your ears ring. You're in shock. You don't look back at Jack's body.
Joel swings his gun out of the way behind him, squats down, and takes you in his arms. "It's ok, sweet pea." You collapse into him, sobbing. "I know, baby, it's okay." He rubs your back. "I got you, baby." How does any part of you feel safe in these arms after everything he's done? It doesn't make any sense at all.
Joel tells you, "There's some real bad guys out there, sweet pea. My guys ain't the worst of 'em." You believe him.
"C'mon, let's get dressed," Joel tells you and starts to help you put your clothes on. "You want a ride again, or you gonna walk?"
-
All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea. @evyiione
(A/N): if you like the forced-j/o-to-save-your-life thing, i originally did it in michael makes them watch which has a different set-up and the stranger lives, but at what cost? btw michael is just a buff man in a mask - I never describe his real face/head or made him talk, so in that way he's kind of a blank slate to HC how you want. and slasher smut rarely has detailed warnings so generally assume the worst.
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Forget
Joel Miller x afab!reader || W/C: 618 (lil baby one today xx)
Summary: You're stressed, sad, and every painful emotion you can think of. Joel comes home, and you give him only one option in how he can comfort you.
Content/Warnings: No physical description of reader. Reader is so sad and full of emotion, she just wants Joel to help her forget. Literal porn from the get-go, so SMUT 18+ MDNI. Joel has a dirty, never-ending mouth. He talks sooo much and he talks ya through it... Daddy kink (only used twice and both at the beginning). Thigh riding. Allusion to P in V sex. Did I mention Joel is really vocal?🥴😵💫 Pictures are for aesthetic purposes only (credit to pinterest).
A/N: It has been a really stressful few weeks, and an even more stressful few days. Because I'm stressed, I kept thinking of Joel helping me de-stress, and this was born at 1am. I completely left Joel open to interpretation, so you can imagine him however you want! Whatever fits your sexiest fantasies hehe. This is not proof-read either... sorry about any mistakes! Much love. Enjoy.
MASTERLIST
“Just needa forget, don’tcha, sweet girl?”
“F-fuck, y-yes, daddy,” you whimper, your pussy soaked and pulsing as you grind back and forth on his thigh.
“That’s it. Just like that, darlin’. Daddy’s got ya,” Joel says, his hands on your hips, guiding the pressure and speed of your movement.
Joel just got home half an hour ago. His first sight was you, a sobbing mess on his couch. Baby, what’s wrong? He said as he rushed and crouched down to your side. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug first then grabbing his face and smashing your lips against his. Talk later you mumbled, need you you said as your lips lingered to his jaw, nipping little bites on your journey down. He pulled you off of him roughly, muttering an up as he scrambled to get himself on the couch, situating you into a straddle onto him. You were already wearing solely your underwear, so the moment your pussy made contact, you knew you were done for.
Now, here you are, on your way to your second climax on his thick muscle as he utters sweet praises in his thick, honeyed drawl that you could drink up for eternity.
“Doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, baby, such a good fuckin’ girl.”
“Almost there, baby, soak me one more time.”
“Get yourself nice and wet for me, mama, so I can fuck you real good.”
“Fuck all those fuckin’ thoughts right out that pretty little head of yours.”
My God, the mouth on this fucking man. With the help of his words, you’re so wound up, your hips are moving impossibly faster, chasing that second, much needed high.
“Please-” you let out, head falling back between your shoulder blades, your neck that he loves to mark beautifully on display for him.
His one hand leaves your hips and situates it to your jaw, gripping you tightly and forcing you to look into his eyes.
“Give it to me, baby. Give it to me, and I’ll give you what you’re so fuckin’ desperate for.”
“Fuck,” you’re louder now, your wails reverberating throughout the walls of his home. “Joel-” you gasp out.
“I’ve got ya, just let go, sweet girl.”
Your hips stutter, and within moments you’re flooding his thigh — warm, sticky, and drenched — fireworks exploding beneath your eyelids as your entire body is overtaken with a buzz only he has the ability to give you.
Both his hands are cradling your face now, caressing the apples of your cheeks as you recover.
“Always such a good girl f’me,” he says as he pulls your face into his for a soft kiss, your hands finding solace in the planes of his chest.
Out of breath, you rest your entire body on his, not caring about the mess underneath you right now. He wraps an arm around your waist, his other hand cradling the back of your head as he scratches his fingers through the base of your scalp. You hum in content.
“Thank you,” you whisper into his chest.
He uses his hand in your hair to gently ease you into looking up at him. He kisses your lips, then your forehead. “Not done with you yet, darlin’. Just givin’ ya a breather,” he smirks.
“Oh, I know, baby,” you reply, a lopsided, mischievous grin spread across your face.
He glances at your lips, then back to your eyes. “I love you,” he says. The warmth of it satiating and comforting you more than anything ever could.
“I love you,” you tell him, hoping you can translate everything you feel for him in those three, powerful little words.
He taps your rear. “Bedroom?”
“Please.”
Hi, all <3 I'm really sorry if I don't post as much this month - I really need to get my mental health back up first. I'm not completely disappearing though, I promise you that. I could never go more than a few weeks without writing something. Some of these next couple of posts may be self-indulgent and for purposes of my own comfort, but I still would like to share them with you all. Writing is an art form, a way to express ourselves, and if anyone can find comfort in anything I create, then that is why even in my own hard times, I continue to spread the beautiful intricacies of written word. I love you all. 💚
Tags: @javierpena-inatacvest @katiexpunk @janaispunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @lilynotdilly @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @pedrostories @akah565 @getitoutofmymind @joels-shitty-puns @its-nebuleuse @la-vie-est-une-fleur29
Please let me know if you'd like to stopped being tagged! Even if you're my moot, let me know. No hard feelings, I promise. Xx
EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!
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Hugging Headcanons (TF141 + König x GN!Reader)
Turns out, I'm better at full paragraph writing then headcanons, but we do our best in this house.
TW: Light swearing (like 2-3 words at most), little bit of cheeky adult(ish. Major ISH) behaviour, and mentions of anxiety/overthinking
| Blog HQ | Ghosts Version | Modern Warfare 2 Masterlist | 18+ MDNI | Taglist Open |
Soap:
If he had it his way, he'd be hugging you constantly. Loves (and I mean LOVES) physical contact and just being close to you in general.
He is also very vocal about this. From the beginning of your relationship he's made it known that he L I V E S for physical contact.
His favourite way to hug you is from behind, especially when you're not expecting it. The little jump then relaxing when you realize it's him brings him so much joy.
100% content with holding you from behind like this, chin resting on your shoulder as you do things.
Cooking? He'll be there, likely stealing some of the food before it's served (and laughing when he gets smacked with the spoon).
Paperwork? He'll try to hold you with one arm and write with the other, until Ghost or Price gives him shit because you're both now working at half your normal pace.
Anywhere, anytime. He's going to try to hug you.
If at any point you stop and think: "does Soap want a hug" the answer is yes. Always yes.
Soap always wants a hug, please hug him.
Ghost:
Would either be 100% hesitant and unsure of what he's doing, or 100% confident and assertive. No inbetween for this.
I feel he doesn't dislike physical contact (quite the opposite actually), but rather just hasn't had any physical or emotional connections in quite a while. So long in fact that he's grown fine without it. Until you came around.
Like context pre-hug aside, he probably did the cliche "tense right up then relax once he realizes he's safe" the first time you hugged him. Now he's hooked on the warmth of your body, the way you feel pressed into him, and how automatically relaxed he gets while being hugged.
Since he strikes me as someone who isn't huge on PDA (he's a rather private person) as much as he wants to hold you 24/7, he reserves this for moments when it's just the two of you.
The exception to the rule being stressful missions or any time when he was concerned for your wellbeing. He will gladly hold you close to remind himself that you're okay. No matter where you are, just a reminder that you're still here. You're still his. He pays no mind to anyone else in that moment outside of you and him.
He would NOT be open to questions or explanations the first time this happens, especially if it's in front of the guys. Yes, he's proud of you. Yes he's happy your his. No, they don't need to know every detail of your relationship.
Price:
I can see him being the "little bit obnoxious but a lot of love bear hug" type. Like you can't breathe but that's okay, he loves you a lot.
Much like Ghost - not huge on PDA. Partially because he likes to keep his personal life and work life seperate. But also a professional thing.
He leads a team, he has to keep up appearances. He also doesn't feel like dealing with his sergeants teasing the life out of him for being a softie.
He's also not a teenager anymore, his "I need to touch you at every minute of every hour" days are over. He's perfectly content holding you when appropriate/when he can.
He tries his best to balance work and home. Hugs and loving talks before bed are a MUST in this household. Of course you'll cuddle up in bed, but he makes a point to love up on you a bit more while you're both awake and can remember it.
Like everyone on this list: long hugs before he's deployed and when he first comes home. But I feel like his are more worth mentioning? He's been in the military either the entire time or majority of the time you've been with him. So because of that, you've sacrificed so much for this relationship so he could pursue his career/what feels right. The least he can do is set aside time for just you, to let you feel even a whisper of closure before he goes/when he returns.
I just imagine in the kitchen, tight hug. Ready to say goodbye, as he whispers stuff to you. Like whether it be bits of your vows, quotes he knows you live by, or just how much he adores you for everything. He would make an absolute point to give you another piece of his soul to treasure before he leaves (we can get into this more later if wanted)
Gaz
Another very playful soul. Not outward on PDA, but won't give up a chance to hug you quick or keep a hand on the small of your back.
You rank pretty high on the better things he has in life (if not on top), of course he's going to show you off. He landed a partner who is gorgeous inside and out.
As shown in game, he is a cheeky mf. So expect this to translate into the physical contact.
Mid-hug he may grab a handful of your ass, or start peppering kisses to your neck if hugging you from behind - then pretend like nothing happened (obviously in private. Time and place for everything folks).
I can see him being big on having his arm around your shoulders quite often. Like in resuraunts, resting his arm on the back of your chair, or doing the same while sitting on the couch with you. Just casual contact, a small flex of "they're mine, crazy right?"
Expect to be pulled into a tight hug, then dipped during your first kiss at your wedding. A little bit of flair and spice on your big day. Especially considering he got so flustered after your second or third date, that instead of going in for a goodbye/goodnight kiss he chickened out and opted to hug you close instead.
You melted when he told you that one night, when recounting the many stories and memories from your relationship.
So hugs, needless to say are pretty symbolic in your relationship
König
(Side note: I live and breathe the fact that his social anxiety is canon. I've never related to a character faster)
As anyone with social anxiety knows: it's not about whether you like physical contact or not -- it's normally the overthinking about "Do I initiate? Do I not? Do I pull away first? Am I hugging them for too long? Is this weird?"
He's very sweet overall, but quite awkward and overthinks hugging you initially. But wishes so much that you'd hug him over and over again.
He almost melts the first time you do, but is another "cliche freezes then relaxes" because he's so nervous. He really enjoys your company, he doesn't want to mess this up. He wants this to feel as nice and loving for you as it does for him.
Needless to say, it takes a little while and a lot of reassurance for him to get comfortable hugging you first. But when this day comes, oh boy watch out.
He will hug you at any opportunity. From behind hugs, side hugs, bear hugs, quick hugs, hugs where you do that little sway thing, hugs where you lightly rub the other persons back. He loves them all equally.
He especially loves hugs where you rest your face against his chest, and relax into him. Letting all the stress from your day fade for even a moment (because that's how he has always felt when you hugged him)
He found it both comical and endearing when you dragged a chair from across the room to in front of him to stand on so you could either (depending on your height and the chair)
1) Press your face into his neck without him having to bend right down
Or
2). Let him rest his head against your chest and relax.
Not that he'd ever admit it out loud, but that's the memory he finds himself thinking back to when he can't sleep during a long deployment. Or when he needs a quick pick-me-up after a long day.
Taglist: @bloodonmyhands-1221 @v1naco @bowtruckleninja
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music to my ears — choi san
PART THREE OF LILO'S 600 FOLLOWER EVENT
requested by anon. “congrats on 600 lovely !! <3 fluff list 2: “you wouldn’t, uh, maybe, want to stay the night, would you? i just really don’t want today to end.” & smut list 4: ❛ i love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. they don't get to have you, but i do. ❜ with san would be 🫠🫠”
lilo’s notes. thank you for the request anon!! i agree this is an absolutely amazing request and the prompts are just *chefs kiss*. that being said, i had to change them very slightly (like one or two words) just to fit the scenario a bit, i hope you don’t mind. <33
prompts. “you wouldn’t, uh, maybe, want to stay the night, would you? i just really don’t want today to end.” ; “i love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. they don't get to have you, but i do.”
pairing. choi san x fem!reader
warnings. smut below the cut, minors please dni, soft dom!san, soft sex, body worship, fuckbuddy!san, minimal dirty talk, praise, p in v, unprotected sex (pls don’t do this irl), nicknames (baby, love), slight overstimulation, aftercare, a lot of softness.
wc. 1.7k.
he was supposed to be a one night stand, a stranger you’d have some fun with and then forget about later.
what he was not supposed to be was a repeated cycle of waking up in his bed. but that’s exactly what san became. you weren’t exactly sure how to describe your relationship with him—friends with benefits? no, you didn’t really talk enough about your personal lives to consider him close to you in any other way than physical. fuck buddy? that was definitely more fitting, but something about it still felt off.
after the first night you spent together, you were intrigued, eager to find out everything he could do but had not yet shown you. so, before you left in the morning, you grabbed a pen and paper from his desk and wrote down your number and name (you couldn’t even remember his name so you doubted you ever gave him yours).
it didn’t take him too long to contact you. only a week later and you received a text message where he introduced himself. once you were reminded of who he was, you couldn’t suppress your excitement at the prospect of seeing him again. you were completely right about his intentions for it was only a few messages later that he threw in the information that he was stressed and could really use relief. you were happy to assist him.
your little adventures in his sheets quickly became something constant in your life, seeing him every couple days. soon enough you figured out you were both std free, so you let him go in without protection. the pleasure of it all never really left either of you with a desire to sleep with anyone else, since you didn’t have to worry about diseases or pregnancy (thanks to you being on the pill). and after the first night, you stopped leaving as soon as you woke up while he was still fast asleep, and with each encounter you’d find yourself staying just a bit longer each time. san was always very sweet, though his personality in bed was a bit unpredictable.
sometimes he was merciless, pounding into you at an ungodly speed while he whispered the filthiest things into your ear. other times, like now for instance, he’d be gentle, taking his time with your body, hands and lips ghosting over sensitive areas and mapping them out.
he already made you cum three times and by the time he finally entered you, you were quivering with overstimulation but still eager to continue. one of his hands had your wrists crossed and pinned over your head while the other trailed all over your body, gently teasing before he held your thighs together and bent them over your chest, his hips rolling against you sensually.
he knew your body well, knew what angles got your head spinning and what touches got your pussy gushing. occasionally he let out groans, but he was rarely too focused on his own release, keen on making sure you felt good. this particular position was a favourite of yours, it helped him reach inside you deeper and it increased the tightness around his cock, stimulating both of you in the most delicious way.
“you know,” his tone was soft, almost as if he were talking to you while reading a newspaper over breakfast and not fucking you. “you’re always so pretty for me.”
san leaned down and pressed featherlight kisses to the back of your calves, trailing them down to the back of your knees and causing a stampede of butterflies you forcefully swallowed. the pace of his thrusts was almost frustratingly slow, making you feel how his length filled you so thoroughly.
his hands grasped the back of your thighs and moved your legs carefully, to hook them around his waist. when he was fucking you like this, with this gentleness, he liked missionary. he liked it because it gave him a clear view of how your face contorted with the pleasure only he can provide you with. because he could lean down and kiss you and swallow all your moans.
“o-oh san…” you whimpered against his lips as he gave a sharp thrust different from all the other ones.
in response, he bit your lip and pulled it slightly before releasing it. san brushed his fingers over your cheekbone as he leaned his face back to watch the muscles of your face twitch and go slack. “hm, did you like that, baby? your sounds are like music to my ears. all your whimpers and moans, i never want to stop hearing them.”
you felt your nails digging into his biceps as he increased his pace just a bit, the contrast between his sudden roughness and the featherlight touches of his hands sliding up and down your glistening body making your head spin. he hummed, his eyes rich with all kinds of emotions as they surveyed the moaning mess you were.
“i love that no one else gets to see you like this.” he angled his hips a little differently so his whole cock dragged along your most sensitive spots. he reached one of his hands down to let his thumb circled your swollen, abused clit. “that no one else gets to feel you or be inside you. they don’t get to have you… but i do.”
something about the way he whispered those words so possessively. it sent your mind reeling and had your walls clenching around him tightly as another orgasm washed over you. your body shook and writhed beneath him, overwhelmed for a moment. you opened your mouth in a silent moan, but his hand moved to your chin to nudge it shut so he could finish with his own groans muffled against you.
a little after that, he pulled out of you, both of you shuddering as he collapsed on top of you with his head between your breasts. san’s hands traced from your shoulder to your hands, holding them as if they were delicate and could break at any second, his hazy mind calming down as he listened to your heartbeat and felt the rise and fall of your chest. when you squeezed his hands, he sat up slightly dropping your right hand to hold onto your left one with both of his. he brought it up to his face and kissed your palm.
you let him, watching him silently as your cheeks warmed with heat and your stomach stirred with something other than arousal. he placed heartfelt pecks against your palm before he moved his lips to press more pecks on the inside of your wrist and then up your arm, all the way until he got to your shoulder. there, he lifted his lips, but not for very long as he placed a kiss against the spot over your heart and then continued travelling upwards. his tender kisses littered your neck and cheek until, finally, he pressed a firm kiss to your lips.
you shivered and held him close, not quite processing how intimate all of this was. but soon enough, he got up from the bed and returned with a fresh pair of boxers on and a wet towel. he took ahold of your ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed so your knees hang off it. spreading your knees apart, he kneeled on the ground, eye level with the area he intended to clean.
as he wiped away all the cum and arousal, you twitched every now and then, stinging from the slight overstimulation. whenever you flinched, he’d pull his hand back and glance up at you, not continuing until he saw your discomfort eased. occasionally he’d press his lips against the inside of your thighs and your kneecaps, mumbling sweet words against them.
“you did so well, just relax now, love.” “does this feel okay, it’s not too much, is it?”
once he was done, san took the panties he had haphazardly tossed away from the bed and slid them up your legs, patting your hips once he got them on you. figuring you’d be cold, he also grabbed a shirt from his closet, slipping his hand under your back to help you sit up (though you weren’t that exhausted, but who were you to complain?) and dressing you in the soft, grey material.
when you woke up the next morning, you were facing each other, legs tangled under the sheets. he was already awake, absentmindedly tracing shapes on the skin of your waist under the shirt as he looked at you. there a warm smile spread itself onto his face when he noticed you were awake. his hand moved to the small of your back and drew you closer, holding you tightly and kissing your forehead.
briefly you considered asking what he saw you as. sure, after you slept together he’d usually be very affectionate. but something was different last night; the lingering kisses, the intimacy, the shockingly affectionate tenderness of his eyes. you pushed those thoughts away. there was no way he thought of you the way you thought of him.
still, a part of your soul couldn’t help but stay hopeful as he hesitantly uttered his next words.
“you wouldn’t, uh, maybe, want to stay for the rest of the day, would you? i just really don’t want this to end.”
you stopped yourself from cooing at his nervousness, nodding slowly. “i’d love to stay.”
“good.”
a beat of silence followed that, neither of you sure of what to say next. it was an awkward or uncomfortable silence, it was calm. the few rays of sunlight that got past his curtains provided the room with a soft glow, the pair of you engulfed by the warmth of the blanket.
he brought your hand up to his face and, much like the night before, pressed a kiss to your palm and then your wrist. the sensation left tingles on your skin and your breath hitched, something he took note of with a smirk.
“can i have my hand back yet?” you asked jokingly, your chuckle ringing through his ears.
“hmmm,” he nipped at your wrist, “no.”
[ networks . . . ] @cromernet @blankjournal
[ perm taglist . . . ] @ad0rechuu @sankatchu
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medicine
husband!joel x reader
fic masterlist
summary: your mind and his heart are breaking in sync and medicine doesn't seem to be fixing either.
content: angst, angst, angst, what's new tbh, I'm v sorry I didn't mean to torture you, reader's got mental health problems, joel is a contractor, no outbreak (no use of y/n, no outbreak, age gap (reader is in her 20s, joel is in his 40s))
warnings: terrible mental health, mentions of self harm, mentions of prescribed drug and sedative use, please don't read this if any of this is going to trigger you, this fic might be short but it's super heavy!!
word count: 1.1k
a/n: the way I sobbed writing this lmaoo im sorry T.T, i'm super sick and wrote this in one morning so forgive any errors pls
the door creaks open with a soft lament, announcing joel's arrival.
he's home, but he's not; a tangible ghost hovering between two worlds—one defined by deadlines, contracts, and relentless stress, the other confined to the four walls of a home that has grown colder with each passing day. his footsteps trace a familiar path down the hallway, each one laden with hesitancy and regret, as if the floorboards themselves are a minefield.
when he finally enters your bedroom, you're on the floor, surrounded by photos torn from their frames. your eyes are vacant, aimlessly scanning the images while your mouth mutters words without meaning. the coherent world has slipped through your fingers like grains of sand, and you're drifting on an endless tide, lost in your own head once again.
his eyes scan the scene, widening with a mixture of despair and recognition. "what is happenin’ here, angel?” his voice cracks, a frayed rope on the verge of snapping. you can't answer him, your own words a garbled mess that even you don't understand.
the pill bottle sits untouched on the nightstand, a mute accusation. he glances from you to the bottle and back, his face the canvas of a losing battle between frustration and fear. “y’need to take your medicine,” he exhales, grasping for some sense of normality.
"i don't... why? no. no!" your resistance manifests in broken sentences, but the message is clear in your wild eyes and trembling hands—you hate those pills, hate the haze they cast over your mind and the way they strip you of whatever agency you have left.
"please," he implores, his voice tinged with desperation. he takes a step toward you, but you recoil, pushing yourself further into the corner of the room. the boundaries of his world are closing in, contracting with each day that passes. “y’have to take it,” he repeats even as it kills him, “you ain’t safe like this, sweetheart.”
not safe because he’s seen the frantic mess you turn into. the way you try to find all the knives he’s hidden away in the depths of the attic. the way you pull your hair out in handfuls - the hair he so dotingly does up in braids or in little bows every morning.
a choked sob escapes your lips, a wounded sound that cuts through the tension like a knife. "don't...no, can't...please..."
his eyes dart to the windows, then to the walls that separate your home from your neighbors. "shhh, angel, we can't disturb the people next door, come on now," he says, but his attempt to mask his panic with practicality is failing. the strain is showing in the tight line of his jaw and the pinched corners of his eyes.
he reaches for the pill bottle with shaking hands, the weight of each second like a stone sinking in water. he pours a pill into his palm and moves toward you. you lash out, disoriented, your hand making contact with the bottle, sending it flying across the room. pills scatter on the carpet like lost stars.
for a moment, joel just stands there, staring at the mess as if it's a physical manifestation of your lives—chaotic, broken, irretrievable. then, grabbing the box with syringes from your shelf, he rushes toward you, grabs your flailing arms, and restrains you with an iron grip that's part desperation, part surrender. he holds you tight, as if by sheer force he can meld the fractured pieces of your existence back together.
it hurts you and he knows his grip isn’t gentle. it's ugly. it's painful. but it's the only way he knows to keep you from falling off the edge, the only way he can tether you to a reality that's slipping further and further away. his arms tremble around you, and his breath comes out in ragged gasps that mirror your own disordered breathing.
"i love you. god, i love you so much," he chokes out in apology, the words barely audible over the sound of both your shallow breaths. you can't reply, your own voice lost in the labyrinth of your fragmented mind, but you cling to him as if he's the last solid thing in a world made of quicksand.
finally, your resistance wanes, drained by the struggle, by the sedative he manages to get into your arm after what felt like an eternity of fighting. your body goes limp in his arms, and he gently, carefully, lays you down on the bed. his hands hover over you for a moment, as if he's afraid to let go, afraid that if he does, you'll slip through his fingers for good.
only when he's sure you're asleep does he allow himself to break. he sits on the edge of the bed, head in his hands, and cries. silent, gut-wrenching sobs that he's held back for too long. he weeps for you, for him, for the love that's become a war zone, a place of unending battles with no victories in sight.
his shoulders shake as he cries, looking at the scratches your nails have left on his arms through his tears. he thinks of the hours he's spent away from you, lost in a job that demands more than he has left to give. each contract signed, each project completed, feels like another step away from you.
he thinks of tomorrow, and the day after, each stretching out in front of him like an endless road leading nowhere good. what if it happens again? what if he comes home to find you worse? if? when. when it happens he has no idea what he’ll do.
the hardest thought, the one that hurts the most, is the future he can no longer picture, the one where you fade away completely, lost in a mind that's become a maze with no way out. he can almost see himself, years from now, sitting beside a bed where you lay but are not really there, your eyes vacant, your hands still. the thought is too much and it breaks his heart.
he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, stands up, and looks at you one more time. you're peaceful now, your face relaxed. for a brief moment, he allows himself the illusion that everything is okay, that you're simply asleep, and that you'll wake up tomorrow as the person he fell in love with.
but deep down, he knows the truth. love, as strong and as deep as it is, can't fix this. he can’t fix this. and as he leaves the room, switching off the light and plunging the world into darkness, that thought is the heaviest burden of all.
--
tysm for reading. also a big thank you for all the love on my other fics, makes writing all the more fun
love, d 🖤
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Tame Me - Chapter 4 (Bonus Chapter)
🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞
A/N: A bunch of you guys wanted to see Neteyam's rut and so did I. And I wanted to do something nice for you guys as a thank you for all the love and all the follows. I'm so happy that you all enjoy the series since it's my first one ever. So I hope you guys enjoy this bonus content too! All characters are aged up.
Previous Part
Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader
Warnings: Explicit Smut with little plot, P in V, Oral (M receiving) Creampie, Knotting, Rut, Dom!Neteyam, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Bruises, Marking, Hair Pulling, mentions of pregnancy, I think that's all
Word Count: 2.4k
Summary: It's your first time seeing Neteyam's rut and you were excited, but you quickly find out you're in over your head.
“It’s time for your rut, isn’t it?”
Neteyam swallows hard fighting back the animalistic urges taking over his mind. He nods his head solemnly.
You hold a warm expression on your face so that you don’t show how excited you actually are. You place your hands on either side of his face and make him look you in the eye while he still has some power over himself. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll be here to help you.”
“But tíyawn, I do not want to hurt you. I will be too rough.” His hands are trembling resting on top of yours. Your poor boy, suffering cycle after cycle just like you used to.
“Ma’Teyam, I can take it. Please…use me.”
‘Use me’. Those two little words echoed throughout his mind triggering his most primal instincts. He’s visibly wincing from how hard he is.
Your hands trail down his neck to his throbbing hard erection. Your face follows right behind, and the smell of his pheromones are so much stronger here. You’ve always craved him on any normal day, but the way he smells right now makes you feel physically hungry. He’s watching you hesitantly, fighting desperately to hold on to whatever semblance of sanity he still has. He watches while you untie his loincloth and let a long string of spit fall from your full lips onto his tip. You stroke him up and down and you’re amazed at just how hard he is right now. You’ve never felt it like this. It even looks bigger somehow if that were even possible.
Nevertheless, you maintain burning eye contact with him while you hold out your tongue and drag it up his full length and close your lips around the tip. The feeling fully knocks the air from Neteyam’s lungs. You never take your eyes off his while you slide your mouth up and down on his dick. Your hand strokes the remaining length that you can’t quite fit in yet. His eyes are flickering showing his internal struggle. You pop off him for a second, “Let go, Ma’teyam. Let me take care of it for you” and you go right back to sucking and stroking.
His eyes go completely dark and totally focused. His stare is almost menacing. It makes your chest tingle with excitement and nerves. He shuffles around to fully stand and looks down at you with a face you’ve never seen him wear before.
“Alright, you want to help me so bad, open.” His voice even sounds different. It comes from deep in his chest. He slaps the tip of his dick on your lips waiting for you to open them, so you do. He takes a second to just relish in the feeling of your mouth enveloping him before he slams his full length into your throat. The lack of warning makes you jump. You would’ve yelped, but his tip in your throat keeps any sound from coming up. Catching your breath between strokes is almost impossible and your face is full on covered in tears and drool running down your chin.
Neteyam looks at you and fuck if you weren’t just the most alluring thing he’s ever seen. With the way you look right now, he felt like he could fuck your face all day. Every thrust into your mouth elicited a new sound from you and it was like music to his ears.
The force of his thrusts stings the back of your throat, but you do your best to power through. His hands hold the sides of your head, pulling your nose to be flush with his pelvis. “Fuck I love making you choke on my dick.” More tears run from the corners of your eyes, and you just try to concentrate on taking care of him.
He pulls out of your mouth, and you gulp down as much air as you can, but the feeling stings your bruised throat. Before you can even steady your breathing, there’s a strong grip on the base of your queue yanking your head up. “Tongue out. I wanna watch you swallow it.”
You comply and hold your tongue out as far as you can while Neteyam rests his tip in your mouth and strokes himself until he cums. Fuck, he even tastes sweeter when he’s in rut. It’s thick and hot on your mouth, and there’s so much of it, but you still close your lips and swallow it down. Opening your mouth again to show him it’s all gone; he smiles deviously at you. “Such a pretty little slut.”
His tone strikes a new chord in your body. Your throat stings with every gasp for air, but you’re also so fucking wet.
You’re given little to no time to process, though, because immediately Neteyam is flipping you on to your stomach and hiking your hips up into the air. He rips your loincloth from your body sending your beads scattering about the room.
“W-wait Neteyam!”
“Shut up” his voice is a deep snarl next to your ear, “You said you can take it, so fucking take it.”
He lines his length up with your pulsing hole, “You’re this wet already? So fucking needy for my dick.”
You can’t help the burn in your cheeks. In an instant, Neteyam completely bottoms out inside of you making you scream. He gives you no chance to adjust to his new size before he’s pounding into your hips.
“Ah!...Ma’Teyam haah…F-fuck! So big!” a string of curses and whimpers fall from your mouth. His thrusts are relentless. “Shit…I love this fucking pussy” his grip on your hips is bruising. You try to push your body forward to relieve some of the pressure, but he jerks you back, “Don’t fucking run from me.” His hand lands on your ass in a sharp sting. And another and another.
“I’m sorry! Shit! I’m sorry Ma’Teyam!” you cry out. He’s transfixed watching your ass bounce against him. His grunts are heavy with desire.
You can already feel the pressure building in your core.
“Shit! S-shit ‘Teyam! G-gonna cum!” your words come out broken in between moans. He wraps the length of your queue around his forearm and pulls it so that your head is held back, mouth stuck open in a silent scream. He leans over with his lips right next to your ear, “Say my fucking name”.
The pleasure is overwhelming, “Neteyam! Ah, Neteyam!” his name falls from your lips like a prayer until the pressure bursts inside your body and your legs shake under you.
You’re not given a chance to come down from your high as Neteyam continues to drill into your pussy at an unforgiving pace.
“Neteyam! I-I can’t..!” you whimper, but he still doesn’t let up.
“Yes, you can. This is my pussy, right?”
You nod your head trying to ride out the pleasure. Another yank on your queue, “Say it.”
“Fuck! Yes, Neteyam! I-it’s yours…haah…it’s your pussy!” you submit your body completely to him and you can feel his knot growing.
He drops his grip on your queue and grabs both of your arms pulling them behind you and using them as leverage to rut into you harder. With every thrust, he’s pulling you back onto him even harder and his tip is pushing in further.
“Louder tíyawn, let the whole clan hear who you belong to.”
Your vision is going blurry, no doubt from your eyes crossing and losing their focus. Heavy pants break your sentences. “I’m yours Neteyam! *thrust*….I belong *thrust* to you! *thrust*...Ah! F-fuck! *thrust* Only you Neteyam!”
Finally, he fits his knot inside and you’re almost positive his tip has penetrated the opening of your cervix. Your whole body quakes under the power of your second orgasm. Right at the same time, Neteyam spills his seed directly into your womb, filling it with white.
He releases your arms, and you completely fall to the floor. You’re finally given a minute to catch your breath.
You weakly turn your head to look back at him and, to your horror, his eyes are still dark. He’s still in the thick of it. “We’re not done yet”, he pulls his hips back.
“W-wait Neteyam! You shouldn’t pull it out yet!” he doesn’t listen to you and continues to pull his knot out of you. It’s painful, but the relief you feel once it’s out, is unmatched. Your legs give out under your weight and Neteyam uses his own strength to flip you onto your back.
He hovers over your body and starts attacking your neck with kisses and bites.
“Ma’Teyam, we should take a minute to get something to drink” you try to reason with him.
“Just one more. Need…need you. I need you so bad, yawne.” His hips are griding against you longing for more friction. His voice is low, but there’s a sense of desperation in it. You know you could never deny him, so you relent. You throw your arms around his neck and hold him close to you.
This was going to be a long night.
…
It’s the middle of the night by the time Neteyam finally comes back to his senses. His eyes were wide with horror taking in the state of your body. Deep purple bruises along your hips, thighs, and neck. Your throat and shoulders were littered with puncture wounds from where he had sunk his teeth into you repeatedly. Your hair was a tattered mess on your head and your pussy was overflowing with his seed. You were totally exhausted and barely hanging on to consciousness.
“Ma’tíyawn, are you alright? I am so sorry. Look at what I’ve done to you.” He hung his head in shame. Your hand rested on his cheek and rubbed small comforting circles on to his skin.
“I am fine, Ma’Teyam. I am just glad that you are feeling better now.” You offer him your best smile, but even the muscles in your face feel week.
He tenderly scoops you up into his arms and carries you to the lake near your shared tent. He holds your body in the water so he can help clean you up. Its warmth helps to soothe your aching body. You rest your head against his chest and let sleep take over you knowing you finally had your Neteyam back.
Neteyam notices the way your breathing steadies in his arms and realizes you fell asleep. He smiles warmly down at you and brings you back to your home just before the sun rays can start to shine in the sky. He lays you down in the hammock so that he can clean up the mess that was made around your home. When he’s done, he moves to lay with you and holds you tightly against his body. It’s only now that he realizes how worn out his own body was. He places a small kiss on your shoulder before he lets himself drift off too.
It’s practically the middle of the day by the time you both wake up. Your body feels like you’ve done battle with a horde of angry palulukans and they won. It hurts to move everything, but that doesn’t stop you from reflexively throwing your body from your hammock and running over to your basket when you feel your stomach do a somersault. In half a second, everything in your stomach comes up and out of you. Neteyam is fully thrown awake at the sound of your retching, and he rushes to your side.
“Yawne, what is wrong?” his eyes are full of concern and his hand is holding your hair back out of your face.
“I don’t know. I’m just so tired and everything is sore, even my chest for some reason.” That was weird. Your nipples were raw from being sucked and pinched half the night, but your breasts themselves were fine when you fell asleep.
“We should take you to see my grandmother.”
You want to protest since your body is in such a battered state and you didn’t want people to see, but you feel so miserable, there’s no more energy to worry about how you look right now. You nod your head and let Neteyam help you get dressed and lead you to the healing tent.
People stare and whisper as you walk by them, and your cheeks burn with embarrassment.
Thankfully, you make it into the privacy of the healing tent and there’s no one else in here.
“Grandmother, we need your help. Something is wrong.” He helps guide you down into a sitting position in the tent.
Mo’at’s eyes go wide at the sight of you, “what happened to you child?”
You and Neteyam say nothing as you both look struggle to look her in the face and trip over your words. Her eyes flash with realization and she nods her head understanding the situation. She pulls her small sharp bone and pricks your skin with it before raising it to her lips. She closes her eyes listening to Eywa for the answer. She gasps and her eyes shoot open. A gentle smile pulls at her lips, and she turns to you both, “you are with child”.
What? Child? As in, you were pregnant?
Your face is one of utter shock. It’s not like you didn’t think this could be a possibility and it’s not as if you and Neteyam were taking any precautions to not let this happen. Truthfully, when you think about it, it would have been more shocking if you hadn’t ended up pregnant. Speaking of Neteyam, what does he think about all of this? You turn to look at his face and it is full of joy. He’s clearly delighted at the news which gives you comfort. You don’t even realize the smile on your own face. A baby. You and your love had made a little life inside of you together. You could already feel your love for your baby growing.
“You must be sure to rest and take it easy.” She says the last part pointedly towards Neteyam clearly referencing your current state.
He chuckles lightly to himself heeding his grandmother’s words. He holds your face in his hands and his gaze is full of all his love for you and your unborn baby. You smile back at him and now, you can’t wait for your family to grow.
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In Dreams
Pairing: Din Djarin x f!Reader
Summary: “You heard yourself begging but had no idea if he could hear you, if he could recognize the tenacity in your voice.”
Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI). The moment you’ve all been waiting for. (Kinda.) P in v sex, oral (f receiving). If I missed anything please let me know!
AN: Part six of Stupid For You!!
Soundtrack: In Dreams by Sierra Ferrell
Staggering into your cot was easy. Your only difficulty now was convincing your mind to catch up with your body, to rest your head and fall asleep the way your limbs begged you to.
All you could think about was Din. Din drinking with you. Din’s hand wrapped around your thigh. Din’s body pressed against yours. Din and how he’d put effort into breaking down barriers with you in such a short span of time—that more than anything made your head spin. And if you had been any more sober, maybe your hand would be able to manage finding the waistband of your trousers; maybe you’d have the energy to put his actions to good use. Any drunker, and you would’ve stayed up in the cockpit with him hoping for much of the same. Instead, you pushed your face against the flat, cold pillow of your cot and forced yourself to sleep.
In life, Din was cold; physically, obviously, due to the heavy armor he walked around with that seemed to never retain any heat from the interior of the ship, and emotionally. Maybe lately it was different; it was. It was different, but it wasn’t enough. Not for you, not for someone who felt as though she was being laid bare while he was still keeping in step for the most part. Din was hidden and mysterious, and while that was one of the things that first drew you in, now all you wanted was more. More contact, more conversation, more of him all to yourself.
In dreams, you were able to experience everything you wanted and more. When you succumbed to your inebriation and the exhaustion your body was screaming from, you found yourself with a world of possibility.
Din’s gloveless hands trailed over your naked body, dipping and tracing over the curves of your waist and hips before moving back up to cup your breasts and squeeze lightly. He picked you up, placing you on a bed far more ornate than the one you regularly slept on, combing his fingers through your hair before tucking stray strands behind your ear. He stood, towering before you as he stripped down and out of his armor. The silence was loud. It was so loud. And every time he dropped a piece of the beskar to the floor it became louder. Now bare and warm and welcoming, he draped himself over you where you were spread out on the plush sheets.
“Take it off.” His voice was needy, even through his helmet; not begging, but not demanding you to act.
“I’m not wearing anything…” Your own voice wavered, echoing around the room inside your mind.
“No,” he pushed himself up slightly, reaching for your hands and placing them on either side of his helmet, “Take it off.” Now he was begging.
You felt torn between the options you had: on one hand he was asking, pleading you to remove it from him, remove it for him; on the other, you couldn’t deny the impact of what you could be doing, how this could ruin everything that had happened thus far, make him resent you for allowing him to break the Creed. Maybe it was a test. You kept your hands cemented in place, your palms growing clammy against the metal. He placed his hands over yours and stared at you through the visor.
“I’m telling you, it’s ok.” He moved your hands up with his, slowly removing the helmet, centimeter by centimeter. “It’s ok.”
You saw Din’s chin first, followed by the plush pink of his lips. He had a smattering of stubble, and you watched his tongue poke out between his lips in concentration as he continued to pull your hands along with his. He had a mustache, and while it wasn’t well kept to the fullest extent, it made sense on him—it was cowboyish and rogue. Next to be revealed was his nose, and it was as he had described it: big and curved. It framed his face, made him look sculpted, and you had to stop yourself from wriggling your hands out from under his to trace it with your fingers. You looked up and found his eyes staring back at you. Big and brown, and, most strikingly, innocent. His demeanor was fierce and earnest, but his eyes looked almost like they belonged to somebody else entirely; they were a deep chocolate color and filled with worry, his eyebrows falling over them in a manner that made him look deeply concerned.
Maybe he was.
All you could do was look. It was enough to know that Din was looking back at you, no helmet between your gaze. His fingers brushed your cheek before he had his hand over the back of your head, maintaining eye contact as he spread his fingers over your scalp. He didn’t have to ask for what he wanted, you knew, leaning forward as if by habit to lock lips with him. He pulled you flush against him, and you felt all of him as his lips met yours. You had no control over the situation, and your body acted accordingly, falling limp for him and him alone. His tongue ran over your bottom lip, and you felt yourself open up for him, letting him taste you in full. He removed himself from you, moving down your body and tracing small kisses over you as he went.
You heard yourself begging but had no idea if he could hear you, if he could recognize the tenacity in your voice. Like clockwork, he had his mouth on your core, gently kissing at your clit, and you felt paralyzed in pleasure. Unmoving, you continued to beg, to have him give you more, give you anything. As if you had willed it, he licked into you, mouth open against your hole, tongue fucking into you eagerly. His hands clutched your thighs, keeping you open for easy access as he drew circles over your clit with his tongue before delving back into you. You looked up as best you could, met with the image of Din’s lips covered in your wet. Your head fell back against the pillow you were lounging on and you felt something thick and hard enter you. As he curled and twisted inside of you, you realized Din had placed one finger into your aching, dripping cunt, further tormenting you with his movements. You tried to make a noise, but it got stuck in your throat as he continued to lick at your clit while he pumped his finger in and out rhythmically.
“More?” His voice sounded tinny, as if it were still going through the modulator, but hearing what he said was all that mattered to you. You nodded frantically, and he slipped another finger into your heat. You moaned and he smiled at you from his position over your bottom half. You tried reaching out to him, but your limbs were so heavy and all you could do was lie back and enjoy his ministrations. You felt your stomach tighten and the muscles in your legs contract, and as you felt Din brush against the spongey spot inside you, a bright light of calm fell over you.
What happened next, you have no idea, but you were in a new position than you had been; your face was buried into the sheets while you rested on all fours, and rough hands were guiding your ass up higher than the rest of your body. You felt something rub against your pussy, smearing your juices across your lips and clit, and you looked behind you as best you could.
“Ok?” Din was looking back at you, fist wrapped around his cock as he brushed it against you.
“Yeah,” you faced forward once again, “please.” You hoped he could hear you as you planted your face against the mattress. You felt him slide into you completely, with no time to adjust, and as he bottomed out you reached a hand behind you in search of him. He took it in his own, a sign of trust and reassurance that doubled as a leverage for him to ram in and out of you with ease. You heard him moan in unison with you, filthy noises surrounding the silence that had once clouded everything around you, and you relaxed into the way he rocked his hips.
He reached around you with the hand that wasn’t holding yours and attached his fingers to your clit, groaning at the noises you made for him. You clenched around his cock, squeezing his hand in an effort to communicate your satisfaction in his movements and his handling of your body.
“Mesh’la,” he pushed himself into you repeatedly, trying to find the spot that would make you melt for him, “one more time.” There it was.
The light engulfed you again, but any noise you made was again caught in your throat. You tried to move and suddenly you broke through the pleasure and found yourself flailing against your small mattress. Blinking, you reacquainted yourself with your surroundings and kicked at the sheets you had rearranged during your unconscious tryst.
You stared at the wall, sweaty and aching, rationalizing what you had just imagined in such vivid detail. You willed yourself to forget the face Din had shown you, feeling as though it was a betrayal to see him even if it was a face your psyche had made up as a placeholder for his visage. You kicked at the sheet again as you came to terms with the fact that it was becoming much more of a struggle to preserve any shred of professionalism you had left around Din, and you’d either have to find a way to have him acknowledge the swift change of pace in your relationship—whatever it was—or restrain any further amplifications of it. Either option made you feel helpless; all you had wanted was a job, and now you were experiencing the most extreme type of professional strife you could’ve imagined. It isn’t that you were incapable of taking it slow, rather it was the fact that you physically couldn’t allow any distance from him; not only was your entire job centered around caring for the Crest and for the kid, but the only time you had away from Din was when he was out looking for someone—and you always felt somewhat incomplete without him.
You mulled over everything, excusing your sudden intense feelings toward the situation as hungover anxiety that would be gone within 24 hours or less.
A distressed whine caught your attention and pulled you out of bed.
I hope I'm in your dreams
The way you are in all of my mine
You've got a love so fine
I wish that I could make you mine
Tag list <3
@queerponcho @abbygraceasd @sanscas @amberpanda99 @djarins-cyare @krissy-fallen @onlybassoon01 @leithatnight
If you would like to be part of the taglist for this series, let me know!!
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hi!! Can u do a to z sfw with Mingyu seventeen? Thank you!
A To Z: SFW Analysis
Mingyu
A = Affection
he insta the most affectionate person, and he has often shows his affection by taking care of his partner's primary needs like doing groceries, opening things for them or something do laundry for exemple. physical touch isn't something he would do often
B = Best friend
he is a good friend, he is someone that understand others on an emotional level. you can come to him for advices but he will have a very particular way of thought. his friendships are passionate and always here when you need him and he would help and take care of his friends
C = Cuddles
he isnt much of a cuddle, like I said earlier, physical touch isn't his priority
D = Domestic
yes he would want to settle down but only if he really is serious about the relationship. expect him to be often cook or clean and help around in the household
E = Ending
the breaks up probably happen either because you two fought and he got agressive or because he just simply started to ignore you
F = Fiance(e)
Mingyu have commitment issues and despite wanting to get married it would take a while until he finds someone he is really serious about
G = Gentle
physically he isn't gentle but he isn't rough either. he is careful lets say. emotionally however, he is very gentle and he often takes into consideration his partners needs
H = Hugs
no, they don't like hugs that much unless its to initiate something physical
I = I love you
he probably says it rather fast into to the relationship
J = Jealousy
they aren't very jealous but they are competitive
K = Kisses
their kisses are very technical, like you can feel that he has experience. they aren't rough or wet, they are just right
L = Little ones
he likes children and wants children of his own. he sees it as a necessity and he probably needs a partner that wants to have children of their own
M = Morning
in the morning he has a very organized routine and he doesnt like to change it too much. waking up, getting ready, get his breakfast going, whatever his routine is it is usually what he sticks with for the rest of his life
N = Night
they usually envolve physical or sexual contact in any type of way. its intense, its passionate, make out sessions could also be possible before going to sleep
O = Open
good luck to get him open. it doesnt matter how far into the relationship you guys are, he doesn't open often. Mingyu is the type to keep things to himself and he doesnt like to share things even with his partner
P = Patience
he has a lot of patience, honestly Mingyu isn't easy to upset or to anger and he is rather controlled about his emotions in general
Q = Quizzes
they remember the most random things about you and forget about the most obvious things. his mind works a little too fast for him
R = Remember
probably the times where he had to flirt with you, where he has to tease you, to make you laugh, these are his favorite moments about you both.
S = Security
they are very protective of you. I wouldn't say he is jealous, like is aid he is very competitive but its more of a protective feeling then a jealous one, he just want you to be safe
T = Try
he puts a lot of effort actually, if he likes you Mingyu would want to impress you and offer you the best he has. he can be quite romantic sometimes
U = Ugly
he gets judgmental way too easily about some of your behaviors
V = Vanity
he does care a lot about his image, specially the image he gives to others and on his work, when he is with you he is more layback
W = Whole
he would be okay when you aren't around since he isn't the type to develop dependable relationships
X = Xtra
he is the type to bring you breakfast in bed if he wants something from you
Y = Yuck
he would hate if his partner is messy around the house. He wants them to be very neat
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
he just sleeps tight, he isn't much of a snorer or agitated at night, he usually rather quite and doesnt move much
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Ropecabulary:
My understanding and usage of some common words and phrases found in rope bondage:
*These are not the only definitions for these words within and without the world of shibari and other people may have different understandings and experiences of these words - the world is a vast and rich place!*
Rope bondage: a type of bondage which utilizes rope in wrapping, binding, restraining, suspending a person, often but not exclusively, as an act of bdsm
BDSM: an acronym standing for Bondage Dominance (or Discipline) Sadism (or Submission) Masochism
Shibari: to bind or tie
Kinbaku: the act of binding a body tightly
*Both shibari and kinbaku are colloquially used to describe rope bondage and often interchangeably - I use shibari as a synonym for 'rope tying' and kinbaku to describe the act of exchanging energy with another by way of binding them or being bound by them - as this is my understanding and experience of the application of these words*
Tension: as a verb and a noun - the act of applying force to stretch (v) the state of being stretched (n)
Examples: "If you tension your harness too much, your partner won't be comfortable"
"There was not enough tension in the harness and the rope slipped down her shoulder"
Friction: the resistance to motion that occurs when two objects touch - in rope bondage it is a series of movements that captures tension where two or more ropes meet. So what that looks like in rope bondage is varied and numerous as friction may occur any place where two rope paths interact - a munter hitch is a friction, a half hitch is a type of friction, a simple twist is a type of friction, an x friction is a friction, etc...
Examples of frictions:
Bight: A loop of rope, as distinct from the rope's ends
When you fold your rope in half, the middle curve or loop created is called the "middle bight"
Rope ends/tails/working end: the ends of a length of rope, as distinct from its middle bight.
The ends of the rope describe the two ends of a length of rope which has been folded in half for shibari practice - these may be knotted at the end of finished in another manner
The physical ends of the rope also guide the ''working end'' of your rope which is another term for the length of rope continuing out from the bight or initial anchor point
Examples: "I secured my single column tie around their ankle and continued wrapping my working end up their leg"
"I like to make sure my rope ends are tucked away when I've finished building a harness."
Column: the body part or thing you are tying around
Examples: an arm, a torso, a chair leg, a pillow, etc..
Single column tie: a secured cuff of rope encircling one column or encircling more than one column together as one column without any cross-axis cinch
Double column tie: a single column tie which has been divided or cinched by a cross-axis rope, a secured cuff of rope which encircles 2 or more columns distinctly from each other by way of a cinch rope or kunuki
Rope burn/mark/bite: an impact impression left on the skin after contact with rope, either for an extended period of time or by way of a shearing force of rope against flesh. Rope marks differ in degree of presence and severity and take many visual forms such as depressed areas of the skin, red marks, purplura, and bruising. These marks should resolve in reasonable time after the responsible ropes are removed.
Examples:
Forward tension: a directional wrapping or tying movement in rope bondage which assembles each subsequent wrap by moving in the same direction as distinct from reversing tension at a friction point
Reverse tension: a directional wrapping or tying movement in rope bondage which assembles each subsequent wrap by reversing direction on a friction point
Bukashi/Rope Top/Rigger: one who gives or applies rope distinct from one who receives or is bound by rope aka the bunny
Ukete/Rope Bottom/Bunny: one who receives rope, one who is bound in rope in kinbaku distinct from the one who is tying or giving the rope aka the top
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W/c: 2.2k Pairing: Dom fem Reader x Sub P.Bateman Includes: PLEASE READ!!! Dubcon, very dominant reader, physical assault, blood play, blood drinking, scratching, degradation, riding, p in v, dacryphilia, choking/breath play, Patrick is into it but only slightly admits to it at the end, therapeutic sex? If that’s a thing? ‘I/My/Mine’ pronouns for reader.
A/n: First of all, always read tags, but I mean it this time! This is very intense but I had a LOT of fun writing it. I’ve read the book, and I can assure you he’s an insecure slut, and he’s so babygirl. Need I remind you, INTENSE. If you don’t like it don’t read it. That’s on you. No minors. Have fun~
My fist came down sharp across his face. I reveled in the electric contact stinging my knuckles as the hook of my arm drew away. What I savored even more was the pained, groggy gasp Bateman emitted, his head lolling to the side with the motion of my punch before snapping back, and his half-lidded eyes meeting my gleeful, anticipatory ones.
He made a movement like gritty biting to fix his jaw back into place, the grotesque crunch causing his expression to sour.
“I bet that hurts, doesn’t it?” I teased, loosening his tie with two fingers, curling them upwards suggestively with a coy smile. His face stayed stone cold and annoyed, but there was something behind his eyes. Like the poised stature of a scared rabbit preparing to dart off. The threat of adrenaline. It pulsated, alive and steady. I could stare into those eyes for hours. I could claw them out with the edges of my nails, ruining them.
Beauty is only that when it’s temporary. And Patrick is beautiful. With a swift tug, his tie was thrown somewhere far beyond my peripheral vision. Beyond my care.
“I’m pleasantly surprised you haven’t told or forced me to stop yet. Either you’re secretly into this or you have some insecurity about dignity…seeing what you can take,” I mused as I undid the buttons of his shirt meticulously, adding in a whisper, “whichever one it is, it’s absolutely pathetic. I find it adorable.”
The farther I got down, the more I could sense his restraints heightening. I couldn’t sense his breathing getting faster, nor as in feel it from where I was straddling him or hear it from where I was bent over his chest, but rather knew it. Call it intuition.
For my enjoyment, I didn’t undo the last button, I simply ripped it open, ruining some of the stitching in the process. Patrick yelped.
“You’re going to pay for that,” he hissed, more solemnly than with bite.
“Physically or financially? Because I don’t see you making any moves to get me off of you.”
“That was Versace.” He mumbled from somewhere low, and went silent again, save for a few small noises while I stripped the shirt off his arms and out from underneath him. I rewarded it with the same discarded fate of the tie into the abyss behind me.
I splayed my hands across his abdomen. So warm…so humanly warm. If I didn’t have any self-control I would slice him open from every vantage point I had. He is just so perfect.
“Maybe one of these days I’ll eat you alive,” I said, turning my attention towards removing his pants. He made a brief, inaudible high-pitched sound. It caused me to smile.
With a tug and a toss, I had him. He was as good as a cornered mouse. He looked like it, too, eyes boring into mine, alert and unsteady. I bared my hypothetical fangs at him in an open-lipped grin. His eyes darted away, off to the side as if in humiliation.
“You do maintain your physique quite well for me, Bateman.” I complimented, letting my eyes run wild around his almost exposed body, except for his silk boxers. Of course they were silk.
I removed my robe-the only thing I was wearing-while examining the man before me. This seemed to grab his interest, his own eyes making their journey across my flesh. I do have my own insecurities, as an unspoken custom to any person, but I relished the way Patrick looked at me. He was intimidated. What a pretty response.
I hoisted myself, in my straddle position, just a bit higher up his body so I was sitting on his abdomen. Just an inch or so closer to his face.
Without any warning, I punched him again, this time with my non-dominant hand. The bliss of it all consumed me again. The contact, the thrum of my veins and his, the sound, in all its harshness. I could’ve orgasmed right then and there. I suppressed a pleasured moan when Patrick coughed and whimpered. When his head returned to look at me again, I was ecstatic to see I had drawn blood in his mouth.
“Fu-uck…fuck!” He groaned. Maybe he bit down too hard on his tongue, maybe the clash of teeth caused one to loosen. Excitement coursed through me as I leaned down to kiss him, eager to figure out just how I had demolished the insides of his mouth.
It was open-lipped and I spent no foreplay before pushing my tongue in. For the first time that night, I moaned with a newfound wanton fervor. I tasted blood. His blood on my tongue. Even though my eyes were closed, I felt as if rolling them back into my head. As I drank in his flavor disguised in hurried kisses, I spent careful notice on the heartbeat deeper in my body. Need. Heat. Something beyond craving.
I desired to kiss him longer, to enjoy the blood I drew for myself, like wine from a vineyard, but my body demanded he be inside it.
The need almost hurt, I admit. I sat up, smiling down at him benevolently, and pushed back and over his groin. I can’t say I was surprised to feel he was desperately hard. I almost felt bad. I tsk-ed with pity. Teasingly.
“Fuck, Bateman, you’re hard,” I muttered, observing the obvious and licking my teeth for any remaining blood, like going in for seconds after a decadant meal. I palmed the intrusion through his clothes, biting my lip when he moaned. I wish I had a keener ear. I wanted to transcribe that onto a sheet of music. To play it for myself every night. Feeling each note under my fingers on the piano. Feeling his vocal chords.
I looked up at his expression, and decided I would’ve titled the music ‘ruin’, for his eyes sprang tears, blood pooled from his mouth, a vague bruise blossomed on the side of his face. Yes. He was ruined.
I cursed something holy and beautiful under my breath as I hooked my finger in the waistband, eyes glancing up to him to note his submissive expression. His cheeks were red. Flushed from my assault or the obvious situation at hand, I didn’t know, but I assumed both.
I pulled it down. Away. Off his ankles. And there he was, ready however I would take him.
I sucked in a harsh breath, either of my hands coming up and digging into the tissue of his thighs, my nails just barely piercing his flesh. Much to my enjoyment, he made a pained sob as I drew blood from one point where my fingernail was pressed just hard enough to do so. I grit my teeth to maintain some composure.
A small amount of blood coalesced under my right hand, where, as aforementioned, my fingers dug into his thighs. I grinded myself against his other leg to satiate me in the meanwhile as I bent down and licked the blood from his left one.
Y’know those conversation starters, that go something along the lines of ‘if you had to drink one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be’? I have a new answer, thanks to the events detailed. His blood was orgasmically fantastic in my mouth. It’s like it was made to go there. To be devoured by me. To take it for my own.
“Oh, fuck, Bateman,” I droned, lips shiny with his blood, a trickle down my chin. I sat up, and the sight before me was heavenly.
The slut was leaking precum. From me drinking his blood. And his face-Christ, his face-I can still see it when I close my eyes. Even more tears glimmered around his groggy eyes, drunk on me, blood from before still on his pretty lips. He was painfully red elsewhere, too. I felt self-gratified knowing he was likely agonizing over how hard he was. Fighting to not just cum without any contact whatsoever. That made me fucking throb, and I’m not embarrassed to say that.
Equanimity be damned. I practically threw any leftover poise I had behind me like I did his clothes.
I licked up the still bleeding wound on his thigh again, but I dragged my tongue up and onto his burning erection this time. He seized. Spasmed at the contact.
He moaned so despairingly I honestly can still hear it reverberating in my head. I, in turn, moaned as well. I kept moving my tongue, focusing on a vein I found, exploring its edges and curves. His precum went well with his blood, a good flavor combination I made a mental note to try again at a later time.
I needed our bodies close so badly. Together. To take him inside my body, permanently instating him as mine, and a physical part of me. So I sat back up, still straddling his leg, and hoisted both of mine over to lock him in place. I steadied my breath. I had appearances to maintain. I slid myself up, and finally, down.
He gasped. I gasped, too, but made an effort to suppress it. He felt…I don’t know if there’s really a word for it. Incredible will suffice.
“Is this what you wanted?” I asked, beginning to thrust up and down upon him.
“I-I-“ He replied, per say. His voice was battered and broken.
“Ugh, speak up,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes. Half from pleasure half from feigned frustration.
“Yea…yeah…” Patrick finally sighed. All vulnerable. Defenses crumbled. Mine to pillage and desecrate.
“Slut,” I chuckled, barely audible. I knew he heard it by the way he choked out a sob. That sparked in me a deviously brilliant idea.
Still with him inside me, I careened down just enough to wrap both my hands around his throat. With each thrust, I applied more and more pressure to my grip around his throat. Soon he sputtered and coughed, chest heaving as he tried to breathe through his bloodied nose. His eyes were off somewhere distant-like an animal looking at something not there. A ghost. Maybe it was the ghost of who he was before I ruined his facade, tore it down to pieces. Evaporating from his body as he fought for air. I moaned.
From this position, me leaning down, he hit a spot that felt just right. My knees felt weak upon their own accord.
He tried to grab my arms, as if making a move to pry them away. I wouldn’t be having that. I slid my thumbs down to the dip of his windpipe in a silent threat, and he instantly dropped his hands, making the correct and logical choice.
I toyed with him a little, abusing my power over him. I loosened my grasp on his neck completely, letting him get in one shaky, anguished gasp, and then clamped back down again. Upon doing so, he bucked his hips up, consequently getting deeper inside.
I laughed with joyous disbelief. “You-you like being choked? You’re getting off on it?” I guffawed in hilarity from the situation at hand. No pun intended. “What-is it…don’t tell me it’s gonna make you cum, now. That would be mortifying for you.”
“I-I’m-“ he writhed.
“I’m guessing that’s a yes.”
He shook his head meekly. That, or trembled.
“Well hold on, if you would be so kind. I’m get-fuck-I’m getting about there too, but…we wouldn’t want you to become all overstimulated, would we?” I broke out into a broader, toothy grin, “I don’t want you to get hurt, Bateman.”
He whined and whimpered, as if wounded. Which he was. I picked up my pace, managing to rub my clit on his groin every now and again, groaning each time I did so.
Finally. Now I was ready.
“Alright. Whatever. You can cum.” I muttered, syllables asunder, half to myself and half to him. I bared my teeth and growled lowly as I came, mentally releasing something spike-edged and dark in my mind that had been plaguing me for a while. Like admitting something deep to a therapist. I needed this like a salaryman a vacation. Throughout this, I didn’t stop, making Patrick follow rapidly, breathing with loud groans and short, pathetic wails when he came. I had a feeling this release meant something more to him, too. A letting go. Literally.
Eventually, I slowed and gently peeled my hands away from his throat. His inhales were deep and steady, exhales shaky. I pulled off and everything about him went limp, coping with the events. I chuckled inaudibly. I swung my legs off and over the bed, standing up and headed towards the bathroom. I heard no commotion from his room, and after cleaning myself off, I emerged to see him unmoved except for the rising and falling of his chest. I fetched my robe from its crumpled spot on the ground, lithely wrapping it back around me. I went to leave to the kitchen to grab myself a snack, but paused in the doorframe
“Water? Tea?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“Are you alive?”
He nodded.
“You’re sure?”
Nodding.
“Did you enjoy yourself?”
Very enthusiastic nodding.
I smiled to myself as I left to raid his fridge.
-
End
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If you made it this far you’re messed up and I love you and we should get married. Repost and comment if you feel inclined.
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SSR Malleus Draconia Dorm Uniform Personal Story: Part 1
"Briar Valley's own."
Part 1 (Part 2) (Part 3)
[Mirror Chamber]
Crowley: Now, the Dorm Leader meeting will come to order.
Crowley: Today's agenda begins with…
Lilia: Apologies! I'm terribly late!
Crowley: AAAH!!!!
Crowley: V-Vanrouge-kun… When did you slip into the Mirror Chamber? Don't startle me so!
Lilia: Ah, thousand pardons. It's only, Malleus has disappeared.
Lilia: While Silver and Sebek are currently out searching for him, for the time being, I will attend the meeting in his stead as the Vice Dorm Leader.
Crowley: Eh? …AH!
Crowley: NOW THAT YOU MENTION IT... DRACONIA-KUN ISN'T HERE!!
Lilia: …Did you all forget? About poor Malleus?
Kalim: S-Sorry… I totally thought someone else would let him know.
Leona: Hah. I ain't his babysitter, and why should we have to go so far as to say, "Oh, Malleus-kun, let's go to the meeting together."
Vil: You know, I've been thinking ever since I became a Dorm Leader this year…
Vil: Malleus isn't ever at these meetings, is he?
Idia: Yeah! I want to know about that too.
Idia: Even I'm forcing myself here remotely, even though I def don't wanna be here.
Idia: IT'S NOT FAIR THAT MALLEUS-SHI GETS TO SKIP ALL THE TIME! OBJECTION!
Azul: Indeed, these slights against us does not foster a good feeling.
Azul: He is continuously absent. On occasions where he actually does attend, he is constantly tardy. I can only assume that he thinks very little of this meeting.
Lilia: Malleus has no such intention. I know he must be hoping to participate in these meetings with you all.
Vil: All this lip service means nothing so long as no results follow.
Vil: Leona, Riddle. You must have indulged him a considerable amount last year to allow Malleus's despotic behavior to continue like this.
Leona: Us, indulge him? …You can say that because you don't know how much I had to deal with last year.
Riddle: Leona-senpai just dictated, but I was the one who really had to handle everything.
Riddle: In the beginning, the Dorm Leaders last year attempted to enact many a plan in order to have Malleus-senpai attend the meeting.
Riddle: We would send him several reminders via email, send physical letters, and even went directly to his dormitory…
Idia: Aaand how'd that go?
Leona: A total failure. That bastard doesn't check his email, and that bat over there kept losing the letters.
Leona: When we went to the dorm, those zealous draconians'd be on alert and wouldn't let anyone in.
Leona: It's the biggest pain I've ever had to deal with. Why does everyone else have to run around for him, instead of him workin' on it?
Riddle: Like I said earlier, the one running around was me… Ahem. Anyway, we did all we could.
Riddle: Everything else is up to Malleus-senpai.
Azul: So, essentially…The two of you gave up on Malleus-san.
Vil: Even Leona the slacker gets dragged here by Ruggie, and Idia the shut-in participates by way of his technology.
Vil: Do you truly believe it is appropriate that Malleus is constantly absent for these meetings in which we discuss important decisions for the school?
Vil: Perhaps it was acceptable up until now. However, I do not approve of his negligence.
Crowley: Hmm. It rather feels as though it will be difficult to continue this meeting amidst this uncomfortable climate…
Crowley: Vanrouge-kun, could we have you contact Draconia-kun and have him come here right away?
Lilia: I would love nothing more, but…
[beep!]
Smartphone Voice Assistant: The number you have dialed is either in a non-service area, or is not turned on, and therefore your call cannot be connected.
[beep!]
Lilia: …No matter how many times I call, I still cannot get through. It was working last night, though.
Lilia: It's most likely that he broke his phone today.
Crowley: Well, it can't be helped. I suppose we should all go out and search for him.
Leona: Hah? Why should we? He ain't a lost kid. Don't baby him.
Lilia: Sob, sob… What unfriendly folk…
Kalim: Hrrrm, if there was something I could do, I'd like to help out…
Azul: Kalim-san, this is not an issue that can be solved by simply "helping out."
Azul: Do we intend on starting every meeting with a search for Malleus-san? He must learn to better himself.
Lilia: Tch. Crocodile tears didn't work, huh…
Vil: There is no way that such a terrible performance would successfully deceive us. It seems both the Dorm Leader and Vice Dorm Leader both are just fooling around.
Leona: Kukuku. Maybe that guy's the least suited to be a Dorm Leader outta all of us, ey?
Idia: Is that kinda boss really gonna be ok? Makes me sooo worried for the future of Briar Valley.
Lilia: Hmph… What a thing to say towards the heir of the Draconia family.
Lilia: …Malleus's reputation will be tarnished at this rate.
Lilia: I understand. Malleus will attend the next meeting, I swear it.
Part 1 (Part 2) (Part 3)
Requested by @x0-luna-mix-0x, @sakurakudo, and @symphonyprincessuta
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Okay actual notes on the Arachnophilia poll results, I honestly thought it would be a bigger percentage split? But either way, I've done some workshopping and I have two options I wanna offer (This also won't impact how quickly chapters come out don't worry)
I would propose:
1. An in-canon situation where Mig is involved in a three-way encounter after some story build up
2. An AU extra chapter with less restrictions on contact for fan-service purposes
For the first, it would be Miguel gradually trying to improve his treatment and outlook on the two and eventually being giving a spur of the moment chance to recieve oral or to perform anal penetration after interupting another rut between Mig and reader, strictly under the pretense that it's to keep the peace and stop them all going goofy silly again (while also easing readers v severe heat). They talk about it first, Mig is reassured that reader is his emotionally and will respect his physical boundaries, and while he prohibits any emotional language or any vaginal penetration he does kind of get off on seeing his partner easily wield two powerful men for their needs.
For the second, in canon Miguel leaves them alone and finds relief elsewhere, which helps soothe things over (for the time being) BUT I would then just include a little spin-off AU bit where a similiar encounter to the above does happen and also has less restrictions since we can be more loosey-goosey with character stuff.
In short: I take this too seriously lmao, maybe it's silly but I value the character's I've written and the story and I also don't wanna make people uncofortable, so this felt right to do
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