#forgot i had a tag for this kind of thing honestly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

makoodles · 1 year

Text

ミ tìtunu

part one | part two | part three (nsfw) | part four (nsfw

🍓pairing: tsu'tey x human fem reader

🍓word count: 9k words (oops)

🍓warnings: alien courting rituals, misunderstandings, accidental sexy touching

yoooo i was not expecting people to like this ahhahahaha but thank you all so much for all your lovely excited comments! they've been so fun to read and honestly pushed me into writing this faster! pls forgive me if i forgot to tag you (i tried to include everyone that asked) 🍓 masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

Tsu’tey is beginning to wonder if he had received some irreparable damage to his head in the fall from the sky that had nearly killed him all those months ago. It’s the only explanation for what’s gone so terribly wrong with him.

After his failed first attempt at courting, you don’t come back to the village for a few days. It’s probably a good thing, Tsu’tey tries to convince himself; he needs to decide what it is he truly wants, and how far he’s willing to go to get it. But even though he tries to use the time to himself productively, he finds himself on edge and impatient.

His foul mood is clear to the whole village to see, and so it’s only a matter of time before someone confronts him about it.

It’s just his luck that the person who approaches him about it is Jakesully.

“So,” The new Olo’eyktan drawls as he sidles up to where Tsu’tey is watching a group of young warriors training with their longbows, “Word has it that you’ve chosen a mate.”

They may be brothers in arms and tentative friends, but that doesn’t mean that Tsu’tey is pleased to have him poking around his business. His ears flatten back in a wordless warning to back off, but Jakesully pays no heed to it.

The bastard is grinning, as though this is the most entertained he’s been in weeks. “Word has it that your chosen mate is human.”

“Do not speak on matters you do not understand.” Tsu’tey bares his teeth in a move that is bold at best, considering he is speaking to his clan chief.

But Jakesully just laughs, his stupid shoulders straightening. He has become so confident since becoming one of the people, and Tsu’tey envies him for it. He was sure of himself just like Jakesully once, but now it seems like all he does is doubt himself.

“Relax, brother.” Jakesully says casually, leaning on one leg as he follows Tsu’tey’s gaze out towards the young warriors. “You are too tense. How could she want someone so grumpy?”

Tsu’tey turns to him then, his tail coiled in a tense loop as he glares. “She is a demon.”

Jakesully just rolls his eyes. It's a gesture so human that it’s almost jarring. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that he is alien, just like you.

“Everyone sees the way you look at her.” Jakesully says, raising a brow at him. “It’s a different kind of scowl than you give everyone else.”

Tsu’tey doesn’t think that he scowls that much. He tries to force the frown off his face as he turns to look at Jakesully head on.

“It does not matter what you think you see,” He bites out, frustrated and on-edge with embarrassment. “She is tawtute. Sky demon. She does not see, cannot connect with the People or with Eywa.”

Jakesully is nodding, but he still has that infuriating smirk curling around his mouth that suggests he understands Tsu’tey’s feelings better than Tsu’tey himself does.

“That hasn’t stopped you so far, has it?” He points out with a faux-innocent tone that is utterly unconvincing. “I mean, you certainly seem happier to show her around and explain things to her than you ever were with me.”

“That is because she listens, Jakesully.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jakesully waves this away as if it’s inconsequential, before his expression shifts.

The next look he levels at Tsu’tey is uncomfortably sober.

“Look. I know that you’ve been having a hard time since...” He trails off, and his eyes dart down towards the harsh, ugly scars that cover Tsu’tey’s torso from where the brutal human weapons called bullets had nearly torn him apart. “Look, who cares what anyone else thinks? The People are still wary of the humans left over, but they’re looking to you as an example on how they should act. You could set a precedent here.”

Tsu’tey clenches his jaw as he stares out at the warriors. Instead of answering, he shouts out to one of the younglings near the edge of their makeshift firing range. “Netu’li, keep your elbows up.”

Netu’li fixes his posture, and the next arrow he looses hits home in a perfect bullseye. Tsu’tey nods in satisfaction.

Jakesully is still staring at the side of his face, and Tsu’tey realises that there is no way for him to escape this conversation. He takes a breath, and tries to ignore the resentful embarrassment coiling in his belly.

“She did not accept my advances.” He mutters, his ears flattened against his skull.

Irritatingly, Jakesully doesn’t seem bothered by this in the slightest.

“Oh yeah?” He drawls. “Hm. Well, I never thought you’d give up so easily. I’m surprised.”

Tsu’tey flicks a quick glance his way. What a ridiculous, painfully transparent attempt at goading him into admitting the interest he’s been trying to deny. The worst part is that it might actually be working.

“I did not say I was giving up.” Tsu’tey says sharply, well aware that he’s playing right into Jakesully’s hands right now. “I am just… I am thinking.”

Jakesully raises his stupid eyebrows, but Tsu’tey is studiously avoiding looking at him now. This whole situation was mortifying enough when it was all going unsaid; now that it’s being discussed, Tsu’tey feels like climbing inside of a yomioang plant and never coming out.

“Well,” Jakesully sounds smug, which should be a warning in itself, “You’d better do some thinking quickly, because I believe that’s her coming now.”

Tsu’tey straightens quickly, and tosses a look over his shoulder. Sure enough, your familiar figure is standing awkwardly by the treeline. It seems as though you’re reluctant to step further into the village; you’re fidgeting with your fingers, eyes darting around until they finally find him.

Something in his lower belly leaps, and he finds himself taking a sharp inhale through his nose at the sight of you. It’s been days since he’s last seen you, and he had been beginning to wonder if you would ever seek him out again. The sight of you here is a ridiculous sort of relief, one that he doesn’t even want to fully think about. Even better is the fact that you look alright, you look healthy. It doesn’t seem as though he’s done lasting damage to you with the meat.

You smile at him, and even from across the village he feels his heart thump against his ribcage. Perhaps you don’t hate him after all.

Aware of your eyes on him, Tsu’tey hefts his longbow from his back and shoots an arrow. It flies straight through the target, and hits it with a heavy, satisfying thump.

Jakesully just laughs. “Wow. Impressive.”

“Be silent.” Tsu’tey grumbles, his tail coiled tightly around his leg. He is anxious in a way that is entirely unbefitting of a warrior, and he resents you for being the cause of it. “I do not wish to speak to her.”

“Oh, come on!” Jakesully tilts his head back, shaking his head as though Tsu’tey is nothing but a child. “I thought we just talked through this!”

Tsu’tey ignores him. He can feel your gaze on his back like a weight, and though he stands straight and tall he cannot bring himself to turn around and meet your eyes. It’s all too much – even from across the camp your presence needles at him, and he hasn’t even decided on what he’s going to do just yet.

Jakesully’s eyes on the side of Tsu’tey’s face don’t help very much either. “Where’s all your confidence from the other night gone, when you practically declared what you wanted in front of the whole clan?”

Tsu’tey’s tail lashes restlessly. That had been a moment of pure madness. “It was rash of me.”

Jakesully just makes a face. “Whatever. Look, if the People could accept a skxawng like me as Olo’eyktan, why wouldn’t they accept your interest in a human mate? They respect you; they’ll respect your choices.”

It’s a reasonable point, but Tsu’tey remains stubbornly silent. It rankles, the way that Jakesully is trying to insert himself into his business. Tsu’tey’s thoughts and feelings about you are confused and conflicted, but they’re private. The way Jakesully speaks about you as though he knows you makes Tsu’tey’s skin prickle.

“I must think on it.” Tsu’tey says at last. It’s a weak response, but he just wants to buy himself some time.

Perhaps Jakesully is right. Tsu’tey has always been strong-willed and stubborn, and has always known exactly what he wanted. Now though, he's floundering. Now he doesn’t know what he wants, and he’s casting about desperately in the hopes that someone will advise him on what to do. After having his life and expectations so soundly upended, he just wants to make his clan proud. He wants their approval, but Jakesully is right – when has he ever given up on anything just because it posed a challenge?

“Fine.” Jakesully says, jarring Tsu’tey from his thoughts. He had nearly forgotten the Olo’eyktan was still there, and it’s unnerving to realise that he’s being watched with a smug sort of smirk. “I’ll keep her company for today, then. Considering you need your space.”

Tsu’tey’s jaw clenches hard but he does not protest. He can’t, not after making such a big deal out of not wishing to speak to you today. His pride is hurt, and all he can do is double-down on his position. Besides, Jakesully is mated to Neytiri, and Tsu’tey knows that he would rather die than stray from her.

That doesn’t stop him from turning his head as Jakesully leaves his side, watching with sharp eyes as the Olo’eyktan approaches you. Even from this distance, he can see the little smile on your face through your mask as you tilt your head up towards him. The sight of it causes something to curdle in his low belly.

That should be him on the receiving end of your sweet little smile. It’s a selfish thought, but one that he can’t quite shake off. The sense of possessiveness surprises even him, and he watches with narrowed eyes as Jakesully leans down to say something to you.

When Jakesully’s stupid five-fingered hand touches upon your shoulder to lead you away to somewhere else within the camp, Tsu’tey feels his tail whip around his ankles in aggravation.

I will try again, He thinks wildly as he turns back around to stare unseeingly at the practicing warriors in front of him. And this time I will not fail to impress.

Now that Tsu’tey has reached the decision to court you (officially), there is much to be prepared. He has never been one to take half-measures, and initiating a courtship is certainly no exception. You may not be Na’vi, but he will court you with all the respect and courtesy as he would if you were one of the People.

Part of him wonders if his decision is written across his face somehow, because the People of the village seem to know. When he begins searching for materials to make an official courting gift for you, he begins getting help from unexpected places.

Some of the children have started leaving pieces of twine and plant fibre in his treehut, and he is pleased to find that it is of good enough quality to begin weaving immediately. The old woman, A’nayla, who is the best at carving beads in the whole village, slaps his hands away impatiently when he attempts to pick out a number of beads for your gift. She directs him instead to some of her shiniest and most vibrant beads, and refuses to make any trades. A gift, she had insisted, her old face crinkling in a knowing smile as she had waved him away.

He feels supported, even more so when Neytiri visits him in his treehut one evening after dinner. It has been a few days since you visited the encampment, but Tsu’tey is determined to have everything in good order before he approaches you in earnest.

When Neytiri enters the small hut he had built in the trees when they first settled in this encampment, she takes a moment to peer around with a neutral expression.

Tsu’tey has been sitting on the woven mat in the middle of the room, but he looks up and waits for his old friend to speak.

“My Jake has told me about your intentions with the tawtute.” She says after a long moment, stepping forward and sinking down to sit in front of him with her legs crossed. “Many people speak of it in the village.”

Tsu’tey’s ear twitches at that, embarrassed, but he just focuses back on his weaving. There’s no point denying it; he does not plan on hiding it for much longer, anyway.

“Yes.” He says simply. “My first attempt was… not successful.”

Neytiri hums. He thinks he can hear an undercurrent of amusement. “Yes. I saw.”

His ears flatten in earnest at that. He had hoped that no one had witnessed that particular humiliation, but that’s no matter. People will soon forget, and he will soon have you distracted with his second (and surely more successful) attempt.

Her eyes fall on the half-finished woven piece in his hands, and she eyes it carefully. “That is too big. She is small, remember.”

“Of course I remember.” He snaps, before raising the half-finished jewelry to his face and squinting at it. “You think it will not fit?”

“Give me.” Neytiri demands, and stretches out her hand.

Tsu’tey passes it without complaint. They have known each other since birth, certainly long enough to forgo any passing formalities and niceties. He trusts Neytiri with his life, his best-friend and once-potential-mate, and he finds himself waiting with his tail curled protectively beside him as he awaits her judgment; not only on his half-finished gift, but also on his choice of a mate.

“This decision I have made,” He says suddenly. “To court the sky demon. It is madness, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Neytiri speaks with hardly a hesitation, though she doesn’t raise her eyes from his weaving. She starts picking out a loop where he had made a mistake, and begins reweaving it with deft fingers. “But I will not be the one to judge you for that.”

“And Mo’at?”

“She thinks you are a skxawng.” Neytiri says easily, “But she loves you like a son.” The next look she darts at him is quick and sharp out of the corner of her eye. “Out of everyone in the village, your heart was the most firmly closed against the Sky People. Does that not make it all the more meaningful, that you have chosen a sky person as your mate?”

Tsu’tey is silent. He used to think that he knew exactly how his life was going to work out; he would be Olo’eyktan, he would mate with his first love Sylwanin, they would be happy and prosperous and strong together. But that future evaporated like mist before his eyes; not all at once, but gradually, until he could barely see the vapours. His reality is very different now; he clings almost desperately to the idea of you. There have been many people that Tsu’tey has not been strong enough to protect, but you are so small and soft – you need protecting more than anyone he’s ever known, and he’s determined not to let you down.

“She will accept,” Tsu’tey murmurs, before casting an uncertain glance in Neytiri’s direction. “Do you think so?”

“I see her look at you.” Neytiri murmurs back, her mouth curving. “She will accept.”

That brings a rush of relief so sudden and unexpected that Tsu’tey feels it like a physical blow. He keeps his head bowed in the hopes that it will not be so obvious, and hums absently as though he’s only half listening. It’s not enough to convince Neytiri, but he hopes that it works to recoup at least some of his pride.

“You have redecorated.” Neytiri comments, though her eyes stay focused on fixing the small section of the necklace that Tsu’tey had messed up. “Your kelku is inviting.”

That pleases Tsu’tey, and he sits up straighter. Decorating has never been a strong suit of his, and it presented more of a challenge than he had initially anticipated to decorate in such a way that it would appeal to a human. He knows you are very interested in the plants of his planet, considering the amount of time you spend studying them, so he has effectively cushioned the rough wooden walls and floors with softer wide leaves. From the ceiling hangs intense blue eanean flowers and hippophae leaves, lending a soft phosphorescent glow to the small space.

“Humans are weak,” Tsu’tey grunts. “Soft bones, fragile skin. She needs soft surroundings, too.”

Neytiri hums her agreement, before finally lifting her head. In her hands, the knot in the half-finished necklace has been unpicked and resolved. She hands it back, and Tsu’tey takes it cautiously into his hands before peering carefully at her work. Her hands are far more practiced in the art of weaving than his; she has done a wonderful job.

“Thank you.” He says quietly. He is appreciative on several levels; for her weaving, for her company, for her support.

She seems to pick up on what he isn’t saying, as usual. “You should approach her again soon. My Jake says that she is sad – she thinks she has upset you, and that you are angry with her.”

Tsu’tey raises his head sharply at that. He’s not sure if he’s more displeased at the idea that you are upset or the fact that you have apparently been confiding in Jakesully. It is difficult to push past the feeling that you should be confiding in him, that he should be the person offering you comfort. But how could you approach him when he was part of the problem?

“I will find her tomorrow.” He decides. The thought of him losing his chance is sickening – he can’t afford to wait until everything is perfectly prepared. He will just have to do his best with what he’s got so far.

Neytiri grins at him, her lips peeling back of her teeth in a way that is both joyful and intimidating.

“Sìltsan tìtaron.” She says, and Tsu’tey finds himself grinning back without conscious thought.

It is a customary saying in their tribe, used for both chasing prey and courting mates. Good hunting.

When the next day dawns, Tsu’tey curses himself for feeling nervous.

The last time he felt this way was the night before his iknimaya, when he was a fledgling warrior. Even then, he was so confident, his ego inflated by the simple fact that he had never experienced a loss before.

This time is different. He finds himself anxious in a way that he is utterly unused to experiencing, and it makes him bare his teeth in frustration as he bounds down from his treehut into the village properly. It is already a hive of activity, and the familiar buzz of conversation and laughter eases some of the tension out of his shoulders.

He will take this slow, he’s already decided. Slow and careful.

The thought of you refusing him is something that he can’t bring himself to consider; he needs to show you that he is strong, that he is thoughtful and caring, that he can provide for you and keep you safe and make you happy. He has to convince you that there is no one who can care for you better than he can.

Finding you is easy enough; the human scientists that have remained on the planet follow a routine, and you are no different. Besides, as some of the children in the village tell him, you have been lingering close to the village for days now. Ostensibly you are studying the plantlife, but Tsu’tey knows that you have likely been waiting to catch a glimpse of him. The realisation has a hollow feeling of guilt gnawing at his stomach, but he tries to push it aside – he will apologise soon.

He finds you in the forest, only a little while outside of the village. You are not alone; as is standard procedure, you are accompanied by three other scientists and a dreamwalker.

Norm is as awkward as ever in his Avatar state, discussing whatever he is reading from his demon technology with wide eager eyes. Tsu’tey is familiar with Norm now, mostly against his will – Jakesully is fond of the scientist, and he has been invited to take part in village life on several occasions. Tsu’tey will begrudgingly admit that the dreamwalker is respectful of Na’vi life and culture and he has come to accept his presence both on his planet and around his people, but seeing him around you is making him fidgety.

One of the scientists is armed (and the sight of the gun makes his skin itch from the memory of bullets tearing flesh) and Norm is at least Na’vi-sized, but that is the extent of the protection they have brought. Tsu’tey’s fingers twitch. It is not enough. You are so small and fragile, entirely unsuited for his world. Don’t you know that? Don’t you know how dangerous it is to be out here like this with so little to protect you?

You’re so preoccupied with the helicoradian you’re studying that you don’t seem to notice anything else around you. Your head is bowed, your eyes bright and shiny with interest as you inspect the orange pigment dusting the leaves.

The dappled light that filters through the trees casts shadowy patterns across your face in a way that is nearly mesmerising, and he ends up staring at you for a longer moment than he had originally intended. You are strange-looking and alien to him, and yet his fingers itch with the desire to touch you.

Tsu’tey leaps from the branch he had been watching you from, and lands neatly on the balls of his feet. His movements are nearly soundless, and none of the humans raise their heads. They don’t seem to sense his appearance at all.

His brow furrows in dissatisfaction. Anything could creep up on you, and you would not see it coming until it was too late.

He reaches out one leg and steps purposely on a twig. The snap is resounding, and the man with the gun whirls around and hoists the weapon higher, aiming at Tsu’tey’s chest.

He just bares his teeth in warning.

“No!” You yelp, throwing your hands up as soon as you realise what’s happening. “Don’t shoot him!”

Despite the situation, he’s sure that he looks quite smug. It feels good to experience you standing up for him, even if he doesn’t really need it – he could knock this puny little gun-toting tawtute into the dirt with a single backhand if he wished, though he refrains. He’s trying to be on his best behaviour.

“Fuck!” The little man yells, clearly spooked. “What does he want?”

That makes you falter, and you look up at him with uncertainty. It seems like you’re waiting for an explanation as well. All of the scientists are silent are apprehensive, eyeing him cautiously as they wait to see what he’s going to do. Their eyes linger around the knife strapped to his waist and the longbow strung over his shoulders.

Norm is looking at him with raised eyebrows, his ears perked up. Judging by his expression, Tsu’tey assumes that Norm has guessed exactly what he’s doing here.

“I wish to speak with you,” He tells you in Na’vi – he knows that some of the other scientists will be able to interpret his words, but it brings an illusion of privacy all the same.

You blink, but hesitate. When you don’t agree immediately, Tsu’tey feels his ears pin back. Your uncertainty is surely a bad sign for him – has he misjudged how upset you were?

He turns to the other humans and narrows his eyes at them. “Leave.”

They burst into motion satisfyingly quickly. The moron with the gun looks as though he is about to start arguing, but Norm hooks the long fingers of his demon body into the back of his collar and tugs him away. For once, the scientist is not being a nuisance.

You’re still standing there, turning to stare in apparent bewilderment at your comrades, who are practically fleeing. “What-”

“Come.” Tsu’tey says. Now that it’s just the two of you, he loses some of the edge in his voice.

When he turns away and begins to lead you into the forest, you follow after him without complaint. Out of the corner of his eye, Tsu’tey can see you twisting your hands nervously. Your clear anxiety has him frowning – he wants you to be comfortable with him, not on edge.

Once he’s determined that you’re both far enough away from the other humans that they could not hear you, he turns to you. You’re already looking at him, fingers twisting as you bite at your lip.

Calm and steady, Tsu’tey thinks to himself. Just apologise for ignoring her.

Apologising does not come easy to him, but he rolls his shoulder and takes a breath before opening his mouth.

“I’m sorry!” You blurt before he can make even a sound.

That throws him, and he ends up staring at you with his mouth ajar for a long moment like an absolute moron. Why are you apologising? This isn’t how this was supposed to go.

“I didn’t mean to get sick,” You continue, a little desperately, “I really did appreciate your hunting, it was very impressive and the meat was very nice, I swear I didn’t mean to come across as ungrateful-”

Oh no, are those tears he sees shining in your eyes?

Tsu’tey feels as though he’s been frozen in place. He knows that his face is stuck in a confused scowl, but he can’t soften his expression no matter how hard he tries. Panic starts to curdle in his stomach. He may be a seasoned warrior, fearless in the face of fearsome opponents, but he finds himself at a total loss in this situation.

You just keep going – his silence seems to be making you even more upset. “I never meant to offend you, and I’m so, so sorry if I have. I never meant to make you angry-”

Finally, Tsu’tey manages to find his voice. “I am not angry.”

Even he has to admit that he doesn’t sound particularly convincing, but he’s never been an eloquent person. How does he explain that he’s not angry at you, he’s frustrated with himself? Right now, with you staring up at him with your eyelashes all wet and clumped together as your lower lip trembles, he feels like kicking his own ass.

He needs to make his move now, he realises wildly. Be conciliatory, he thinks. Let her know you are interested.

His voice sticks in his throat, but he manages to push the words out. They come out slightly strangled, but semi-confident all the same.

“Would you like to come fishing?”

You hesitate, and Tsu’tey feels his heart seize in his chest – you’re not going to turn him down, are you?

“Would I-” You begin, face crumpling. “What?”

Despite all the similarities in your bodies and faces, Tsu’tey finds himself floundering when it comes to reading your expressions. Is that disappointment? Confusion? Anger? It’s so difficult to tell with your tiny blunt ears and lack of a tail.

“Fishing.” He repeats. His own tail lashes restlessly, the only part of his body that moves at all. “Come and watch me fish.”

It doesn’t come out quite as smoothly as he had planned in his head the night before, sounding a little more like an order than an invitation, but Tsu’tey thinks it’s a victory just to get the words out at all.

You look a little lost, but you nod all the same. Your tears are blinked away, your expression smoothing a little. Is Tsu’tey imagining it, or do you look hopeful?

“I- alright.” You swallow, and your hands reach up to tug at your hair in what appears to be a compulsive sort of movement. “Yes. Fishing. Right.”

Tsu’tey barely stifles his reaction. A success. He can’t stop his ears from pricking up, but otherwise he tries to appear neutral – he doesn’t want to scare you off.

“Come then.”

Just like before, you follow him readily through the jungle. He is careful to keep his back to you – it is a display of trust, to show off his conviction that you will do him no harm. It is mostly symbolic in your case, considering that you are unlikely to cause him any real harm even if you wanted to, but he is determined to carry out these courting rituals correctly even if the rest of this courtship is unconventional.

His ears are pricked the whole time for signs of danger or any other signs of life approaching, and to ensure that you are close behind as the two of you make your way towards the river winding towards the Omaticaya stronghold.

“You don’t have a fishing rod.” You say when you both finally reach the river.

Tsu’tey has no idea what you’re talking about, but it sounds as though you’re doubting his ability to fish.

He frowns, turning to squint at you – is this a challenge? Do you require him to prove his prowess right away? Displays of physical prowess and skill are part of the courting process, but he had thought that he had already done that with the hunt you had witnessed. But then again, the meat from the prey of that particular hunt had made you sick – perhaps you had decided not to count that hunt as an official courting display.

You stare back at him, looking perfectly innocent, if a little confused.

Fine. Tsu’tey straightens his back, and pulls his bow from his back. If it’s a display of prowess that you want, that’s what you’ll get.

In one smooth movement, he draws, nocks, and looses an arrow. It lands true, hitting home in the sleek, smooth body of a large fish that has just darted out from behind a stone lodged in the riverbank.

You let out a startled sort of sound, but lean forward quickly as Tsu’tey strides into the water and reaches for his catch. He had been planning on drawing this fishing display out a little longer, but it seems that you’re a demanding little thing. He doesn’t mind that; if anything, it will make satisfying you all the more exciting.

He retrieves his catch and holds it up for you to see. The fish is a large one, and it glints in the sweet sunshine that streams through the canopy of trees above you. It is a catch to be proud of, but he is careful not to be too pleased with himself until you react.

You laugh at the sight of the smooth glinting silver surface of his catch, clapping your hands together.

“Oh!” You call out, and you sound delighted. “Amazing! You make it look so easy!”

The praise sends a pleasant warmth effusing through his chest, and he feels a slow, hesitant grin begin to spread across his face.

“I am good at providing.” He tells you earnestly, stepping forward. He snaps off the long shaft of the arrow before proffering the fish towards you for your inspection.

You glance down, still smiling, but you don’t look particularly closely at his catch. That dulls some of his satisfaction – he glances down at the fish himself, wondering if there was something about it you found lacking.

“I know.” You murmur, tilting your head as you gaze up at him with lidded eyes. “You’re strong.”

His ears twitch like a child’s, and he nods, pleased. Hearing those words coming from the person he has chosen as a prospective mate fills him with a type of excitement that he has never experienced before. As a tawtute, you cannot connect with Eywa or with the People; but in this moment, Tsu’tey feels as though you see him anyway.

He swallows, and sets his catch aside in the pouch at his waist. He feels flustered in a way that is entirely unlike him, and he has to push his reactions down deep. He doesn’t want you to think of him as a silly little youngling – he wants you to see that he has taken this decision to court you seriously.

Time for the next step.

“We are close to an area where the Tsahìk gathers her herbs for medicine,” He says, clearing his throat as he turns to look at you with wide, earnest eyes. “I have offered to collect some for her. Would you like to help?”

Plants have always fascinated you – he knows that the original reason that you came to his planet was to study the wildlife and the flora. He waits, hoping that he’s right in thinking that this is something you will enjoy.

Your strange, sweet little face brightens. “Really?”

Tsu’tey nods, relieved by your reaction. “You would like this?”

“Yes!” You breathe. For the first time since he had approached you, you relax in earnest and Tsu’tey finds himself mirroring you.

He reaches out and cups your elbow as he helps you step over a log, and he doesn’t miss the little shiver and quick glance that you send towards his hand where it’s wrapped around your arm. It seems like you’re just as taken with the size difference between you as he is, and his lips begin to curl in excitement at the realisation.

This is good, He thinks, biting at the inside of his cheek. He is very slow to remove his hand, and you make no move to shake him off. Very good.

Tsu’tey does not want to speak too soon, but he feels as though his courting attempts are going very well indeed.

You had loved gathering the medicinal herbs with him, even more than he had hoped – you had badgered him with questions, curious about the names of the plants and their properties and their appearances, and you had bounded along at his side with a bright grin the whole time. It had pleased him greatly to experience your interest in the ways of the Omaticaya and the life of his planet; it was proof that you could be taught, that you were willing to learn.

And most thrillingly of all, you were receptive to his advances. Over the next couple of days, he continues with his cautious attempts at approaching you with little gestures.

When he gives you flowers and pretty leaves, you take them with brilliant, near-blinding smiles. Every time he shows off by flexing or practicing wrestling with the other warriors, you watch with interested eyes and tiny smiles. Whenever he tentatively touches you, small brushes to your shoulders or hands or waist, you never flinch away – on several occasions, you lean into him.

He tries not to let it go to his head, but it’s difficult. Since he’s started to admit his urges and his attraction to you, he swears it’s gotten worse. It feels like all he thinks about is you. He’s distracted during training, during his duties, during meals. He thinks about your reactions to his offerings, to your smiles, your scent, your voice. It really does feel like an illness, but it’s one he’s beginning to come to terms with if it means having you close by.

It’s beginning to get more difficult to keep his hands to himself. Traditionally, at this point in a courtship it would be acceptable for a courting pair to exchange flirtatious touches and other little intimacies, but Tsu’tey is aware that this is not exactly a conventional courtship.

He’s trying to be careful, to avoid spooking you or making you uncomfortable or uneasy, but it’s beginning to wear on him. Though he’s getting bolder with his little touches, it’s not enough to quench the skin-hunger growing in him.

But no matter. The courtship is going well, and moving at a good pace. The next step is one of the most important ones.

His carefully woven courtship necklace has been completed. It is customary to present a potential mate with a statement piece of jewelry, and Tsu’tey has spent several late nights fussing over the finishing touches. He recognises on some level that he’s stalling; it’s not in his nature to be nervous, but he’s beginning to grow nearly obsessive about getting the necklace as perfect as possible. It has been crafted to fit you exactly, with fibres and beads selected by him personally based on what he thinks you would like and what he thinks would suit your features.

The finished product is eye-catching, and Tsu’tey feels nearly delirious at the thought of it decorating your neck.

He crushes any semblance of nerves as best as he can, just like he might have done before a big hunt.

Of course you will accept his mating advances. Why wouldn't you? He is a strong warrior, a protector, desired by a great number of women. He could likely pick any woman he wanted out of the available women in the clan, and they would be honoured. Why would you be any different? You may be difficult to read at times, but he has laid his intentions out loud and clear and you have not shied away. You would accept him.

His mating necklace for you feels like it’s weighing him down as he steps through the village. It’s tucked safely into the pouch at his waist, though his hand keeps drifting to his hip to check that it’s still there. He’s not unaware of the looks he gets as he makes his way towards the edge of the encampment, but he ignores them. No doubt many of his people have guessed at what he’s up to, but he can’t give them his attention right now; he’s too focused on you, now that he spots you sitting next to one of the large pxiut trees.

Your head is bowed over your silly little notebook, lost entirely in your own world. Tsu’tey’s steps slow as he approaches you, taking the opportunity to drink in the sight of you while you’re unaware of his gaze.

His eyes track over the curves of your strange features, the slope of your alien nose, the arch of your neck. Your features may be exotic, but he’s finally beginning to admit to himself what he’s been trying to deny for a while now – you’re attractive to him.

He likes your weird little face, your odd five-fingered hands, your thick silly accent when you speak his language. He likes that you are so much smaller than him, he likes that you are soft.

He appreciates that you are patient with him, too. He knows he can be gruff and surly, and most people find him off-putting or intimidating, especially when they don’t know him. But you – you’re so calm and sweet, and you never seem to care when he’s stoically silent beside you. Most of the time when he’s around you, most of his brain-power goes into trying to keep his hands to himself, and he doesn’t have much intellectual power left to attempt conversation. He’s content with simply listening to you about whatever it is you wish to talk about, occasionally chiming in to ask a question or just to hum gently to show you he’s listening.

As he watches, you shift where you’re sitting and reach up to scratch absently at your neck. Beneath your odd human garments, your skin is glowing lightly with a thin sheen of sweat. Tsu’tey finds his eyes tracking over your exposed skin like a moron, and he clenches his jaw as he pulls himself together.

You're a warrior, you're a warrior, you’re a warrior, he chants in his head. He would not be cowed or intimidated by a tiny human.

You raise your head as he approaches, and a smile unfolds across your face. Your expression is bright, full of pure innocent happiness just to see him. He wavers, and nearly turns right back around.

“Hey, big guy.” You call out, setting your notebook aside as you beam at him.

You’re waiting for him to join you, he realises. He jolts forward, his previously confident stride turning a little jerky under your sharp eyes.

“Hello, little demon.” He murmurs, keeping his voice low and level.

You bite at your lip, still watching him with that little smile on your face. He watches you back just as closely, even as he sinks down to sit next with you. Your smile melts into a little look of surprise; usually, when he comes to you it’s so he can invite you somewhere else, either to show you something or to give you something. Joining you as you just sit is new for both of you.

For a moment, you’re both quiet. It seems like you’re waiting on him to speak, but he stays silent. He’s trying to compose himself, to appear cool and calm as he reaches his hand towards the woven bag slung around his waist.

Finally, he says, “I have something for you.”

It comes out impressively calm and level. While he’s not a man prone to nerves or to doubting himself, this is entirely new territory for him. When your expression brightens into a look of excitement, he feels a new little seed of confidence build in his chest. You’re anticipating his gift, you want it.

When he slips his hand into his bag, you sit up onto your knees so that you can watch him. Over the last few weeks, you’ve gotten used to receiving little flowers, plants, beads, or little carved figures. You accept each one with your usual brilliant, sweet smile; the thought of how you may smile at him when he gives you the necklace makes Tsu’tey’s tail flick eagerly.

He pulls it carefully out and hands it to you. As you take it your fingers brush his, and he twitches slightly as he stares at how small your hands are next to his.

“Oh,” You breathe, lifting up the necklace to eye level so you can get a good look at it. “I… Really? For me?”

“Yes.” He says simply, his eyes sharp and alert as they drink in every minute flicker that crosses your face. What are you thinking?

“It…” You begin, and then pause. Tsu’tey is just beginning to feel like crawling out of his skin when you slowly continue. “Tsu’tey, it’s beautiful.”

You so rarely say his name, choosing instead to call him variations of big guy, and he feels a near physical jolt run down his spine at the sound of it in your mouth. He wants to hear you say it again.

He just hums, still watching your face. You are examining the necklace intently, fingering the beads and the weavework, and he feels his pride inflate the longer you inspect his work. You are giving real, earnest thought to his offering rather than simply making your decision rashly. He respects this, and revels under the careful consideration you’re giving his proposal.

“You like it?” He murmurs. His voice comes out rougher than he had intended, and you jerk your head up to look at him.

Like this, your faces are very close together. Tsu’tey had leaned closer unconsciously as you were examining the necklace, and he makes no attempt to back off. Likewise, you make no attempt to retreat either, blinking up at him from behind the odd clear surface of your bubble-like mask.

“Yes,” You whisper, a shy, cautious smile beginning to bloom across your face. “Did you make this yourself?”

Tsu’tey just huffs. What sort of fool wouldn’t make their mating offering themselves?

“Of course.”

“Oh.” You bite at your lip. You seem to be trying to suppress your smile, though he can’t imagine why. He wants to see it, now more than ever.

You are certainly not racing to give him an answer. Your fingers trace over the beads, taking your time to admire the craftsmanship. Your obvious appreciation is certainly inflating his ego, but the longer you go without giving him a firm answer, the more agitated he gets. He hides it as best as he can, aiming to appear cool and unflappable. He is a warrior – he doesn’t want you to think of him as someone who is easily ruffled.

When you finally turn to look up at him, your eyes are shining. He can’t help but sit up a little straighter, watching you very carefully as he awaits your decision.

You proffer the necklace back to him, and Tsu’tey feels his stomach positively plummet. He truly hadn’t considered what he would do if you refused him.

“Will you help me put it on?” You ask, a little shyly.

The relief nearly bowls him over. Tsu’tey swears his stomach jolts so violently that he nearly makes a truly undignified sound. You are not refusing him – you wish for assistance.

“Yes.” He says lowly and seriously, taking the necklace back.

You beam again, then turn your back to him and bow your head to give him access to your neck. Tsu’tey’s heart thumps dully in his chest at the display of trust and vulnerability, though he keeps his face carefully still.

As he reaches out and slips the necklace around your neck, he gives in to his weakness and allows his fingers to drift over your shoulder. Your skin is so soft, your frame lacking the lean hard musculature that is so common among his own people, and he allows himself a moment to admire the feeling of you beneath his hands before finally beginning to tie the two ends of the necklace together.

He can feel you breathing carefully beneath his hands, the steady rise and fall of your chest matching the thumping rhythm of his own heart. The blood is rushing through his ears as his knuckles brush over one of the knobs of your spine at the base of your neck and you shiver in response.

Success, his instincts are screaming at him. Success.

When he finally pulls his hands back, you turn to look at him through your eyelashes behind your breathing mask. The corner of his mouth twitches as he eyes the way the necklace sits above your collarbones; a perfect fit.

It probably goes without saying that you have accepted his advances, but the customs of the Sky People are odd and he wants to make certain.

“You accept, then?” He asks, reaching out and settling his fingers over the woven fibres of the necklace. You’re small under his hand – his fingers reach one of your shoulders and his palm reaches the other, dwarfing you.

Your head tilts, a little frown creasing your brow, before you smile and nod. “Of course I accept it. It’s very lovely. I’m honoured. I didn’t know that you made your own jewelry.”

The last piece of mating jewelry he had crafted had been a bracelet for Sylwanin. It’s not something that he wants to think about right now, so he shrugs roughly.

“I do not, usually. This is different.”

“Oh.” You say, a little breathlessly.

Tsu’tey’s tail twitches recklessly. It’s time for the next step.

“I would take you to my hut.” He begins cautiously, watching your face. “It is finished now. I have made it comfortable.”

You blink, and take a careful breath. He wonders what you’re thinking.

“I would like that.” You say quietly, your eyes drifting towards his tail, which is twitching as he awaits your answer.

Triumph soars in his chest, and a slow smile begins to spread over his face. This feels better than any hunt, any accolade, any success he has previously enjoyed. This one is his and his alone – you see him, you want to be his just as he wants to be yours.

You appear to get flustered, and look down at his twitching tail in an apparent effort to distract yourself. You watch the movement, your own lips beginning to curve, before you reach out to touch it.

Tsu’tey goes entirely still, his eyes flaring wider in surprise. He doesn’t pull away, watching intently as your fingers trail over the thin, sensitive skin of his tail. It is bold of you, so bold it nearly steals his breath away.

“You’re like a cat.” You say, and laugh.

Tsu’tey has no idea what that means, and just continues to stare at you. You’re still holding his tail in your warm, soft hand. The fact that he isn’t pulling away seems to embolden you even more, before you start to bite your lip as you look up at him.

Tsu’tey takes a soft, quiet breath – do you even know what you’re doing to him right now? Desire is beginning to pool, dark and hot, in his belly as your fingers stroke absently over the thin skin of his tail, your liquid eyes gazing up at him with that shy, enigmatic little smile playing over your face.

Slow and steady, he tells himself firmly, fighting to stay composed. He doesn’t want to scare you away by moving too quickly, but your soft warm hands and sweet little smiles are making it terribly difficult. He wants to touch you back, but he doesn’t want to startle you.

“Sorry,” You murmur, apparently growing self-conscious. You begin to pull back. “I didn’t mean to-”

“You may touch me.” He interrupts before you pull too far back. He has been intimate with women before, but this moment with you feels infinitely more intimate and illicit than anything he has experienced before.

You watch him in return, eyes bright. Is he imagining the excitement on your face, mirroring his own feelings?

Slowly, you trace up his tail. His skin shivers under your touch, but he doesn’t pull away. In fact, he leans in a little closer as your fingers move from his tail to his chest, tracing over the lighter stripes on his skin. It feels as though your touch is leaving trails of heat in its wake, and he fights to keep his breathing steady and even as your eyes follow the path of your fingers.

His own fingers twitch, but he keeps his hands to himself. He wants to give this to you, to allow you the opportunity to be in charge of this moment. You’ve always been curious, and watching you exploring his own body only stokes his desire – but he holds back. He will be patient, and he will take this slow. He wants to do this whole thing right.

Your fingers trail down over the defined muscles of his abdomen, and he flexes entirely on instinct. You must like what you see, because your smile turns bashful as you trace your way around his waist.

He’s so preoccupied with watching your face that he doesn’t watch where your hands go next. It means that he is taken entirely by surprise when he feels your delicate, small fingers wrap around his kuru.

His back goes ramrod straight, his eyes flaring wide in shock. It was an innocent touch, only wrapping around the protective braid curiously, but the sheer fact that his prospective mate, wearing the mating gift he had made, holds the most intimate and sacred part of him in their hands has his toes curling into the dirt where you sit.

A jolt of pure, liquid elation jolts down his spine. No partner of his has ever touched his kuru – it was saved specifically for a mate. And though you may not be capable of making tsaheylu with him, the sheer sensation of you holding this sacred part of him nearly makes his vision white out.

“Oh!” He hears your voice say as though from a distance. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep-!”

He’s sure his pupils are blown wide, his ears alert and hot. He wants to reassure you that your overstep is most welcome, but it feels as though his brain has half-melted.

“Tsu’tey?”

He comes back to himself, though his thoughts are still scattered. As he regains some of his awareness, he realises that his desire is beginning to grow obvious beneath his loincloth.

Fuck. He was meant to be taking it slow! He couldn’t invite you to his hut and then grow so visibly aroused in front of you; it was not honourable, and he did not want you to feel pressured.

He lurches backwards, nearly sprawling in the dirt. It’s a graceless movement, ungainly and unlike him, but then again all of this is entirely outside of his realm of experience.

You’re staring at him with wide eyes and an open mouth, your hand still raised in midair.

“I have to go.” He says sharply, pushing himself to his feet. It’s all he can think to do to preserve both of your dignities before he ruins his careful courtship plans with his own reckless desires.

“But-” You start, your face crumpling. “Am I still invited-”

“I must go,” He repeats, hastily angling himself so that you can’t see his front.

He takes several firm steps away before hesitating, then turns back to look at you. “Tomorrow. You may come back tomorrow.”

You still look utterly bewildered, but Tsu’tey hurries away all the same. As he goes, he adjusts his tewng as surreptitiously as possible.

Despite his tactical retreat, he feels more optimistic than he has in a long time. As he approaches the village he feels a feral triumphant grin begin to grow over his face. That likely could have gone smoother at the end, but overall he finds himself feeling impossibly pleased with himself.

He has succeeded at his attempt at courting a human, and he has done so without Jakesully’s help. You have accepted all his gifts, you agreed to come and see his hut, and judging by the way you had groped at his tail and his kuru, physical attraction certainly wouldn’t be a problem for either of you.

It has left him excited for tomorrow, and yearning for more of your soft little hands against his skin.

#tsu'tey x reader #tsu'tey imagines #tsu'tey #avatar 2 #avatar x reader #avatar way of water #na'vi x reader #na'vi x human #alien x human #avatar 2009 #terato

3K notes · View notes

sstrwbrryccke · 4 months

Text

— sweetly spoiled | sub choi soobin

tags: rich reader x sugarbaby+broke soobin, financial dominance, gn reader, this was super fluffy until the end, porn with feelings, anal sex (can be interpreted as pegging), overstimulation, window sex, cum eating, hair pulling

not proofread 😭

you’re a hardworking rags to riches, new money type of billionaire. it started from taking over a failing business to investing into real estate and now a multibillion franchise. through sheer hardwork, will and a keen eye, you were one of the youngest billionaires in the world. you were rich beyond belief, rich but lonely. suffering from the many losses of your family members wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t as if you could make genuine friends in this industry.

meeting him was a total coincidence, you were picking up some late night snacks at a convenience store- just because you’re rich now doesn’t mean you forgot your roots, the convenience store was quick and cheap after all. there you spotted him, tall yet nervous at the cashier, fumbling in his pocket for money to pay for the ramen cup. money which he seems to not have, he sighed, about to return the item before you stepped in to buy it for him. financial dominance at its best, really. when you glanced his direction, met with his shocked face, the first thing you noticed was how seriously cute he was, a man that was 100% your type. wide bunny eyes with pretty pink lips, when he beamed a smile at your kind action, you felt your heart flutter. but that was all it was, a random encounter with a very pretty stranger. he thanked you and you waved him off, the two of you parting ways.

☆★☆

and to be honest, he didn’t come up on your mind that much after, you were a busy business person after all. hours of paperwork and meetings filled your mind as the weeks passed. but one day, your assistant called in sick, and you felt maybe that was your sign to take a rest for the day too. but left alone in your penthouse apartment seemed to only perpetuate how spacious your living space really was. even your personal butler had taken a vacation. so huge, alone, isolated and quiet. when the ticking of the clock was too much, you decided to take a walk to escape the mundanity of your solitude. but he caught your eye again, wearing plain clothing and crouched next to the door of a cafe? you approached him, curious. the sudden shade made him glance up, his eyes instantly lighting up in recognition.

“oh! it’s you!”

he seemed happy to see you, and you instinctively smiled along too.

“what are you doing here?”

he seemed sheepish at the question, craning his head and shaking his hair with an exasperated gasp. it was cute, he was cute.

“i just got fired from the cafe.”

it was such an unexpected and ridiculous answer, you heard yourself snicker. he was embarrassed, lips pouted.

“how?”

“i let a few stray cats and dogs in.”

you snicker again, he instantly shot up to defend himself. reminding you how tall he was.

“it was raining!”

the two of you end up talking, and you invite him to another cafe to chat. of course you paid for everything, you insisted. he was shy at first, very thankful and grateful for your hospitality. what an obedient and well-mannered boy. eventually, through more talking and prodding, he opened up. he was called soobin, and soobin’s adorable looks matched his personality. he was endearing in every way that word could mean. he ranted about his university and disastrous job history, and he really really had a penchant for being broke. seriously, how was it possible for someone to be this financially unfortunate? every time he tried to earn a living, something prevented him, like god’s divine will if you were religious. first job at a restaurant? broke 20 plates in one go. second job as a waiter? the restaurant got struck by lighting and went bankrupt. the list goes on.

when he finished, he was sheepish again at your shocked face, sipping on his mocha awkwardly. you pitied him, honestly, you could tell he was innocent to the qualms of the world, and you really wanted to take him under your wing…

except, what was stopping you?

“uh… sorry for ranting. i normally don’t talk this much.”

he meekly commented, suddenly all shy, back to a very introverted mumble. you just shook your head at him.

“i’m listening to you willingly, aren’t i?”

your tone was stern, he instinctively straightened his back as if preparing for you to reveal something big to him, maybe you were going to shoo him away? you took a moment to stare at him, observing his features. looking at him closer just made him so much more attractive, and you could listen to him talk for hours, even if he didn’t talk. just his presence had soothed you of all your troubles.

“soobin, do you want to be my sugar baby?”

he blinked at you. and you thought you would have to explain the concept to him until his face darkened a deep red, fingers fiddling together. maybe he wasn’t as innocent as you thought he was, maybe you should’ve expected it, but it only made your desire arouse more. there was a moment of silence as you let him contemplate the choice.

“so?”

you break his train of thoughts, and he jolts up, shoulders tightly bunched together as his wide bunny-like eyes lowers. he whispers something you couldn’t hear.

“……that.”

“use your voice, soobin.”

“does that mean we do that?”

slightly taken aback by his question, so that was what he was thinking. he was secretly a pervert, wasn’t he? you grin at him, leaning forward.

“someone’s getting his hopes up, isn’t he?”

to your surprise again, he nods obediently, and your grin widened. being alone wasn’t so bad after all.

☆★☆

it took him awhile to get used to the sugar-baby lifestyle. and for some reason, he was more endearing after becoming your sugar-baby. despite how broke he was, he really wasn’t the type to thirst for money. even being awful at receiving gifts sometimes. he had already been so thankful at you covering his living costs, so anything extra made him jittery and blush, profusely thanking you. not to mention, sex with soobin was beyond wonderful, he was just as obedient in bed as he was in his daily life. you found out later he gave his virginity to you, and that honestly made you turned on and ready for 10 more rounds.

you learned more about soobin’s hobbies too, and one thing you note is how much of a nerd he was. when you give him a very hefty and large allowance, he mostly uses the money for games, mangas and anime subscriptions. even though you insist many times that you give him enough money to buy all of that and way more. he seems to be more than satisfied with just those items.

gradually though, he really takes over your life with his presence, and it was only more apparent when he moved into your penthouse apartment. (even though you offered him a separate apartment, you learned he was a rather clingy person) you found yourself buying more shelves to display his manga collections, catching up to his favourite animes when you have time so you guys can watch together on movie night. he’s an introvert to the core, so he often prefers to stay in the penthouse rather than go out. not that you mind, it was nice to spend the night cuddling with him after long day at work, plus you dote on him extensively, if soobin wanted to stay in, you were going to let him stay in.

and you didn’t know life could get this happy until you entered to the smell of freshly baked goods, a smiling soobin poking his head out from the kitchen. god, who needs michelin star chefs when you have a cute bunny boy? and damn was it was the best cinnamon roll you’ve ever had in your entire existence.

eventually, your work finds out about soobin too, it first manifested in drifting rumors of a mysterious partner you had. then it became plain obvious when you straight-up brought soobin to your office one day. it was a bizzare sight, a man dressed in a hoodie sitting in a room full of men and women in suits. he mentioned he was curious about your work, and next thing he knew, he was in your limousine driving to the high skyrise building.

another time you brought him to those socialite parties, which was really just a fancy name for ‘rich people getting drunk asf’. he was so adorable, muttering to you about how nervous he was as you adjust his bowtie. he wore a grey asymmetrical suit jacket, you had it tailor made for him. you would hold him by the waist and kiss his worries away, reassuring him. and just as you thought, it went great. though soobin wasn’t talkative at all, just smiling beside you as you’re approached by another acquaintance. you two had fun though, you would snake your hand around his waist and whisper to him while gesturing to another rich nepo baby.

“and that one over there, that blonde hair? oh yeah, definitely a wig.”

“stop- that’s mean!”

but he was giggling with you, his eyes creasing into sweet crescent moons. the night passed smoothly, and the two of you retreat back to the penthouse apartment again. there you sat on the bed, freshly showered. soobin comes out from his shower as well, wrapped in a towel. he seemed embarrassed again, at how scantily dressed he was.

“stop hiding yourself, i’ve literally seen you naked soobin.”

“nope, who knows when you’re going to get horny and attack me.”

he shook his head teasingly, his wet hair tousling around. you raise an eyebrow, standing up to walk to him and he instantly starts laughing and apologising while backing away, knowing that once you take action you weren’t going to stop.

“hey i was joking!! i was jokin- AHHH!!”

you go for his hips where he was the most ticklish, and it didn’t take a lot of wrestling until he was under you, huffing and giggly. cheeks red, puffy eyes beautifully curved with his smile, his dimples in full show. touching your knee was something hard, as well, and you smirk at him.

“and i’m the horny one?”

with just the right amount of teasing and edging, you get him squirming and moaning, begging softly for you to touch him more. you haul him up, and he seems to wake up from his submissive daze when he realises you brought him right up to the massive windows of the penthouse. naked and exposed, leg spread embarrassingly far apart as you make him bend over- using the glass as support.

“w-what if people see.”

“let them.”

you whisper in his ear and he visibly shivers. you thumb at his lubed pink hole, dipping in and then dipping out, he becomes more and more desperate with each passing second. when it was clear you were going to keep playing with his rim, he softly whines, glancing behind him to look at you. bunny eyes wide and pleading.

“use your words soobin.”

“mmm… please.”

“continue.”

he gulps, nervous. he was so turned on he felt like he could come with any type of friction.

“spoil me please.”

oh, and you were going to spoil him alright. he was your pretty prince and you would genuinely buy him the earth if he wanted to. hurray to capitalism and this pretty boy. you kiss his nape as you insert a finger. he squirms and clenches his thighs, trying his hardest to hold it in because you hadn’t given him permission yet.

you insert another finger and begin to pump them in and out, purposefully hitting his prostate to push him over the edge. he comes without a warning and he sputters, his thighs trembling.

“s-sorry! sorry! i didnt mean to! im sorry!”

he begs profusely, legs still feeling the aftershocks of his orgasm. but you weren’t done with him just yet, he chokes down his words when you continue to finger his prostate, overstimulating him and making him squeal out in both pain and pleasure. he comes again, very close to the first one, and the white substance spurts onto the window.

“messy baby, you’re making so much trouble for the cleaners. bend down and clean that.”

he knew very well that you had cleaners who wouldn’t even blink an eye when wiping cum off the window. but he obeys as he always has. his weak legs was going to give up on him anyways, so he bent down kneeling on all fours, ass in the air as he awkwardly licked the salty cum off the window. doesn’t mean the work was over for you though, because you join him, aligning your length with his hole as you push into him. he moans loud at the sudden intrusion, arms giving up on him as he slips down on the floor, perking his ass up further.

“did i tell you to stop? keep going.”

he whines, trying to support himself but failing, so you give him a helping hand, your hand gripping the back of his hair and you pull his head back until he’s craning his neck. you swipe a finger at the remaining cum, bringing it to his mouth, feeding it to him, making him swallow.

the whole process was so arousing, it only took a few more thrusts until he was coming again. this time though, the overstimulation was too much and soon enough he was sobbing and crying. you chuckle, he was such a baby, but maybe it was your fault for spoiling him so much. you gently embrace him, thrusting into him softly until you orgasmed as well.

you pull out and coo at him. his body trembling and spasming. you use a wet towel to wipe down the both of you, until he refused you movement by hugging you tightly. it takes a moment to get back to bed, especially with an oversized koala clinging to you. but the two of you flop down, and you take the moment to caress his face. he was sleepy, but registered your soft touches with a satisfied smile.

“want to go shopping tomorrow?”

he hums, shuffling closer to you until his face was in the crook of your neck.

“mm i just want to stay in.”

you snicker. and you have never felt so much warmth in your heart.

355 notes · View notes

urfavoritegirlkisser · 3 months

Text

"Midnight Rain" II - Rockstar!Ellie Williams x Popstar!Reader

an - wow i did not expect you guys to like this idea so much, if you haven't read part one i would go ahead and read it first before reading this part!! Enjoy!

I don't consent to anyone sharing my work anywhere else, I only post my writing on this tumblr account, do not steal my work

Tags: Fem!popstar!reader, rockstar!Ellie, we're burning slow here my loves, fake dating trope, no outbreak au, angst, slight anxious!reader, Ellie is a little bit of a player and kind of an asshole sorry pookies, lightly proof read, listen to "lucky" by britney spears it literally inspired this entire idea

So apparently you lied to yourself and no one forgot it happened

Two months. It had been two months since you had seen that article and left Ellie’s hotel room, and people couldn’t seem to let it go.

Edits of the two of you filled your for you page, fans brought signs to your shows asking about you and Ellie, and honestly, you were sick of it.

It didn’t help that your management thought it was a great idea because it gained traction for both you and Ellie’s fan bases.

So now you sit in a meeting with Ellie and your managers as they discuss another appearance from the two of you together.

This was your least favorite part of being a pop star, the fame, and your fans were amazing, but most of your choices weren’t your own; they were for the “brand” your management wanted to maintain.

“Sounds good to me” Ellie speaks up, breaking you from your thoughts as you look at her like she has two heads and scoff

“I’m sorry but weren’t you the one telling me that you had your precious reputation to uphold and couldn’t be tied down with anyone?”, you could feel your anger at the situation growing but knew you should keep yourself from completely losing it

“We both benefit from the attention, that’s more important to me than some silly reputation sweetheart,” she says with that infuriating smirk that lets you think for a moment that her words are truthful

“Fine,” you say, “But this is only going to be a thing for a few months, after my tour is over we are over, got it?”

Your managers go over the agreements and discuss appearances before the both of you sign, basically binding yourselves to each other for the next six months.

The first appearance was simply Ellie coming to one of your shows

She hangs out with her bandmates Dina and Jesse in the VIP box where they are visible to the fans attending but are secure enough so they don’t get mobbed and can enjoy the show comfortably.

You make sure to direct most lyrics in the more romantic songs on your set list toward Ellie and can tell that your fans are eating it up.

After the show, your manager escorts you backstage where Ellie is waiting, noticing that it’s visible by some fans lingering in the upper levels.

Your manager pushes you toward Ellie and you plaster on a fake smile, running up to her and hugging her tightly.

Ellie kisses your cheek lovingly and it sends a jolt of sadness through you as you look into her eyes, wishing the look of care on her face was real.

“Smile, people are watching” she whispers into your ear while letting her hand slip to your waist and letting the other cup your jaw to tilt your face to hers.

You shake off the creeping feeling of anxiety at so many cameras on the two of you and smile softly, letting Ellie lead you into a quick kiss before parting and being led back to your dressing room by your manager.

You get back to your hotel that night and scroll mindlessly through your feed of constant videos from tonight, some of you performing, some of Ellie in the VIP box, and plenty of when the two of you met after the show.

You scroll through the comments of fans raving about how happy the two of you look with tears in your eyes

If only they knew

an - I listened to my sad girl hours playlist for this, I hope you enjoyed it!! Now go drink water you girl kissers xoxo

#wlw fanfic #urfavoritegirlkisser #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader

261 notes · View notes

chiriwritesstuff · 3 months

Text

The Girl in IT - 6. The Adults are Talking

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

The LIST │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Summary: Sugar finds her voice amongst the people who want to see her fail.

Chapter Warnings and Tags: No outbreak AU, Boss x Employee Relationship, Sugar Daddy Lite, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, Age Gap, Older Man/Younger woman, So much dirty talk, Office sex, Breeding kink, Sugar's parents are the worst and treat her like garbage, Sugar finally finds her voice and stands up to her father, Some angst, No beta we die like men!

Word Count: 5.3K

A/N: And here we go, the chapter where Sugar and Joel finally face off with her parents. This does edge onto angst, as I really wanted to showcase just how Sugar's upbringing really affected her mental health, and how she overcomes it. I cried writing this chapter, because I know how it feels to have people in your life just waiting for you to fuck up, and it's something Sugar has had to deal with all of her life. Honestly, this chapter makes me nervous because I know you all are expecting all of the fluff and smut that Joel and Sugar should be having, but I promise this will probably be the only chapter with heavy stuff. It'll be smooth sailing after this!

"So, I heard an interesting rumor floating around the club lately."

"Good morning to you too, Mother," you mutter, keeping your eyes on the road. "Who's the poor unfortunate soul this time?"

There's a brief pause before your mom responds, her voice almost hesitant. "Well, darling, you know I usually don't pay attention to the ladies and their gossip, but-"

"Just tell me already, Mom!" you exclaim, turning into the office parking lot.

"Well," she starts, "I heard that Joel Miller has gotten himself a... what do you call them? A Sugar Baby? Marcia told me that Lenore from Neiman Marcus said they had-" she clears her throat, "sex," she whispers, "in the dressing room! How scandalous! I heard she's a pretty little young thing! I swear, if that was my daughter, I would die of embarrassment!"

You slam on the brakes suddenly, your eyes widening in shock. Someone honks behind you in response, but you can't pay it any mind. The blood rushes to your ears as you start to hyperventilate.

"Sugar? Are you there? Is it true? Have you noticed anything at work lately?" you hear your mother from across the line. "Hello?!"

You take a deep breath, pulling into the nearest empty stall. "I'm here, Mom," you say shakily, cutting the ignition and resting your head on the steering wheel.

"Well, it's shameful, that sort of behavior," your mom continues, "It's a good thing your father and I raised you right!" she tsks, and you imagine her shaking her head in disgust as she inspects her nails. "Besides, I have nothing to worry about when it comes to you, baby."

That's what gets your attention. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, come on, baby. That kind of behavior isn't something I would associate with you," she coos, "besides, the girl they said Joel was with was really pretty-"

"Are you implying that I'm not attractive enough for someone like Joel?" you ask incredulously, your hands gripping the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white. "What if that girl in the rumor was me, Mom? What then? Would you actually die from embarrassment?"

"... but it wasn't you, Sugar. I raised you better than that, no matter how pretty you could be. I mean, if you just weren't so plain, maybe I would believe that it was you that was in that dressing room with him, but those kinds of girls, baby, that ain't you-"

"Mom," you sigh, feeling the impending headache that usually accompanies conversations with her, "I'm hanging up now."

"Wait!" your mom sputters, "Don't forget about the dinner tonight!"

"What dinner?"

"Oh, don't tell me you forgot!" your mother exclaims, a hint of outrage in her voice. "It's our Ruby wedding anniversary! I sent you an invite. How could you forget? Your father is looking forward to seeing you. Now that you have your big girl job and live on your own, acting like we don't exist. You would think after paying for your education, you would be more grateful-"

"Fine, Mom, I'll be there! What time is it?" you cut her off, the tears already forming at the corner of your eyes. You don't want to be subjected to another one of her guilt trips, fully aware that she'll win, every time. "And I assume it'll be cocktail attire?"

"Oh, yes," your mother purrs, "At 6. I'll make sure the caterers add a place setting for you. Do you need to borrow anything of mine to wear? I'm not sure if you were able to shed those ten pounds I've been telling you to lose. I don't know if anything I have would fit those hips of yours-"

"Two."

"What was that, darling?" you take note of the hesitation in your mother's voice.

"Tell the caterers to put two more settings at the table, Mom."

"Why?" your mother asks, clearly in shock. "Sugar, are you seeing someone? Who is it? Is it someone we know?"

"I guess you'll have to wait to find out," you say, a hint of satisfaction in your tone. "See you at 6!" you say hurriedly, hanging up before she could pry further.

"Fuck." You mutter, slamming your head against the steering wheel once more. "Fuck my life."

Groaning, you snatch up your phone and purse, slamming the door of your Tesla as you stride into the office. With a determined look etched on your face, you attempt to breeze past Connie, resolute in avoiding another interrogation as you navigate down the hall.

"Good morning, Sugar!" she chirps. "So, about yesterday-"

"Not now, Connie!" you mutter, briskly pushing past her, laser-focused on reaching Joel's office. He's already at his desk, his gaze intensely fixed on his iPad, an apple pencil dangling from his mouth as he reviews schematics. You slam his office door behind you, his eyes darting toward you as you drop your purse on the floor. You discard your blazer, shove his office chair back, and settle onto his lap. Burying your face into his neck, the tears you've been holding back start to flow earnestly from your eyes.

Joel's arms instinctively wrap around you, drawing you close as he gently pulls back to get a good look at your face. "Baby, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" he asks, his face etched with genuine concern. "Did Connie corner you in the lounge again? I swear Tess gave her the warning of a lifetime yesterday-"

"Are you busy tonight?" you cut him off, gasping for air, the weight of anxiety from your mother's conversation finally sinking in. "I know this is really last minute, but my mother-"

"Baby," Joel repeats, his hands firm on your arms, steadying you. "Breathe. What happened?"

"They know, everyone in Austin knows about us," you admit with a sniffle. "My mother called, mentioning that her friends at the club were gossiping about you having a sugar baby, and I completely forgot it's my parents' wedding anniversary tonight. I might have told her to add another place setting for you..." you stammer, "... and now I have nothing to wear. I can't borrow anything from her because I didn't lose the ten pounds she asked me to"

"Easy, Sugar," Joel murmurs, his lips grazing your forehead as his hands trace up your arms, providing a soothing touch. "Start from the top," he suggests, leaning back in his chair and gently pulling you against his chest, his fingers rhythmically rubbing your back. "You spoke to your mother today, and she mentioned a rumor going around about us, right?"

"Lenore might have let slip to one of her clients about our... moment in the dressing room," you confess against his chest.

You feel him sigh deeply, the gentle rumble of his chest against your face. "If they only knew that wasn't the case," he murmurs, kissing the top of your head. "You know that, right? You're everything to me, baby. You ain't no sugar baby, not to me."

"I know, Joel," you reply with a tiny sob. "It doesn't mean it hurts any less, though. It's like they want to see us fail, see me fail."

Joel pulls you away again, a serious look in his eyes. "Are you ashamed of this? of us? Do you see yourself as how they see you? Do you think I care what those old bitches say about me?"

You shake your head frantically. "No, Joel-"

"No one gave a damn about my life before all of this," he gestures toward his office, taking your hand in his, "and now that I finally have some worth in their eyes, it's like... I'm cattle being led to slaughter. I'll never get used to it."

"I grew up surrounded by that shit my entire life," you whisper sadly. "Every move I made was up for debate – what clothes I wore, who I decided to bring into my life. It was always dissected and analyzed as if everything I did could have a double meaning. I hated it, this constant scrutiny. I always had to be 'good,' never step out of line, and always know my place."

"Is that why you always felt the need to hide yourself all the time?"

"It's what made things easier, honestly." You fiddle with the button of his flannel. "I hated the attention, I hated that my mother would go into my closet every day and make sure I wore certain things that wouldn't embarrass her, that she would only feed me rabbit food so I wouldn't 'let myself go'. She came from nothing, you know? She was my father's secretary, getting swept away with his money and his connections. She was in my place, once. You would think that she would show me mercy." You laugh to yourself, bitterly. "I was always an embarrassment in my parent's eyes, not pretty enough, not smart enough, not driven enough. I worked my ass off, and they still treat me like they did when I was a kid. "

"Yet, here we are," Joel murmurs, a gentle understanding in his eyes as he reaches to caress your cheek. "You've overcome so much, and you're not defined by their standards. You're your own person, and you've earned your worth on your own terms."

You lean into his touch, finding solace in the warmth of his hand. "I never thought I'd find someone who sees past all that, someone who appreciates me for who I am. Crazy family and all."

Joel smiles tenderly. "Well, you have, and I see a remarkable person in front of me. The past is just that – the past. We're building our own story now, and you're not defined by anyone else's expectations."

You smile sadly at Joel. "I hate thinking about this, about my parents. It always puts me in a terrible mood. Can we talk about something else, please?"

"What do you need me to do, baby?" Joel breathes, "Do you want me to help you forget?" He helps you onto your feet, leaning your body against the edge of his desk. He pushes the hem of your dress up your thighs, the edge of your stockings being held by a garter exposed as your breath hitches on your throat. "Fucking exquisite," he says, his lips kissing your thigh. "What do you need?" he repeats, almost begging.

"I need you to fuck the pain away, Joel," you whisper, spreading your legs further. "Help me forget, please," you beg, your back arching as his hands travel up beneath the fabric of your dress. His fingers make their way up to your core, and his fingertips graze the gusset of your thong, adding pressure as he traces along your slit through the wet fabric. Your legs start to shake as his finger slips beneath the fabric, the edge of his fingertips probing at your entrance. Joel hums in satisfaction. He slowly inches his fingers into you. "Do you think you can come, just like this?"

"Yes," you moan, hitching your leg higher as you place your foot on his desk chair. He slides his fingers into you, the squelch of your wetness echoing throughout his office walls as he prods into you, his eyes dark as he watches his fingers being swallowed whole in your pussy. "Fuck Joel, just like that-"

"Should we check something off from my list?" he asks, moving his fingers away from your pussy as you whine from the loss of sensation, putting the glistening digits into his mouth, savoring your taste.

You nod eagerly. "Yes, Joel. Please-"

"Turn around for me, Sugar," he softly commands. "... and grab onto something." You oblige, slowly turning so you are facing his desk, his hands pushing your back so your chest is resting on its surface. Your hands grab onto the edge of it, pushing your ass higher as he lifts the hem of your dress, exposing your ass. You swear you can imagine his smirk as his hands travel up the globes of your asscheeks, his grasp harsh, squeezing the plumpness of it. He grips your thighs and spreads them wider, lifting your ass to be level with his cock. He starts to grind into your core, your body trembling in his wake.

He hooks his fingers through the elastic edge of your panties, ripping it off your hips. You turn your head to face him, watching as he pockets the scrap of lace into his back pocket. "You won't be needing this," he whispers, and you watch as he unzips his jeans, pushing it down along with his boxer briefs, his cock swollen and leaking at the tip. You gasp at the sight, rolling your bottom lip against your teeth. He rubs his erection through your folds, notching the tip of your entrance. "I'm gonna need you to breathe, okay? Can you do that for me, Sugar?"

He slides in before you can reply, and your voice gets caught in your throat, the feeling of him inside of you so delicious you moan out in pleasure. He starts to fuck you slowly, deeply. "Fuck Joel, just like that-"

"Fuck baby, you feel so fucking good, so fucking tight!" he harshly grabs onto your hips as he begins to cant his hips against yours, the angle he set hitting you just right. The entire desk starts to shake as he pounds into you, and you have half of a mind to say something, but Joel continues his pace, his head thrown back, eyes closed. Thank god for the carpet, you think to yourself.

He gathers your hair, pulling your body towards his as he continues to thrust harshly into you. "You're so good like this, baby. So fucking good for me, right Sugar?" he rips your dress from the front, the buttons flying throughout his office, pulling your breasts from the cups of your bra. He's pumping into you relentlessly, his mouth latching onto your neck. He grabs your breasts, kneading and squeezing. "One of these days you'll let me fuck these," he breathes in your ear.

"Joel, my dress!" you exclaim. "I can't walk around the office with my tits out!"

"We're going shopping after this, baby, don't you worry. You can wear the shirt off my back for all I care, gonna have to teach Lenore a lesson for having a big fucking mouth-"

"Can we not talk about another woman when you're balls deep inside of me?" you whine, meeting his thrusts as you pull on his shirt, trying to keep your moans as silent as possible, not wanting the entire office to hear Joel railing you into oblivion. "Fuck Joel, can you fuck me harder?"

Joel halts, pressing his cock deep inside, his hands harshly grabbing onto your hips. He reaches behind him, rolling his desk chair towards him to sit as he pulls you onto his lap, impaling you. "You're gonna have to be real quiet for me, okay baby?" he whispers against your throat. "We shouldn't be doing this, but I can't fucking get enough of you. Want to claim you on every fucking inch of this office, do you want that, baby? for me to fuck you on every single surface of this office?"

"Yes!" you scream, hopping on Joel's cock as he thrusts up into you, the position allowing you to feel all of him. "Fuck Joel, I feel so fucking full, how are you this massive? Fuck-"

"I'm going to fill you up, make you take all of my cum, make you mine completely. Remember when I sang you that song all those years ago? I looked into your eyes and swore I saw my future children in your eyes, fuck, It's all I've thought about," he groans, and it stirs something deep inside of you, the thought of your children, with Joel's brown eyes and smile, running around in the house, laughing, playing, living a life you were denied as a child. "Are you going to be the mother of my children?"

"Yes! Yes, fucking fill me up, make me yours, I can take it, I can take it! Fuck a baby into me, baby, I'll be so good, so so good-"

Joel's hand goes to your clit, his fingers rough against the nub, rubbing it furiously as you chase your release. "Then fucking come for me, Sugar," he commands. Come for me on my cock and I'll give you the entire fucking world-" He covers your mouth with his hands, his thrusts slow and deep as you fall apart completely. He braces your hands on the edge of the desk as he kicks his chair backward, pounding into you as he chases his release, his face in your neck as he sucks on your pulse point. "You think it'll take this time? You gonna give me baby?"

"Yes! Fill me up, I want all of it!"

Joel groans at that, thrusting into you once more as he falls apart, coming into you deep. You feel his cum fill you so much to the point that it starts to leak out of you. Joel keeps himself inside, panting heavily against your neck. "Fuck baby, I love you so fucking much." He kisses your cheek, pulling himself out of you slowly as he slumps onto his chair once more, his head thrown back in exhaustion. He unbuttons his flannel, throwing it towards you. "Put this on," he says, shrugging his jacket on as you straighten yourself. You raise your eyebrows at him as you button on his shirt, drowning in it. Joel gives you a wry smile. "Cancel all of your appointments, we're going shopping."

"Oh yeah? Just drop work, just like that?"

"Yeah," he replies nonchalantly. "I think it's time we visit our good friend Lenore. Have a little chat."

"Are you ready?" you nervously ask Joel as the two of you stand at the front door. "We can always turn around, say that I'm sick or something-" You fiddle with the hem of your dress, straightening yourself. "Don't you think this dress is a little much?" you ask absentmindedly.

"I think the real question is if you're ready, baby," he replies, a small reassuring smile on his face. "I've been telling you that I've been wanting to scream from the rooftops, yelling that you're mine-"

"I am yours like you are mine." You smile, placing your hands on his chest as you pull him towards you, his lips meeting yours. "I've never been so sure in my life, Joel. I think it's time we stop fucking around, right?"

"I've been yours since the first day I saw you, I was a goner-" he leans in for another kiss as you greedily accept, kissing him deeper, and deeper, and his hands travel lower, and lower, and your hands travel higher, and higher, until they reach the hair at the nape of his neck, and you're pulling, pulling, pulling, getting lost in his embrace. How can something that feels so good and so pure be so terrible to those around you?

"Sugar?!" Your mother's surprised voice slices through the air like a warning shot, abruptly shattering the enchantment between you and Joel. "Mr. Miller?!?" Her exclamation hangs in the tense moment, her gaping mouth and contorted expression revealing a mix of shock and embarrassment. "What on earth is going on here?"

"Mom, I-" you stammer, clearly struggling for words.

"Ma'am," Joel interjects, cutting through the tension. He gracefully presents her with the bouquet that rests on the bench, the vivid orange lilies contrasting against the soft pink of the Rhododendrons he had chosen at the florist. "How do you say 'Fuck you, I've won?'" he whispers with a smirk to the florist while sliding his black Amex across the counter. The resulting display is a beautiful arrangement, yet it carries an unmistakably direct message – as if declaring, "I love and desire your daughter, but I loathe you, so stand the hell back." Joel continues, "It's been a long time; I see the roof is holding up nicely-"

"Yes, well," your mother chokes, hastily grabbing the bouquet from his outstretched hand. "These are beautiful, Mr. Miller-"

"Come on, we're past pleasantries. Call me Joel," he smirks. "Happy anniversary, by the way... and thanks for the invite. Sugar said you guys were talking about me earlier today, so she thought she could surprise you by bringing me along with her."

"Joel. Right," your mother mutters to herself. "I was just asking how she was getting along working with you since she's been so busy, she barely comes around now!" She clears her throat, straightening herself, and glances at you, her eyes darting to the tightness of your dress. "Sugar, baby, what a... beautiful dress you have there. Are you not cold with how short it is?"

Joel squeezes your hand in his, giving you a wink. "Doesn't she look stunning in Herve Leger? Lenore has a great eye, right?"

Your mother fidgets nervously, chuckling to herself. "Lenore at Neiman Marcus? Yes, yes, well... she certainly knows how to flatter the female figure. I wasn't aware you were a client of hers-"

"Well, I had to introduce her to Sugar, you know, considering she always takes good care of me and my girls," he muses, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. You could swear you see your mother gulp at the gesture, her gaze dropping to her nails as she struggles to formulate a response.

"Well, what are we doing out here? Come in, come in!" she says suddenly as if her role as a doting, perfect entertaining housewife finally reboots in her brain. "Sugar's father will be surprised to see you after all these years, you made quite a name for yourself with your multi-million business-"

"Yeah, we did okay, I expect that this government job that we're bidding on might just push us over a billion next year if all goes well." He smiles widely, putting his arm around your shoulder. "Shall we, Sugar?"

You nod aimlessly, letting Joel gently guide you towards the dining room, the laughter of your parents' friends echoing through the foyer. Your body starts to shake slightly, the nervousness of facing your father gradually taking over.

"Stop shaking, baby. I'm right here, alright? I ain't gonna leave your side for a second, okay?" Joel whispers suddenly in your ear, pressing a reassuring kiss to your hair. You nod once more, tightening your grasp on Joel's hand, finding comfort in his presence.

"Everyone, you remember my daughter, Sugar?" your mother announces abruptly as you enter the dining room, her gaze immediately meeting your father's as she holds up the bouquet. "Joel bought us a lovely arrangement. I'm just going to find a vase. Why don't you sit by your father, baby?" A wave of judgmental eyes from your parents' friends descends upon both of you, and you can't ignore the audible gasps of shock that fill the suddenly quiet room.

"Joel Miller," your dad suddenly remarks, his eyes narrowing at your clasped hands. "Now, that's a face I didn't expect to see again." His gaze lingers on yours, a subtle twitch in his eye revealing his displeasure as he presses his lips together. "Sugar, care to explain why your boss is gracing us with his presence tonight?"

"Uh-" you stammer, closing your eyes briefly. "Everyone, I would like to introduce you to my boyfriend, Joel."

The sound of glass breaks in the distance, your mother's surprised gasp shortly following, as if she was hovering past the kitchen in an attempt to eavesdrop on the inevitable showdown between your Father and Joel. You see your mother's maid run towards the door, excusing herself as she attempts to help your mother. You see your mother's friend from the club whispering to the man beside her, shaking her head as she links two and two together, a knowing smirk on the man's face as he looks at the both of you.

"I see," your father responds, adjusting his collar to maintain composure. "Well, what's keeping you both standing there? Take a seat!" he commands, a forced smile directed at his friends. Joel moves to the chair beside your father, a playful raise of his eyebrows as he settles in, and you follow suit in the adjacent seat.

"Sir," Joel murmurs, his hand extended for a shake. Your father eyes the offered hand, clearing his throat before accepting it, engaging in a handshake with Joel. "It's been what, ten years?"

"Has it truly been that long? I recall warning you to steer clear of my daughter even then," he retorts wryly, sipping his drink leisurely.

"Honey," your mom interjects shakily, taking her seat beside you, opposite your father. "Our guests might prefer not to dwell on the past-"

"Dad, stop." You say softly, your head cast down. The emotions that you are going through are reminiscent of the emotions you felt when you were a kid, and you find yourself anxiously fiddling with your hands under the table, your bottom lip quivering slightly. "Please stop."

"What was that?" your dad asks menacingly, setting his fork down harshly. "If you have something to say, you might as well look at me! How did I end up with such a weak-minded naive little girl who opens her legs at the first rich old man she can find-"

"That's enough." Joel cuts in suddenly, his fists clenched together tightly, his knuckles white.

As you glance at your mother from the corner of your eyes, you notice a slight tremor at the edge of her mouth. It's at that moment that you realize you share a vulnerable connection with her. Your mother looks just as horrified as you feel, her hands shaking while your father continues his tirade. The tears start to well up at the corners of your eyes, making your vision blurry. It's a tough moment, and you can't help but see a reflection of your own emotions in your mother's eyes.

"Tell me Miller, how long did you wait to seduce my daughter after you hired her at your firm?"

"Honey-" your mother interjects, shifting in her chair uncomfortably. "We have guests-"

"Or how long did you take until you seduced poor Mr. Miller here?" your Father spits, shaking his head in disbelief, his gaze going to your mother's shaking form. "What can I say, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree..."

"THATS ENOUGH!" you suddenly scream, slamming your fists on the table. You wipe the tears from your eyes, not caring about the mess it'll make at the makeup that the woman at the Laura Mercier counter meticulously placed upon your face earlier when Joel took you on an impromptu shopping trip for your cocktail dress. "Just stop it, STOP IT!"

Your father rises from his seat, his eyes drunkenly narrowed at you as he points at Joel. "You know, when they were talking about the little slut that was fucking Joel Miller at some dressing room who looked a lot like my daughter, I thought to myself, 'No, it couldn't be my little girl, she should know better', but then I see you in front of me, wearing that," he motions to your dress, "Maybe I misjudged my daughter after all. Congratulations, I guess, you managed to sleep your way to the top, just like your mother-"

"I said THATS ENOUGH!" you scream, rising from your seat, meeting your father's gaze.

"Baby," your mother calls out in near tears. "Just let it go, you know how your father gets when he's drunk-"

But it's like you can't hear her.

"So it's okay for you, a rich man in a powerful position to 'seduce' a young woman, make her your wife, and force her into a life where she plays the doting perfect housewife, never allowed to pursue her dreams, always under your thumb? Is it okay for you to think so poorly of your child, your flesh and blood because I decided to fall in love with someone you don't approve of?" you're full-on crying now, not caring that you have an audience, tired of being that scared little girl who never spoke up, never had a voice of her own.

"I did everything right. I wore the clothes you wanted, stayed away from any scandal, followed the rules, and earned an advanced degree at a decent school—all on my own merit. Only to be reduced to being seen as your 'little girl', unable to stand on my own two feet? Is it so bad that finally, I found someone patient enough to wait for me? Do you have any idea how long I've loved Joel? Only for you to tear us apart? Joel Miller is not like you, Father. He's built himself up from the bottom, proving himself to everyone who doubted him. He works tirelessly, supports his family and friends, and is the best boss anyone could ask for. And most importantly, he loves me, never gave up on me, and worked hard to prove himself. But here's the truth—I would have loved him even without all of this," you motion to the opulent interior, "richer or poorer. He never had to prove himself to me. I love him, and that's all that matters."

You glance down at Joel, who's clearly in shock by your confession. His mouth is agape, but there's awe in his eyes, and you know he's proud of you for standing your ground and finally finding your voice. He clears his throat, taking a sip of wine. "Thank you, baby," he whispers. You nod, wiping away the last of your tears.

Surveying the now silent room, your mother's eyes downcast, and your father staring into the distance from his seat, you offer a smile. "I apologize for the outburst, but I believe Joel and I have overstayed our welcome. I'm sorry for disrupting your dinner, Mom and Dad, but I don't think I belong here anymore." You raise your hand to Joel, who is already two steps behind you, and he rises from his seat, taking your hand in his. "I won't be part of a family that doesn't accept me any longer. Let's go, Joel."

"Sugar, baby, please-" you can hear your mom call out behind you as you lead Joel away from the dining room, determined to get the hell out of there. You hear your father telling your mother to sit down, to just let it go.

"What are we gonna do now, baby?" Joel asks, engulfing you in a hug, and kissing the top of your head as you stand in the foyer.

There's a glint in your eyes as you take his face in your hands, meeting his lips in a kiss.

"Do you want to dish out some sweet fucking revenge?" you ask, your hands traveling down to his bulge in his slacks. "Give my poor father one last parting gift?"

His eyebrows raise in curiosity, groaning as you grab onto his cock harshly. "What did you have in mind, baby?"

"Follow me," you whisper, looking around to make sure no one is around, grabbing his hands as you lead him up the stairs, stopping at the door of your father's study. "Shall we?" you ask, opening the door. Joel nods eagerly, a small smirk on his face as he follows you into the room, closing the door behind him. You start to strip out of your dress, pushing the fabric slowly as Joel watches from behind. You push the fabric off your hips, sliding it from the slopes of your ass until the dress falls onto the ground, only leaving you in the black lace thong you asked Lenore to get you, a surprise for Joel. Joel groans in satisfaction as you lean against your father's desk, a wicked smile on your face.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" you breathe, "Are you going to fuck me on my father's desk or not?"

Joel smiles, unbuttoning his shirt. "I thought you would never fucking ask, baby."

Taglist:@sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat, @gwendibleywrites, @joeldjarin, @brittmb115, @thewiigers,

@auteurdelabre, @quicax3, @casa-boiardi, @amyispxnk, @untamedheart81,

@paleidiot, @bbiophiliaa, @laurrrra, @la-vie-est-une-fleur29, @missladym1981 (I apologize if I missed anyone, but if you are looking for any of my fic updates, please feel free to follow my updates blog @chiriwritesstuffnotifs!)

301 notes · View notes

gh0stsp1d3r · 9 months

Note

Hello lovely, your writing is absolutely amazing 🤌, and I was wondering if there could be a pt.2 of the Harley Quinn esc reader x Hobie? Because was simply 💫phenomenal💫

ofc I am!! You guys know me, I have to create more than one part of things

Part 1

Warnings- Hobies kinda a stalker

It’s been a week since the kiss, since the mysterious spider punk had let you go free.

And you thought that it would stay quiet, or he wouldn’t visit again.

You were wrong.

For some reason, Hobie felt an urge. An urge to follow you the second he saw you walking on the street, innocently talking on the phone, oblivious to the currently normal man staring.

So that’s what he did, he felt creepy doing it, but he did it despite everything telling him not to.

He watched as you walked around your apartment, none the wiser to the man outside your window, stalking you.

He slipped on his spider suit quickly, leaving the backpack on the fire escape with a thud. You looked over, but didn’t see anything so you just ignored it.

Hobie went inside the apartment. “Second floor.” He kept repeating to himself, then when he reached it, went four doors down on the right.

He knocked on the door, you groaned in annoyance.

“No, Mrs. Brookes, I haven’t seen your cat-“ you opened the door to see spider punk, who was definitely not Mrs. Brookes.

“Hope she finds her cat.” He said with a small shrug.

“Did you fucking… follow me?”

“Kind of, yeah.”

“Well that’s not creepy at all…”

“Funny.” He said blankly, and peeked inside.

“What do you want? I haven’t done anything.”

“Just wanted to see you.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, and sighed, shaking your head.

“Can’t believe I’m bout to do this.. come in.”

He smiled and walked in, it was kind of weird how he was fully dressed in his suit and you were dressed in pajama pants and a tank top.

“Nice place..” he mumbled, looking around and seeing a bunch of stolen crap, pictures of you and your friends littered around.

“Thanks.” You said, and walked into your room, he followed.

“Why’d you really wanna see me?”

“Cause.. I was thinkin’ and honestly, me and you ain’t so different. There’s this job and I can’t really do it alone.”

“Don’t you have a team or something?” You laid down.

“Yeah, but they’re busy, and I don’t believe in consistency anyways. Gotta switch it up every once in a while, right?”

“Mmm.. that makes you sound like an asshole when you put it like that.”

“What?”

“Yeah, sounds like your gonna get a girlfriend or something, then cheat on her cause you don’t believe in consistency or whatever. Which at the same time is confusing because if you consistently didn’t believe in consistency, would you not believing in it be consistent? So then you’re just doing the thing you don’t believe in and that doesn’t make sense.”

He blinked and stared blankly.

“I’m not that much of an asshole. If I find the right person I find the right person.” He shrugged.

“Fine. I’ll do the job on one condition. You show me just what spider punk looks like.” You said with a small smirk.

He pointed to himself and his mask. “I mean this is what I look like.”

“I mean under the mask.” You rolled your eyes.

“Nah, afraid I can’t do that, love.”

“Why not?”

“Because then that ruins the fun, don’t it?”

You sighed “Not really. C’mon, I wanna know who I kissed.”

He rolled his eyes under the mask. “Here I was thinking you forgot.”

“I could never forget.”

He sighed and thought for a moment. His hands reached for his mask and he pulled it off.

“Happy?”

You stared, mostly with wide eyes and shocked because you weren’t expecting him to be so.. hot.

“Y-yeah.. just one more question. How do you fit all your hair in your mask?”

“I never reveal my secrets.” He sat down in front of you, now close to you.

“I mean you just did reveal one.” You said quietly, admiring his features.

“Well what can I say? You’re very… tempting.” He mumbled, and you both were leaning in to kiss each other again.

———————————————————————

Tag list:

- @enviinotes @rayis-psychotic @korizzybee @animechick555 @stupid-ninja @rreasonablydumbb @xxqueen-of-horrorxx @spidypunkk @criodzasn

@techta @1eonk @chipstermation6 @whosace16 @l-pandamatic-l

@spider-phoenix @zebralover @my-melo-gf @wiz-te-ria @tzuyuzzs @luvsaluv @mxkn

@deputy-videogamer @666kpopfan @jared-oranges @likelilac @jjkclub

@kitty-kei @blaxk-widow @hoesindifferentshows @lavsluvsu @lampylamperson @notbluees @sp0kyzz @arlipooh @freeingrebels @ken-zah @blustalker @cursedbitchboy @romanoffswoman

@chaoticevilbakugo @hobiebrainrot @anonima-2

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #spider punk #spider punk x y/n #spider punk x reader #hobie brown x female reader #hobie brown x fem!reader

237 notes · View notes

danandphilplay · 20 days

Text

im going to put my answers below bc i know some of these vids are likely not returning to dnp and i do agree with that i just wanted to do a fun poll abt if you could have another of these vids then which would you choose. ofc like ive said before we have no control over dnp uploads and i fully know some of these won’t come back lol

ok first of all i don’t think pinof is coming back and i think that’s been clear for ages anyways like ten is a nice number to leave it. HOWEVER i do think an april fools dapc pinof would be hilarious. answering crafties questions and whatever they send to craft universe dnp.

same with amazingdan BUT maybe there’s a slight chance of reacting to amazingdan. maybe not since so much time has already passed since pinof reactions (four months …..) honestly out of the options i’m not that bothered about pinof or amazingdan i feel like they’re classic dnp content that’s fine left as it is

ok for the pizza mukbang thing i don’t care for it to be a mukbang video lol like the actual thing was the nice sit down talk vibes pyjama pizza w friends maybe this is exactly what dan means abt being parasocial 😭 but that video is nice so i don’t think the actual mukbang part of it is that important it’s more the sit down talk style vid

i think i would do anything for another day in the life but i feel like it is prob peak parasocial content. would it count as phouse tour probably. do i think there will be a phouse tour no bc it sounds like it is still having a lot of work done 😭 and i honestly don’t really care abt it… i think the sims renovation was fun and an insight into their interior design opinions lol and that is enough for me

i put it takes two bc a lot of people want to see the next bit i like the game but not rly enough. idk it’s been awhile since that first vid and in terms of other games and things from dnp i don’t rly mind about it takes two being ignored 😭

i know baking is not a discontinued thing anymore bc HALLOWEEN but BUT i really believed easter baking would be a thing 💔 dapc had so much put into it that i kind of forgot about wanting a baking vid but 💔 i can’t lie i think i got set on the expectation for it. like the baking vids have always been absolute classic staple dnp content but definitely the cinnamon roll one was like the baking vids to the extreme… the full potential AND THE BAKE WAS GOOD TOO. the vid was also pretty popular. so my expectations for easter were a bit high. ok so if this poll is like magically summon a dnp vid 🪄 maybe id consider baking because i just love it so much like irl as a hobby but also then dnp doing one of my fav things too and it being so fun idk it’s some of the best dnp content imo. i would love them to try a series of making food from videogames but no offence to them i don’t get the vibe that they cook a lot…… so i think it might not happen. but dil is turning TEN in september so maybe dnp special dil birthday cake baking vid 💔 pleaese pleasemaybe

i think tumblr tag is totally plausible although ik the april fools tumblr tag thing 💔 bc the twitter vid happened i think they’ll do a tumblr one at some point. there’s so much amazing art on here not just fanart but written stuff video and photo edits so i’d want them to see all of that as well as the funny stuff. this isn’t like top of my list of things i’d want to see but it’s definitely one of the more plausible things

dapc behind the scenes content its either happening or it will never be spoken of

honestly idk if they would do reactions to the super amazing project. bc like what vids would they choose. maybe i can see them referencing it or discussing it if someone asked or in a live but idk about reaction vids.

ok draw my life would be fun and i’d watch them. i’d watch an updated dil draw my life too. they put so much effort into that dil draw my life. maybe an updated one for dil’s 10th birthday will happen? that would be pretty fun.

i think if i had to choose it would be a ditl vid. top 3 would be ditl, mukbang or literally just any sit down talk vid, and another baking video. ditl may literally just be bc of nostalgia i don’t really see it happening again but who knows. again just a poll about which vid you’d want to see if you could magic up a dnp vid i definitely know some of these aren’t coming back or very unlikely to

#dan howell #amazingphil #dan and phil #dan and phil games #dapg #dan and phil poll

61 notes · View notes

bonny-kookoo · 1 year

Text

Jungkook:Sugar & Spice (Intro)

In which Jungkook really wants people to love you just as much as he does - or maybe not.

Tags/Warnings: Raccoon Hybrid!Reader x Idol!Jungkook, established relationship, opposites attract because I love that concept, are you tired of my hybrid stories yet because I'm not, fluff, romance, smut, jealous koo, slice of life, mild ddlg themes

Chapter length: short

Other content: Spoiled, Calm

━━━━━━━━━━.~°♡°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

"I forgot.." you mumble quietly, a little ashamed about your entire situation as you've just had to explain to your boyfriend that yes, you've just gotten your period, and yes- you've probably now stained his nice expensive little sofa in his studio.

"It's fine, see?" He mumbles before casually wiping the leather with a tissue before throwing it into the trashcan nearby. "Didn't even stain at all. Do you wanna go change?" He asks casually, looking at you - before he clicks his tongue, the clear waters in your eyes a telltale sign of your typically emotional reaction to things like these. "Come here, crybaby, everything's fine!" He laughs a little, letting you cling onto him as you hide in embarrassment.

"I don't feel good." You whine into his chest, and he chuckles.

"I know baby." He says, as he pats your head. "You wanna go wash up?"

"But I don't have anything to change.." you complain, now getting even more frustrated.

"Bullshit. I've got your pyjama pants here somewhere-" He says, parting from you to search for the clothing item before he crawls.. underneath his desk?

"What're you doing, Kookie?" You giggle a little, watching him pull out a simple black canvas bag that he opens the zipper of.

"Excuse me? You think after what- 4 years I wouldn't be prepared for shit like this?" He proudly claims, before holding up one of your period-slash-heat pull ups- something you've been horrified of telling him about the first two years of your relationship with him, too fearful of how he might react to it. But you've learned soon enough that while Jungkook does sometimes get a little mean in his fun with others around him, he's not a bad guy at all. He's just a bit clumsy at times.

"Why do you have them here?" You whine, grabbing after the pair he's got in his hand.

"Why not?" He shrugs. "Your heats can start random as shit, and your periods are even worse. Better safe than sorry." He simply answers, closing the bag and shoving it back underneath the desk. "Now go change, I'll prepare the couch so you can nap." He jokes, smacking your thigh as you get up to follow his word.

Pulling out a blanket, he puts everything he knows you'll appreciate where he thinks it'll be good, before he checks his phone.

Only recently, he's gone public. While fans knew you existed, they didn't know much about you, nor that you and Jungkook weren't just platonic but a genuine relationship. And while he'd been prepared for what surely was to come, he'd been surprised by the welcoming reaction of the fans, many already expecting it and others defending that he's a person who deserves a private life.

And so, he's been more open with you, company even allowing you to now be seen in behind the scenes footage, and even publishing professional photos from backstage of you. People became pretty much just as charmed as he himself had been years ago- happily accepting you as a part of it all now, and he couldn't have been luckier.

But at the same time, he starts feeling just a little upset at the comments some fans keep repeating.

"She's so cute, I wish I had a hybrid like her!"

"Honestly though, if hybrids were allowed to be idols, she'd definitely be the visual of the generation!"

"She kind of seems almost too nice for Jungkookie~!"

"You think she ever feels lonely at home? I mean, he's at work all the time.."

"Jungkookie?" You ask, and he snaps his head up from his phone, boiling emotions quickly forgotten at the sight of you holding your fluffy striped tail in your hands. "Can you take a nap with me?" You wonder quietly, and he internally swells with pride.

"Of course, baby bear." He chuckles before joining you on the couch, holding you close and tightly just how he knows you like it. Does he leave you alone too much? Do you feel lonely sometimes? He's interested in the answer, but scared of it just as much- so he won't ask the questions. He'll just hold you, love you, and care for you.

Because the love you have is special, and nothing will break you both apart. Not time, not work, and for sure, not his career.

Hopefully.

☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine

458 notes · View notes

thefangirlfever · 5 months

Text

Control freak (a Miguel O'hara NSFW story, 18+)

Summary : Miguel is a control freak but there might be one place where he lets you take control…

Disclaimer : the following story contains mentions of BDSM related content. Proceed with care and note that the acts portrayed take place in a healthy relationship between two consenting adults (as it should be).

Tags : Smut, F/M, NSFW, BDSM (very light), a littke kinky, bondage, feelings, aftercare, riding, PIV penetration, overstimulation, doggy style, temperature play, oral sex (F. receiving)

Who cares about No Nut November ?

==========================================

Everyone in the Spider society knew that Miguel was a control freak. It was pretty obvious by the way he would manage the society, handle missions and work in general. His office literally looked like a control panel, filled with screens allowing him to keep an eye on the whole multiverse, on everything and everyone. Even the way he talked and walked convey this need of him to always stay in control, to never let go off the hold he had on everything.

That’s why it was so surprising to you the first time Miguel asked you to restrain him. The two of you were already dating for a whole year and your sex life has consisted of the most basic, vanilla things anyone could expect. And you were no one to complain. There was nothing to complain about honestly when it came to this with Miguel. He was always making sure you were comfortable and satisfied, all while taking his time. This was way above any other men you’ve ever been with honestly. And if only this was just that, but he also managed to make you feel secure, loved and desired every time. The colder he acted outside, the more tender he was with you, which was a great surprise. You already couldn’t hope for anything better at this point.

And yet Miguel still managed to surprise you. You still remember vividly the day, or rather the night, it happened. The two of you were in your bed after a long day at work. Your last mission had almost been ruined and Miguel had to clean all the mess almost by himself, not allowing anyone to help, afraid this might just make everything worse. In these moments, even you weren’t allowed inside his office. But you knew that after a day like this, you would come home to find him either on the couch or already in your bed, waiting for any kind of relief.

You were sitting on Miguel’s cock, slowly grinding your cunt against him, watching how your slick arousal was spreading on his warm skin and pubic hair. The two of you were making a mess and you could feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm as his hands were moving between your breasts and your clit. You lost it all the moment he pinched both your nipples and you reached your third orgasm of the night. Miguel watched your face torn in pleasure with your lips parted in a moan of agony, still kneading the soft flesh of your sides. You slowly came down from your heights when you realized that on his side, he still hadn’t had one orgasm. When asked about it, maybe he felt frustrated about it, Miguel didn’t dare looking back at you, which was a first. The man could look at you dead in the eyes while being balls deep inside your cunt or while you were moaning his name loud enough for the whole floor to hear you, and suddenly he was acting all shy and coy. Plus, you could feel his hard-on just between your thighs. He wanted to cum, that was obvious, but something prevented him to do so.

With enough teasing and questioning, you finally heard him admitting what he wanted. His voice, almost a whisper, sounded nothing like the Miguel you knew.

“I want you to tie me to the bed.”

With your eyes widened in astonishment, you felt like you almost forgot how to breathe. Did you just hear him right? When he saw your expression, Miguel’s cheeks reddened and he said in a rushed voice, looking away:

“Forget about it. It was weird. Let’s do it like we always do.” He began to slowly get up while lifting your hips from his body. With your hands on his chest, you stopped him and gently pushed him back to the bed.

“First of all, it was not weird. Second of all, what do you want me to use?”, you asked with a grin. His cheeks were now a deep red as he mumbled:

“Stop making fun of me. We don’t have to do it if you find it weird.”

Maybe you needed to handle this question with more subtlety, since it seemed to be a sensitive topic for him. You quickly erased the grin off your face and cupped his face.

“Miguel, I can assure you, there’s definitely nothing weir about that. It’s...different from what we usually do, but that doesn’t mean we can’t give it a try…”

And that’s how you ended up once again of top of him, his hands tied to the headboard with a piece of clothes. You were a little afraid he might hurt himself with his arms brought upon his head, but he reassured you and you couldn’t deny that the sight of his arms flexing was adding a little something to the scene. Miguel found himself panting quite quickly as you rode him once again. This time he could only use his hips and his mouth. The fact he couldn’t reach you as freely as he wanted to was driving him crazy and you were teasing him without even knowing it...at least in the beginning. You leaned toward him, your breasts a few inches from his face as your thighs kept squeezing him, your walls clenching around his cock. This was pure torture as his lips couldn’t catch you, not even for a kiss. When you finally indulged into a chaste kiss on his lips before quickly moving away, he let out a frustrated groan.

“Untie me.”

You chuckled as you watched him fighting against the knot. He could easily break it or rip it. But you were the one in control, the who had the last word… to a certain limit. Your eyes met and you asked in a teasing way:

“Are you sure? Aren’t you the one who asked me to bind you?” And as you were talking, you began bouncing on top of his cock, making sure you would soon reach a new orgasm. Miguel’s face was flushed and his lips parted in low moans and grunts.

“Untie me now!”, he growled, giving you a look you’ve never seen yet. It was like looking into the eyes of an animal. His red pupils were dilated and you could see his fangs, the result of his Spider transformation. He had always been so self-conscious about these futures. Seeing him assuming them in this moment made you untie him.

Miguel quickly flipped you over, your belly and face against the bed, head buried deep in a pillow as he moved behind you and began inserting his hard-on inside your sloppy cunt. His hips rolled against yours before stammering, slapping against your back. His fingers grabbed your waist while lifting up your butt and you felt him hitting your cervix multiple times.

When he heard you moaning his name, every sound muffled by the pillow, Miguel couldn’t hold it back anymore and he pushed himself further into you, his voice almost like a growl. If he wasn’t holding you, your legs would have probably let you go. When you felt yourself reaching a new orgasm, your clit was nothing more than a poor throbbing nerve at this point. The fact that Miguel could hear yourself crying to the sensation mades it impossible for him to hold himself any longer and he just had to come between your thighs as a low moan parted his lips.

His every sensations were heightened and it felt like an earthquake had shaken his world. He knew he had to try it again with you. And so, each time the two of you met, Miguel felt himself getting bolder, slowly losing his inhibitions, just as you did.

There was just something about how he looked all tied up, all vulnerable and offered to you. Miguel usually seemed so impressive, almost scary to most people, especially considering his large frame, his height and his dark gaze. But there, with his body tied up, he had no other choice than bend to your will. And he did know how to bend properly, his body more flexible than clay, and how to make the thing last. He could have easily broken the ropes or the handcuffs if he wanted to, but he never did so. You quickly guessed that he must have been used to this, because he could stand in any of these positions for hours, edging himself until his mind went blank and still not make a sound, not even move. Since he was the most experienced, he taught you how to tie him properly, how to take care of you and him after every session.

This was what scared you the most in the beginning, the thought that you could hurt him. Nothing seemed to scare him, not because he was reckless but because he trusted you enough. No matter how tight the ropes were, no matter the number of red marks on his body, he always knew you would find a way to give him some relief. Just like that day when his hands went numb after being tied for an hour and his wrists were covered in red marks where the ropes had almost cut him. Your words and your touch had a way to ease the pain, to make it go away so easily that he found himself more excited every time, already waiting for your next session.

At some point, the two of you grew confident and comfortable enough to try different things. And that’s how after one of those long days at work, filled with only frustration and disappointment, the two of you ended up at your place. What started as a heated make-out session turned into something way more intimate.

It must have been a really frustrating day for him because Miguel was now sitting in the middle of your living room, on his knees, blindfolded and his body only covered with some thick ropes. Their intricate shapes were crossing his chest, circling his shoulders and finally were tied around his wrists on his back. His throbbing cock was on display for your more than hungry eyes, the tip red and swollen as it was profusely leaking precum. You didn’t even touch him down there and he had already made a mess of your new carpet, not that you mind, but you still felt the need to tease him for that. You were standing behind him, fully dressed, and you were whispering in his ear either the most vile thing or the most tender love words he could ever dream to hear. Not knowing what you were about to say only made his arousal grow more and more; it was thrilling.

“Miguel… you made a mess on the carpet. Will I have to ask you clean it up?”

“S...sorry…I’ll clean it up”, he tried his best to keep his voice even, but it was a pathetic attempt at this point and you could only laugh quietly.

“And how are you going to do that without your hands?” In your hand was the object of his turmoil for the past hour. It was such a small thing and yet, it was driving him crazy. How could such a simple thing have this much effect on him?

He licked his lips nervously and once again, you found yourself laughing quietly.

“Oh, you would do that? Gosh...you’re gonna make me feel real hot…”, you said while rubbing the ice cube against his nipple once again. This small thing was torturing him in the best way possible. You’ve rubbed his nipples with ice so much that they had taken a pinkish color despite their original sugary brown shade. Goosebumps were running all over his chest and the two little numbs were growing stiff, erect and sore. Their sensitivity was over the roof and your words were not helping either. You’ve teased him enough with how hot, almost obscene, they looked; how you knew they would poke through his suit the next day, showing to the whole world what kind of freak he was…

Since his eyes were covered by the blindfold, he could only rely on his other senses, increasing his sensitivity to your words, to your touch, to your scent… And did you smell wonderful in this moment! Your tantalizing scent was driving him wild. Mixed with the perfume of the candles burning across the room, he started to feel almost dizzy, disoriented as his senses were overwhelmed and incredibly turned-on by this heady scent.

The ice cube was slowly melting along his warm skin and small droplets of water dripped down his chest, his thighs and the carpet under him. Miguel was shivering under your touch and the more you were lowering the ice cube on his body, the more he leaned back against you. You could only accept him in your arms, holding him in your arms. His throbbing member was aching for your touch but you were quite not ready to give it to him. For now he would have to satisfy himself with your kisses on his shoulders, his nape and his hairline. The heats of your two bodies were mixed and the silence of the room was broken only with his panting.

When you released him from your embrace, he thought for a second that this torture would come to an end, finally. He was more than ready to pick a kiss on your lips but you were moving further, further from him. Since he couldn’t see where you were standing, he had no other choice than to rely on his other senses. That’s how he noticed the sound of a zipper opening and then the distinguishable sound of ruffled fabric. Something, presumably the said fabric, dropped to the ground. His heightened senses were now noticing a new scent, almost sour and yet sweet like honey for him as he already knew it. He could only whine in frustration as you were untouchable, out of his reach. On your side, you were quite enjoying yourself, watching him struggle against the restraints, sitting on the couch, facing him. The piece of fabric on the ground was nothing else than your pants and there you were, your intimacy barely covered by your underwear, watching him eagerly. The sight was enough to almost break your resolution and release him. But as you slowly grew into this sight, you found yourself getting more and more aroused. You pushed your underwear to the side and slipped one hooked finger between your lips. You were already wet.

The smell and the sound hit Miguel like a truck. He didn’t need to say anything. His kneeling position, how he was bending forward and the twitching of his cock were enough for you to know what he wanted. You decided to let him yearn a little longer while you kept on fingering yourself. The whimpers you let escape your mouth made what you were doing quite clear to him.

“Please...please…”

His broken voice almost amused you. As much as you enjoyed seeing him beg for you, you knew that nothing could replace him when it came to pleasuring you. Slowly, you left the couch and walked toward him. Your underwear were tossed aside and you stood there, half-naked, in front of him, your womanhood only a few inches away from his face. As he kept on begging you, you decided to put his mouth to good use and grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled him closer. His face made contact with your intimacy and he released a loud moan while coming on the spot. He was a wrecked mess. You watched him rubbing his cheek against your glistening cunt, your trimmed pubic hair and your pelvic bone. He was rubbing against you like a hungry cat asking for food. You pushed his face deeper between your thighs, still holding him by his hair. His mouth hungrily kissed your sex and his lips were one with yours. His tongue digged further into your hole, sloppily eating you out. His movements were not organized or even thought beforehand; it was just his instinct that guided him, as well as his want to please you. You were thrusting your hips forward, almost sitting on his lips and he was drinking your juice as if it was some nectar. One of your feet slipped between his parted legs and lazily stroked his member until he came once again, his body shaking against you. When he reached his climax, his lips wrapped around your clitoris and pulled on it, suckling it as if he wanted to drain it. You came a few minutes after him, trying your best to stay steady on your feet while your hips rocked all over him, coating his chin and his lips with your cyprine. Your nails were gripping his scalp and you finally released him, falling back into the couch. Miguel made his way toward you, still on his knees and once again you opened his arms for him.

******

The two of you were usually lying in your bed after these sessions, either talking or just cuddling, depending on the intensity of the moment. That day, you were applying a soothing balm on Miguel’s skin just where the ropes had left their marks. Occasionally you were even kissing his swollen and red skin, showing him how much you appreciated his devotion.

"You really took it well today. I'm so proud of you, Miguel.", you said softly with a kiss on his slightly bruised shoulder.

You could easily see how Miguel was flustered by your compliments. He closed his eyes and let himself get pampered, showered in love while you kept whispering sweet nothings in his ears.

====================================

Thanks for reading. I know this might not be the most relatable BDSM related content but I hoped you still liked it.

#astv miguel #spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara #atsv #miguel x reader #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #fanfic #miguel smut #miguel o'hara smut

147 notes · View notes

the-bad-batch-baroness · 1 month

Text

Where's Mommy?

Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Part 8

Summary: Wolffe's wife suddenly dies, leaving him a single father in the middle of a war.

Pairing: Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Characters: Comet, Cara (child OFC)

Tags & Warnings: heavy angst, mention of death, off-screen death, spousal death, reader is not the spouse, grief, hurt/comfort, family fluff

Word Count: 2.1k

Author's Note: After two consecutive heavy chapters of Wolffe angst, I figured it was time for something a bit lighter. So, you get more Comet and Cara! Honestly, I love their dynamic so much. It's cute and adorable, and it's my favorite. Cara doesn't view Comet as an uncle, but more like a big brother and that's how Comet feels too. Be forewarned, there are still sad undertones. I also really wanted to cut this chapter in half, but there was no good way to do it. As always, please enjoy 💚

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10

Before Comet makes his way to Cara's room, he stops by the kitchen to do what Wolffe asked him. It really is a mess, but at least they were able to make Wolffe think about something else for a couple of minutes. Comet can't even begin to imagine how difficult it is for Wolffe to go through this, but on the flip-side, it's incredibly difficult for any of them to watch, especially when they know there's nothing they can do to alleviate Wolffe's or Cara's pain. It's such a tragedy.

While still in the kitchen, Comet catches a glimpse of a flower-patterned apron hanging on a hook. He approaches the garment and rubs the fabric between his fingers with fondness, remembering when he first became part of the wolfpack. He was just a shiny, hot off Kamino and assigned to the most rugged of commanders serving alongside two veteran clones, and yet, they took him in like family. She took him in like family, too, and made him his first real meal.

Comet smiles at the memory. The pack misses her too, even if they don't say it out loud. With Wolffe still raw from her passing, it's not the time nor the place for them to air their own sorrows, but they still feel it. The hole she left behind and the vacuum it created in all of their lives. She was kind, gentle, loving, and could go toe-to-toe with Wolffe like no one he's ever seen. He chuckles at a memory of Wolffe retreating with his tail between his legs after being scolded.

Realizing that he forgot about his other mission, Comet leaves the apron where it hangs and makes his way back to Cara's room. He'll have to remember to grab it before they leave. Wolffe will want to take it with him. At least, he thinks Wolffe will want to take it. If not, then he might grab it out of pure fondness. They're all aware that once they vacate the apartment, everything in it will be trashed, and the thought of that apron laying in a pile of trash makes his skin prickle.

On his way to Cara's room, Comet grabs the largest box he can find. Wolffe said one box, but he didn't say it had to be a certain size. He knows it's going to be an uphill battle to get Cara to pick and choose what she keeps, so a bigger box will make it easier. She's four, and she'll grow out of most of her things in a couple of cycles, which means he needs to guide the choosing. It may be difficult now, but she'll thank him one day when she's older. If he's alive to see her older.

As he approaches her room, he doesn't hear any noise, which makes him suspicious of what she's doing in there. Maybe all that crying and screaming wore her out and she fell asleep. If that's the case, this just became a lot more difficult. If it's one thing Comet has learned from spending time with children, it's that you never wake them from a nap. Kids are mean when they're tired and they will make you feel every ounce of their displeasure at being woken up.

Reluctantly, Comet opens the door, and to his surprise the lights are on. A quick inspection of the room shows no signs of life within the four corners, but there is a suspicious child-sized lump under a blanket in the middle of the bed. Comet sighs. Just what he was afraid of. When he steps closer, the lump moves. He crosses his arms and tilts his head to the side, watching the lump squirm around. She's not asleep, she's hiding. Comet smirks and decides to play along.

"Oh, no," he says dramatically. "Whatever will I do? I seem to have lost Cara."

The lump giggles and Comet smiles.

"Wolffe is going to kill me," he continues while slowly creeping towards the bed.

The lump giggles louder and Comet sneaks up real close, ready to pounce.

"I'll be decommissioned for sure," he says, then grabs the lump and hoists it up into the air.

Cara squeals.

"Found you!" he exclaims.

"No!" Cara squirms in Comet's grasp. "Put me down!"

Comet plops down onto Cara's bed, places her on his lap, and uncovers her from the blanket. "Are you hiding from me, ad'ika?" he asks.

She wiggles her little body and tries to escape from him, but his grip is firm. "No," she pouts and sticks her tongue out at him.

Comet raises a brow. "Really?"

"I don't want to," she whines.

"Ad'ika," he sighs. "I don't want to either, but sometimes we have to do things we don't like."

"What's an add-ee-ka?" she asks.

Comet knows she's stalling, but it's an easy enough question to answer. "It means child, but in a more loving way." He wanted to use the word affectionate, but she may not understand that yet.

"Why doesn't daddy call me that?" she asks.

Comet thinks for a moment, because he's wondered the same thing. He shrugs. "I don't really know why."

"Does daddy not love me?" she asks.

Comet's brain stalls. The mental leaps and bounds she just made caught him completely off guard. How could she think, even for a second, that Wolffe doesn't love her? It baffles him. Wolffe talks about her all of the time, to anyone who will listen, and even to those who won't. There's nothing he won't do for his daughter, well, except leave the army. He would if he could, in a heartbeat, but they'd track him down and decommission him without a second thought.

Comet shifts Cara on his lap so that she's facing him and gently brushes some of the curls away. "Your dad loves you very much," he says. "So much so that he can't express all of it, even if he tries. He misses you all of the time when he's out on missions and it makes him very sad to be away from you."

"Oh," she says. "Does daddy love mommy?"

"Very much," he answers. "Almost as much as he loves you."

"Then why isn't daddy sad about mommy?" she asks.

"What makes you think he's not sad?" he asks.

"Daddy doesn't cry," she says. "I cry when I'm sad."

Comet's eyes soften and he wraps his arms around her. "He does. Trust me, he does. But daddies are different from ad'ike. Daddies don't cry like you do when you're sad. They cry by themselves."

"Why?" she asks.

"Because," he begins, then pauses as he tries to figure out how to explain it. "He wants to stay strong so he can take care of you."

"Oh," she says.

"You see," he explains further. "Love isn't stored in our words or even our actions. It's stored here." He places a hand on his heart. "Inside our hearts, our ka'rta."

"Ka-ro-ta," she pronounces. "Sounds like carrot."

Comet snorts, then starts laughing. "Yeah, I guess it does."

"So, daddy loves mommy in here?" she asks while placing her hand on her heart.

"Yes, exactly," he says while tapping her nose. "And he loves you in there, too."

"I love daddy in here, too," she says. "And mommy."

"Good," he says. "You keep them in there forever, okay?"

Cara smiles. "I will."

Comet really doesn't want to change the subject or ruin the mood, but time is running short and he still has a job to do. "You know," he begins. "If we don't pack up this box, you won't be able to bring anything with you."

Cara's eyes widen and she scrambles off Comet's lap to start filling the box. She may have been stalling, but he's glad she asked those questions. The last thing Wolffe needs is for his daughter to think he doesn't love her. He would crumble into a pile of dust if he ever found out. Wolffe may not be able to spend a lot of time with Cara because of the war, but he really does love her, and Comet hopes Wolffe will continue to show her that love every chance he gets.

The packing process goes pretty much as Comet expects. Cara grabs a whole bunch of things and tosses them into the box without really thinking about it. While she rummages through her shelves and closets, Comet stealthily removes certain things from the box. If she realizes they're gone, then maybe she does want them, but if she doesn't see them missing from the box, then she probably won't miss them at all. It's a gamble, but one he's willing to take for her sake.

Comet makes sure to grab a few of the things he knows she'll actually want, like cloney, ducky, her favorite pajamas, a few bedtime stories, and the drawings she's made of her family. The drawings are easy because they're flat and can lay flush against the side of the box, so he's able to fit all of them. He knows she's going to need those when they get deployed and she's alone. Some of the toys are a bit harder, since they're bulky or oddly shaped, but he manages.

When the box is nearly full, Cara grabs the blanket off her bed and tries to stuff it in the box, but it's too big and it spills out all over the top and sides. She's had that blanket since birth, so Comet knows there's no parting with it and he needs to find a way to fit it in. He rearranges some items in the box, rolls the clothing instead of folding it, and adjusts some of the more angular things, but it still won't fit. Cara's on the verge of tears and Comet needs a new plan.

"Ad'ika," Comet says. "Would it be okay if I made your blanket into something else?"

Cara looks at him with watery eyes, and nods silently.

Comet smiles and scruffs her hair. "Don't worry. I'll fix this."

Besides learning how to cook delicious food, Comet picked up something else from Wolffe's wife. How to sew. It's an odd skill for a clone to have, but she loved to do it and he was always mesmerized by what she made. He's definitely not a master seamstress like her, but he knows his way around a needle and thread enough to be dangerous. He leaves Cara's room and grabs what he needs from the sewing closet: scissors, a needle, thread, buttons, and some stuffing.

Comet returns to Cara's room and lays out the blanket flat on the floor. He marks out the pattern with some chalk, and with Cara standing back, he cuts out the pattern. Placing that piece on more blanket, he cuts out the second piece in the same shape. With the cutting done, he places the scissors out of Cara's reach and sits on the floor to start sewing the pieces together. Cara leans over his shoulder to watch, just like she did with her mom. Comet smiles at her curiosity.

He takes his time with the stitching, because it would be of no use to her if it fell apart while he was gone and wasn't there to fix it. When he's done stitching most of the outer edge, he sews on the two button eyes, which proves to be difficult when Cara wraps her arms around his neck, practically strangling him. He readjusts her so he can breathe, then finishes sewing the buttons on. Lastly, he fills the opening with lots of stuffing, then closes the final stitches to finish the doll.

"Ta-da," he says, then hands the finished doll to her. "One tooka doll."

Cara's eyes light up and she squeezes it against her. "I love it!"

Comet smiles. "It should fit in the box now."

Cara places the doll in the box and smiles at Comet. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome," Comet says. "Ready to go find your dad?"

Cara nods her head and runs out of the room.

Comet shakes his head and gets up off the floor. He picks the box up and grunts. It's a little heavier than he was expecting, but he did a good job of fitting everything in there. Cara would never be able to carry it, but he can. He'd carry anything for her. He'd carry her sadness if he could. He knows Wolffe would, too. Actually, there's not a member of the wolfpack who wouldn't do anything for Cara. She's family, a part of the pack, and now also motherless, just like them.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10

Masterlist

AO3

Tag List: @nahoney22 @commander-sunshine @sunshinesdaydream @padawancat97 @verndusk @sun-roach @coraex @lickylickylicky @homemade-clones @523rdrebel @clonemedickix @starrylothcat @moonwrecked @ladyzirkonia @stunkbiggu @cdblake1565 @ladytano420 @moonlightwarriorqueen @anxiouspineapple99 @clonethirstingisreal @dreamie411 @trixie2023 @cw80831 @ca77m3anna @reader6898 @kimiheartblade @dukeoftheblackstar @arc-trooper-8008 @knightprincess @kell-of-storms @skellymom @grindeeloo @totallyunidentified @ladylucksrogue @roboticsuccubus83 @totally-not-your-babe @rinwritesfics @t3mpest98 @asyas-daydreaming @vithe-potato @haybellewrites @unicorngirl17

Join my taglist HERE

Tip me a tea on Ko-fi HERE

73 notes · View notes

corrodedbisexual · 1 year

Text

The ultimate shadow ban survivor guide

I've seen multiple people I follow, or their mutuals affected by shadow bans lately (makes me wonder if it's @staff's attempts to fight bots going totally haywire). As someone who survived a 2-month-long shadow ban on my main this winter, I thought I'd make a post.

First step of being shadow banned: calm down and take a breath. A shadow ban is just a stupid glitch in tumblr's anti-spam system. You're not losing your blog. You're gonna need a whole lot of patience, and deal with inconveniences, but it's fixable.

Read the incredibly useful post All About Shadowban by @that-damn-girl. It outlines the symptoms quite well. The only thing I'd point out is "your original posts won’t be visible to your followers either" - afaik that doesn't happen. Everything you post and reblog will still be visible to your followers, and also they can interact with your posts - like them, reblog them, reply to them.

Just like the post says, contact support. I recommend using a different email than what your banned blog is registered to; not because your ticket won't go through (mine actually did, as I found out when they finally replied), but because you might not receive an email confirmation for your ticket (it's somehow tied to the anti-spam thing, I think), and you're going to worry and try to send more tickets, like I did.

Now wait. And wait, and wait, and wait. They are SLOW. I've seen some miraculous 1-day unbans in the #shadow ban tag, but most people, like me, wait around a month for support to reply. Those are the same guys going through thousands of bot reports every day in addition to user tickets.

If you're going to wait, might as well keep blogging. Now if this is your sideblog that's shadow banned, consider yourself lucky. Make a new temporary sideblog, use it to post your original stuff so it goes into tags (mind that it might take a few days for a new blog to start showing up in tags). Reblog everything to your shadow banned blog so you still have all content in one place and your followers see it. If it's your main that's banned, you can still do that, but there's the extra pain of not being able to reply to posts or send non-anon Asks, since that is only done from main. Might need to register a separate account for that.

Some more fun facts under readmore.

Fun fact #1

Trying to send support follow-up emails in the request confirmation email isn't going to do anything to speed up the process. But I did tweet at them using this tumblr support summoning picture by @cornmayor and offered a raccoon blood sacrifice to resolve my issue when it was like a month with no response. This is what they replied.

3 hours later I got an email that my shadowban was lifted. I honestly don't know if it was a coincidence, but I mean, this is tumblr staff. Maybe they do accept blood sacrifices.

Fun fact #2

If you're wondering why my shadow ban lasted 2 months if I got a support reply after 1 month, well. It's hard to say exactly how their ban/unban system works bc support replies exclusively with pre-written template sentences, but basically they fucked up. The first time they told me my blog has been restored, I gained pretty much all functions back, except that my posts were still not appearing in tags. Which means probably that being hidden from tags is some kind of different flag on your blog that they forgot to remove. So I had to send a follow-up ticket and wait another month.

My advice is, when they tell you it's fixed, don't take that at face value, go and check all the functions you'd lost (replies, messaging, asks, tagging, appearing in notes, getting mentioned by others).

#tumblr #shadow ban #shadowban #tumblr support #reference

623 notes · View notes

yan-lorkai · 2 months

Note

i've been thinking about something and i thought you should hear it too,

mc is lilith's descendant but they're also a creation of the brothers' hatred for each other. like how lucifer was feeling so much wrath he created satan, the brothers' hate for each other created a curse and gave mc life [let's assume their mother couldn't have a child for the sake of this au-]

so when mc learns this, they try to stay away from the brothers as much as possible. how do you think the broters would react? [btw you're my fav yandere blog, keep up the great work, ily take care of yourself <3]

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ A/N: This is certainly interesting, darling. Got me thinking about tons of things that could happen if this was the case. Poor Mc though, they already deal with too much! I hope you enjoy! <3

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ Warning: Yandere content, kidnapping, I think that's it? Let me know if I forgot a tag.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Assuming he didn't know this, Lucifer would feel stunned. Did the hate, agony and all the sadness they have felt for centuries culminate in one being? A being that also carries Lilith's blood? He remembers the first arduous days that followed after the war, he remembers how Satan behaved and screamed, how he felt everything at once without knowing what to do.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ And he knows that up to this point, you must have had a pretty rough time growing up, being haunted by memories and events that you didn't see or witness, being tormented by their suffering without knowing what's up with you.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ You want to pull away and run away when find out about your origins, and honestly he understands. Lucifer understands but he will not allow this to happen. Just as you fixed his family, he and his brothers will help you process and deal with all of this. Even if you're screaming and crying at them, trying to escape them, trying to disappear from their lives. It's all for your own good, he assure you.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Mammon is the most empathetic of the brothers, as well as being the one who spends the most time with you since the beginning of the exchange program. It was clear that he noticed that you had your moments of anger and bitter hatred or long periods of sadness, even without an apparent reason. And he tried to help you the best he could. When the cause of your problem was revealed, Mammon tripled his efforts to help you.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ You are family and families help each other. Even if your family is hysterical and trying to disappear because of the conflicting feelings they have. Memories can't be erased like that and yes, it's unfortunate that you are made up of all their suffering, but he won't let you get away that easily. So run, scream and fight with him, with them, Mammon will make sure that at the end of the night you are back home.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ For Levi, this is all a bad joke, the plot of a terrible anime. He remembers how he felt during each of the celestial wars, but most of all he remembers the war that caused his downfall. There was so much pain, so much suffering everywhere he looked. Heaven lost its brilliant children, his angel brothers would carry a weight in their hearts and a bitter memory of the events; the first time angels were cast out. As a general, especially after the fall, Levi had no intention of continuing to live anywhere other than the home he was given.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ His room was his safe haven, where he could cry and vent alone. Where he could exist without fear of judgment and the tragedies that haunted him. Knowing that you are the result of all this makes him immensely sad, despite this he doesn't know how to comfort you because everything he knows as comfort may not be enough for you. But he doesn't intend to give up so easily, even if in small steps Levi tries to look for ways to show you that you has no reason to fear, now that you knows about your origin, there's no reason to stay away. On the contrary, this could be worse now.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ It may not seem like it, but he knows exactly what kind of thoughts are running through his head and the heads of his brothers. A general knows how to read his opponent like his own hand and knows that having a focused and calm mind is the key to the situation. He knows that if he joined forces with each of his brothers, you wouldn't stand a chance. You are theirs now and forever.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Satan knows what it's like to exist feeling only one emotion, so he completely understands how conflicted your feelings must be and, while he himself feels conflicted between letting you go to mentally heal and processing everything, he also wants to keep you close.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ However, if you really want to leave then he will go with you and this is non-negotiable. The others are hunting you and only he can take you through shortcuts and open portals, you need him. He is someone who can support you in difficult times and rinse your tears, to cheer you up, get you out of bed and make you forget your problems, like he wished someone had done when he came into existence. Even though a part of him feels really smug for being the one who shares a strong bond with you; being created against your will through a feeling that does not define you.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Asmo didn't even know something like that could be possible, but then again he also didn't know that someone could feel so much anger and literally give birth to a new being. He is surprised, quite surprised by the revelation that you are kind of a creation with Lilith's blood but also with a little bit of his brothers, their feelings and thoughts. And he wants to help, but like Levi he's not sure how to help.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ So instead he spread word for his followers to keep their eyes wide open and if they see someone who reassembles you, then to tell him immediately. You can run away all you want but you can't truly escape him and his brothers, as many eyes are on your back wherever you are.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ When you're back he is affectionate as usual, kissing your cheeks and wiping your tears as you cry. Yes darling, everything it's too much and you need some time to process all those facts but you are gonna face it this with him and his brothers, you are part of the family after all.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Beel feels sad knowing that you were born surrounded by pain and the terrors of war they all felt, they got better through the years, overcomes their pain and accepted Lilith's passing. There's still some issues they have to fix, but each brother is doing everything they can to found you when you run away. And Beel goes around Devildom with Belphie to search for you on your favorite spots.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He knows it may be painful to be near them right now but Beel can't let you go. He already let Lilith go because he couldn't protect her but he sure can protect you, even if he has to protect you from yourself. When he finds you, Beel throws you into his arms and hurries home, without carrying how you punch and scream at him to let you go.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Belphie knows that instead of thinking how you feel and how bad your life was dealing with their sorrow, it's the first to act. He knows you well, knows how you think, what you feel and how you react to thinks, more times than he should Belphie used to invade your dreams without you noticing just to watch you, to study you. Sometimes to come closer to you, to hold your hands and ask for forgiveness for how wrongdoings. You never remembered though, he didn't want you to remember he could do this.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ In all your dreams though you always had a particularly spot that you loved to go and hide when you needed some time alone. He take Beel with him when they go, he knows you're there, he can feel it. And when they find you, Belphie puts you to sleep with his powers. His brothers can comfort you with their words and affections meanwhile he could work with your unconscious.

#yandere lucifer #yandere mammon #yandere levi #yandere satan #yandere asmo #yandere beel #yandere belphie #lucifer x mc #mammon x mc #levi x mc #satan x mc #asmo x mc #beel x mc #belphie x mc #yandere obey me #obey me #lorkai headcanons

84 notes · View notes

violet-1atte · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day Four: Monsterfucking - Chan/Felix

Tags: Demon!Chan, summoning, demon summoning, abnormal genitalia, no lube, mild pain kink, dom/sub undertones, bottom!Felix, top!Chan, dom!Chan, mild fear play

I forgot to post this lmao

AO3 Link

This was a bad idea. Felix knew that very well. He wasn’t the brightest but he had a pretty good head on his shoulders. He was smart and he did well enough in school. He just wasn’t always the best at thinking logically, which he was told often. In this situation, he knew that logically, he probably shouldn’t be doing this. He just went against his better thinking.

Felix set the summoning book he had bought from some shady guy on the internet on his bed, open to the page he wanted. The book listed countless summoning spells and for all kinds of different entities, but Felix had one in particular in mind. An incubus. To put it lightly, Felix was desperate. He lived in a small, rural area and went to a small university and the prospects there were little to none. No one knew how to fuck him the way he wanted to be fucked and he was so sexually frustrated he could cry. His friend Jisung had offered a helping hand, as bros of course, but Jisung was far more submissive than Felix was and the exact opposite of what he needed. Of course, Jisung probably didn’t mean for him to take it literally when he said that at this point he should summon an incubus to come help him, but Felix took it that way.

He honestly didn’t fully believe it would work. If it didn’t work then no one had to know he had such a deep lapse in judgment and he could move on with his life, forever sexually frustrated. If it did work, he could possibly end up with the best fuck of his life and never be the same again. He could also end up accidentally selling his soul to the devil, but that was something for his future soul to worry about. And because of the parts of him that did not believe in this whole thing in the first place, he wasn’t all that worried. He really should have been more worried.

He took a deep breath, double checking that everything in his summoning circle was set up correctly. His heart was racing and his palms were sweating and he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up, but he wasn’t backing out. He was going to do this.

Once he had everything set up, he picked up the book and began to read. The words sounded like gibberish and his voice wobbled as he spoke, sounding all too loud in the quiet room. His hands shook a little as his words echoed back to him, bouncing off the walls. The flames on the candles he had lit flickered and yet there was no wind. The closer he got to being done with the incantation, the more his heart raced and his stomach swooped with nervousness. He could feel something, something strong, like something was waiting for him behind an invisible wall that he was about to break.

As soon as he reached the end of the spell there was…nothing. His room was just as quiet as it had been before he started speaking. The candles had stopped flickering, leaving Felix to wonder if it was just his imagination.

He sighed and closed the book. “Bummer,” he muttered to himself. He knelt down to begin putting out the candles so that he could put everything away, but out of nowhere, a breeze swirled around him and blew all the candles out. He didn’t even have his window opened.

He shivered and swallowed thickly, slowly moving to stand up. Goosebumps rose all over his arms and he held his breath, waiting. Then, the floor began to shake. “Shit–” he gasped, reaching out for something to grab as he stumbled backwards. His light began to flicker and the air in the room started to heat up. He began to sweat and he couldn’t tell if it was from the fear or from the heat in the room. A disembodied laugh followed the heat and Felix’s breathing picked up. He shouldn’t have done this. He should have known it would be a bad idea, it would be dangerous. He hoped his mom and Jisung knew he loved them.

The laugh grew louder and Felix started backing up, preparing to run. Before he could move another muscle though, something invisible held him back and flames erupted from the middle of the circle he’d created. Tears sprung to his eyes as the flames grew higher, heating his skin. He was going to die.

He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, willing himself to be strong. If he didn’t think, it would all be over soon. The earth would be rid of his stupidity and he would hopefully make it to the afterlife. But then the scalding heat of the fire was gone, and the room was cool again.

But there was another presence.

Felix felt a warm hand on his cheek and what felt like claws scraping along his skin. His heart thundered loudly against his chest.

“Why do you look so scared, pretty? You did call for me, didn’t you?”

Felix exhaled shakily and slowly opened his eyes. As soon as he did, he let out a gasp. The creature was mere inches away from his face and he was all parts beautiful and terrifying. His eyes were an inky black and they bored into his soul, swallowing him up. Black curly hair fell across his forehead and two blood-red horns jutted out from the top of his head, bending and curling at the ends. They were long and sharp and could probably kill a man in an instant. Kill him.

Now that his eyes were open he could tell that what had felt like claws on his skin were claws. The skin on his hand went from a caramel tan to the same deep red that his horns were on his fingers which extended into sharp claws, like a lion’s. The creature was smiling at him too, and he had two sharp fangs that looked like they could tear into flesh like it was nothing. The mere sight sent chills of fear down Felix’s spine.

“I…uhm,” Felix attempted, gulping. “W-what–who are you?” His voice sounded oddly airy and high for how deep it normally was.

“You really summoned me without knowing that?” the creature asked, raising a condescending eyebrow at Felix. Felix’s hands clenched at his sides. “Well…I think it’s pretty obvious what I am. I’m a demon, if you haven’t guessed already,” he said, stroking Felix’s cheek with his clawed fingers. His stomach flipped, and it wasn’t from fear. “And I’ve been called many names over the centuries. But you can call me Chan.” His smile widened and Felix’s eyes were drawn to the dimples that formed on his cheeks, contrasting the rest of his terrifying appearance.

“Chan,” Felix repeated with a meek nod. “I–so–” Felix wondered if the creature–demon–knew why he had called him in the first place. Because despite the fear rattling his bones and the anxiety twisting his stomach into knots, Felix was still oddly drawn to him. He had gorgeous tan skin and a body that looked like it had been sculpted by the ancient Greeks and oh–Felix just realized he was entirely naked. “Do you–do you know why I–why I asked you here?”

Chan hummed, pulling back a bit as he thought. “No. Only you can know your intentions. So why do you want me here?” he asked, leaning in again. “Do you need revenge on someone? Protection? Was this just curiosity, maybe? Or foolishness.” He laughed and it twisted Felix’s insides deliciously. Oh he was so stupid. This was insane. He was insane.

“None of those things, actually,” he said. His voice still quivered but he felt a little more confident. “I–I was attempting to summon an–an incubus,” he said.

The demon’s eyebrows raised and his lips curved upwards into a smirk. “Oh…So that’s why.” He laughed again and shook his head. “Humans these days…so desperate we don’t even have to do any of the tempting.”

Felix bit back an embarrassing whimper at that and his cheeks heated up. A demon–a fucking demon–was calling him desperate. If a creature of sin was telling him he was desperate then it must be true. And Felix would be lying if he said that didn’t make hot waves of arousal pool in his belly.

He didn’t say anything as he watched Chan’s eyes roam over him, igniting his skin in flames hotter than the ones that had brought Chan there in the first place. “I was desperate,” he admitted, wetting his lips. “I couldn’t–I couldn’t find anyone who was good enough. I w-wasn’t satisfied,” he continued. “They were all too soft. Too gentle.”

“Hm,” Chan hummed. The hand that was on Felix’s cheek slid down to cup the side of his neck. Felix’s pulse raced against his fingers. “And that made you desperate enough to summon a demon?”

Felix swallowed and nodded quickly. Fuck it really did sound pathetic when it was said out loud.

Chan looked over again, his black eyes scanning over his figure. He looked up again to meet Felix’s eyes. “Are you scared? You were shaking when I arrived.”

He licked his lips. “Terrified,” he whispered.

The grin the demon offered in response sent blood rushing to Felix’s cock and his legs shook. “Good,” he said lowly. “I wouldn’t be doing my job right if you weren’t scared.” He caressed Felix’s pulse point with his thumb.

“And will you–” Felix took a deep breath to steady his voice. “Will you do what–what I summoned you for?”

“Well I’m not an incubus,” Chan said, pursing his lips afterwards. Felix’s heart sank and then he felt the genuine feelings of fear returning because if he wasn’t here for that then– “But I’m never against indulging. Especially with a human as pretty as you…”

Felix’s eyes widened. Chan smiled and put his other hand on Felix’s waist, digging his claws into his skin through his shirt. “You really should be one of the angels with how divine you look. Definitely not with a demon.”

“Well looks can be deceiving,” Felix said with a sweet smile. “I might look pretty and innocent, but I really just want to get fucked.” And somehow the fact that this demon looked like he could tear him to pieces and take his soul only made the desire burn hotter. “Please. I called you here. I want it.”

Chan’s eyes shifted in color slightly, a bit of a red glow burning underneath the black. It made Felix’s nerve endings tingle. “Are you sure you can handle that, pretty thing?” he asked.

Felix bit his bottom lip and smiled. “Absolutely,” he said, even though his stomach swooped like it did when he was on a fair ride. He had gotten this far, he might as well continue.

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?” He grinned, and before Felix could even muster a response, he was gripping his long hair and tilting his head back. Felix’s scalp stung and tears sprung to his eyes almost immediately but shit it felt good. He hadn’t even had time to process that sensation before the demon’s mouth was on his, immediately kissing him passionate and messy. Felix moaned and his lips parted, allowing Chan full access to his mouth. His tongue ran along his lips and dipped into his mouth, connecting with Felix’s tongue. His fangs scraped his bottom lip and it stung and he was pretty sure there would be blood, but that only added to the intensity of the kiss. He ravaged Felix’s mouth like no one had before, pulling low, needy moans out of him. The sounds of their lips sliding together filled the room and Felix’s own moans bounced around the walls, only muffled by the demon’s hot lips on his.

Eventually Chan did pull away and Felix gasped for air, his chest rising and falling. He wondered briefly if demons needed to breathe, but he didn’t have much time to ponder because suddenly Chan picked him up, the muscles in his arms bulging–and then he tossed him onto the bed. A gasp was punched out of Felix that turned into a moan and his cock twitched at the display of strength. If there were two things he loved they were muscles and manhandling.

The demon crawled over him on the bed, completely caging him in. He knew that he was completely at his mercy. And to anyone else, the sight of the ink-eyed, horned creature looming above them would be terrifying, but to Felix it was erotic. This creature was terrifying and he loved it.

“Humans are so fragile,” Chan said with a slight pout. “I’ll make sure not to totally break you though.” He gave Felix a cocky smirk and he wanted to cry. He wanted to beg yes, please, please break me, break me so that I can’t ever think of anything else, ruin me, but he held his tongue.

“Let’s get these off you. I want to see what you’re hiding under these silly garments.”

The demon didn’t even bother trying to pull Felix’s shirt over his head. He simply hooked his claws around the collar and tore it right off in one swift motion. Felix’s hips jerked and he outright moaned. “Fuck–I’ve always wanted someone to just tear my clothes off me,” he whimpered.

“It’s so sad that everyone else was too weak,” Chan responded. He settled for just tugging Felix’s sweatpants off, and he tossed them aside along with the remains of Felix’s shirt. Felix hadn’t been wearing any underwear, so once the pants were gone, he was completely naked. Chan licked his lips as he looked over Felix’s body and he put his hands on his chest. “Mm so pretty. Truly abnormally pretty for a human…you really could be an angel. I’m glad you’re not though.” he scraped his claws down Felix’s torso, over his nipples and down the ridges of his abdomen. “If you were an angel I couldn’t be doing this right now.”

“I’m glad I’m not then,” Felix said. “Now please fuck me, fuck me so hard it hurts.”

Chan grinned and his dimples did nothing to take away from how hungry and downright sinister his grin was. “Oh I intend to. But one thing first. Call me Master.”

Felix gulped and wet his lips. “Okay. Master.”

He chuckled softly and squeezed his side, his claws digging into his side. “Perfect.” He then moved between Felix’s knees and nudged them apart then brought two fingers to his lips. “Open.”

Felix opened his mouth dutifully and the demon slipped his two fingers inside. Felix let out a muffled moan as Chan pressed down on his tongue and slid his fingers back. He gagged when his claws touched the back of his tongue the sensation only served to make the sparks of arousal in his stomach turn into burning flames.

“Good boy,” Chan hummed, removing his fingers, a trail of spit connecting his fingertips. Felix stared ahead dazedly, his head already feeling fuzzy from the cocktail of emotions he’d felt in the last ten minutes and the feeling of his steadily hardening dick.

Chan grinned, fangs poking out over his plump bottom lip, and he slipped his fingers between Felix’s asscheeks. Felix shuddered as the tips of his fingers circled his hole and for a moment anxiety twisted in his gut because oh fuck the claws. The demon seemed to notice the change and he merely smiled, black and red eyes flickering. “Don’t worry, pretty human, it won’t hurt,” he promised. Felix watched as the claws on the demon’s fingers disappeared, retracting back as if he were a cat. It made a wave of relief wash over him and he spread his thighs.

“Please. Please open me up, master,” Felix whimpered, the pitch of his normally deep voice raising a few octaves.

“Impatient,” Chan hummed. He circled his hole for a second before pushing the first spit-slicked finger past his rim. Felix arched his back and let out a moan. Chan’s hands were hot, and with just one finger he felt like a volcano was erupting inside of him. Heat traveled up his stomach, through his chest, up his throat, and it burned deliciously.

“Ah ah–more,” Felix gasped, rolling his hips to pull Chan’s finger deeper. Despite the fact that he had only used spit for lube there was hardly any burn at all. Must be some sort of demon magic.

Chan leaned down and scraped his fangs across Felix’s thigh as he inserted a second finger and began to scissor the tight ring of muscle. Felix shuddered at the feeling, the feeling of the possible threat–the demon, so much stronger than him, sharp teeth tickling his soft, sensitive skin. He felt lightheaded from it all.

A litany of moans filled the air as Chan scissored his fingers in and out of him and when he pressed them against his prostate, he cried out. The heat of his skin made the touch so much more intense and he wanted more, more. “M-master, master, please,” Felix begged.

“Such a pathetic little thing, aren’t you?” Chan asked with a condescending coo. Felix licked his lips and looked up at the demon through hazy eyes.

“Ye-yes,” he hiccupped. “‘M just desperate. Desperate to get fucked, master, please.”

Sinful was definitely the correct way to describe this scene. Felix’s freckled skin was flushed all over and his cock was hard and leaking against his stomach. And he was begging a demon to fuck him and fill him up.

“Fuck, I want to break you,” the demon groaned. He leaned between Felix’s spread thighs and opened his mouth and for a second Felix thought he was going to take his cock in his mouth, but instead he stuck his tongue out and let a drop of saliva fall down his crack. Felix moaned low in his throat at that and clutched the sheets.

“Sh-shit,” he swore, hole clenching around Chan’s fingers.

Chan smirked as he removed his fingers, only to use them to collect the saliva and push them back in with a third added to the mix. He began to fuck them in and out of him, rubbing against his prostate in a way that had him arching off the bed and moaning obscenely. It was probably loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Fuck.

The demon’s tongue and teeth mapped out his body as he fingered him. Bite marks and dark purple bruises littered his skin like a painting. Some of them hurt, some stung, but it was so good. With every new bite Felix’s reddened cock twitched against his stomach. Chan was merciless with his touches. The sensations overwhelmed Felix’s senses, making his head spin and his limbs tingle. But he needed more. ‘S enough, can take it now, I can,” he whimpered as Chan pressed a fourth finger into his twitching hole.

“Well I am quite eager to fuck you, angel,” Chan said with a smirk. Felix laughed dazedly at the irony of the nickname. There was nothing angelic about any of this, like the demon had already said earlier.

Chan removed his fingers, leaving Felix’s hole gaping and clenching around nothing. He brought his hand to his own cock and the movement drew Felix’s eyes to it. And then he gasped.

“Oh–fuck,” he muttered. He didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed before. Not only was his cock huge, it was covered in rows of rough ridges and bumps, unlike any cock Felix had ever seen. Then again, Chan wasn’t just some man. He was a demon. A monster. Fuck. “That’s–”

“Oh?” Chan asked, tilting his head teasingly. “Does it scare you, pretty?” He gave his cock a few slow tugs and Felix gulped, shaking his head.

“N-no, master,” he breathed. If anything, it made him even more eager. Shit, those bumps would drag along his walls and rub against his prostate and it would feel so good. So good.

“Good,” the demon hummed. He jerked his cock a few more times before releasing it and suddenly he grabbed Felix by the hips and flipped him over in one motion. Felix let out a gasp followed by a whimper, unbelievably turned on by the simple action.

“Nghh–master.”

“Shush, pretty. Or I won’t fuck you at all,” Chan growled. He gripped Felix’s hips and pulled him back so that he was on his knees with his chest pressed to the mattress. His claws were back and they dug into the sensitive skin of his hips.

Felix swallowed thickly and a groan rumbled in his chest when he felt the tip of Chan’s dick press against his hole. He nearly opened his mouth to ask for more but then Chan was pushing inside him. His mouth fell open and a loud moan was punched out of him as Chan pushed himself all the way in. The ridges of his thick cock caught on his rim and pushed against his walls but it didn't hurt, it felt good.

"F-fuck, master, please move," he gasped pathetically.

Chan's grip on his hips tightened and he began moving, giving Felix no time to adjust. He fucked him animalistically, his hips smacking against Felix's ass so hard he knew it would bruise in the morning. The bumps on his cock brushed against his prostate with every thrust and Felix's eyes rolled back. Heat furled in his stomach and he could already feel himself getting close pathetically fast.

"Hnn–ah, aahhh–f-fuck m-master, m-more, hard–nghhh–harder!" he whined, arching his back more for the demon to fuck him deeper. It felt like he could feel him in his guts.

Chan picked up his thrusts, ramming into him so hard it punched the air out of him. "That good enough for ya, huh?" He gritted, digging his claws harder into Felix's hips. He didn't even sound breathless.

"Yes, yes! Aahh," Felix moaned. Drool ran down his chin as he lost all care for how he acted, so close already.

Chan continued fucking him just like that, pushing into him deep and hard, filling him up and stretching his walls better than anyone ever had before. His cock ached as it bounced against his stomach with each thrust, precum dripping down it. Each thrust had him twitching. It was too much, but exactly what he had been needing.

"I'm almost–I'm gonna–" Felix sputtered after a few minutes, barely able to form coherent sentences. Chan pounded into him at an unnatural pace, one that left him reeling. He could never be fucked by someone else again.

"Come for me then, pretty. Make a sinful little mess of yourself," Chan groaned.

And just like that, Feliz was coming with a long drawn out moan, covering his stomach in cum. Chan continued fucking him through his orgasm, the drag of his cock making Felix tingle with overstimulation. He let him continue though, and after another moment he was filling him up with his cum, letting out a low growl as he did.

Felix barely registered anything after that. One moment he was awake, being filled to the brim, the next he was out. And when he woke again, the demon was gone. The only evidence being the countless bite marks, hickeys, and scratches on his skin.

It almost seemed like a dream. And Felix wondered if that would be the end of everything. But as he was moving around and getting ready for the day, a brush of an invisible hand on his shoulder and a familiar disembodied chuckle told him that wouldn't be the last he'd see of the demon.

141 notes · View notes