#i imagine this is the sense of calm i would feel when i finally and inevitably do something that i will be unable to take back | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

makoodles · 10 months

Text

ミ sex education

part one. | part two.

🍓 pairing: jake sully x human fem reader x neytiri

🍓 tags: nsfw, best friend!jake, dilf jake cause i can't help myself, jealousy, allien cultural misunderstandings,size kink, alien genitalia, human x na'vi, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, threesomes

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reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

You have no idea how you’ve managed to get yourself into this position.

Well, that’s not strictly true. You suppose it all started with your best friend stuffing you full with his fingers until you had trembled apart in his arms.

You awake the morning after, loose-limbed and jelly-jointed with a sense of bone-deep satisfaction, naked limbs tangled with Jake’s big blue ones. He’s comically overlarge for your bed, his legs hanging off the edge of the mattress, and one of his big arms is looped lazily over your back.

You had expected things to be awkward afterwards, but when Jake finally stretches himself awake he just greets you with a yawn, slaps your ass, and asks if he’ll see you later on for dinner. When you agree he kisses the top of your head, wiggles his way back into his loincloth, and gives you a cheeky wink before sauntering out to return to the village.

You’re left bewildered and alone in your room. Truthfully, part of you had expected him to freak out a little over awaking naked in your bed after indulging in inappropriate activities with you the night before; maybe panic and call it all a crazy mistake. You certainly hadn’t expected him to act as though waking up with you naked in his arms was the most natural thing in the world.

You spend the day alternating between overthinking and relishing the memories of Jake’s hands on you. Good god, had you been missing out on that all along? He had seemed so casual about it all, as though it was simply a given that he would finger you to climax if that’s what you wanted.

You have to take a cold shower shortly after Jake leaves, partly to calm yourself down and partly to wash off the scent of Jake that still clings to you. If your dull human nose can pick up on it, you can only imagine that you must stink to a Na’vi, so you make sure to scrub at yourself with your berry-scented shower gel until you smell of nothing but artificial human soap.

You’re still a little nervous when you wander into the village later that day, but you’re greeted as enthusiastically as ever by the whole Sully family. Jake ruffles your hair and winks at you before clapping Neteyam on the shoulder and leading him off towards the cookfire to gather meat for the family.

You’re left with Kiri and Lo’ak, and you can’t help but smile as the kids start to shepherd you towards the usual spot where you all usually take meals.

“– and then Lo’ak fell all the way down and landed flat on his back,” Kiri is telling you a story with great relish, walking close to you. “And all the girls he had been trying to impress thought it was so funny–”

“It was on purpose.” Lo’ak blusters, picking up the pace so that he can come up on your other side and interject. “I was trying to make them laugh–”

“Oh yeah? Did you mean to burst into tears too–?”

“Shut up!” Lo’ak hisses at his sister, but it comes out as more of a whine. “I did not burst into tears!”

The familiar sound of their bickering soothes away the last of your nerves. Your shoulders loosen, and you start to smile as you follow the kids towards their usual spot for dinner. Neytiri is already sitting there with Tuk, brushing back her youngest daughter’s hair and murmuring softly to her.

Your stomach clenches at the sight of her; you have no idea how she’s going to react to you, and you have no idea how you should act around her. You’re still trying to wrap your head around the fact that Jake pleasuring you like that had been her idea, and you feel yourself start to sweat at the thought that she might act differently around you now.

As Kiri and Lo’ak approach the log where their mother is sitting, she looks up and smiles when she sees them. She really is very beautiful; her amber eyes are bright, the skin at the corner of her eyes crinkling up with joy at the sight of her children. She’s graceful even when she’s sitting down, her long limbs corded with lithe muscle as she stretches out next to Tuk.

Just the sight of her makes you feel clumsy and ungainly, and you feel your cheeks heat as you approach.

Her eyes flick from her kids to you where you’re following behind them, and you tense a little as you wait for her reaction. To your surprise, her face doesn’t contort into an expression of disgust like you had been expecting – her smile gets smaller, almost knowing, but no less genuine as you come to a halt by the log she’s sitting on.

Lo’ak and Kiri are still bickering as they flop down on a log next to their mother’s, but Neytiri is still looking at you. Her eyes flicker from your head to your toes rapidly, as though checking you for injuries.

You’re wearing the Na’vi clothes that have been gifted to you again today, and you shift a little self-consciously under her gaze. You feel more exposed than ever, and you’re hyper-aware of the subtle bruising around your tits from Jake’s teeth; you just pray that they’re not obvious to anyone else.

Neytiri reaches out to you, and you blink in bewilderment as she grabs at a string of broken beads on your top that you hadn’t even noticed before now. She peers at it critically, before looking up to your face with a small frown. For a moment you wonder if she’s angry at you, and feel your stomach sink rapidly until she speaks.

“He was gentle?” She asks quietly, and you twitch when her palm grazes the side of your breast. “He forgets himself, sometimes, and you are very weak.”

“I–” Your tongue feels too large in your mouth. You stumble over your words clumsily; your whole world has narrowed down to that one, confusing point of contact between Neytiri’s hand and the underside of your tit as she studies the broken string of beads. “He was– it was good.”

Neytiri hums, and you swear her mouth twitches as though she’s holding back a laugh. “You should have asked for it earlier. You know we would not have left you feeling neglected.”

You make an odd noise in the back of your throat, mortified. You dart a panicked look towards the kids, but Tuk has wandered over to Lo’ak and Kiri and they’re all laughing together a few feet away, blissfully ignorant of your conversation.

“I– I didn’t–”

Neytiri chooses to ignore your fumbling, instead leaning down closer to your chest so that she can tie the snapped string of your top. The back of her hand brushes over your nipple and you tremble, confused as warmth blooms in your lower belly.

“You have needs that must be met,” Neytiri murmurs, her voice low enough that it’s just for you. “You do not need to look elsewhere to have them maintained.”

Your heart leaps and your stomach flutters, and you hurriedly lower your gaze. This is far from the reaction you had expected from her, and it makes you nervous.

Stop it, you think furiously to yourself. They’re your friends! They’re married!

“Right.” You choke out, cheeks burning. “I– um… thanks.”

She nods, but then pauses. Her face is hovering close to your chest so that she can look closely at the snapped string of beads on your top, but she leans even closer as her nostrils flare. A small frown creases her brow, and her pretty golden eyes snap up to look at you. She’s so intense, and being caught up in her gaze like this has you feeling like a fly trapped in amber.

“You have used the demon soap.” She notes, still frowning.

One of her knuckles brush over your nipple as she fiddles with mending your top, and you end up jolting at the sensation as blood rushes to your face. You can only pray that she didn’t notice your reaction.

“Oh, yeah.” You choke out a reedy laugh. You know that the Na’vi don’t like the artificial, acrid smell of human soap, but you had figured it was the best way to get the scent of your activities from the night before off you. “I, uh… I reeked of Jake. Thought it would be best to wash it off before, um… coming back to the village.”

Neytiri hums with a frown, and with one last deft movement of her fingers, the broken tie on your top has been temporarily mended. However her hands linger somewhat strangely, and when she withdraws from you her wrist ends up rubbing a little oddly over the side of your neck. You have no idea what’s going on, and you have no idea how you should be reacting.

All you can do is swallow thickly, your throat bobbing against the warm skin of Neytiri’s wrist before she pulls away from you.

“It is good that Jake pleased you,” She says simply, turning her head to look casually towards the fire. When you follow her gaze, you see that Jake and Neteyam are returning from the cookfire with their hands full of food. “I worried that he would not.”

That makes you choke out a surprised laugh. “Wow. No faith in his abilities, huh?”

“It is not that,” Neytiri hums, though you can see the corner of her mouth curl in a repressed smile. “He was watching you all evening, getting worked up. I thought he may not be able to last long enough to satisfy you fully.”

That makes you laugh properly, surprised enough that you’re not able to hide your delight at hearing Neytiri roasting Jake. Your conversations with Neytiri alone don’t often poke fun at Jake, and you feel oddly thrilled by it. She offers you a small smirking smile, and you bite at your lip shyly as you return it.

You’re still stifling laughter when Jake and Neteyam reach you all again; Jake steps over to you and Neytiri as Neteyam carries his food over to the other kids.

“Hey, what’re my girls giggling about?” Jake drawls, sitting heavily next to you on the log. He’s holding several nikt'chey filled with sweet meat and vegetables in one large hand, and a little wooden carved bowl full of teylu in the other.

Neytiri grabs at a plant-based nikt'chey, but instead of eating it she passes it to you. You smile, flattered; teylu is an important food for the Na’vi, but you’ve never enjoyed the texture of the little grub worms. You’ve spent so many years sharing meals with the Sully’s, but it still surprises you when she shows that she’s noticed your preferences.

“I was asking about your performance,” Neytiri says casually, her expression growing coy. “Tawtute believes you could have been better.”

If that pricks at Jake’s pride, he doesn’t show it. He just laughs as though Neytiri has told a very funny joke, before he turns to you. He wraps an arm around your waist and hauls you up into his lap, still clutching his food in the other hand – the motion is so familiar for the both of you that he’s able to situate you across his thighs with ease, even one-handed.

Jake has been pulling you into his lap at mealtimes for a long time now, and yet this time feels different. His hand lingers around your waist, coasts briefly over your thigh. He’s always been touchy, but this time your brain keeps offering up memories from the night before; his big hot hands touching you, his mouth devouring you, his low voice murmuring insistently in your ear.

Your face burns, but you’re determined not to show it. You don’t want to be the one to make this weird.

“Now I know that’s a lie,” Jake croons, his breath warm on the back of your ear as he leans towards Neytiri. “You should have heard her cry–”

“Oh my god,” You hiss, whirling in Jake’s lap to slap at his chest hard enough that your hand stings. “I did not cry, you unbearable jackass–”

“It is normal to be overwhelmed by pleasure after so long of…” Neytiri pauses, her brow pinching just slightly as though she’s trying to remember specific phrasing that she’s heard before. “‘Not getting any.’”

Your jaw actually drops. The sound of the human phrase dropping from her lips is jarring, even more so when you know that it’s Jake she heard it from.

“Oh, you guys are the worst.” You grumble, curling into yourself in mortification.

The two of them snicker together as you scowl, and Jake pats your flank as though trying to calm an irritated cat. Neytiri, at least, bites at her lip and tries to hide her amusement.

“No shame in it, honey,” Jake says, and you can hear the stupid grin in his voice. “I’m just very good.”

You roll your eyes so hard that it almost makes you dizzy, and when you glance to the side you see that Neytiri has a similar expression on her face; this time, it’s your turn to laugh with her, with Jake as the subject of your snickering.

“Do not get too confident, ma Jake,” Neytiri croons, leaning in so that she’s resting her body against his side. “You have only pleasured her once, and it cannot have been that good – she has not said much about it.”

Jake makes a sound of pure offense even as he wraps the arm that’s not holding you around Neytiri’s shoulders. “What? Nah, she loved it. C’mon, honey, help me out here.”

Neytiri’s eyes slide to you as she takes a dainty bite of her food, and you can see the conspiratorial little smile that she’s trying to hide. Your own lips start to twitch in response, and you hide your own reaction behind your nikt'chey.

“Oh,” You say lightly, keeping your expression as neutral as possible. “He was okay.”

Instead of wounding his pride, your ribbing just makes him laugh. His arm tightens around your belly, holding you close to his chest as he ruffles Neytiri’s hair – she hisses playfully at him, though he just grins at her.

“Oh, you asshole,” He murmurs into your ear, his chest rumbling against your back as his bulk looms over you, “What, I wasn’t nice enough to you? I wouldn’t have known it from all the whimpering.”

Blood rushes to your face, and you barely suppress the urge to hide your face completely in your hands. You hold the nikt'chey up in front of your masked face in an attempt to hide, mortified when Neytiri chuckles softly.

“Alright,” She says, reaching out to pat at your thigh with her large, slender hand. “Enough. Tawtute is embarrassed.”

Jake just snickers, but mercifully gives up on his playful bantering in favour of taking a large bite of his own nikt'chey. His hand stays firmly planted across your middle, large thumb stroking over your exposed skin there every couple of moments. His touchiness isn’t anything new, but your skin is hot and sensitive and you have to fight back shivers every time he caresses your bare skin. Your stomach is alive with butterflies, shy arousal simmering at a low boil deep in your belly.

You’re antsy, and it’s only made worse by the fact that Neytiri still hasn’t removed her hand from your thigh. It just lingers there as she leans into Jake’s side, as though it’s just perfectly natural and comfortable for her to allow her touch to idle around the exposed skin of your thigh.

You wonder distantly if you’re reading too much into this. Jake has always been touchy, and it’s not that unusual that Neytiri has left her large, soft palm resting against the expanse of your thigh with her fingers curling absently around the sensitive skin of your inner knee.

Sure, it might feel as though you’re boiling up a little on the inside from the overwhelming contact of their big hands on your exposed body, but you push your reaction down the best you can. Maybe you’re just super conscious now that the nature of your relationship has changed. It seems like you’re the only one that feels that shift though, because Jake and Neytiri are so casual about the way they’re touching you, as though nothing has changed at all.

You’re so busy trying to appear calm and measured and entirely unaffected that you hardly notice when Jake pauses his eating to turn his face towards you with a curious frown. He sniffs at you once, twice, before glancing towards Neytiri and raising an eyebrow with a barely stifled smirk.

She just blinks back at him innocently, though there’s an unmistakable look of mischief about her eyes – whatever they’re communicating about silently, Jake seems to find it amusing.

The interaction flies mostly over your head, too distracted with the way Jake’s thigh flexes beneath you when he shifts on the log and the way Neytiri has started to draw absent-minded little patterns around your kneecap. While Jake has always been clingy, Neytiri has always been more reserved in herself. Now, with her touching you like this, you feel absolutely thrown. It’s like someone has turned on a white noise machine in your head; all you can hear is static.

“Sa’nu,” Tuk warbles from a few feet away. “Lo’ak is being mean to me.”

“I am not! Tuk, stop being such a snitch–”

Neytiri’s eyes turn sharp, and she whirls to glare at her children. “What is happening over there?”

Jake rests his chin on your shoulder as he allows his wife to take the lead on dealing with the children. It’s comfortable, and you allow yourself to melt back into his embrace, like usual. Everything feels so normal, as though last night was just a fever dream.

As Neytiri scolds the children, Jake turns his face so that his flat, cat-like nose is nuzzling into your temple. It’s almost like he’s heard your thoughts and wants to brush them away.

“You okay?” Jake murmurs in your ear. “Last night wasn’t too much?”

You laugh a little wheezily. “No, it– no. It was… it was great. I was only joking, before.”

“Yeah, I know.” He snorts, “You’ve never been a good liar, anyway.”

“Fuck off,” You grumble, wriggling on his lap and nudging your elbow back into his stomach. He groans, but you can tell he’s exaggerating the amount of pain he’s in. “Your dick isn’t nearly as big as your head is, you know that?”

Jake lets out a startled, full-belly laugh at that, his head tilting back as his arm tightens around your middle. He seems to find that very amusing, and he’s still snickering when he leans in to press a kiss to your temple under the strap of your mask.

Your stomach trembles a little, and you can’t help yourself from leaning back into the warmth of his chest – Jake has always expressed his affection physically, satisfying your own desperate skin hunger, but now that you’ve experienced his touch more intimately you find yourself craving more in a way that’s beginning to freak you out a little. You’ve never really thought about Jake like this before, and you can’t help but feel guilty.

After all, you’re the one who’s looking at him differently now – as far as you’re aware, nothing has changed for Jake. Though he seems very flirty, that’s the way he always is! The only reason he had touched you like that last night was because he wanted to help you out.

Neytiri turns back from the children after giving them one last warning glare, shuffling a little closer and tilting her head so she’s peering down at you. Her hand is still on your knee; it hadn’t shifted an inch even when she had turned to hiss at the children, and now she squeezes at it a little to get your attention.

“What is funny?” She wonders.

You clear your throat, a little flustered, and mutter, “Your husband is a moron.”

Neytiri’s lips twitch, and she darts an amused look over your head at Jake as his head looms over your shoulder.

“Yes,” She agrees. “He is a skxawng.”

“Alright, alright,” Jake says hastily, adjusting you on his lap so that you’re pulled right back against his chest, “No ganging up on me, thanks. Besides, I know you both love me.”

Neytiri makes eye contact with you, then gives you a conspiratorial little eye roll. You giggle, impossibly pleased with the sense of camaraderie between the two of you. You even push your knee a little further into her hand, enjoying the contact.

“Will there be more dancing later?” You wonder, turning to look back at Neytiri with a smile. You remember the wondrous dancing from the night before, and find yourself hoping to catch a glimpse of the mating season dancing once more.

Neytiri hesitates, her head tilting to the side like she’s confused. “You are very interested in mating season,” She says slowly. “Even still.” She turns and gives Jake a strange look – one that’s almost chiding.

You’re not sure you know what she means, so you just shrug. “The dancing was pretty. I enjoyed watching it.”

Neytiri hums thoughtfully, her mouth twitching. Her chiding expression turns playful, and she leans in to murmur to you, “We will dance for you later, if you wish to see it.”

You almost do a double take at that, eyes growing wide as you choke on your own saliva in surprise. Behind you, Jake laughs at your reaction, his fingers stroking absently over the soft skin of your belly. It takes a moment for you to register that Neytiri must have been joking, and then you laugh nervously, unsure how to respond.

Jake just snickers, and leans over to nudge at Neytiri’s shoulder. You’re still not used to how beautiful Jake and Neytiri are, how perfectly matched. They ebb and flow against each other, always communicating with just looks or gestures. Jake has always been pure raw passion, while Neytiri is more intimate and reserved about her emotions. They compliment each other so well, something you’ve always admired about them.

You’ve always thought that you would love to find something like that for yourself, but now it’s like your thoughts have taken a turn. Now it’s like you’re looking at them and wanting them; it feels as though your brain is rotting from the inside out.

The village is bustling full of life, the smell of sweet meat sizzling and the sounds of the People laughing and children squealing filling the air for dinnertime. You force yourself to relax in Jake’s arms, trying to act casual in the face of his and Neytiri’s teasing – fucking your friend was one thing, but now you find yourself utterly flustered at the thought of him and his wife dancing for you, of thinking about where things might go from there.

It’s a mercy when Lo’ak shuffles over, his presence promptly putting an end to any suggestive conversation. You’re almost desperately grateful; you don’t think you’d be able to survive much more of their teasing.

Lo’ak is quiet when he settles next to Jake, a little moody. It seems that he’s come over less because he actually wants to talk to his parents, and more because he’s trying to escape Kiri, who is still teasing him over whatever embarrassing mistake he had made while training.

Undeterred by Lo’ak’s scowl, you lean over and give him a little smile. You’ve always had a soft spot for Lo’ak – you love all the Sully kids, of course, but Lo’ak has always been your secret little favourite. The kid is funny, so like Jake, and so starved for recognition in a way that you recognise from yourself. When you reach out to pat his head, he leans into your touch with a little pout.

“Are they bullying you?” You ask teasingly, brushing his braids back in an attempt to neaten them.

Lo’ak just scowls even fiercer, but he doesn’t move away from your hand. “Kiri’s being an asshole.”

“Hey!” Jake says sharply. “Don’t talk like that about your sister.”

You offer Lo’ak a sympathetic little smile, before leaning over to whisper, “Are you still upset about falling out of that tree?”

Lo’ak’s ears pin back as he winces, clearly embarrassed. “I didn’t fall. I slipped.”

“Ah,” You murmur, fighting a smile. “Of course. Completely different.”

From there, the evening mellows into a familiar, laid-back atmosphere that you’re familiar with. Spending time with the Sullys like this has always been easy, and you find yourself almost deliriously relieved that nothing has changed. You had been so anxious that sleeping with Jake would have totally ruined the dynamic between you and the whole family.

To tell the truth, you’re not quite sure what to make of the fact that it hasn’t.

You sit sprawled across Jake’s lap all evening, with one of Neytiri’s hands settled over your knee. Jake is always pulling you across his large striped thighs, supporting you with a massive arm around your back, but this somehow feels even more intimate than usual; or maybe it’s all in your head.

You try not to think too hard about it. After everyone has finished eating, the children all come to gather around Jake as he tells stories. Both you and Neytiri exchange eyerolls frequently – Jake is predictable, and always chooses the same tales to tell.

“—Your mother tried to kill me when we first met. She thought I was a moron, but I thought she was beautiful.”

Tuk looks absolutely enchanted by the story, despite having heard it a hundred times. Even Kiri, at the peak of her teenage angst, is listening with a little smile on her face.

Neytiri snorts, but she’s smiling too. “I still think you are a moron, yawntu.”

The kids laugh, and you hide a smile of your own. You feel at home here, with Jake’s family like this. That usual sense of pervasive loneliness that usually haunts you is entirely absent, chased away by Jake and Neytiri’s warm touches.

“What about um’ma?” Tuk asks, shifting closer with a bright smile on her face as she turns her attention towards you. “Tell us about how you met um’ma, dad!”

You had been getting sleepy, but her question wakes you right up. The kids have always called you um’ma, for as long as you can remember. It’s like an affectionate name for mom, as far as you’re aware. You’ve always sort of assumed that it’s somewhat teasing. You know it’s not entirely unusual for Na’vi children to refer to older female figures in affectionate terms like that – the school children had called Grace sa’nok, a much more formal name.

“Oh, god,” You breathe with a little wince. “No, that’s not–”

But it’s too late. Jake is only delighted to tell that story, too.

“The first time we met, your um’ma walked right past me.” Jake says, launching into his story before you can stop him. “I was trying to catch her attention, and she didn’t even look at me once.”

“I didn’t see you–!” You attempt to protest, but Jake steamrolls ahead.

“I was in my wheelchair, so I was shorter than her–”

“Shorter than um’ma?” Tuk whispers in what sounds like bewilderment, her big eyes swinging towards you as if she wants to double-check your height.

“–and she didn’t see me when she turned around, so she actually elbowed me in the face when I tried to get closer to her to talk to her. Gave me a bloody nose and everything.”

To your horror, the kids are acting as if they’re already heard this before. Neteyam is nodding along with Jake, and Lo’ak is already snickering. Tuk looks as enchanted with this story as she did with Jake’s story about meeting their mother, starry-eyed as she leans on Kiri. Your stomach flips – how often has Jake told them this story?

“I was trying to impress her, and she didn’t even look at me once.” Jake is still laughing, leaning forward over your shoulder so he can see his kids properly. “So you can imagine how embarrassed I was, after the pretty girl I had been trying to chat up completely ignores me and then nearly breaks my goddamn nose–”

You blink, startled. What?

Jake has teased you about your first meeting several times over the years, always delighting in the fact that you had been so awkwardly clumsy, but you had never actually heard him recount the full thing from start to finish before. You had certainly never heard it told like that before.

“You were flirting with me?” You blurt out. For a moment you’re worried that you had misinterpreted what he meant and that he might laugh at you, but no such thing happens.

Instead, Jake tips his head back and lets out a groaned little sigh. “Oh, come on. You didn’t even notice?”

Lo’ak looks delighted with this news, and nudges at Neteyam. “Dude! Dad has no game!”

Jake shoots Lo’ak an irritated sort of look, his pride clearly somewhat stung, but his youngest son doesn’t even seem to notice. Lo’ak seems to be too busy reveling in the fact that his father isn’t as smooth as he thought; in fact, he looks far too pleased about this little revelation.

“I have loads of game.” Jake argues, turning to the rest of his family as though seeking backup. Neytiri looks down, visibly hiding a smirk, and says nothing at all. “Your um’ma is just a difficult woman to impress.”

You’re still gawking at him, bewildered by the turn of the conversation. You’ve been friends with Jake for a long time, and he’s always been playfully flirty – that’s just his character. He makes cheeky jokes, he’s touchy, he calls you teasing nicknames, he gives you affectionate little kisses. That’s just Jake! He’s always been like this! And yet right now, he sounds as though he’s being serious about his flirting.

You look at Neytiri, still a little bewildered, but she has a wry sort of smile on her face as Jake defends himself. And that confuses you even more. Her hand is still on your thigh, her fingers stroking absently over the soft skin there. The caress is sure and unhurried; it’s a kind of patience possessed by predators who are sure of their prey. You’ve never experienced a touch like this from Neytiri before. Your skin is a little too tight, your breaths a little too shallow.

You feel like you’re losing your mind. It’s almost a relief when you’re interrupted, although you hardly even notice Ola’netu’s approaching figure until he’s stopped only a few feet from where you’re all sitting.

It’s Neytiri that notices him first, as evidenced by the way her hand tightens around your thigh, but you soon feel Jake tense beneath you as well.

“Olo’eyktan,” Ola’netu greets, his head dipping as he greets Jake with the traditional greeting gesture. “I see you.”

Jake’s hands flex at your hips, but he offers Ola’netu a stiffly polite smile all the same. Foregoing any greeting of his own, Jake simply says, “What can I do for you?”

Ola’netu straightens, and his big golden eyes land squarely on you. It’s unnerving to be on the receiving end of his sharp gaze, and you swallow nervously as your cheeks flare red. It’s… a surprisingly bold move on his part, approaching you like this when you’re having dinner with the Sully’s. Jake has always been a little overprotective of you, on account of you being so much smaller and more fragile, and right now his brow is drawing into a scowl that’s honestly intimidating.

“I wish to speak to tawtute.” Ola’netu says. Though his tone is perfectly polite, the fact that he’s not actually looking at Jake is clearly making your friend antsy; he shifts under you, adjusting you on his lap, and holds you tight.

The silence that follows is awkward. You had been so blown away by the exciting strangeness of having messed around with Jake, and then the way that Neytiri had been caressing you, that you had forgotten about Ola’netu entirely.

At your side, Lo’ak straightens up from where he had been slouching lazily. He’s got a little frown on his face, though he’s clearly a little confused, and he looks so much like Jake in that moment that it’s a little bewildering. He leans in a bit closer to you where you’re sitting on Jake’s lap, and all of a sudden it’s like you have two Sully guard dogs with their ears pricked up.

“Yeah,” You say, suddenly awkward. “Right, of course.”

It’s a bit of a struggle to get out of Jake’s lap. Not only do you have his hands holding onto your waist, but Neytiri is holding your thigh and Lo’ak keeps shuffling closer into your space. You actually have to practically worm your way out of their grip, before you stand in front of them all panting with the effort. You scowl a little at Jake, and he purses his lips in that way he does when he’s annoyed about something before he offers you a quick shrug.

Ola’netu leads you a couple of steps away from the family, before stopping just out of earshot and turning to you with a smile. He even bends down so that he’s at eye level with you. The village is bustling full of life, and the sounds of the People laughing and children squealing fill the air. Despite the hive of activity around you, you’re hyper aware of the stares of the entire Sully family burning into your back.

Ola’netu must notice the fact that the two of you are being watched closely, but he gives no indication of it. “I am pleased to see you here. Can I get you food?”

“Oh,” You get a little flustered at his offer, trying hard not to look over your shoulder at the Sullys. “Um… I’ve already eaten.”

Ola’netu glances over your shoulder, presumably looking at Jake, before his eyes fall back to your face. It’s a little difficult to read him; there’s a friendly little smile on his face, but there’s a small furrow in his brow that suggests he’s confused.

“Jakesully watches you closely.” He notes, his tone careful. “He is… always looking.”

“Oh, he’s a little protective.” You laugh nervously. “Don’t mind him.”

Ola’netu’s eyes linger on your face a moment. There’s a beat of silence as nostrils flare; you’ve seen Jake do this often enough to realise that he’s scenting you. It’s an embarrassing thought, made even worse when his brows furrow.

“Ah.” He says after a moment, his head tilting a little. He looks confused, as though he doesn’t quite know what to make of you. “He has scent-marked you. Neytiri too.”

Your hand flies up to hold your neck. “They what?”

Ola’netu hums, and reaches out to brush his fingers over the spot where Neytiri’s wrist had brushed earlier. Had that been an accident? Surely she would never have done such a thing on purpose.

He’s still watching your face closely. “I do not want to… misunderstand. You always smell of Jakesully but… they have not yet claimed you?”

You nearly do a double take. Claimed you? You don’t even know how to begin unpacking that. You wonder if there’s some sort of cultural nuance that you’re missing here. Your fluency in the Na’vi language is advanced, but even still you sometimes mistranslate or misunderstand things.

“Jake is my best friend.” You say with an awkward smile, hoping that answers his question.

You think of the way Jake had stuffed your pussy full with his fingers the night before, and the way Neytiri had been so subtly brushing her fingers over your tits earlier that evening, and you wonder how on earth to explain your relationship with them. Not even you fully understand it. They’re your friends, but even you have to admit that it often feels like… more than that. They feel like home in a way that the human outpost never has, and yet you have to admit that the dynamic feels a little different now.

“They look after me.” You continue stupidly. It’s the only way you can think of to explain.

Ola’netu looks thoughtful, but he nods slowly. “I see. But they have not…”

As Ola’netu trails off, his brow furrows in a contemplative frown. It seems as though he’s thinking about his next words very carefully.

You dart a quick glance over your shoulder. It’s not much of a surprise to find Jake and Neytiri watching you closely (just like they had the last time Ola’netu had approached you), but it is somewhat of a surprise to see that the kids are all watching you with hawk-like eyes as well. You offer them an awkward, close-mouthed smile to try and ease the tension. The only one who returns it is Tuk, who throws in a cute little wave as well.

Finally, Ola’netu seems to find his words. “They have not yet mated with you, have they? I cannot… I cannot tell from your scent. You smell like Jakesully… but you always smell of him.”

Your mouth flaps open and closed moronically. Oh god. The bold line of questioning leaves you completely flustered. You hadn’t expected him to be so forthright about things, and you’re certainly not prepared to admit that you had let Jake finger you until you were limp and drooling in his arms only the night before.

“I… I don’t- I mean, no, they haven’t mated with me.” You say when you finally gather yourself enough to answer. “They’re- they’re mated with each other!”

That makes Ola’netu crack a smile, as though amused by your reaction.

“It is not unusual for a mated pair to take on a third. Jake and Neytiri have not discussed this with you?” Ola’netu asks. When you shake your head, his big golden eyes dart over your shoulder towards where Jake and Neytiri are sitting behind you. “I had thought… they act as though…”

Ola’netu doesn’t finish that thought, though you wait for him to. The resulting silence is a little awkward, but then Ola’netu creeps forward a little. He doesn’t reach for you, though it looks as though he’s thinking about it.

You shift on your feet a little awkwardly, and scratch at your elbow. Now that you’re actually in front of Ola’netu, you feel incredibly awkward. You’ve been looking at the Na’vi in a rather hungry way for a while now, and yet now that you’re faced with a male who actually seems interested in you, all you can think about is the way Jake had touched you the night before.

It’s like the floodgates have opened inside your brain. You’ve been around Jake and Neytiri for years now, and yet now you feel shivery and bubbly with simmering arousal after experiencing their attention all evening. You wonder if there’s something wrong with you.

This is your best friend and his wife! You feel like a weirdo for thinking about them like that.

“You are interested in Na’vi?” Ola’netu’s tail lashes behind him as he watches you.

You swallow thickly. Oh, you feel totally out of your depth now. You can feel the eyes of the Sullys boring into you as you speak with Ola’netu; you’re just grateful they can’t hear what you’re saying, because you don’t think you’d be able to live the embarrassment down.

“Um… Yeah.” You say faintly.

Your brain decides unhelpfully to offer up memories of Jake’s big hands and pretty blue skin from the night before, and the ridiculous size of his dick. Jake may have only touched you like that so that you could experience being with a Na’vi for the first time, but you think he may also have unintentionally ruined you for anyone else. Your mind just keeps replaying the encounter in your head like it’s a damn slideshow.

“But… you do not accept Jakesully and Neytiri?” Ola’netu speaks slowly, as though approaching a sensitive topic.

All you can do is blink, wondering if you’re misunderstanding what he’s asking you. It sounds as though he thinks that you’re the one making the final decision here, as though you’re the one with the power. The thought is comical.

“I’m not sure I…” You trail off, bewildered. “What do you mean ‘accept’ them?”

“As mates. They seem to be waiting for your decision.” Ola’netu murmurs, his eyes darting back over your shoulder towards when Jake and Neytiri are no doubt still watching. “But you must be a difficult creature to impress.”

That’s so similar to what Jake had said earlier that you find yourself floundering. That couldn’t have been what Jake had meant though, surely? You feel as though you’ve been struck dumb – the connotations of what Ola’netu is suggesting is almost more than you can handle, and yet he keeps on talking before you can actually wrap your head around it.

“Perhaps it is that you are not ready to take on a mate?” Ola’netu says, his big golden eyes peering into your face. It seems as though he’s having difficulty assessing your thoughts thanks to your alien human features. “I, too, am not ready for a mate. But if it is exploring you are interested in–”

You’re hardly listening to a word he says. You think back rather frantically to every reaction you’ve had with Jake and Neytiri for the past several years. It’s true that you’ve always been close, probably closer than any other relationship you’ve ever had in your life.

You spend almost all of your time with them when you’re not at the human outpost, you sleep in their bed when you stay over with them, their children call you um’ma. And that’s not to mention the tactile nature of your relationship with Jake. But that’s how Jake has always been, even when he was human!

Okay… maybe you can see where Ola’netu’s coming from with his assumptions.

“Wait,” You choke out, interrupting whatever the hell Ola’netu had been saying. “Hang on, are you… are you saying that everyone thinks that I’m– that Jake and Neytiri are–” You can’t even figure out how to put your thoughts into words. You end up just standing there, gawping at Ola’netu like an idiot as your brain tries to sort all of this out.

Ola’netu frowns, tilting his head in honest confusion. “I had thought that you were mated for many years. But maybe they are just courting you?”

You positively goggle at him, struck dumb. You don’t think you could form a reply even if you wanted to.

It should be a ridiculous notion. Jake has been your friend for years! Sure, you might be closer than most friends, but that’s just how you two have always been. And Neytiri has become your friend too, treating you like family and even welcoming you into her and Jake’s bed whenever you happen to stay the night. If Ola’netu had told you this a week ago, you might have even laughed at his questions. But now, after your experimentation with Jake and all of his and Neytiri’s suggestive touches and comments today, you find yourself baffled.

You never get the chance to respond. Footsteps sound from behind you, and Ola’netu’s eyes flicker above your head as a warm body presses close to your back. You glance over your shoulder, expecting to see Jake – you’re surprised to find that it’s Neytiri who’s standing at your back, watching Ola’netu with sharp eyes.

“Come,” Neytiri murmurs to you, but her eyes remain fixed on Ola’netu. “You have not finished eating.”

You hesitate for a moment, staring up at her. You wonder if you’re losing your mind – Neytiri is so beautiful, her features sharp and bold and her golden eyes intense as she stares down Ola’netu. There’s an awkward silence, but then you start to nod.

“I’ll, um… see you later.” You say to Ola’netu, but your heart’s not in it. You’re distracted, sending uncertain glances up at Neytiri. Ola’netu nods and raises a hand to wave, but you’re already stepping after Neytiri as she leads you back towards the family with a large slender hand pressed between your shoulderblades.

Jake is sitting on the log where you left him, but he’s leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees as he watches you return with Neytiri. He’s frowning, his ears twitching; he looks strangely alert, although some of the stiffness in his shoulders eases as you and Neytiri join him again. The kids are all gathered nearby, and you can see them exchanging looks with each other in a little silent conversation.

You feel embarrassed that they all just witnessed you chatting with Ola’netu, but you try to shake it off. You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, after all, and it’s not like they heard you.

“What was that all about, sweetheart?” Jake asks when you get close enough, already reaching out to try and pull you into his lap.

But for the first time, possibly ever, you resist. You pull your arm back, refusing to go, and Jake blinks at you in bewilderment. You feel sort of guilty, but your head is spinning so fast that you feel dizzy – you need space, and time to think and sort out all of these bizarre thoughts and revelations.

“I’m… I’m going to head to bed, I think.” You blurt, taking a step back.

Hurt flashes across Jake’s face, and he sits up straighter. In all your years of knowing each other, you’ve never pushed Jake away like this.

“You are not staying with us tonight?” Neytiri asks with a discontented frown. She sits down next to Jake on the log, and you think you see her nudge him hard in the side.

You shake your head, swallowing thickly. Normally, you’d be only too delighted to spend the night, but everything has happened so fast and you need time to think.

“No, I’ll just… I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You murmur, forcing a smile as you step back.

Your expression can’t be very convincing, because the kids exchange another look before turning to look at their parents. Lo’ak stands, looking between his parents before turning to look at you.

“I’ll walk you back, um’ma–” He starts to say, but he’s cut off when Neytiri grabs his shoulder and pulls him back down.

Jake stands instead, and rests his hand on your shoulder. “I’ll walk you back.” He says, squeezing lightly.

You can’t bring yourself to refuse the offer — the forests of Pandora are deadly for a human alone, and you can’t afford to go without an escort. You bite your lip, before nodding jerkily. This is fine. Jake is just looking out for you as a friend, like he always is. You’re the one that’s acting weird! You need to pull yourself together.

The walk home is awkwardly silent. You’re lost in your thoughts, replaying every interaction you’ve had this evening and picking them apart obsessively in your head. Meanwhile, Jake ambles along at your side, matching your pace perfectly. He’s equally as quiet, but he keeps darting looks at you out of the corner of his eyes. Jake is many things, but he’s never been subtle.

By the time you reach the outpost, hardly a word has been shared between the two of you. Jake has started tapping his fingers against his thigh, and the frequency of his glances have increased yet again. He clears his throat, and finally speaks up.

“So, uh… did you enjoy dinner, honey?” He asks. The levity in his voice is rather forced, and it contrasts with the little frown creasing his forehead.

You hum, but you’re distracted. “Mm, sure. It was fine.”

Jake bites at his lip for a second, obviously thinking. His nose twitches, nostrils flaring. He leans a little closer, and you can see his pretty golden eyes dart to your neck.

“Did he touch you there?” Jaks asks. A scowl creases his brow as he reaches out to brush his fingers over your throat, right where Ola’netu had touched where Neytiri had scented.

You jerk back, and then it’s like the floodgates open. You’re unable to keep your thoughts to yourself any longer.

“What the fuck is going on, Jake?” You blurt, eyes wide and bewildered as you take a step back. “I don’t– I’m so confused. Last night was– but then today! You were so– and then Neytiri as well! I don’t understand, and then Ola’netu said– but I don’t get it–”

Jake’s expression drops, all pretence at cheerfulness abandoned. He takes a knee instantly to put himself down at your level, his eyes wide and a little panicked.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down, sweetheart. What’s the problem? Deep breath.” He says, his voice low and soothing as he tries to shush you. He reaches out and puts his hands on your shoulders, his thumbs stroking delicately over your skin.

You push his hands away, still reeling. “Ola’netu thought we were mates. As in, you, Neytiri, and me.”

You wait for a moment, and allow that to sink in. You’re not entirely certain what you’re expecting his reaction to be; will he laugh at that ridiculous notion? Will he be horrified? Disgusted?

But instead, Jake’s face wobbles, as though he can’t hide his expression fast enough.

“He… and yet he was trying to put moves on you anyway?” He says, his nose scrunching in distaste as his fangs glint in the moonlight.

You gape at him. Jake misses the point so damn often it’s like he does it on purpose, but the fact that he doesn’t see that you’re being serious about this infuriates you.

“Jake!” You hiss, fists clenching at your side. “You’re not even listening–!”

“I’m listening, I’m listening–” Jake throws his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

“You said that you’d help me– or, or that you’d help me experience Na’vi… um, bodies, and it was… it was really good, but– I thought that– I don’t know, I just– you said that you were going to guide me through it before I went messing around with other Na’vi–”

Jake’s ears have folded back against the side of his head, and he listens to you with a frown. “I didn’t think you’d actually want to mess around with other Na’vi after I took care of you–”

“Oh what, you think your dick is just that good?” You fold your arms across your chest immediately, scowling.

Jake pauses for a moment, and you see his mouth begin to twitch into a smile. Your temper flares, and you glare furiously at him.

“Don’t you dare.” You warn, already knowing that he has some smart remark planned.

Jake breathes a soft laugh, but then hastily wipes his expression clean when he catches sight of the glint in your eye. He sighs, and reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. He looks a little ridiculous kneeling in the dirt and bending over so that he’s on your level, his expression open and conciliatory.

“Honey, I don’t understand what’s wrong–”

“Stop calling me honey!”

Jake gapes at you. You’ve never shouted at him like that; in all the years you’ve known each other, you’ve never gotten so mad at him that you’d yell, and you’ve never once told him to not call you by his cutesy nicknames. For the first time, Jake seems to actually realise that you’re in turmoil over here.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He says, and his voice has lost all trace of levity and humour. His expression is serious now, as though he’s dedicating his full attention to solving this problem.

You groan, reaching up to scrub at your face. You can barely even sort through your own thoughts in your head, you have no idea how to effectively go about communicating your feelings here. Throwing delicacy to the wind, you take a deep breath.

“I think I have a crush on you!” You yell close to hysterics. “And it’s ruining my life! I mean, fuck! I’m ruining everything just cause I can’t control myself–”

Jake’s ears twitch and his tail lashes wildly, as though he momentarily loses control of his extremities. His eyes go big and round, and you wonder if this is it – have you fucked everything up?

You had such a good thing going with the Sully family, and the thought of you ruining it just because you got flustered over Jake and Neytiri touching you in a way that was probably meant to be friendly anyway makes you feel ill.

“Baby, come on. We’re practically married anyway, a crush is a good thing.” Jake says, reaching out to take a hold of your elbows. He shuffles closer on his knees, his back bowing as he ducks down to look you in the face.

His expression is open and earnest, and there’s a faint trace of urgency in his eyes as he watches your reaction, and yet you find yourself rearing back and searching his face desperately for any hint of a lie.

“What do you–” You start to say uncertainly, but Jake keeps going before you can finish.

“The kids call you um’ma, you sleep in our bed, you do everything with us. You’re– I mean, we’re crazy for you. Can’t you see that?” Jake’s forehead is all creased up as he tries to keep your attention on him. “We’ve– we’ve been together for years–”

“What?” You blurt, bewildered. “We– no. We’ve been friends. You called me your best friend last night even when you had your goddamn face between my legs–”

“We always call each other that! It’s like… it’s like a bit or something–” He looks helplessly confused. “When you talked about Ola’netu I thought you were just curious, or that you just wanted to experiment or something–”

“Why would you not tell me!” You shriek, throwing your hands up in the air. You feel like an absolute madwoman, and Jake is regarding you like you’re something fragile about to shatter. “Oh my god– so, you and Neytiri have been married for years, and the whole time everyone has thought that I’m just some sad loser that follows the two of you everywhere–”

“No!” Jake says, and now he’s raising his voice too. “No, that’s not what I meant! I meant that you’ve been part of our family this whole time. You must have known that–”

Oh god, you’re getting overwhelmed. Confused and embarrassed tears begin pricking at your eyes, and Jake’s entire face drops when he realises that you’re about to cry.

“How would I have known that, Jake?!” You’re shouting loud enough that you’re certain the scientists inside the outpost can hear you, but mercifully no one comes to check what’s going on. “You’ve never said anything! The only time you’ve ever touched me in a way that suggests we’re more than friends is last night–!”

“It never occurred to me to say anything!” He’s clearly fighting not to raise his voice, trying to keep calm and composed. “I didn’t realise that you didn’t– baby, I have plenty of friends. How many of them spend the night in our bed, or sit on my lap? How many of them do I kiss–”

“I don’t know! You’re a friendly guy!” You yell back, painfully aware of how stupid you sound right now. “But– it doesn’t matter how touchy you were, you never actually did anything! And yet now you expect me to believe that you really wanted me all this time–”

“I didn’t think you were interested!” Jake bursts out. “You never talked about sex, not until last night! I’ve been hinting for years, I just thought that you weren’t into sex or intimacy that way– which is fine by the way, me and Neytiri never minded that, you know that we’d take you anyway we could have you–”

“I’m only human, Jake! I have– I have needs!” Your cheeks are absolutely burning, but you manage to hold eye contact with him. “I mean, you never said anything! So I’ve been sitting lonely in the human outpost while you and Neytiri have been having babies–”

“You–” Jake’s ears flick desperately, “You want a baby?”

“NO!” You yell, flustered and frustrated.

“What?” Jake breathes to himself so quietly that you nearly miss it. He shakes his head quickly, as though trying to clear his head. “Okay, okay, I screwed up, obviously. I should have been more upfront, I should have talked things through with you, I shouldn’t have just assumed we were all on the same page, I get that. But honey, you’ve always been a huge part of our family, we’ve been bringing you gifts of jewelry and clothes and food for years–”

Fuck, you feel so mixed up and confused. You run your hands frustratedly over your face, already shaking your head. Jake is getting steadily more frantic as he talks, clearly seeing that you’re beginning to withdraw.

He tries to take your hand but you step back, chewing at your lip.

“Stop. Jake, stop for a minute.” You groan, turning away from him so that you can breathe for a moment. Your breath rasps through your mask, and abruptly you feel incredibly claustrophobic.

You can’t wrap your head around any of this. Truthfully, you had been perfectly content with your life on Pandora up until a few weeks ago. Jake had satisfied your skin hunger with his caresses and cuddles, Neytiri had always made you feel welcomed around the village by providing you with pretty Omaticaya style clothes and jewelry, and you’ve always been so close to the children that you never craved any of your own. The fact that you had gone so long without any sexual intimacy is surely a testament to how happy you were with the way things were, and yet now you find your head spinning.

Does this mean that you could have had more this whole time? That all those months of craving sexual intimacy, of your growing interest in Na’vi biology, was entirely useless because you had two enormous sexy Na’vi who loved and cared for you very much just sitting right there the whole time thinking that you weren’t interested in sex? What the fuck?

“I can’t do this right now.” You whisper. You’re breathing heavily, as though all of your overthinking is taking an actual physical toll on you. “I have to– I can’t. I have to go.”

Jake’s expression drops entirely, and he pushes himself to stand, already reaching out after you. “Hang on, please. Look, kid, why don’t you just come back home, huh? We can talk things out properly, all three of us–”

You shake your head as you step backwards towards the outpost door. You probably should talk this out, but you just can’t right now. You need to get this mask off, and you need time to think to yourself about all of this and what it means for your relationships going forward.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jake.” You whisper.

You don’t let yourself listen to the way he calls your name as you escape into the outpost; you already know that if you see the look on his face, you’ll crumble.

The heavy door swings shut behind you, the hiss of the hydraulics drowning out the last of Jake’s pleas. You’re finally alone for the evening, but for a very long moment you can’t move at all. You just stay leaning against the heavy door as the oxygenation chamber begins to work, finally allowing you to tear your mask off and toss it to the floor.

You take deep, heavy breaths, before hiding your head in your hands. You can’t help but feel as though you’ve handled that rather poorly.

For the next several days, you don’t leave the outpost once. Ostensibly, you’re helping Norm with his research. In reality, you’re likely just getting underfoot and annoying all the other scientists that are actually trying to do work.

It’s cowardly and immature, but you just don’t think you can face Jake or Neytiri right now. You can’t stop thinking of the looks and whispers that the two of them had exchanged when you had talked about possibly being interested in Na’vi men and mating. You’re so damn embarrassed, and you feel like a total idiot.

And yet at the same time, you feel so prickly and irritated. After so many years of friendship, how ridiculous is it that they didn’t speak to you about this? Your irritation bleeds over into your mood as you sit around the base, and soon enough everyone else in the outpost starts to avoid you as best they can.

Three days may not seem like an extraordinarily long time to avoid your friends, but it’s the longest you’ve gone without seeing them in… well, possibly ever.

Jake knows you well enough to know that you need space to think things over, which probably accounts for the fact that he hasn’t yet shown up to bust your door down. But while Jake may be giving you space, no one seems to have given that memo to Lo’ak.

“Whatever dad did, I’m sure he’s sorry.” Lo’ak blurts on the afternoon of your third day of self-imposed exile.

The two of you are sprawled out on one of the couches in the meagre corner that Max has attempted to turn into a recreation area – the couch Lo’ak is laying across was originally designed for Avatar bodies, and he spends enough time in the outpost that he looks perfectly at home here with a CO2 respirator hanging around his neck for him to sip at the air.

You sigh, avoiding his eyes. You know you’re not meant to have favourites among the children, but you’ve always had a mushy little soft spot for Lo’ak. He’s always so hungry for recognition and validation, and yet he can be so damn sweet. It’s no surprise that he’s the one that’s skipping his duties in the clan just to hang out with you at the outpost because he’s worried about you.

“Your dad didn’t do anything, Lo’ak.” You murmur, though you’re still having a hard time looking at him.

Lo’ak’s brow puckers. “... Mom, then?”

“No!” You say quickly, before taking a deep breath and continuing in a calmer tone of voice. “No, it’s not– look, it’s just… sometimes, grown-ups just need some time apart to think, that’s all.”

Lo’ak is quiet for a moment. He’s staring down into his lap, his brow drawn together moodily as he fidgets with his thumbs. He’s obviously thinking hard, lost in his thoughts, though you couldn’t begin to guess what it is he’s thinking about.

Lo’ak is more like his mother than anyone gives him credit for; just like Neytiri, he does a poor job keeping his thoughts and feelings to himself for too long.

“Spider said that Norm told him about a human thing called divorce.” He bursts out, finally raising his head to look at you. For the first time, you see the glimmer of panic in his eyes. “Are you– you’re not doing that, right?”

You rear back, struggling to hide your shock from him. Oh god, now the guilt is starting to set in. In all your panic and embarrassment, you hadn’t really considered what the kids must have thought about all this.

Lo’ak’s ears are pressed flat against the side of his head and his tail is coiled tightly against his body, giving you an insight into how vulnerable he’s feeling right now.

“Oh, no, kiddo!” You blurt, sitting up on the couch and leaning over to place a hand on your shoulder. “It’s not… It’s not like that.”

Lo’ak’s eyes are suspiciously glassy, and he immediately shuffles over to hide his face in your shoulder. The hug is a little awkward; he’s not nearly as small as he used to be as a small child, but he’s still trying his best to curl his much larger body into your chest. It’s like cuddling a golden retriever that doesn’t realise how large it is.

“Mom and dad have been arguing since you left.” He mumbles into your shoulder. “Whatever they did to make you mad, they’re sorry about it.”

Your heart aches, and you close your eyes and sigh as you kiss his forehead. Damn, now you really feel like an asshole. You never expected this to impact Jake and Neytiri’s relationship at home, and to hear that they’re actually in conflict comes as a surprise to you. They’re usually a united front, so to hear that there’s cracks in that front because of you is somewhat jarring.

“... What are they arguing about?” You murmur, feeling a little guilty for prying.

Lo’ak shrugs, as though the way his parents think is utterly mystifying to his brain. “Mom thinks dad fucked up somehow, I dunno.”

He darts a quick look up at your face as though trying to check whether he’s going to get scolded for cursing, but you hardly notice. You’re too busy thinking. You can’t help but wonder exactly how Jake had recounted your little conversation to Neytiri, and you feel your cheeks burn at the thought of what she must have had to say about it. They probably both think you’re a total moron.

You sigh through your nose and pet Lo’ak’s braids absently. He seems happy to burrow close as you think, relaxing into your arms as though he’s not comically large for a fourteen year old.

Truthfully, you wonder if you’re overthinking this. Because if you’re being honest with yourself, the thought that Jake and Neytiri think of you romantically sends a thrill of excitement so pure running through you that it feels as though it’s going to knock you off your feet.

You’ve spent so long moping about being alone that you didn’t even realise that you have two big sexy Na’vi sitting there interested in you but thinking that you weren’t interested in sex? Fuck, how could you have misassessed the situation like that?

“Hey, um’ma?” Lo’ak mumbles, his voice all muffled by your shirt.

“Yeah?”

There’s a pause. Then Lo’ak says, “Ola’netu’s a loser.”

“Lo’ak!” You scold, swatting at his head.

“It’s true!” Lo’ak complains. Your light smack to his head is so inconsequential that he doesn’t even bother moving his head out of the way, choosing instead to shuffle even closer until he’s practically crushing you.

“It’s rude to call people losers.” You sigh.

Lo’ak just grumbles. “Not when they’re trying to steal one of your moms.”

“That’s not–” You start, before falling silent. Na’vi mating practices and culture still throws you for a loop sometimes, but to hear Lo’ak say that he considers you a mom leaves you feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. You had known he viewed you as some kind of role model figure based on how he used to follow along behind your ankles as a young child, but to hear him come out and say it is something entirely different.

“Aw.” You whisper, unable to help it as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him tight. “You’re so sweet, aren’tcha?”

Despite the fact that Lo’ak was literally just burrowing his way into your side, he starts rolling his eyes and leaning away. “Um’ma, quit it!”

You’re still laughing when you hear the sound of a door opening somewhere behind you, and you don’t even bother looking around. It’s Lo’ak who looks over your shoulder instead, and his face goes slack in surprise as his mouth drops open.

“Mom!” Lo’ak says, pushing himself up onto his knees on the couch so he can stare wide-eyed behind you.

You whip around at that, and feel your heart actually skip a beat at the sight of Neytiri picking her way through the narrow walkway of the outpost. You’re certain that your own expression matches Lo’ak’s surprised bewilderment perfectly.

Neytiri has never visited the human outpost before; she mostly tolerates the presence of the humans living beyond the boundary of the Omaticaya village, and is understandably wary of most of them. The sight of her walking towards you as she fiddles with the respirator around her neck is surreal.

Your stomach trembles at the sight of her. You’re not sure you’re ready to have this conversation with her, but you already know there’s no escape. If there’s anyone that can match Jake in pure hard-headed stubbornness, it’s Neytiri.

“Lo’ak,” Neytiri murmurs as she approaches. “Go home. Your father wants you to go foraging with Kiri.”

Lo’ak groans loudly, and Neytiri shoots him a look so sharp that it practically cuts. He gets the message almost immediately, and obviously decides it’s in his best interest not to argue any further. He stands up off the couch and skulks off, though he glances over his shoulder at you before he rounds the corner.

“See you at dinner, um’ma?” He calls, his eyes gone soft and hopeful.

You hesitate, glancing nervously at Neytiri. “Uh… I’m not sure.” You say non-committedly, smiling weakly.

Lo’ak frowns, stopping dead-still as his ears pin back. “Um’ma, please.”

Ah fuck, you never could deny that kid anything. You sigh, reaching up to rub at the space between your eyes. “Right. Yeah, okay. See you later, Lo’ak.”

As soon as Lo’ak disappears around the corner, Neytiri steps towards you. Flustered, you stand up to meet her as she stops just short of the couch. She’s watching you closely, her honey-coloured eyes tracking over every inch of you.

You’re so thrown by the fact that she’s actually here, in front of you, in the human outpost, that you barely even know what to say to her.

“Um… hey.” You say stupidly.

Thankfully, Neytiri decides to ignore your weak little greeting.

“I wish to talk, tawtute.” Her voice is soft, as though she’s trying not to scare you away.

Right. Of course she does. Your eyes dart around the little rec area, all shifty. Towards the back of the open space of the outpost, you can see some of the scientists sending you curious looks. You can’t really blame them; while the Sully kids are regular visitors around here, the sight of Neytiri must be rather startling.

“We can talk in my room.” You mutter, stepping back and hurriedly leading the way towards privacy.

Neytiri follows along silently, though her attention is mostly taken up with looking around the building curiously. You usher her into your room quickly, your heart rate already picking up nervously.

It’s more than a little unnerving to watch Neytiri’s tall, willowy figure stepping into your cramped, windowless room. She looks so out of place amongst the clutter of your stuff, and yet she steps forward and sinks down to perch herself on the edge of your bed as though she belongs there.

You barely manage to stifle a squeak at the sight of her sitting right where Jake had sat only a few nights earlier, right before he had fingered you within an inch of your life. She’s watching you as though she knows what you’re thinking, and you feel your face grow warm under her regard.

“Jake said that you needed space,” She murmurs, breaking the expectant silence that had settled over the two of you. “And I trust him with many things. But he has already made a mess of this, hasn’t he?”

You swallow thickly, fidgeting with your fingers. You can’t help but feel guilty; it was you that had made a mess of this by hiding yourself away like this and refusing to face them after your obvious misunderstanding.

“I’m sorry.” You say stiffly. “I didn’t mean to… well. I just needed time to think.”

Neytiri hums, though she doesn’t appear too convinced. “Jake tells me that you did not realise how we valued you as a mate.”

She says it as though she thinks it’s ridiculous, which certainly doesn’t help things. She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she watches you. Her delicate little chest covering sways forward, and it takes everything in you not to stare at her tits.

“Why would you wish to mate with someone you cannot connect with?” You ask, your voice quiet.

It’s probably not fair to throw Neytiri’s own words back at her from the conversation you had had about Ola’netu on the first night of mating season, but you get a twisted sense of satisfaction from the way her expression cracks into surprise. She looks taken aback, her ears flattening.

“That was not what I meant.” She protests, her brow creasing into a frown.

“You were asking me to find “release” with the other humans!” You burst out. It might not be fair to get frustrated at her like this, but all of these thoughts have been brewing since your little argument with Jake and you finally get the chance to express them.

Neytiri’s tail lashes, revealing her own restlessness.

“You never approached us for…” She trails off, then takes a breath. “I assumed that you were seeking pleasure from your kind. It is like I said; sex is a way for bonding in mated pairs as well as outside of them.”

You blink at her, bewildered. You had thought that she was just making a sweeping statement about Na’vi sexuality. It hadn’t occurred to you that she had been telling you this because she was including you in the mated subsection of the population.

“Jake thought that you were not interested in sexual intimacy at all, because you never mentioned anything to him.” Neytiri says. “But I had thought that you just preferred intimacy with your own kind. And that would be fine, tawtute. There is much diversity among Na’vi mating bonds, and there is almost no mating bonds between Na’vi and Sky People. We are learning as we go.”

She’s doing the same thing that Jake had done; keeping her voice carefully low as though trying not to upset you. You’re a little torn; you can’t decide whether it’s sweet or aggravating that they treat you like you’re something delicate that needs to be protected. You decide to settle on aggravated, even as she keeps talking.

“There are other forms of intimacy; sitting in laps, grooming, cooking for each other, sleeping in shared spaces, spending quality time together. We do all of this, syulang.”

“If you aren’t interested in having sex with me, just say that.” You say, crossing your arms defensively over your chest. You know that you sound like a little brat right now, but you can’t help it. “You don’t have to come up with all these different excuses.”

Neytiri’s eyes widen, her hairless brows raising.

“We did not think we were–” Neytiri struggles for a moment to find the right word. “Compatible. Sexually. We are too big, tawtute, we could have hurt you.”

“But you never even tried.” You say stubbornly, a frown creeping onto your face. “Jake wasn’t too big when he fingered me the other night.”

You might be stretching the truth a little there, because Jake has fat-ass fingers that had stretched you until you had been an actual sobbing mess, but you’re trying to make a point here.

Neytiri reaches up and presses her fingers against her mouth, and it takes you a moment to realise that she’s trying hard not to laugh.

“If you wanted to be touched, all you had to do was ask.” She murmurs, before reaching her other hand out towards you.

You hesitate for a moment. You’re not sure if you’re ready to let go of your annoyance so easily, but you step towards Neytiri all the same. Her tail is twitching, a clear sign of her anticipation. As soon as you get within arm’s reach, she takes you by the arms and pulls you right up into her lap.

You squeak, flustered at the sudden movement. It’s not like it’s strange for you to be hauled into a Na’vi’s lap, but it’s never been Neytiri’s lap before. You grab onto her shoulders without thinking to try and steady yourself, and out of the corner of your eye you see a pleased smile playing about her lips.

“What did you think of Jake?” She asks, her voice low. Her long, slender hands wrap around your hips to keep you in place across her thighs.

“Um…” Your brain has stalled a bit, completely distracted by the way your own thighs are spread wide so that you’re straddling her hips.

Neytiri’s tiny little smile is knowing, as if she knows that your cunt is growing wet and hot just from the feeling of your thighs being stretched wide over hers. Even more distracting is the way her long fingers are tracing over the exposed skin of your thighs where your dress has ridden up over your hips.

“You wanted to experience Na’vi bodies, hm?” She murmurs, her fingers pushing higher as she traces little circles over your hips. “What did you think of Jake’s?”

“It was– he was… great.” You sound like an absolute idiot, and you feel like one as well. It’s like your brain is actually grinding to a halt, as though every ounce of your awareness is narrowing down to the points of contact between you and Neytiri.

Neytiri hums, her eyes dropping down over your own body and lingering. She’s clearly curious about your cotton dress – you almost exclusively wear your Omaticayan style beaded top and loincloth when you’re in the village, and Neytiri hasn’t actually seen you wearing your own human clothes in years. She tugs at the back of it with a tiny frown.

“Good.” She murmurs, her fingers tangling in the soft fabric of your dress. “But just as you were unfamiliar with Na’vi bodies, I have never experienced the body of a Sky Person.”

You take a sharp breath. You’ve clearly been painfully oblivious of any signals that Jake and Neytiri may have been sending you over the years, and you’re not prepared to miss out on anything else just because you’re not willing to take a risk.

“D’you want to?” You ask in a whisper. It comes out more breathless that you had intended, your excitement causing your lungs to squeeze tight.

Neytiri’s smile widens, the delicate skin around her eyes creasing right before she leans in and presses a full-mouthed kiss to your mouth.

It’s messier and more heated than you had expected from her, and you moan without meaning to when her sharp canines tug at your lower lip. Neytiri kisses like she's got something to prove — her mouth is firm and unyielding against yours, and her teeth nip lightly at your lips in a way that sends a shiver rippling down your spine.

As you gasp into her mouth, her hands grip at your waist and haul you closer to her until your chests are pressed tight together, your thighs spread wide around her hips as she pulls you tight to her.

You whimper against her, unable to help yourself, and then to your immense disappointment she pulls back. Her mouth is wet and swollen, but she looks so pretty when she grins at you. When she tugs at your dress again, you pick up on her unspoken request and immediately begin tugging your dress over your head.

You’re left in just your bra and panties, but you’re not given a moment to feel self-conscious. Neytiri’s big golden eyes are taking you in hungrily, but despite that hunger there’s also a gleam of curiosity in her eyes. When you unclasp your bra and let it fall to the side, her eyes land on your breasts as though you’ve just unwrapped a gift for her.

She reaches for your tits immediately, and her big hands practically swallow them whole. You’re reminded of the way she had brushed her hands against your tits when she had fixed your top in a way that was almost casual, but in hindsight was unmistakably erotic.

“Ah,” Neytiri murmurs, sounding almost surprised as her hands close around your tits. “They are softer than I expected.”

“Are they?” You breathe a little dazedly.

She hums, and you bite back another squeak when she reaches up and pulls off her pretty chest covering. You’ve seen Neytiri’s breasts before, of course; the Na’vi are not modest about their bodies, and those beaded tops the women wear are mostly just for accessory.

But seeing is different to touching, and your breath catches when she takes your wrist and guides your hand to one of her tits.

Neytiri’s breasts are small, in proportion to the rest of her tall svelte body, but they’re firmer than you had expected. It shouldn’t be too much of a surprise, you suppose – the muscle structure of the Na’vi is insane, and there’s almost zero softness to them. Neytiri’s breasts are probably the most pliable part of her whole body, but even still the flesh doesn’t yield as much as you might have expected. You can certainly understand why Neytiri is so fascinated by the cushiony softness of your own chest.

Neytiri lets out a small, pleased sound when your thumb rolls over her nipple, and she lifts her CO2 respirator to take a quick sip of air before dropping it and clasping your jaw with one hand. She pulls you into another kiss, and you sigh happily as her tongue slides against yours. The size difference means that the kiss is a little awkward, but her enthusiasm makes up for that.

It feels like the world is spinning, and you let out a soft noise of surprise when her teeth sink into your lower lip. It’s not hard enough to hurt, but the sensation has you shivering in her lap. You almost whine when she breaks away from you, but she just starts to trail kisses down your neck and across your chest.

“Oh, fuck.” You breathe, your whole body jolting when she bites at the curve of your breast. It stings, and you look down at yourself to find a reddened bite mark at the top of your tit, right where it starts to swell.

“So soft and pretty, syulang.” Neytiri mumbles, sucking a bruise on the top of your other tit.

She’s the oddest mix of rough and gentle with you; she’s obviously very conscious of how much bigger and stronger she is, because she’s holding you like you’re made of glass. But even as she strokes her thumbs over your hipbones, her hot, hungry mouth nips and kisses at your sensitive skin and leaves purpling bruises behind.

When her mouth actually closes around your nipple, you let out an absolutely mortifying sound of confusion mixed with arousal. She can fit so much of your breast in her mouth that when she actually suckles on it, your eyes practically roll back at the stimulation.

“God,” You whimper, your hips twitching against her lap. The lace of your panties drags over the soft buttery fabric of her loincloth, and the friction against your clit leaves you shivery. “Neytiri, will you please– can you–?”

Neytiri hums, reluctantly releasing your tit from the wet heat of her mouth. You shiver as the cool air of the room hits the spit-slick skin of your breasts, but Neytiri quickly places her hand over the spot she had been sucking, warming your skin as she squeezes lightly.

“So eager, tawtute.” She coos, smiling at you like she thinks that you’re just adorable. She reaches her much larger hand into your panties, her long slender fingers sliding through the slick folds of your pussy with ease.

You groan like you’ve just been punched, and drop your head down against her shoulder. Her thumb rolls over your clit and your hips jump, grinding in her lap. She chuckles at your reaction, and watches your face closely as she presses one of her fingers inside of you. While a single one of her fingers is much larger than yours, it’s still smaller than Jake’s and you find yourself wanting more.

“Another one.” You beg, already humping your hips into her hand.

Neytiri laughs softly, but does as you ask all the same. The second finger is a definite stretch, but you’re so aroused already that it only stings for a moment before your body adjusts, squeezing tight around her.

“Pretty, pretty girl.” She whispers, ducking her face back down to your chest even as she fingers you.

Oh god, she’s bitey. The wet heat of her mouth leaves trails of stinging bruises across your tender chest and shoulders, which she then soothes over with her large, catlike tongue. There’s going to be no covering the marks she’s leaving behind, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You’d likely let her do anything to you right now; you feel overheated and shivery, and you can’t stop your chest from heaving as you rut your hips into her fingers, moaning as the heel of her hand grinds into your clit. Her hand is much too big to fit properly in your panties, but you’re far past the point of caring if she stretches the fabric out.

The only thing that could actually bring you out of the sweaty, horny haze you’ve found yourself in is the sound of your bedroom door opening, and you freeze in Neytiri’s lap with your breathing embarrassingly loud in the silence.

For a wildly horrifying moment, you think that Lo’ak had returned for something, and you think about just dropping dead on the spot.

But then you look reluctantly over your shoulder, and you see Jake’s big body standing hunched in your doorway, and you want to drop dead for an entirely different reason.

Jake is looking between you and Neytiri with wide golden eyes, his eyebrows raised so high that his whole forehead is creased. His stare lingers on your bare chest, then on Neytiri’s, and then drops down to where Neytiri’s hand is stuffed down the front of your panties.

“Oh shit.” Jake breathes once he manages to get over his surprise. His expression brightens and he hastily shuts the door behind himself, shuffling quickly over to your bed to join you and Neytiri.

The little room you had claimed as a bedroom is far from large, but it feels even smaller now that you have both Jake and Neytiri’s nine-feet-tall big ass bodies joining you on your miserable, rickety little bed.

“I guess that your little chat went well, huh?” Jake murmurs, a shit-eating grin on his face as he settles next to Neytiri, leaning in close so that his hungry eyes can rove over your almost naked body.

Neytiri hums, though she hardly even looks up at her husband. She’s too busy nuzzling little kisses into your throat, pulling helpless little gasps out of your mouth every time her lips close over your sensitive skin. Her hand doesn’t stop moving either, and you feel like you’re going weak in her lap every time the thick pad of her thumb rolls over the little bead of your clit.

“You handled things badly, ma Jake. I told you I would sort it.” She says, and you can feel her lips curving into a smile against your throat.

Jake just snickers, and you can feel the warm weight of his palm land on your back. He strokes over the bare length of your spine, and then you feel his fingers tug playfully at the back of your panties. He purposefully tugs the lace fabric so that it’s wedged uncomfortably between your asscheeks, and you let out a soft yowl of complaint before half-turning and slapping at his hands.

“Ah fuck, you’re wearing your sexy panties, huh?” Jake’s laugh is a little hoarse as he tugs at your underwear.

Neytiri hisses at him in aggravation when his messing about leads to her hand being forced out of your panties, but Jake just grins. The two of them are so fucking big, they’re practically looming over you right now. Even perched in Neytiri’s lap, you feel tiny in between them.

“The fabric means something?” Neytiri asks, her attention now caught on your red lacy panties.

“Oh yeah.” Jake mutters, his chest pressing up against your bare back, which consequently pushes your breasts against Neytiri’s. “Why don’t you tell her what your panties mean, honey?”

“Jake.” You complain, though it comes out more whiny than you had intended.

He just ignores you, his chest rumbling quietly in amusement against your back as he leans down to murmur in your ear. “Means she was hoping someone’d take her clothes off to get a peek at her, isn’t that right?”

You don’t get the chance to respond, because Jake wraps an arm around your middle and plucks you right out of Neytiri’s lap. You end up sprawled in his lap with your thighs spread wide over his, your back plastered against his chest. One of his hands rests against your belly to keep you pinned against him, keeping you firmly in place against him.

You half expect Neytiri to be irritated over being interrupted, but if anything she’s brightened even further. There’s a gleam in her eyes as she pushes herself off the bed, landing on her knees in between Jake’s spread thighs.

You feel ridiculously exposed like this; it’s almost as if Jake has maneuvered you into this position with the express purpose of showing your body off. Your thighs bracket his, and when he spreads his legs yours are forced wider too, giving Neytiri an eyeful of your scarlet red panties and the absolutely humiliating wet spot that’s currently soaking through the crotch.

Your back is arched too thanks to the way that he’s holding you tight against him, which forces your tits out and gives him a good eyeful of the nips and bruises that Neytiri’s greedy mouth had left behind.

“Damn, you did a number on her, didn’t’ya?” Jake’s big fingers trace over the tender marks across your breasts, and you swear it feels like the contact sends a little zap of electricity racing through you.

Neytiri just giggles, her cheeks dimpling as she smiles up at you and Jake from between your spread thighs. The close proximity of her face to your pussy almost takes your breath away, and your breath catches in your chest when she rubs her big thumb over the wet patch on the fabric of your panties.

Some part of you wonders if you should try to slow things down, to talk things out, but then Neytiri hooks her long fingers in the band of your panties and tugs them clumsily down your thighs and all sensible thought completely abandons you.

You let out a soft, wanting sound when Jake’s fingers run through the slickness of your pussy, spreading you wide so that Neytiri can get a proper look at you. She even leans closer, and the heat of her breath against your oversensitive, damp skin has you twitching.

“What do you think, baby?” Jake asks Neytiri, leaning over your head and looking down at her with a grin. His fingers roll a teasing circle over your clit, and you groan as your head falls backwards to rest against his chest.

“She is so small.” Neytiri coos, her own big fingers joining Jake’s in stroking over you.

All you can do is lay there in Jake’s lap, with your eyes wide and your chest heaving as their big fingers press into you, stretch you wide, and rub at your clit. It’s like they’re trying to outdo each other, trying to unravel you with their fingers alone. Their hands are so big that the combination of their touches feels overwhelming, as though the heat of their fingers is stealing the breath right out of your lungs.

God, you love how they make you feel so small and delicate. Getting manhandled and pinned down during sex is exciting normally anyway, but with two Na’vi twice your size that excitement turns into an outright thrill.

Neytiri kisses the inside of your thigh. It’s such a sweet little motion, her plush lips dragging gently over the thin sensitive skin of your inner thighs. It’s not much of a surprise when her lips add a little suction, a little nip of her canines, just so she can suck another little lovebite at the juncture of your hips and thighs.

“So pretty, syulang.” She whispers, but her voice is muffled as she trails kisses tantalisingly close to where you want her mouth.

“Neytiri,” You whimper. You try to squirm, but Jake keeps you still. “Please-!”

Jake chuckles, his chest rumbling pleasantly against your back. “C’mon, Neytiri, baby, help me get her ready.”

“She’s so wet already.” Neytiri murmurs, her cheeks dimpling so prettily as she leans in and finally lays her mouth on you.

The wet heat of her mouth has your head tilting back onto Jake’s shoulder with a moan, earning a quiet laugh from Jake as he presses a kiss to your shoulder. His big hands keep your thighs spread, and you end up with your legs spread wide and thrown over Neytiri’s shoulders as she latches onto your clit and sucks.

“Fuck!” You yell, your hips jerking. But Jake keeps your hips pinned down so that your ass is pressing against the hardened bulge in his loincloth, his arms wrapped around your belly as he watches Neytiri eat you out from over your shoulder.

“She tastes good, doesn’t she, baby?” Jake croons to her, snickering when Neytiri moans out a garbled response, all muffled into your cunt.

Even from the corner of your eye, you can see the excited smile that’s tugging at Jake’s lips as he hooks his chin over your shoulder to get a better look at Neytiri hungrily licking you out. Judging by the stiffening of his cock pressed against your ass, he is more than enjoying the view.

Na’vi tongues are so oddly textured, like a cat-tongue almost, and Neytiri’s licks against you are rougher than they would be with a human partner. It also means that when her wide, rough tongue rasps over your clit, sparks practically burst behind your eyes as you cry out.

“That’s it, honey. Just relax.” Jake whispers to you, his wide palm cupping your tits and squeezing a little.

Neytiri’s tongue slides down the lips of your pussy until she reaches your slit, and then her tongue is wiggling inside of you and you’re turning your head to the side and whining into the pretty blue skin of Jake’s neck. He just hums, obviously enjoying the sight of his wife tongue-fucking you as you’re held spread open in his lap.

Jake’s cock is pressing into the dip at the small of your back, scalding hot and hard as a goddamn rock, and you alternate between rocking against the length of his hard dick and back into Neytiri’s greedy mouth. She mouths along your pussy, her teeth grazing and scratching at the sensitive skin just right.

You let out an overwhelmed sort of sob, the air catching in your chest as you heave for breath, and you can feel Neytiri smile against the soft flesh of your pussy. Neytiri’s tongue traces your folds, pulling them into his mouth and suckling. You arch your back and moan into Jake’s neck, though your own little sounds of pleasure are mostly drowned out by the soft, breathy moans she keeps making into your pussy everytime she licks into you.

The two of them are caging you in with their big bodies, holding you so gently even as they push you close to the edge. The sweet, hot tension in your lower belly coils tighter and tighter until you’re a trembling wreck, ready to shatter apart.

“Oh… oh god.” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut tight as your head rests back against Jake’s chest. He just chuckles, and smooths some of your sweaty hair back off your forehead.

“Gonna come, honey?” He whispers, his voice all coy and teasing in your ear. “Oh shit, you crying?”

You are tearing up, just a little bit, from all the sheer stimulation of Neytiri’s mouth on your pussy and Jake’s enormous hands groping at your tits. You still manage to smack Jake’s bicep for that comment though, a weak little slap to his hard muscle.

“Shit, I’m… I’m gonna–” You start to say, your eyelids fluttering shut in anticipation as that beautiful, toe-curling tension starts to coil sweetly in your lower belly.

But right as you’re about to tip over that precipice into bliss, Neytiri pulls away and you nearly start crying for real.

“No! Wait, don’t stop–” You whine, your hips humping into the air in an attempt to follow after Neytiri’s mouth.

“Shhh, mawey, syulang. Calm.” Neytiri purrs, another little kiss placed on your soft inner thigh. “So perfect, yawntu.”

The pupils of her eyes are wider than you’ve ever seen them, and she keeps leaning her cheek against the plush flesh of your thigh. She looks drunk almost, even as she keeps kissing all along your thighs and up over your tummy, before returning to your cunt just to give you slow, kittenish licks right over the bead of your clit.

Your entire body jerks with every kiss. Her tongue is hot and wet as she licks at you, and it feels like liquid fire erupts through your nerves. Your hips twitch and chase after her touch, but Jake keeps you in place with his firm grasp on your thighs.

You’re desperate, frantic for any kind of release. This feels as though it’s been building for years, as though your body has just been waiting for them to touch you like this. God, it feels good. They’re so much bigger than you that any wrong move could end up with them actually crushing you between them, and yet they’re so sweet and careful. You feel as safe with them as ever.

As if he senses your impatience, Jake kisses the spot just under your ear. “You want more, sweetheart?”

“Yes!” You hiss, already squirming in his lap. Your ass rubs against his dick and he groans, his arms tightening around your waist to pull you back onto him so that he can grind against you.

“What d’you think, huh?” Jake’s voice is rough and gravelly as he speaks to Neytiri, his arousal obvious. “Is our little lady ready for it?”

“She is so small, ma Jake. It will be a tight fit.” Neytiri murmurs, her voice all muffled as her fingers dip back inside you. You roll your hips against her fingers, whimpering a little at the mouth-watering stretch as she pushes a third long finger inside.

“She’ll take it,” Jake murmurs, his flat nose pressing into your temple. “Won’t you, beautiful?”

One Na’vi finger is probably the equivalent of two of yours, so the stretch is enough to send your head spinning. You barely even comprehend what he’s saying to you, but you nod blindly anyway, gasping wetly as Neytiri fingers you.

“Uh huh, yeah, please.” You say stupidly, wiggling on his lap.

Jake lifts you a little higher, holding you close to his chest as Neytiri pulls his loincloth off. And fuck, you had almost forgotten how big his dick was. He’s so hard, the delicate little glowing white freckles along the length of it twinkling like little stars, just like the ones splashed across Neytiri’s tits.

“Hush, honey, we’re gonna look after you.” Jake soothes you, kissing your temple. “Gonna be so good to you. Fuck, been waiting so long for this.”

Jake grunts a quiet moan when Neytiri’s hand closes around his cock, and he muffles his appreciative noises in the curve of your shoulder. Neytiri presses a playful kiss to the tip of his dick, earning another groan from Jake, before she looks up at you again.

“You are okay, syulang?” She whispers, setting one heavy hand on your waist and stroking her long thumb over your stomach.

You’ve never been so eager for anything in your life. It’s like your body remembers the feeling of Jake’s fingers and the weight of his cock on your tongue, because it feels like every nerve is aflame as you wait for him to press into you and stretch you wide. You’ve been thinking about this since that night, lying alone in your quarters and stuffing yourself full with your fingers trying to imagine it was his dick. No matter what though, it never feels like enough.

You nod, and lean forward in Jake’s lap to try and kiss Neytiri again. You’re a little shy about it, still a little thrilled that you’re allowed to do this, and she ends up sitting up on her knees and placing her hand on the back of your head to pull you into a sweet, lingering kiss.

As she kisses you, the thick head of Jake’s dick drags through your folds and you shiver in anticipation. Even just the tip of it feels big when he’s grinding it against your clit, and you wrap your arms around Neytiri’s shoulders for stability as Jake positions himself at your entrance.

“Fuck,” The groan is punched out of you when you feel the insistent pressure of Jake’s cock pressing into you. “Jake… Your dick is too big, it won’t fit–”

“You think I gotta big dick, sweetheart?” Jake laughs, cause he’s an asshole like that. His teeth flash in a grin.

“You’re such a dickhead.” You complain, but you find yourself laughing breathlessly anyway.

His intention was to make you relax a little, and it works. Jake and Neytiri’s big fingers have been stretching you out, and you’re so horny and eager right now that it’s now or never.

Jake just snickers, and reaches over to your bedside locker. He opens it up and reaches inside, and pulls out the tiny plastic bottle of lube you have hidden away in there. You can't even think about how he knows it’s there because Neytiri keeps kissing you stupid, and you don’t have any brain power to spare.

Neytiri trails kisses down your neck and chest, pausing at your breasts again. She takes a hasty, shaky breath from the CO2 respirator around her neck, before dropping it and leaning forward to wrap her lips around your nipple again while massaging your other breast with her free hand. Her gentle but eager touches feel genuinely addictive, like she’s leaving trails of pure heat along your oversensitive skin with every brush of her lips.

Jake’s cock, slick with lube, presses up into your cunt, and you let out a garbled whimper at the feeling of intense dull pressure. “Oh, fuck.”

You jolt when Neytiri lets your tit go with a soft, wet little pop. She coos softly at you, cupping your cheek with her hand and brushing her thumb over your cheekbone. Her eyes are so big and golden and pretty, and she’s looking up at you with an awed sort of smile, as though she can hardly believe she’s seeing you like this right now.

Jake begins to press into you, stretching you wide and slipping inside inch by inch.

You gasp desperately as you’re speared open inexorably slowly, tears pricking your eyes as your mouth drops open. Your hips twitch, unsure whether to press back into him to get him deeper inside of you faster or to jerk away from the intense stretch, but his hands are clamped tight around your hips to restrict your movement.

“Fuck, so tight.” Jake grunts, pausing. “Strangling my cock. Shhh… your pussy was made for this, honey. You’ll stretch.””

The noise you make barely sounds human, an incomprehensible mix between a moan and a squeal as Neytiri steadies you, her big hands settling on your waist. She’s staring between your legs, obviously transfixed by the sight of Jake rocking his cock into you in steady increments. Though you can’t see yourself, you can only imagine that it must be quite the sight.

“Just– put it in all at once!” You burst out, gasping as you squeeze your eyes shut. You feel as though you’re about to get totally overwhelmed, the breath driven right out of you as the shocking girth of him stretches you wide.

“Easy, baby girl.” He rumbles into your ear, breath coming in short puffs. He bites at the junction between your neck and shoulder as he slides another inch deeper inside of you. “You’re doing so good.”

You try to calm yourself, taking your deep breaths, but for a heartbeat or two you can’t breathe at all, hovering on a knife's edge of pain and pleasure as your body could only yield – it doesn’t even feel like there’s room in you even to inhale –

“Be gentle, Jake.” Neytiri murmurs, her thumb landing on your swollen clit and rubbing tight circles against it to soothe you.

“I know, I know, I got her.” Jake grunts.

Each ridge on his cock rubs against your inner walls, the slick, throbbing friction never flagging. His rough hands wander erratically, raking up your rib cage, over one breast and down again, grasping as if a handful of you is not enough as he moves his hips in slow humps to get his cock as deep in you as he can manage.

“Fuck!” You moan throatily, dropping your head to hang low as you rock your hips experimentally back on his dick. “Jake, you gotta… gotta move.”

It doesn’t all fit inside of you, but Jake doesn’t seem to mind – he’s grunting out quiet curses, his voice rough and deep as his cock rocks into the tightness of your cunt. The stretch is achy, but the weight and girth of his cock rubs against every goddamn nerve you have. Even though it feels as though he’s splitting you in two, you still find your hips rocking insistently against him, mewling at the sensation.

“Oh honey, you been practicing?” Jake grunts, his sharp canines dragging along the side of your throat. “Goddamn, look at you. Sucking me right into you, aren’tcha? Look, baby, you seeing this?”

“I see.” Neytiri hums, still playing with your clit. She shoots you another smile, before leaning in and kissing at your tits again. “So soft, syulang. So lovely. Doing so well, yawne.”

“Fuck,” Jake groans as he watches his wife touch your tits and marvel at how soft they are. “That’s hot.”

“Go faster.” You whine, tilting your head back to rest against Jake’s shoulder. “Fuck me properly, I can take it, I promise–”

Jake chokes out a laugh, and pulls your back tight against his stomach as his dick grinds deep inside of you, stealing your breath and promptly shutting you up. The moan that’s torn from you is absolutely filthy, your cunt fluttering around him as you fight to take him in, every nerve firing as Neytiri suckles at your breasts.

“Shhh, just take what I give you, gorgeous. Feels like you’re gonna squeeze my cock off. So fucking tight, mama, goddamn–”

You try to lift yourself up, determined to ride him, to take some kind of control over the pace, but Jake holds your hips tight to keep you exactly where he wants you.

It’s so frustrating, because you’re so desperate for more. You know you can take it, you’ve been fucking your fingers just imagining this for days now, gradually stretching yourself out, and Neytiri has already ensured that you’re good and ready for this. You feel like you’re going to lose your mind if Jake doesn’t just fuck you properly already.

Neytiri’s tongue rolls around your nipple, pulling a soft whine out of your throat, before she releases your titty and kisses her way up your neck, pausing by your ear.

“He can be mean, can’t he, pretty girl?” Neytiri whispers in your ear, her voice all teasing and playful. “You musn’t let him tease you. Take what you want. Do you want me to show you how?”

You nod, your mouth dropped open as you pant, your stomach fluttering in excitement.

Neytiri gives you a sharp, hungry smile, before pushing herself to her feet once more. You crane your head back to watch her, your breathing picking up. You must have missed her taking off her loincloth, but now she’s entirely naked in front of you. Your eyes trace over her small but firm breasts, her toned belly, the impressive musculature of her legs, the pretty curve of her pussy. The beautiful bioluminescent freckles all over her jewel-blue body twinkle in the dim artificial light of your quarters, and your mouth goes dry as you’re seized with the desire to trace them with your tongue.

But she’s already climbing onto your rickety bed, and shoving roughly at Jake’s chest. He lets out a low, wanting sound, and lets her push him flat. Now that he’s laying flat on your bed, Neytiri coaxes you to turn – you have to bite back your laughter as you spin around on Jake’s dick so that you’re facing him, and you can see the way he’s clearly fighting his own snickers too.

But Jake never gets to make a joke about the way you just spun around on his dick like a top, because Neytiri swings her leg over his head and straddles his face as though it’s nothing, her body facing you as she simply sits down.

“Ah,” She moans, her eyelids fluttering as she grinds herself against Jake’s mouth. “He talks so much, doesn’t he, syulang?”

You wheeze a laugh, hardly able to believe this is happening. Jake does talk a lot, but he seems very happy to be forced into silence like this judging by the way his cock is twitching inside you. His groans are muffled but no less pleased, one hand coming up to wrap around Neytiri’s thigh and encourage her to rock into his mouth.

Neytiri lets out a soft pleasured sound, before raising her eyes back to you. Her smile is lazy, her eyes half-closed as she relishes the feeling of Jake’s mouth against her pussy. She reaches out and takes one of your hands, intertwining your fingers before she leans forward and kisses you so sweetly.

“Go ahead and move how you want to, tawtute.” She whispers, her tongue gliding over your lower lip.

You mewl a little, but do as she says. You place a hand firmly on Jake’s belly for balance, before lifting yourself on shaky knees and dropping back down again. You groan at the feeling, and in the same moment Jake’s hips rock up into you and his belly visibly tightens. His obvious pleasure buoys your confidence, and you do it again.

Your thighs burn – Jake’s cock is long, and you have to lift yourself higher than you’re used to in order to ride him properly. But it’s a challenge you’re willing to take because even though the stretch of him burns, it feels delicious. You feel drunk on it, your mouth falling open as tears over overstimulation begin to leak from the corners of your eyes.

Neytiri watches you through her half-lidded golden eyes, a lazy smile pulling at her lips as her tails sways in the air behind her. One of her hands is squeezing absently at her tits, the other holding your hand tight as the two of you rock against Jake.

"Hah," You gasp out as you involuntarily squeeze around the girth of his cock. “Ah… oh god, I’m…”

“How does it feel, syulang?” Neytiri breathes, watching the way your hips undulate over Jake’s stupidly big cock, trying to get it to hit just right.

“Feels– shit, so big, but so good–” You sob, overwhelmed yet so needy. Your legs are tiring already, thighs burning as you grind against him. “Want him to move–”

Neytiri hums, before reaching out and smacking at Jake’s hip. He groans into her cunt, the slick sounds of his mouth against her enough to heat your cheeks up, but he gets the message loud and clear because his hips jolt into action.

Each thrust shakes your bed, the springs of your mattress coming to life as Jake’s hips thrust up, fucking you from below. Your pussy is drenched, aiding the lube he had soaked his cock as he glides in and out of you effortlessly, your body opening up for him as though you had been born for this.

His cock reaches something within you that has a sob ripping from your throat, your head tossing back as you wail towards the ceiling.

"Oh my god," You cry out, his cock spearing into you and hitting that spot with precision over and over again, "Fuuuck."

“Is that how you like it, yawntu?” Neytiri breathes. She’s getting close herself; you can tell by the jagged rhythm of her hips as she humps against Jake’s face, and the wide blackness of her pupils.

“Uh huh, yes!” You whine, your vision blurring. It feels like your body is drawing tense as a bowstring, your toes curling so hard it almost hurts.

You’re not sure if Jake can actually hear you or not, considering Neytiri’s thighs are closed tight around his ears, but the hand that isn’t holding onto her leg travels down to your hip and holds you tight. His thumb strokes over the swell of your ass even as he encourages you to rock against him. All you can do is grind against him every time his hips piston up, the thick swell of his cock settling so deep inside of you it feels like it’s in your stomach.

Your pussy is already fluttering, your belly tightening as your rising orgasm begins to prickle at the edges of your body. Fuck, you already feel as though it’s about to shake you apart at the seams, like you’ll never feel whole again without the delicious stretch of Jake’s cock.

To your surprise, it’s Neytiri that comes first. She cries out, her big hand encompassing yours as her eyes roll, her head dropping forward to nestle into your neck as her body shakes apart.

Beneath her, Jake’s chest rumbles with a low purr of arousal as she comes all over his face – but he’s a man devoted to his mission, because he somehow manages to keep fucking into you all while he licks Neytiri through her own orgasm.

You’re actually quaking at this point, grinding yourself desperately on top of Jake as his hips thrust up into, the friction so damn good even though you can tell that he’s trying so hard to be careful with you. This particular position isn’t super conducive to your own pleasure, but being fucked like this while having such strong visual stimulation is nice – you can hardly tear your eyes away from Neytiri as her body goes lax, her eyelashes fluttering wildly as she humps lazily against Jake’s face to ride the last shivery shocks of her orgasm out.

God, it feels as though you’re never going to get over this. You feel as though your nerves are right on the edge of frying, your lungs and muscles burning and your skin slick with sweat as you rock and writhe wildly, taking a cue from Neytiri and seeking your own satisfaction. You can’t imagine ever feeling better than this; it feels as though you’re blooming under all of the attention that’s being lavished upon you.

Once Neytiri stops shaking, she takes a moment to just gasp for breath even as her hips roll slowly over Jake’s tongue. Slowly, she blinks back to herself, then her eyes fall back upon you. A slow, lazy smile spreads across her face, and then she’s reaching out to you all over again, her fingers landing on your clit to rub over it in a teasing circle.

Her long fingers barely brush the fraught nerves before ecstasy settles between each of your vertebrae. Your pussy flares, gripping onto the throbbing thickness of Jake’s cock. Shaking violently, your thighs squeeze Jake’s slim waist as everything tightens, pulses, spasms.

Overwhelmed, whimpering sort of wails pour from your lips in a deluge, your jaw is slack, the waves of ecstasy rendering you utterly helpless to the instinctual rutting motions of your hips. You're rocking up against him while simultaneously attempting to escape the sensation, choking out gasping moans as you fall apart.

You must tighten up like a vice when you come, because Jake yells out, his hips bucking. His shout is muffled by Neytiri’s pussy as you squeeze down on his dick, trembling.

The way your cunt constricts around him proves too much for Jake’s poor cock. You can feel the hot, thick spurts of cum as as he empties himself inside of you, his soft tummy twitching and trembling as his hips flex. You're exhausted, powerless to do anything other than bathe in the sensation of your cunt convulsing around Jake’s twitching cock as he shakes under you, moaning into Neytiri’s cunt as she grinds lazily on his tongue.

When your thighs finally stop trembling, your over-fatigued body starts to go limp. It feels as though your muscles have been liquefied, and you start to slump over a little. Neytiri seems to take sympathy on Jake, because she finally lifts herself off of Jake’s face in order to cup your face, kissing your cheeks and forehead.

Below you, Jake just groans, pausing to give himself a moment to breathe. He only takes a moment though before he starts slowly rocking his hips again, as though he’s just trying to fuck his cum deeper into you. It was too much, leaking out of your hole and over his cock, soaking into the sheets below.

“Oh my god.” You pant, your lungs overworked as you try to catch your breath. “Oh, holy fuck.”

Jake laughs, wheezy with his own disbelief. However wrecked you feel, Jake looks absolutely destroyed. His chest and stomach are glossy with sweat, his hips drenched in lube and your own release. His dreads are in disarray, his eyes hazy and a little dazed as his chest heaves. His mouth and nose are shiny slick too from both his own saliva and from Neytiri coming all over his face.

Despite his dishevelment, he looks impossibly pleased with himself as he fumbles for his respirator, taking clumsy breaths even as he smiles dopily to himself, his eyes glassy and unfocused.

Neytiri helps lift you off Jake’s dick, which you end up being extremely thankful for when you find that your knees are watery and weak. You try to pretend you don’t notice the sheer amount of come that’s leaking out of you, thick and a little iridescent in the artificial light of your quarters.

You’re so fucked out that you hardly even twitch when Neytiri pulls you back against her chest, settling comfortably back on the mattress beside Jake. You end up squished between them in a pile of sweaty slack limbs. You feel so tiny next to them, especially considering the two of them don’t even fit properly on the bed – their legs are hanging right off the mattress, their feet planted on the ground as they nuzzle against you and each other.

Now that all the adrenaline is wearing off, you can certainly feel the ache left behind from all of your activities, and the sting from the sheer stretch of Jake’s cock.

“Ow.” You mutter absently, though it comes out muffled as your face is currently squished against Neytiri’s firm breasts.

She coos at you, her big hand stroking over the back of your head before she reaches out to smack at Jake’s forehead. “You were too rough with her, skxawng–”

“I was not– ouch, damn!” Jake flinches back, ducking down and using you as a floppy sort of human shield. “Okay, okay. You alright, honey?”

“Mm. Tired.” You mumble. You feel like you’ve just had all the thoughts fucked right out of your head, because you can barely string a sentence together right now.

“I have balms back at home,” Neytiri ensures you, her lips dragging over your temple. “Where you should be.”

You manage a breathless sort of laugh, your toes curling at the sound of that. They’ve always invited you into their home, but you’ve always been a little worried about overstaying your welcome. Now, all wrapped up in their naked embrace in your little blissful post-coital puddle, you find yourself almost deliriously thrilled about going back home with them.

“You hurt?” Jake asks, his voice rasping pleasantly in your ear. It sends a pleasant tingle down your spine, but that disappears almost instantly as his big fingers prod at the oversensitive lips of your pussy.

“Ow! Fuck, Jake, what is wrong with you-” You grouse, slapping his hand away from you. “No, I’m fine, but I’m sensitive down there. I don’t need your fat fucking fingers poking inside of me again.”

“You loved my fat fucking fingers before.” He grumbles, but there’s a teasing edge to his voice as he places a tiny kiss on the back of your neck. “Neytiri’s too, huh?”

Your cheeks heat in embarrassment, but there’s no point denying that. You just grumble incomprehensibly, burrowing deeper into their arms. Jake snickers, shuffling closer so that he’s completely plastered against your back, his big arm wrapped around both you and Neytiri.

Neytiri hums, enjoying Jake’s arm around her as her own hand trails over the valley of your waist and hips. “No need for others, syulang. You have us, yes? We look after you.”

You breathe a weak laugh, but your answer is interrupted by an ominous creaking noise coming from beneath you. There’s a brief pause, and then an almighty crash as your rickety old bed breaks from the weight of the two full grown Na’vi bodies laying atop of it. You squeal, but there’s really no need because Jake and Neytiri hardly flinch at all. They just glance down as though the wreckage of your bedframe is nothing more than a mild inconvenience.

“Oh my god.” You squeak, sitting up to try and see the damage.

“Does not matter.” Neytiri says dismissively. She’s stretching out, her lithe body elongating as she yawns like a big cat. “You will just stay in our bed.”

There’s a pause. You nearly start laughing, though you manage to bite back your reaction. Oh god, you’ve just fucked your best friends. It feels as though Jake has managed to screw your braincells right out of your skull, because all you can do is gape at their big, sexy bodies like an absolute moron. Not only have you just fucked your friends, but they’re also clearly expecting you to come back home with them.

“Lie back down,” Jake murmurs, reaching out to beckon you back to their sides.

“I should shower,” You mumble, but you’re already laying back down. Your hips are sore from being stretched so wide, and you have no confidence that you’re actually able to stand without your knees buckling. “I feel gross.”

“Bathe with us back at the village.” Jake says immediately, his wide nose burying itself into the back of your neck. He breathes deeply, and his chest rumbles in a quiet purr. It sends soothing little reverberations down your spine, encouraging you to relax into his big body.

You have a feeling that he just wants you to walk around the village, stinking of the two of them. You also have a feeling that it’s the same reason behind Neytiri leaving all of those throbbing hickeys behind on your body wherever her mouth could reach, and you can’t fight the tired smile growing on your face. You’re too tired to argue, and just flop bonelessly between the two of them, enjoying your warmth. It’s so familiar, laying in their shared embrace. You’ve been doing this for years, although admittedly it’s usually with the rest of the family and you’re usually clothed, but it’s still comfortably domestic and intimate.

You suppose you’ll doze for a while, napping in wreckage of your shitty old bed in the pleasant afterglow of what was probably the best sex of your life. Jake and Neytiri have burrowed so deep into your life, your mind, your body, that everything feels so bizarrely natural with them.

You won’t sleep long, you think as you cuddle up against Neytiri’s smooth skin, with Jake’s bulk curling around your back. Dinner will be soon, and you’re hungry.

Besides, you had promised Lo’ak you’d be there.

#no one @ me asking about word count i dont wanna talk about #sex education #bsf jake #jake sully #jake sully x reader #neytiri x reader #jake sully x human reader #jake x reader x neytiri #na'vi x human #terato #avatar x reader #avatar 2009 #awow #avatar way of water

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etherealkissed88 · 7 months

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★ the whole point of law of assumption is that you already have it ★

imagine that you manifested that desire a week or a month ago. whenever you think about that desire, you would go straight into the happy or calm state / assumption that it's yours already...because it is yours already.

lets say i want $500k right now. i would be planning which stores i want to go to and which clothes i want to buy. i would feel happy asf and i would feel that feeling of already having $500k. i dont care how or when it will manifest bc i already know its mine now. i would feel fulfilled with this already manifested desire which is now my reality.

"why is it that your reality already if it isnt in the 3d?"

reality = imagination. therefore if i imagine something and accept it as true, it is my reality no matter what the copy machine 3d shows me. whatever happens in imagination is what is really happening. imagination is my identity. i identify as the girl who has $500k. the 3d's job is only to copy and paste who i am in imagination (the real reality) so, imagination is the source/the reality. why would i care about it being in the 3d if i know by law that it will reflect? i would rather feel fulfilled as the source than wait for a copy machine to show me, god, what i desire. i would rather give it to myself.

if i already manifested that $500k a week ago, i would automatically be excited asf thinking about all the shit i already bought w that $$$ and thinking about what im going to buy. i would prob imagine going to the store and feeling that feeling of financial freedom. i would feel the happiness of looking at something in the store and immediately putting it in my cart with no issues bc I ALREADY MANIFESTED MY $500k

"feeling?"

feeling = knowing you have your desire

i would use whatever technique i want (visualization, affirming, scripting, etc). lets say i choose visualization: i would visualize walking to the store and feeling/knowing that i have all this money to spend. feeling doesnt mean emotions even though its fine that i naturally feel happy bc i know i have all this money. its also okay if i dont have any emotions or if i feel calm bc since i already have it, its normal to me to have $500k. do not force emotions. feeling does not equal emotions. i would then accept that visualization as true. i would decide/accept i have that $500k bc i just experienced the proof in the real reality, imagination. i would remind myself that whatever i assume/accept as true in imagination is reality, no matter whatever circumstances i see in the 3d.

"you got robbed of a huge sum of money. was that bad or good? well, let me ask you this: did it change the fact that your nature is being wealthy? no, it didnt. your identity, your I AM, is set in stone. its only your thoughts and your interpretation of your emotions and of the circumstances around you that distracts you from your Truth. whether you have millions in your bank account or literally 0 in savings, you ARE rich. you ARE wealthy. numbers do not define you. life does not define you."

i accepted that i have $500k already = i identify as the girl who has $500k. this is why the 3d never matters bc no matter what happens, i will always be the one who has it in imagination. "deny the senses" mean i shouldnt care about what the 3d shows me since imagination is the only reality. if my bank account shows me $0.50 instead of $500k, will i be sad and thinking that it didnt work? ofc not, i wouldnt give a fuck bc i still identify as the girl who already has $500k.

this is why knowing and fulfillment are important. i know i have $500k, i am fulfilled with that fact. whats important is the knowing: i know i have this desire because i just imagined it and imagination is the only true reality so imagining = experiencing.

"how do i know if im fulfilled?"

youve accepted the fact that its already yours. you dont care about the 3d and you dont get discouraged by it bc its already yours in imagination. you are not "trying" to get something that you already have. you naturally think thoughts/have beliefs that match with your state of having it.

to be fulfilled i simply decide i have it or visualize again for fun. since i already identified as the one who has $500k, any thoughts, doubts, circumstances that pass will not get any attention from me. i simply dont identify with them. i go back into imagination and remind myself of my real identity.

this is what law of assumption is: ASSUME YOU ALREADY HAVE IT! CREATION IS FINISHED. YOU ARE ALREADY IN BARBADOS. assume = accept something as final without [3d] proof. the only thing i should be accepting as final is having it in imagination.

if you already have it, how would you feel, what would you do, what would you think, what type of person would you identify as? visualize/affirm/script/etc. the point is that you already have it.

ASSUME IT AND ITS DONE. WHEN YOU THINK ABOUT THAT FULFILLED DESIRE, KNOW IT ALREADY HAPPENED. YOU ARE IMAGINING/AFFIRMING TO REMIND YOU THAT IT BEEN HAPPENED! THATS YOUR CURRENT REALITY! NOT THE 3D.

its not "going to happen". the moment u imagined it/decided it/accepted it as true, it ALREADY HAPPENED. thats part of understanding that imagination is the only true reality. imagination is so limitless: you do anything, anywhere, instantly.

there should not be any "when is it going to happen?" since you just experienced it...thinking like that means you arent fulfilled. simply fulfill yourself again bc returning to the state aka making it natural for you is how it shows up in the 3d, its not about how long youve stayed in the state.

make imagination your dream world by giving yourself exactly what you want. know thats the truth, identify as the one in imagiantion who has it (the real reality/the real you) and ignore/dont accept anything that tells you otherwise. stay true to imagination.

@etherealkissed88

#loassumption #manifesting #consciousness #loa blog #3d #4d #neville goddard #edward art #4d reality #desired life #void state #wish fulfillment #etherealkissed #law of assumption #imagination #master manifestor #manifesting it

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konigsblog · 6 months

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YANDERE 141, KÖNIG

CHARACTERS: 141 + könig.

WARNINGS: kidnapping, murdering (not reader or any characters), panty stealing, sexual implication on Gaz's one, love bombing, guilt tripping. tell me if i missed any.

A/N: i did this a while ago, but i wanna rewrite it since my writing has changed since! also, i know it's random to add könig but he's my favourite, my husband, and i love to talk about him as a yandere!

proofread.

Captain John Price

Your captain always had the hots for you. From stealing your panties from your clothing hamper, to perving on you in the communal showers. When he finally gave in to the nagging voice in his head and took you, it left you shocked.

He'd always put pressure on you. He'd always overwork you and give you extra reports, and when you asked the others if they had any reports due, they had noticeably less than you had. You had a lot of weight on your shoulders, always rushing reports and having them handed back, your captain expecting more.

So, you put in more effort. Quickly enough, you were exhausted from overworking yourself and the hard work during missions that you pleaded with John to give you a break. Even laswell could sense you were burned out. But John didn't believe you were tired enough. And if you really were, you should just leave the military – I mean, after all, it doesn't seem like your thing.

He made you feel like you weren't good enough to be a part of his team. He always berated you for doing something wrong, an accident that could've been made easily and by anyone. The others took notice of this but didn't say anything in fear of their captain lashing out on them instead.

No one was surprised when you left. Laswell talked about transferring you to another team, since she saw great potential with you. But with John in your ear telling you to leave this industry, you decided that this clearly wasn't your thing.

Once you were gone, you were at ease, but feel as if something was going to go wrong sooner or later. Would your new job fire you? What would the others think of you leaving them like this?

You noticed a few pairs of panties missing, and as if someone were following you around. It left you fearful and almost isolated as you refused to leave your flat, awoken by the sound of glass shattering and a dark shadow of a burly figure looming over your body. Before you could react, a cloth was brought to your mouth, forcing you to become limp in a matter of minutes due to the oddly medical scent filling your nostrils.

Waking up locked and chained to the wall in a basement wasn't what you expected when you first left the military. You imagined marrying someone and living a peaceful life, but soon enough, you were frantically shaking the chains in an attempt to flee. To no use though, as soon, the sounds of boots stomping against the floor above you could be heard and the noise of keys rattling.

John is a cruel yandere. He enjoys seeing you ruined and raw, bruised from his punishments. He sure as hell isn't afraid to put you in your place, especially when you misbehave and curse him out. “What good s'that gonna do for ya'?” he mumbled, smoking the cigar between his teeth, pushing boot down against your cheek.

He loved to humiliate and embarrass you, to make you feel worthless beneath him. He tuts and scoffs, leaning down so the stench of tobacco and smoke could enter your nostrils. Cigar burns along your thighs when you seriously missed behaved, he had to make sure he left a mark on you, that he wore you down and ruined you beyond comprehension, so he could talk to you as if you were worth nothing and have no consequence.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

A very, very calm and nonchalant yandere. He enjoys having you like a pet beneath him, on your knees and forced to obey him.

He'd fallen head over heels with you when you joined the 141. God, how could he not? With the way you look at him after sparring, exhausted and panting, drained of all your strength as he slams you down against the ground for the tenth time.

Simon loves to tease you, he gets satisfaction off the sounds of your giggles and laughs. But, at times he leaves you confused with tears in your eyes from his snarky, hurtful comments. Talking with other men was a huge no for Simon, as he felt like he was at competition for his darling.

He'd planned to take you away while on deployment. He found your address and decided he'd pay you a nice visit when you were walking out drunk from a bar, kidnapping you and throwing you into his van and driving away with the love of his life.

With Simon's obsession, came delusion. He didn't fully understand how you couldn't comprehend why he'd done this. Of course, he wanted to protect you! Shouldn't you be more grateful that you don't have to do any work, that he provides and takes care of you?

Whenever you sobbed and hid against the wall, he'd roll his eyes and order you to sit between his thighs, so he could pet you like an obedient dog. You always gave him those watery eyes that made the guilt waver in his chest, but it was ignored as he scoffed and slapped you across the cheek lightly; a warning.

When you weeped into the pillow, he laid beside you, his arms wrapped around your figure, holding your precious body against his own. He shushed you, your hands tied with handcuffs behind your back and your ankles tied with rope. There was no way he was allowing you to be without him, he couldn't live!

You want him to stay healthy, mentally and physically? Then you stay beside him like an eager puppy, his one and only.

John ‘Soap’ Mactavish

A delusional, lovesick yandere. He can't be without you... he simply can't and wouldn't stand it any longer.

He met you at a bar, with the 141 and he grew a liking to you when you always listened and laughed along with his stupid jokes. It gave him confidence and made him believe that you were interested in him, despite excusing it as ‘just being nice’.

There was no ‘just being nice’, he was sold on the idea of you loving him, and once he got your number, he was over you. Creepy, overprotective messages made you feel uneasy and almost weirded out when he scolded you for wearing an outfit he didn't approve of to a party. How did he know you were at a party?

When asked, he said he was friends with someone there and that he saw you with your friends. It put your mind at ease and you almost felt relaxed for a minute, before your phone lit up with a notification from him.

“Ye' shouldnae be awake so late, love.” he typed out. You weren't on your phone, therefore, how would he know you were awake? Your status didn't say online, and there was no reason for him to assume that you were awake at midnight for no reason.

Until you saw him.

Standing in the hallway of your flat, your eyes wide open as you drop your glass of red wine all over your white carpet. You back up, panting and grabbing your phone in an attempt to call the police, before he gave you a threatening gaze that had you paused in time.

He approached you, sitting beside you on the couch and bringing you into his arms. He leaned you back against his lap so that your head was laying on his lap. Johnny traced his fingertips up and down your cheeks, humming to himself and chuckling at your fearful expression.

He put the muzzle of a gun beside your ear, whispering something to you before hitting you in the head with the gun, knocking you out. Of course, he hadn't shot you. He would never. But he had you bound and gagged on the floor of his basement back in Scotland, naked and bare and fully revealed to him. “Couldnae help mysel'...” he chuckled.

Johnny is a delusional yandere. He sees nothing wrong in what he's doing. Delusional and obsessive, completely attached to you and believes you could do no wrong. Whenever you cry to him that you hate him, a frown replaces his once smile as he forces you down against the couch, forcing you to apologise otherwise he would throw you in the basement without a second thought.

He also loves to pretend that you two are a happy couple. He only locks you away if you're naughty, otherwise he has an arm around your waist and he's bringing a glass full of wine to your lips, having you fall asleep against his shoulder. And he's also extremely creepy; giggling, you'll wake up to him taking photos of you whilst you sleep, watching as you cower and shy away in fear.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick

He's a delusional guilt tripper. He'd met you through other friends and became utterly and completely fascinated with your life. He'd love to fantasize about you all day long, thinking of your future together.

Kyle, like Johnny, believed you two were compatible and that had him drooling for you. Always desperate to please and impress you. He'd always gaze over at you and ask you first a question, speaking to you the entire night long until you both knew a lot about eachother.

You two hooked up which fed into the delusions of your love. He wouldn't let you leave the next morning, he'd begged and pleaded with you until tears to stay that extra bit longer. He needed you.

He wrapped his arms around you and rubbed his bare chest against your back. You were, of course, were weirded out by his sudden behaviour, but the strong sense of sorrow and guilt bloomed in your chest. Eventually, you fell asleep beside him, assuming he was also knocked out asleep.

He wasn't.

In fact, you woke up chained to the bed. Your wrists and ankles were chained and spread out, your eyes widening as he caressed your body. His touch wasn't sexual, not like the night prior, but it was tender and full of love like you two were married.

His eyes also grew big when he saw you were awake. He sighed, cupping your jaw to lean in and kiss you, all confused when you attempted to wriggle away. Kyle took offense to this and decided that if you weren't going to listen, he would make you.

Kyle dragged you about by the neck, rope around your neck and acting as a leash. He sobbed, screaming at you for acting so clueless. You lead him on, and now he was blaming you for everything wrong in his life.

How could you!? How could you lead this sweetheart on and make him truly believe he was finally loved? What sick, twisted prick does something as horrible as that?

Your eyes glistened as he yelled, gripping your jaw and crumbling to his knees. God, he was amazing, a mastermind at making you feel bad. He could for tears out of nowhere, smiling widely when you comply.

“Yes, yes... that's it, finally behaving for me?” Kyle smiled cruelly, he could see tears streaming down your cheeks from his scoldings, trapped with him and his forced love.

König

Oh, this poor man believes you want him just like he wants you. He's utterly shocked and heartbroken when you turn him down, that he's too creepy and always stalking you! He's oblivious to the fact that he does this... please, understand this poor man!

Instead of moving on, he takes matters into his own hands. There was no way you didn't love him, I mean, he believed up and down that you were made for him. Fuck, he even planned your future together.

His jaw dropped and his lips parted, anger filled his eyes as he stormed off.

Watching you from afar and admiring the way you walked. The way you talked to other men, what did they have that he didn't!? You couldn't do this, König wasn't allowing it. His jealousy grew bigger every day, and when he realised you had a boyfriend, it boiled over the edge.

Crimson stained the soles of his boots as he walked off. The sound of the snow crunching beneath his heavy weight, leaving your boyfriend's body bloodied and lifeless. No more competition, soon enough you'd cling to your ex-best friend, sobbing about your boyfriend's death.

He knew you like the back of his palm, of course you'd come crawling back with tears in your eyes. He hates to know that he caused those many tears, thinking about his sins and brushing them off so he could comfort his darling.

The police were clueless, just like you. You cried and stayed over every single night, cuddling into König and leaving his shirt wet from your tears. “Mäusi, I just can't believe all these tears are for him.” the tone of his snarky, jealous attitude was back and it immediately caught your attention.

You were shocked that he'd say something like that. Of course, they were for him! He was dead, murdered even, for goodness sake... You had cursed him out, sitting up and looking down at the man laying beside you, wiping your cheek.

He gritted his teeth and sat up, gripping you by the neck and pushing you back down against the mattress. He never wanted to have these outbursts, he wanted you to feel happy and joyful when you were with him. Guilt immediately hit him like a bombshell, but there wasn't any going back and he knocked you out with a single hit.

Life in König's basement was hell on Earth. Soon, you were crying for him not to abandon you in the basement. You'd forgive him, it was alright. A happy smile appeared on his face, it made you ill. He made you feel queasy when he hugged you so tightly you thought he'd kill you with a hug.

Spoon feeding you meals and love bombing you until you feel inclined to love him back, Stockholm Syndrome. After all, he did all this for you. Surely the giant deserves something in return.

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domnamewoman · 7 months

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MK1 Characters React To: Being Pinned To The Wall By Their Crush To Hide On A Mission

Characters: Liu Kang, Raiden, Kung Lao, Johnny Cage, Kenshi Takahashi, Kitana, Mileena, Tanya, Sub-Zero, Scorpion, Smoke, Reptile, Baraka, Shang Tsung, Rain

Warnings: GN!Reader

Masterlist

Requests Are Open

Liu Kang’s first priority is making sure that you both are safe and undetectable by the enemy. It isn’t until after he confirms your safety that he realizes just how close you are. So close that he can feel your breath brushing over him on every exhale. Despite enjoying the proximity he doesn’t want to risk you feeling uncomfortable so he backs off.

“I think we are in the clear now. Let’s find our way back to the exit.”

Raiden is overthinking everything from the moment you press up against him. Should he hold his breath because breathing in your face is rude, right? Should he close his eyes because him staring at you just has to be making you feel awkward, isn’t it? So caught up in his head he doesn’t even realize that you moved back until you ask if he is okay.

“What… Oh, y-yes I’m okay. Let’s get out of here.”

Kung Lao uses this opportunity to appreciate your features up close. The way your eyelashes brush against your cheeks. The little mole on your chin that he never noticed before. Your smell… It’s simply intoxicating. He would be so focused on memorizing every detail that he didn’t notice the enemy left until you cleared your throat to get his attention.

“I’m sorry, I was just… never mind, let’s get going.”

Johnny Cage takes full advantage of the situation and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. Can you blame him? The cart you’re hiding behind is too small so you have to be as close as possible not to be spotted, obviously. That’s also the reason he has to lean his head against your shoulder. He’s just too tall! It’s definitely not because he wants to nuzzle into you, his lips brushed against your neck completely by accident. Really.

“I think I still hear someone walking around. Let’s stay here for a bit longer.”

Kenshi Takahashi is cursing his heightened senses right now. He is hyper-focused on you and only you. Your addicting scent, the warmth seeping into him from every point your bodies are connected. It takes all of his willpower not to just melt into you. Once you pull away he takes a calming breath and tries to get his brain to focus back on why you both are even here.

“Right, the mission… Let’s uh, let’s head that way.”

Kitana is only worried about the mission getting ruined if you both get caught. That is why she is surprised when she notices her hand over your mouth keeping you from making a sound and the tight grip she has on your shirt, holding you against the wall. This is not how she pictured finally getting this close to you going. She blinks as she releases you and takes a step back.

“My apologies… We just, we can’t get caught.”

Mileena smiles as you press up against her, happy with the turn of events. She knows that you like her just as much as she likes you. She uses this time to tease you by pushing her chest into you and blowing her warm breath against your neck. Her thigh finds its way between your legs. It amuses her to see you try to remain quiet and unbothered by her actions.

“We should try this another time… under different circumstances.”

Tanya tries to remain calm as your bodies are pressed against each other. She can’t believe that you both are in this situation right now… but she doesn’t exactly hate it. You smell so good and your body is so warm. It’s better than what she’d imagined being pressed against you would feel like. The only downfall is that you both were hiding in enemy territory. Oh right… the mission.

“I think we’re all clear. Let’s find a way out of here.”

Bi-Han can’t help grabbing onto your hips as you push him against the wall. He would be lying if he said he didn’t love the feeling of your bodies pressing against each other. He only wished it was happening under different circumstances than hiding from the enemy. Maybe after you both get what you came here for, he will finally make a move and make his intentions clear.

“Come, let’s finish up and head back home.”

Kuai Liang would try and create as much distance between you as he could, which would be futile. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Even though all he wants to do is pull you into his arms and hold you tightly, he would contain himself. He respects you and your personal space and all he can do is hope that someday you would want him in it.

“They’re gone. Sorry about that… We can go now.”

Tomas doesn’t know what to do with himself. He keeps his arms down to his sides, hands gripping his pants legs. That is the only thing he can do to keep himself from reaching out and embracing you. Something that he has longed to do since shortly after meeting you. Why can’t he think of anything besides how stunning you look, even now?

“Do you, uh… Do you think they left? We should probably get going.”

Syzoth’s brain is malfunctioning. He can’t control the way his body reacts to having you in his personal space. He tries to stop the low rumble of a purr-like growl forming in his chest because one, how embarrassing, and two, he doesn’t want to give away your location. You two were hiding from the enemy for goodness sake! This definitely wasn’t the time.

“Um, can we… Maybe we can sneak around the corner.”

Baraka was surprised that you didn’t mind being this close to him. Ever since being affected with Tarkat, nobody wanted to be even a few feet away from him, much less in physical contact. Being this close to you just reminded him of how much he missed physical affection. He hopes that since you aren’t afraid of touching him, his affection for you won’t be rejected.

“Come on, I will fight our way out of here if I must. You don’t have to worry.”

Shang Tsung believes that this is right where you both belong, in each other’s arms. He desires nothing more, not even power or influence (although they’re pretty close), than he desires to be able to hold you close to him daily. He will stop at nothing to convince you that you belong with him. He’ll start by showing you how capable he is by protecting you.

“These imbeciles are no match for my magic. We’ll be out of here shortly.”

Zeffeero bit his lip trying to ignore your thigh pressed against his crotch. You seemed oblivious to your position and just how hard you were making it for him to hold on to his last strands of self-control. How did you not know how you affected him? He thought he was being pretty forward with his flirting but you never seemed to get the hint. Maybe he should talk to that Johnny guy? Later, you two needed to get out of here first.

“Let’s sneak attack him once he turns around. Get ready… Now!”

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purple-babygirl · 3 months

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my bucky?

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x f!reader (reader is little in the very beginning)

Word count: 7,390

Summary: Bucky's angel finally sees the hidden side of him.

Warnings: details of violence, kidnapping, getting shot, physical abuse by kidnappers, slapping, too much crying, angst

A/N: to all the nonnies that came to me once and asked "what if angel saw bucky beating someone up?" "what if angel gets kidnapped?", this is for you💜 i hope you have a good time with this one, loves x💜

Whenever he’d think of her, he’d think of jasmines. Soft, fragrant, pure-looking, fragile, beautiful jasmines. Like jasmines, she released her sweet perfume engulfed by the darkness of his night. Only he got to bask in her aroma. And like a jasmine in autumn, he’d fallen for her evergreen soul and he’d fallen hard.

Bucky knew she saw him through a pink lens. She ate up his lies like candy and although he felt bad, he knew it was for the best. He could visibly see her running out the door whenever he’d imagine someone opening her eyes to how cruel he actually was. It was selfish, but it was easier for him and safer for her this way. Better for both of them.

Luck wasn’t exactly his best friend though.

Bucky would never forget the look in her innocent, teary eyes as she watched him literally beat the life out of a man with all his might. He knew it was fairly stupid of him to do it in the back of his own garage, right next to his house where she was peacefully getting ready to call it a night. But he just couldn’t hold back when he saw the guy’s dumb face when his men brought him in.

“Miss?” She found Roseanne by the door, looking more nervous than usual.

She was shocked, no, terrified at the scene she couldn’t take her eyes away from. How and why was she even here in the first place?

Daddy said he’d be back for story time but he hasn’t been back yet. What was taking him so long?

She couldn’t fall asleep if his voice wasn’t lolling her to sleep. She couldn’t fall asleep if it wasn’t in his arms. Life without him just didn’t make sense anymore.

She got out of bed, slipped in her fluffy cat slippers and went on a little quest to find him. Bucky was always happy to see her so he’d forgive her for getting out of bed where he’d expected her to wait.

“Roseanne, have you seen my Bucky?” she asked with a smile.

“I think he’s busy right now, miss. You better wait in your room where it’s warm,” Roseanne tried to tempt her, using the cold as a good reason why she shouldn’t go outside where Bucky was.

The young woman looked distressed, like she was scared of something.

“What’s wrong, Roseanne? Is daddy okay?” she questioned the poor maid, her smile leaving her face.

“Yes, miss. Don’t worry. He’s just a little busy but he’ll be here soon.”

“Is he in the office?”

“I— I don’t know, miss. I think he is,” Roseanne lied.

She tilted her head suspiciously before running to the office to check it out, leaving Roseanne’s pleads for her to get back to the bedroom behind.

It seemed even more suspicious now that Bucky was nowhere to be seen in his office. It didn’t feel right and she had to find Bucky and make sure he was okay. Bucky always knew how to calm all her worries. He knew what to do and what to say.

Bucky protects her and is here for her.

But wait a minute, she didn’t hear his car leave. And if the car didn’t leave then Daddy was certainly in the house, she just missed him while looking.

She roamed the whole mansion, up and down, checking every room twice and she still couldn’t find her daddy.

Her mind was getting cloudier and she was getting more scared. Did daddy leave? Where would he go without letting her know that he’d be leaving? Why didn’t he kiss her forehead goodnight before leaving?

She made her way outside the main door and took sure steps to the large garage, once again taking no regard of Roseanne’s begging, confident in her smart train of thought.

When she arrived at the garage though, the pants she heard startled her to a halt as she ducked behind the black Range Rover.

Was that really Bucky? Her Bucky? Beating up a man to the point where his features weren’t recognizable anymore? That wasn’t possible. Her daddy was a sweetheart. He was the gentlest man she’s ever met and he wouldn’t hurt anyone like that. She knew he was feared because of his work, but he couldn’t kill anyone. Could he?

She peeked around and fell silent as a rock. The sight before her made her feel cold, leaving her poor mind perplexed.

On the first look, she couldn’t fathom what she was looking at. She wanted to look away. She did. But she couldn’t will her head to turn even just a little.

“How stupid do you have to be to think I wouldn’t know you were sent here to hurt my girl?”

A stronger pang hit her little heart when she realized this was happening because of her.

No, this was no bad dream though she’d hoped with all her heart that it was.

She’d made Daddy promise that he wouldn’t hurt anybody on her behalf. He’d promised to choose forgiveness if it was an option. It didn’t make any sense.

Was she too sleepy that she was seeing things? Did her little mind fall asleep without a story anyway and she was having a nightmare?

Sam had seen her first, wide eyes tearing up at the sight of her man smashing another’s face with his fist. He’d tried to tell Bucky, but it was too late. She’d already seen it all.

Those fingers that have ever so tenderly glided across her cheeks time and time again were hidden behind brass knuckles, covered in someone’s blood. That jaw that has only ever tensed from smiling too much around her was clenched, making him look scarier than she could’ve ever imagined him to be. His eyebrows were furrowed and his breaths heavy as he repeatedly and ruthlessly punched the man on the chair.

Her fear intensified when she’d recognized the beaten up man as their newest driver. She remembered him trying to repeatedly ask her if she wanted to go get ice cream with him when Bucky wasn’t home. She also remembered saying no like she was taught. She remembered Bucky promising to choose forgiveness if it was an option again and she saw him break his promise.

“Bucky, enough!” Sam pulled him away from the tied up guy, head nodding to the black vehicle.

Her head went dizzy when she thought of all the men she’d complained to Bucky about since they’d started their relationship. Have they all faced the same fate?

Who was this heaving, bloody-fisted beast before her? Did she ever know Bucky at all? Was he ever truthful about anything he’d told her or was it all just a big lie? How could she trust him with herself ever again? Who was her daddy really?

The walls around Bucky collapsed and he almost collapsed with them when he saw her face. She was there and she’d seen everything. His angel saw it all. His angel was scared. She was scared of him.

“Angeră?”

Her legs no longer wanted to hold her up once she heard his hoarse voice. The air was out of her lungs as she took slow steps back until she pressed herself to one of the grey walls behind her. The stuffie in her hands fell to the ground and with it her heart.

She wanted to run, but her cold body wouldn’t budge. Maybe if she could go back to the house right now, listen to Roseanne, stay in bed, and pretend this never happened, Bucky would miraculously come back with a perfectly healed, clean hand and they would peacefully have a cuddling session while his loving voice told her a story.

“Please don’t hurt me,” she begged, her voice above a whisper as she cowered away from him.

Bucky carefully walked closer, visibly watching her hands tremble. He raised his clean hand to caress her cheek like he always would when she needed him to calm her down.

He wasn’t expecting her to lean into his touch like she was used to, but it still shot daggers to his heart when she flinched, closing her eyes in fear and letting out the tiniest whimper.

“Angel, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Bucky’s broken voice had her heart clenching as she saw him trying to muster up a smile.

“Stay away from me,” she said in panic when he tried to take another step towards her.

“Angeră—”

“Please, Bucky, I’m sorry.”

She didn’t call him daddy or even her Bucky. She couldn’t.

“Baby, let me—”

She shook her head, running away from a shattered Bucky, almost tripping on her own feet.

“Go, we’ll take care of him,” Sam told him, patting his shoulder.

He watched her run as if she was escaping a wild lion, terrified and fearing for her life.

Bucky slammed his fist into the concrete wall where his love once leaned before slipping the brass knuckles off his probably broken fingers and hearing them clank on the ground. He rested both palms on the wall and let his head fall down as he breathed hard.

“Dragă, nu! Te rog, (love, no please)” Bucky begged, his hands grabbing her forearms to stop her from throwing more of her things into the suitcase.

Bucky ran like a mad man on the way to their house. He had no idea what he was going to say or how he was going to justify what she’d just witnessed him do.

She called him Bucky with glossed over eyes. She was bordering on little and he just gave her the trauma of her life. He had no answers to any possible question she might rightfully throw at him. Bucky only knew that he couldn’t lose her; she was the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

He busted through the front door and ran up the stairs only to be met with her frantically packing her things, fat tears soaking her face as she hiccupped out sobs.

“Please let me leave.” Her voice trembled and more tears left her eyes. His right hand had dried blood all over it and it made her skin crawl.

“Please don’t,” Bucky pleaded again, on the verge of crying himself.

“I’m really scared. Please don’t make me stay here,” she begged Bucky, trying to slip out of his grip.

“Angel, please believe me. I will never hurt you,” Bucky swore, his eyes brimming with tears.

“Angel, of course I love you! Please just stay and listen to me, baby.” Tears rolled down Bucky’s cheeks as he took a dress out of her hands before she could pack it.

“Did you ever really love me? Would you really never hurt me? Was anything you ever told me the truth?” Her voice was way too innocent as the questions left her trembling lips.

She didn’t even sound like she was blaming Bucky, she just sounded confused. Disappointed. Hurt.

“I wanna leave. Please let me leave,” she repeated, crying harder as she tried not to let herself crumble down on the floor of their bedroom.

“Angel, please don’t say that.” Bucky shook his head, holding onto her writs for dear life, “I can’t live without you, love. I can’t.”

She looked up at him and the look she gave him let him know she wasn’t little anymore.

Bucky despised himself for making her feel and think that way, “angel—”

“Why did you ever take me? Why did you bring me here?” She asked, the reproach hurting her too, “I didn’t know what love was before you. I trusted you. I trusted you with my heart, Bucky.”

She was saying everything that came to her mind, unable to keep her thoughts inside or else it felt like they might suffocate her. She was mad at herself for letting herself trust and love when she shouldn’t have.

“Are you used to doing this to people? Do you kill people, Bucky?” Her voice broke as she asked, already fearing the answer.

“Angel, please.”

“No, answer me.” Her eyebrows furrowed in sadness, anxious of the reply she was about to receive.

Bucky closed his eyes, not wanting to see her face when he told her his truth, “yes.”

“Yes.” Bucky nodded, hot tears leaving his closed eyes.

Her breath hitched at his answer, making more tears leave his eyes.

“D-Did you do this to the other guys I complained about before, too?”

“Did you kill them?” Her tone fell with her heart.

Bucky only swallowed, going dead silent at her question.

“Oh my god.” She cried, her knees almost giving out as she tried to get her arms free from his grip.

“No, no, angel, I only drove them out of town. They’re alive.” He assured her, leaving out the details about the probable permanent disabilities some of them left town with.

“Why?” She sobbed, her shoulders hurting from squirming in his grasp with no avail.

“They were bothering you.”

“So this makes it okay to kidnap them and beat them up?!” She screamed, her tears never drying up.

“I wanted to protect you,” Bucky whispered, his heart dropping at the realization of how his angel must see him now.

“Protect me from you then and let me go.” Her words shot daggers right into the mafia boss’ chest.

“I can’t believe I loved you so much.” She whispered, mostly to herself, lamenting her foolish, trusting heart.

“Angel, I can’t. You know I can’t.” He knew she was right, but he couldn’t let her leave.

She was his whole world; his life and everything good in it.

“Loved?” Bucky could hear his heart shattering.

“Loved,” she replied despite herself, knowing too well that she was lying.

Bucky finally let her arms go after her confirmation. He knew that if he tried to hold her back now she would only end up hating him. He would rather have her leave him than hate him. He wouldn’t be able to take it.

“I’ll tell the driver to get the car ready so he could take you to your grandma’s,” Bucky told her without looking up, wiping away his tears. For now.

She didn’t reply, and only continued shoving clothes into the bag.

“I just want you to know that I’ll always be here whenever you need me. I will always be yours, angel. Even if you’re no longer mine. I love you and I will love you until the day I die.”

But all of this was nothing compared to the fear that shot up her spine when she heard gunshots making contact with the car she was inside, forcing the driver to stop abruptly.

Bucky’s last words had her sobbing even harder as she fell to her knees the moment he left her alone in the room.

She didn’t want to leave him and she never saw a day like this one coming, but she knew it was only right that she did. They were different from the beginning and she was wrong to let herself live in a daydream for too long. She had no place in Bucky’s world.

The drive back to her grandma’s house was torture. The pain of being fooled could only be overruled by the pain of fearing the only man she’s ever loved. She couldn’t ignore the feeling that she was leaving a piece of her behind in the mansion that the car just drove away from. She knew that piece was her heart and she knew that she was most likely never going to get it back. It will forever remain with Bucky.

Her tears kept coming as she silently wept in the backseat.

Pathetic fallacy was at its highest and the skies were sobbing with her. It was cold and the roads were muddy, thunder hitting every now and then, making trees shudder where they were rooted.

She cried more knowing Bucky would no longer be there to hold her through thunderstorms.

The man and the guard next to him got out their own guns but it was too late for them to do anything as another couple of bullets were shot, going right through their heads. The driver fell lifeless, face first on the driving wheel and she felt her heart stop with his.

“Let me go for your own good,” she said, trying to keep her tone confident and her pain veiled.

Before she could even think of a route to run in, a bag was put over her head, her screams futile as she got violently dragged to another vehicle before it all went completely dark with a hit to the back of her head.

“I thought we were past that shit, babygirl. Three days didn’t teach you who’s in charge yet?” Lloyd Hansen, Bucky’s biggest enemy, asked her with a provocative smile.

She was in absolute agony.

She let oud a loud, pained scream, desperately trying to pull her arm from underneath his huge shoe.

They’d untied her an hour ago after she claimed she needed the bathroom, a guard on her tail as he led her through the abandoned building.

Once inside the toilet, she managed to pick up the upper part of the toilet seat. She gained the guard’s attention with a scream, going down on his head with the heavy ceramic piece as soon as he opened the door to check on her.

She managed to run as far as the hallway of the floor she was in before a very angry Lloyd grabbed her. She surprised him with a harsh slap across the face, taking the chance to run again when he froze for a second.

Lloyd got even angrier, stretching his leg and knocking one of her feet off the ground, making her fall over. He walked over her crawling body and evilly stepped on her right wrist.

“I can’t wait to kill you,” Lloyd said, not taking his foot off before he heard a snap and a loud screech from her.

Lloyd got hold of her hair, dragging her all the way back to the room where she was previously tied up.

He tied her to the same chair again, only this time one arm got the ropes while the other was left to redden and swell.

Now she was here, on the same chair, throwing empty threats as she’s almost given up hope that Bucky might find her.

“Aww, did you hear that, boys? Little slut right here is worried for our good,” Lloyd mocked her, laughter erupting and filling the room in response.

“You’re not getting out of here, babygirl,” he spat, his voice laced with venom, “this is where you die.”

“Let me go. I won’t say it again.” Her voice almost shivered with her heart at the end of her warning.

She was scared, and in so much pain, but she couldn’t let it show. She wouldn't even cry and was sweating like crazy from the ache in her dangling wrist. She was Bucky Barnes’ girl.

“You’re making the demands now? Not even a “please” to persuade me?” Lloyd moved his face closer to hers, slowly pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear with a smirk, “or do I have to heat you a bottle to get to meet your polite side?”

She felt her face go hot as her eyes filled with tears and she couldn’t stop herself from spitting in the bastard’s face, “fuck you”.

Next thing she knew was his rough hand slapping down hard on her cheek, making her go dizzy. Blood trickled out of her nose and down to her lips right after and she couldn’t hold back her tears this time.

She was tired. Terrified. She needed Bucky.

“Your filthy mouth isn’t anything short of your boyfriend’s, but don’t worry, if you don’t know how to be respectful to your masters I have ways to teach you, and believe me, I can’t wait to start your lessons.” Hansen smirked at her wrist before spitting back at her and leaving with everyone else.

She cried harder than she has ever before, tears and blood mixing. Her body was shivering and her arms aching from being tied up in the most uncomfortable position and smashed down under Lloyd’s boot.

There was no way out for here, was there?

She knew she was done for and she didn’t have any last wishes except for getting to tell Bucky that she loved him and that she will never stop loving him one last time.

She couldn’t even pay her pain or blood any attention when all she could think about was Bucky and how he would have never let anything like that happen to her.

She remembered his soft smile that only she got to meet. The way he’d lean forward to engulf her in a hug momentarily warmed her before the iciness of the empty room made her shiver again.

She didn’t dare linger on Bucky, however.

It’s been exactly 3 days and 21 hours since his angel left him and he still couldn’t believe it.

She left him. She left and now she was here in some old factory under some asshole’s mercy. She couldn’t escape the situation she was in no matter how hard she tried. She couldn’t give her mind any kind of relief. There was none. Before she realized, her head was falling forward and she was getting a temporary break from reality.

“Bucky, are you o—” Sam cut himself off when his sight landed on his best friend’s face.

Bucky’s eyes were red with yet to be shed tears, again.

His car never reached her grandma’s because his men were murdered on the way. His angel was no where to be found and neither was Bucky’s will to live.

He kept telling himself that it wasn’t true, that she was at work; that she would eventually come back and sleep in his arms again.

However, she didn’t even call. Didn’t even look at his multiple texts. She really was missing and Bucky couldn’t face it. Between denial and heart wrenching pain, he buried himself 9 feet under.

He’s looked everywhere, asked everyone, but still couldn’t find her. It was as if she’s disappeared, turned to air.

Bucky has deserted their bedroom ever since she walked out of the mansion, the bed still as messy as she left it after she dragged the sheets down with her packed bag. Every time Bucky would enter the room he would see her leaving him, so he’d stopped. That couldn’t be his last memory of her. He slept on the couch in his office now, if at all.

And soon enough, the Bucky he used to be when she was around was dead and another angrier, more violent and very impatient Bucky had replaced him. He was always mad, at everyone and everything. And he was drinking every night, sitting on his bar for as long as he could, just to get himself hammered enough to fall in a deep unconsciousness where he didn’t have her scared eyes invading his dreams.

Sam was seriously worried for him, but there was nothing he could do; no advice he could offer. Nothing would bring that Bucky back as long as his angel was gone.

Bucky’s wallowing and Sam’s overthinking were interrupted when Bucky’s phone rang, vibrating on the ceramic floor. Bucky quickly crawled over to it, hardly believing his eyes when he saw her name in the place of the caller ID.

“Angeră?” he answered, his voice hoarse from staying silent for too long.

“Awww, you call her angel?” the voice on the other side mocked.

“Who the fuck is this?” Bucky asked, standing up slowly as his anger and worry forced him to sober up.

“You know too damn well who this is,” Lloyd answered, his smile evident in his tone as he knew he had Bucky by the throat.

“Where is she?” Bucky asked immediately.

“Tied up somewhere cold.”

“I swear on my life, if you touch her—”

“Relax, she can take a few scratches,” he replied, chuckling as if it was a joke.

“You son of a bitch!” Bucky shouted, losing his mind at the mere image of his angel being hurt.

“I’d watch my mouth if I were you, Barnes,” he snarled confidently.

“What do you want?” Bucky asked through his teeth, just wanting to get to his girl as quickly as possible.

“Let me hear her voice.”

“No,” Lloyd chuckled.

“I wanna destroy you.” Hansen laughed.

“Let her go. She has nothing to do with this.” Bucky tried his best not to sound desperate but it was obvious that he was begging for his girl’s safety.

“That’s where you’re wrong, B. She has everything to do with this.” Lloyd walked into the room where she was with a smug smile.

“Let her go.” please

“If you sound so distraught just because I’d hogged her for a couple of days, imagine how you’ll be when I erase her off the face of the earth,” Hansen said, laughing at the thought of hurting Bucky this bad.

Her face toughened up at the realization that it was Bucky on the phone.

“If you do as much as touch a hair on her head, I’m gonna kill you and everyone you know,” Bucky promised, his heart hammering in his chest as he hastily started moving.

“I might’ve broken a bone or two, but that’s only because she was a bad girl.”

“You’re dead, Hansen. Fucking dead!” Bucky promised, throwing the bottle he was drinking from across the room.

“We’ll be waiting with popcorn.” He hung up on Bucky, laughing.

“He’s gonna kill you.” She smiled once he hung up, making Lloyd grab her hair.

She hissed, trying not to show she was in pain.

“Not if I kill him first, angeră.” Lloyd spat, throwing her head forward before leaving the room.

She was horrified at the thought of anything bad happening to Bucky, but she willed her heart to trust in him. She had no time to ponder but she was actually proud of the fact that Bucky could so easily end this awful, evil man and she couldn’t wait for him to do just that.

Still, she waited for him. Something inside of her told her Bucky would never abandon her, not even to death. So she waited. Waited with the longing of all the lovers that ever were until longing had exhausted her.

It was like a slow motion dream. Doors being kicked down, guns being fired and her Bucky entering the room with a man’s body held in his left fist by the neck.

Instead, Bucky found Hansen and smacked him so hard with his metal hand that a tooth flew out. He slapped him again and his nose was bleeding. They made eye contact one more time and she noticed the difference for the first time. That wasn’t Bucky. It wasn’t her Bucky. His eyes still softened for her but the hint of revenge in them was more dominant.

He doesn’t even talk; doesn’t negotiate. He doesn’t even ask for her to be released. He doesn’t need to.

His men were getting everything done. His only mission was to look for her now. His eyes met hers but he didn’t start walking towards her like she’d expected he would.

She thought she would be afraid meeting Bucky again after what she’d witnessed him do, but she actually didn’t. Not even a tiny bit.

She was rather happy, the feeling that she was safe again warming up her body so much that she’d started sobbing.

It was like no matter how long they were away from each other, they were still together, never estranged from one another.

Bucky was on his 40th slap/punch on the man’s bloody face when he noticed her crying. He temporarily threw the man’s tired body on the ground and rushed to his girl.

He kneeled before her shaking body, wanting nothing but to make sure she wasn’t hurt.

And she was.

She looked up and could still see the coldness in his eyes despite hers being blurred by tears.

“I missed you. Is my Bucky okay?” She asked, her voice drained but not scared like Bucky had feared and expected.

“Let’s get you home, angeră,” he replied, saving his answer for now as he noticed the finger marks on her cheek.

She nodded desperately, her tied hand reaching for him despite being behind her back.

“Stop right there,” Lloyd said, crocking his gun at Bucky.

“Bucky,” she whimpered, eyes glued to her man, her anchor.

“E în regulă, angera meu, (it’s okay, my angel)" Bucky replied, getting closer to her and sticking to her side.

“No, it’s not. He’s lying to you. Just like he’s lied to you about everything else,” the man chuckled.

“Shut up,” she whispered, trying to calm down her breathing.

“Give it up, Hansen. I beat you. Again and for the last time. You’re done.” Bucky racked the slide of his gun.

“He never loved you. Do you even know who he is most of the time?” Lloyd continued, not willing to give up until Bucky was reduced to nothing before him.

“Shut up,” she repeated, wishing her hands were free so that she could cover her ears with them.

“Do you have any idea about the other side of this man you gave yourself to you poor little thin—”

“Shut up!” She shouted with all her might, “don’t speak about him like that.”

“Do you even know what you’re defending?” Hansen yelled at her with a crazy, bloody smile on his face.

“I know,” she answered calmly, “I know everything.”

Bucky looked at her in surprise, not believing what he just heard. There was no way she knew. How would she know? How would she choose to stay if she actually knew?

“Oh so you know about frosty over here?” Hansen smirked, pointing to his head.

“That’s enough, Hansen,” Bucky warned, barely controlling himself.

“I do,” she answered once more, her answer shocking Bucky yet again.

“Angel?”

“It’s okay, Bucky. I promise.” She sincerely promised, making it hard for Bucky not to tear up in the middle of the room.

“Aww, how sweet—” Hansen cooed and in a second 3 of Bucky’s bullets were in his head, neck and chest before he could say anything else.

She gasped, closing her eyes and turning her face away from the body as it collapsed on the floor with a thud.

She didn’t notice that Hansen had landed a shot at Bucky before he collapsed and Bucky didn’t even flinch as a bullet literally made it through his right shoulder. He didn’t feel the pain. He didn’t care about anything but his angel.

She was the only thing he could see and hear. Her wounds were his pain more than his own.

Bucky wordlessly kneeled down and untied her quickly. His gaze was glued to her wrists for a second before he rubbed the one that wasn’t swollen with his smoother thumb.

“What happened?” Bucky asked, referring to her other wrist.

“I'm gonna need a doctor to look at it.” Was all she gave him for an answer.

He silently opened his arms for her and she threw herself in them without an ounce of hesitation, crying more now that she was home.

She was so scared she wouldn’t get to feel like this again. She let herself let go. She then closed her eyes and finally succumbed to the cozy darkness now that she was safe.

Instead, Roseanne looked at her with a teary smile, “welcome back, miss.”

She lost all sense of consciousness that she didn’t hear Bucky shoot the man’s dead body a fourth and a fifth time with her in his arms as he took another look at her wrists.

When she opened her eyes again, she was back in Bucky’s bed, but Bucky wasn’t by her side.

“Roseanne, I missed you so much,” she replied, unable to stop her own tears.

“Thank goodness you’re okay,” Roseanne said, breaking the hug to let her rest her back.

She invited Roseanne for a hug with her good arm as she noticed the other was in what looked like a cast.

Lloyd had broken her wrist.

“Mr. Barnes is in his office,” she told her while adjusting the pillow behind her when she noticed her eyes roaming the spacious room.

“Is he mad?” she asked, more tears gathering in her tired eyes.

“At himself, maybe.” Roseanne shrugged politely.

“Please help me go to him, Roseanne.”

“One more thing though.” Roseanne chew on her lip.

“What’s wrong?”

He didn’t know what he would’ve done with himself if something had happened to her and he kept blaming himself as he sat there with his right arm in a sling.

“Mr. Barnes has been shot.”

Bucky didn’t care to look when the door to his office opened, not knowing that she was awake and too busy wiping his tears of regret.

He’s been like this since he got her home and in his bed again. His tears were unstoppable now that he saw the results of his lifestyle on the one girl he chose and held closest to his heart. In fact, he cried more every time he took a look at her angelic figure tiredly sleeping in his large bed as the doctor patched up her broken wrist.

She was so small, so pure and so so good for this world. Her face was fainter and the spark was gone and he was sure Lloyd didn’t feed her. The fading finger marks she had on her cheek, the rope burns around her wrists and ankles and the cast around her forearm slashed new wounds at his heart.

“Bucky,” she called out faintly, her head and body still aching a little, heart dropping when she saw him with his arm hanging, “are you okay?”

He stood up and helped her sit in his chair, not sure if it was okay for him to carry her and sit her on his desk like he usually would.

He hastily wiped his eyes with his hand to look at his baby.

“Hi, angel,” he tried to say with a smile but his voice cracked as another tear escaped down his red cheek.

She surprised him by using his chair as a step to get on top of his desk, pointing to the chair for him to sit back down.

Bucky was on eye level with the marks on her ankles as she settled her bare feet on his lap.

What was he going to say now that she was awake? And most importantly, what was she going to say?

“My Bucky,” she could recognize the difference between this man and the man who started her rescue right away.

Bucky was stunned to see she could see it despite everything. He didn’t want her to ever find out about that side of him and it killed him even more that she caught the difference. How on earth did she find something like this out?

“All yours, angel.” He tried to compose himself, for her.

She couldn’t bare seeing him like this. It was like she’s forgotten about everything that happened before this very moment and all she could do was sit up and hold his face to lovingly wipe his sorrows away with her left hand.

It was enough time away from Bucky.

“I’m okay, Bucky. I’m okay,” she tried to reassure him, only making him cry harder as the dam broke when she rubbed his shoulder.

“Iarta-ma, iubita mea. Te rog. Iarta-ma. (forgive me, my love. Please, forgive me)" He sobbed, moving his lips to the palms of her hands to leave wet kisses all over the reddened skin.

“I’m okay, I swear,” she repeated, not knowing what to do or say.

“I forgive you. Please don’t cry; we’re good,” she said it to him in the kindest tone like it was the easiest thing to say.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you give me the chance to. Please, love,” Bucky cried like a child in her lap.

No, he couldn’t even remember a time when he cried like this as a child despite all that he’d gone through. He didn’t care though. He was going to do whatever it took for his angel’s forgiveness. He disappointed her, broke her heart and risked her life. Bucky was going to beg until the end of time if he could.

Bucky shook his head, crying harder, “no, you’re good. You’re too good to me, angel. Too good. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you. Never did.”

It sent a knife to his heart that she still sincerely called him her Bucky after everything she’s been through just because he was in her life; because he was selfish enough to bring her into his without a care.

He was still beating himself up over it. And how could he not when everything terrible that’s ever happened to her had happened because of him? He traumatized her more than anyone ever could have and he’s gotten her hurt time and time again.

This girl who’s made him feel like he could stand against the whole world all by himself with no fear just because she called him her lover. This girl who taught him loyalty, kindness and love and was now teaching him forgiveness. This girl was sitting before him with a broken wrist and heart telling him not to worry about it.

“Don’t say that, please. I’m alive right now thanks to you, my Bucky.” Her own tears rolled down her cheeks before she could stop them.

She loved him more than anything and wished she could make him see that. Oh how she was dying to make him see how safe and loved he made her feel.

“You mean you were taken and hurt thanks to me.” Bucky casted his eyes down, too ashamed to even look at her marked face.

“Bucky—”

“I get it if you still wanna leave me. And I will let you. I would never make you do anything you don't want. I just want you to know that I never lied to you about my love for you. You’ve been and still are the realist thing in my life, angel. Everything I said and did was true. I adore you.”

“Bucky, I—”

“I know it’s selfish to choose to speak about this now, but I’m afraid you’d leave before I get to tell you how in love with you I really am,” he sniffled, wiping his eyes again in vain before looking up at her, “I would die without you. Your love owns me, heart and soul. But.. if leaving me is what you choose.. and if leaving me will make you safe, I will accept it. I just need you to know that I’ve never lied to you. Angel, you are my whole life. You’re my one and only. I belong to you. I’m yours and I will die yours.”

She was speechless, too taken aback to stop herself from crying harder. Bucky’s never opened up to her about his feelings before. Not like this.

“Bucky, I love you,” she managed to whisper before he cut her off again. Before she could tell him that she felt the same way, that she was all his and will forever be his, that only him ruled over her heart.

“You don’t have to say that, angel—”

“Let me speak,” she demanded, her palm cupping his wet cheek as she grabbed him a tissue from his desk.

He nodded, biting his lip and bracing himself for the harshest ‘but’, preparing to get his heart ripped out of his chest.

“I don’t wanna leave you,” was the first thing she could get herself to say, desperately wanting to soothe his thumping heart.

Bucky’s eyes filled with more tears because he knew he didn’t deserve her.

“I forgive you. I want to tolerate this dangerous life because it lets me have you; be with you, which is the only place I ever wanna be.” She took a deep breath, her own tears continuing to fall as she wiped his.

“Baby,” Bucky whispers, hating to see her tears yet again.

“I knew you weren’t the nicest guy to others and I knew your line of business wasn’t the safest either. I just— it freaked me out when I actually got to see you inside of it. I couldn’t believe my eyes.”

Bucky lowered his head in shame again.

“In my head, especially when little, you’re incapable of hurting. In my eyes, you’re safety, Bucky. You’re home.” She brought his eyes back to hers with a hand on his cheek.

“I’m sorry, love,” Bucky was quick to apologize but she shook her head in reply.

“It might take me some time to get used to everything now that I know everything. But it didn’t affect my love for you, Bucky. Not one bit. I lied. I was so scared I would die without getting to tell you that. I still loved you more than ever even in that moment with your fist against another man’s cheek, and I guess that scared me even more. Because it was unlike the me I thought I knew. But this me, right here, is madly in love with you and she doesn’t care about anything other than being by your side for ever.”

“Angel,” Bucky sobbed, holding her hand to his lips, leaving appreciative, wet kisses on her palm, “you won’t regret it, baby, I promise. This is the last time you get hurt. I would die before I let anything like this ever happen to you again.”

“I know, and I trust you, my Bucky. If you’d give me time and if you’ll have me, I wanna be with you every moment of my life, forever.” She couldn’t not throw herself inside his arms, needing the closeness to reassure her this was real.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, holding her on his lap as tight as he possibly could.

“Lucky me,” she whispered in his shoulder.

Bucky felt himself coming alive again at the smell of jasmines in her hair and the feel of her warm body in his hold. She was a piece missing from him and now that she was back, he wasn’t going to waste a second without worshiping the steps she walked.

“I know I might need a while, but that doesn’t change anything. I still love you with my whole heart, Bucky,” she reassured, squeezing him to her even more.

“Take all the time you need, angel. I’ll be right here. I’ll wait forever if I have to.”

“Promise me something though.”

“Anything.”

“No more killing people on my behalf.”

“What if they have a gun pointed at you?”

“Okay, only in that case then because it’s self-defense.”

“I promise.” Bucky smiled, sliding her hair behind her ear before kissing her forehead.

She pressed her forehead to his with a smile, “thank you.”

“We’re injury buddies now,” she joked when they pull away making Bucky laugh out loud for the first time in days.

“Does it hurt, angel?”

"Mine doesn't hurt, you?" He kissed her covered wrist gently.

"Does it hurt?"

They both asked at the same time, making each other laugh.

“Not as much anymore,” she replies, not wanting to remember how much it hurt when she was tied up in the cold room.

“Let’s eat so you could take your pain meds.” Bucky offered her his metal hand and she took it with her good one with a content smile.

Everything was going to be okay again. She knew it. Her hand was back in Bucky's and there was nothing their love wouldn't be able to pass. This might not be the Bucky she got in a relationship with, but it was the Bucky she wanted and was going to continue it with.

He was still and was always going to be her bucky.

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worldlxvlys · 15 days

Note

Hi honey can you do a text with Matt like he likes the reader and the reader likes him but they are to scared to confess and they make really sexual and suggestive comments and jokes to each other ✌🏼 I love you 💋 Matt is kinda subby and like touches himself to her messages imagining it’s real

Love you,🥰

I have a lot of ideas so just let me know if you need any 💋

texts w/ bsf! matt (part 2)

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: smuttttt, hand job, masturbation, fantasizing

a/n: pls don’t ever stop giving me ideas this ate

previous part !

want me to help ?

any sense of self-control that i had completely left my body when i saw the sentence.

i read it over again and again, trying to figure out whether she was joking or not.

as i let my mind wander, i began to palm myself through my boxers lightly.

i thought about her face, how pretty it would look scrunched up in pleasure, while she chased her orgasm.

suddenly, i felt my phone vibrate in my hand, bringing me back to reality while i began to read the text messages.

i’d spit on the tip and watch you squirm while it dripped down.

“fuck” i sighed out, rubbing myself through the thin material as i imagined her staring up at me, her hands massaging my thighs.

my hips jerked up into the air at the thought, almost as if i could feel her teasing touches.

part of me felt guilty, imagining my best friend’s face inches away from my dick.

but if she didn’t want me to, why would she send a text like that? when we’ve flirted in the past, it was usually all jokes.

but this felt different. maybe it was the morning wood and horny state that i woke up in causing me to misjudge her intentions, or maybe she was teasing me on purpose.

either way, i had no plans of stopping myself from basking in the moment.

besides, if i have my boxers on i’m not technically touching myself to the thought of her…..right ?

i’d give you a few good pumps, squeezing the base and twisting my hand around you.

god, what was she doing ?

i began to apply more pressure to my crotch, pushing and rubbing more and more aggressively.

she was driving me crazy, it’s almost as though she wanted me to drive over to her and fuck the living shit out of her.

and with that thought, i found my mind wandering off again.

i imagined the way she’d scream my name, the way her ass would jiggle while i fucked her from behind while her legs trembled.

then i’d swirl my tongue around the tip teasingly before taking you into my mouth.

she just loved to tease me. i wonder how she’d feel if the roles were reversed.

what would she do if i rubbed my dick against her thighs ? or her stomach ? each time, managing to just miss her pussy ?

would she be a moaning mess under me, whining and crying for me to do something ?

maybe she’d grab my hand, forcing me to pump myself a few times before finally pushing into her.

i’d take every inch of you, deep throating your cock.

i was so lost in my own world, i hadn’t even realized how close i was until i was bucking my hips up into my hand, with quick gasps and curse words flying out of my mouth.

“fuck, fuck, fuck” i whispered out as my hands flew around the sheets, desperately trying to find something to hold onto.

i let out a cry of her name as i came inside of my boxers, forming a wet spot on the light-colored material.

i took in a deep breath, attempting to calm myself when i got another message.

wouldn’t stop until you begged me to.

i’d let you cum all over my face while your legs shook and your body twitched.

i quickly pulled my boxers down, throwing them haphazardly across the room.

my hand immediately flew to my dick, spreading the remains of my orgasm around, making me let out a small whine.

i began to pump myself quickly, imagining how pretty she’d look while thick spurts of my seed flew onto her face.

my eyes were scrunched up, toes curling inward while i pushed through the overwhelming amount of pleasure building inside of me.

soft whimpers fell from my mouth, as the wet sounds of my hand sliding around my dick filled the room.

my head flew back as my phone fell from my hand and onto the bed.

i imagined her on top of me, bracing herself with her hands on my knees as she rode me.

“you wanted me so bad? getting off on my text messages like a little slut? sit there and take it”

“i can’t, it’s too much” i cried out, fisting the sheets as tears pricked at the corner of my eyes.

“you can and you will. take it”

i shook my head vigorously, taking my bottom lip between my teeth. “i can’t-” i started.

she’d loop her fingers into my hair, yanking my head towards her chest.

taking the hint, i’d bring my mouth to one of her tits swirling my tongue around her nipple.

i was ripped out of my fantasy quickly, as my hips began to stutter.

i let out an embarrassingly loud whine as my load spilled out of me, covering my abs and thighs.

my body trembled, muscles contracting and relaxing as the aftershocks ran through me.

“holy shit” i whispered as the reality of the situation hit me.

i just jerked off to my best friend’s text messages.

and that was the hardest i’d ever came before.

i fucked up.

🦋🦋🦋🦋

yayyy double update bc i love you <333

masterlist

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taexual · 7 months

Text

sleepwalking ● 1 | jjk

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers / fluff / angst / smut (in later chapters)

warnings: explicit language, suggestive themes, SLOW BURN

words: 7.5k

chapter 1 ► when i open my eyes to the future, i can hear you say my name

There was virtually not a single person left on the entire fourth floor of the company building, despite it being a Monday afternoon. Normally, two other managers worked in offices adjacent to yours, so the noise in the hallways never settled below a pleasant hum: producers, promoters, and publicists – the three cursed Ps – shuffled in and out, heels clicking urgently against the marble floor.

This funeral silence was unusual, but you knew it was only a calm before the storm.

Rated Riot were going on their first-ever European tour in two days to promote their sophomore album – named aptly, “ready, set, RIOT” – and today was the final day of meetings. Evidently, the executives at Jett Records assumed that the band deserved to have a whole floor to themselves, so everyone else got a half-day, leaving you and the Floor Administrator, Rue, all by yourselves until the band got here.

This unsettling silence was exactly why you heard them arrive as soon as the door of the building opened four floors below. Rated Riot lived up to their name by making themselves heard before they were seen.

As soon as the sharp ding! of the elevator reached you in your office—your door was always open on meeting days, because the four members of one of the most promising rock bands in the world at the moment lacked any sense of direction—you could immediately feel the atmosphere lighten, the previous silence long gone.

“Rue! The apple of my eye!” Hoseok, the drummer and the de facto mood setter of Rated Riot, exclaimed as you listened to the familiar sounds of the band as they exited the elevator and, based on the repeated clicking of shoes in the lobby, momentarily got disoriented.

“Always looking good, Rue!” Jungkook, the vocalist, as well as the new Golden Boy of Jett Records followed after.

“Good to see you again,” Taehyung, the always well-mannered bassist, said. Silence followed and you assumed he shook Rue’s hand.

“Hello,” Yoongi, who was, technically, the guitarist of the band, but, really, played any instrument he could get his hands on, was the last to speak. He’d always been very well-spoken in songwriting, but quieter and more careful in most everyday conversations.

“Welcome, guys,” Rue greeted them. You couldn’t see any of them from where your office was located, but you’ve been in a similar situation countless times before and you could imagine what was happening without needing to witness it first-hand.

Rue would stand up from her seat and point her right hand down the hallway, reminding them—yet again—that they needed to walk down the hall and take a right turn. The members of Rated Riot, in turn, would walk down the hall. At least one of the four of them would turn left instead, causing a pause as the group gathered back together, exchanging confused glances. Then, they would turn back to Rue—who would still be standing there, her right hand extended like a helpful Statue of Liberty. They’d laugh at themselves, nod at Rue, and take the correct turn.

If things were going well, they’d find your office on first try—they’d just need to find the open door and peer inside; your desk was right in front. More often than not, however, they stumbled around, knocking and chuckling to themselves as they continuously interrupted the offices of everyone else, but you.

They were special. Not just because they looked like loose ducklings, separated from the Mother Duck, whenever they entered the company building, but also because, in spite of their own lack of coordination, they still managed to get things done.

And they brightened the day of everyone they came across. Which was almost ironic—as you realised by watching the four of them enter your office—considering the effortless rockstar aura that surrounded them.

Jungkook walked in first. That was typical because he usually did: sometimes because he was the only one who remembered where your office was, but usually because the other members offered him as a sacrificial lamb when they went knocking around every office on the floor in search of yours.

He was dressed in all-black—always—adorned with silver chains and necklaces that often gave you a start when you looked up, because he had a very specific way of entering the room: he seemed to make sure to position himself in just a way that the light, coming in from the window behind you, always reflected off his jewellery and momentarily blinded you.

Sure enough, you blinked, cringing into yourself as the brightness hit your eyes, and when you opened them again, he was already grinning.

“Hi,” he said and the rest of the members followed in after him—a brighter palette of colours.

Even Yoongi, who was the only one who could have given Jungkook a run for his money if you had to count which one had more black items of clothing in their closet, was wearing a beige, loosely buttoned shirt.

Despite that, however, you could tell they were rock artists as soon as you looked at them—all tattoos, piercings, intense eye make-up behind sunglasses, and old band tees—and you stood up, excited to let them know that, finally, every last loose thread had been found and tightened. They’d get to introduce their artistry on a different continent, and you’d make sure it’d go smoothly.

“We’re leaving for Prague tomorrow morning,” you told them once the five of you settled down at the round table in the back of your office. “So, if you were planning a going away party, I strongly advise against it.”

“We weren’t,” Yoongi said, lifting his glass of lemon water—there was a jug on the table—and giving you a reassuring look. “This is the strongest drink I’m having tonight.”

“Thanks,” you said paradoxically enough, but being grateful when the members of the band you managed didn’t get drunk before an important day was part of the job. “I’d also appreciate it if—”

“Hold on a second, though,” Jungkook interrupted—you’d been anticipating it. “I’m going to a gig tonight, Reconnaissance are in town again. And there’s obviously an after-party—”

Despite Reconnaissance being, arguably, one of the most popular rock bands in the world right now, you were definite when you cut him off, “No.”

“—so, I—wait. No?” he paused. “I never miss their shows, you know that. And I don’t get drunk easily. You know that, too.”

“That’s why you drink so much,” you rebutted. The rest of the band members got their phones out, knowing well enough at this point that this would take a while. “And then I have to come get you out of trouble.”

“You absolutely do not have to do that,” Jungkook insisted. “We’ve been through this.”

“Have we?” you argued. “Because I keep telling you it’s my job to keep you from passing out in a dirty bar bathroom, but you don’t care enough to hear me.”

“Well, you’re not very convincing. What’s the worst that can happen? I’ll wake up again.”

You were used to having this conversation with him—you’ve argued about this way before he became a singer and you ended up as his manager. And yet, the lax way he said this made you clench your fists.

Despite being mostly introverted, Jungkook did enjoy getting drinks with friends: even if said friends enjoyed his celebrity status more than they enjoyed the drinks.

“And if you don’t?” you threatened. “Rated Riot’s vocalist gets his stomach pumped. A catchy headline.”

“Yeah, man,” Hoseok interjected, putting his phone screen down on the table and crossing his arms. “Doesn’t go well with the vibe we’re going for. Don’t get your stomach pumped.”

“Fine, I—”

“What he meant was, don’t drink so much that you’d need your stomach pumped,” you clarified because Jungkook moonlighted as a Loophole Finder.

“I never have!” he insisted. “Seriously, you treat me like I’m still nineteen. Have some faith.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the other members of the group look up from their phones. The band had only formed a few years ago, so you were the only person in this room who knew what Jungkook was like when he was nineteen. You never spoke about it – that was likely why everyone was so curious.

In any case, Jungkook was wrong. You did have faith—that’s why you spent so many of your off-duty nights driving down deserted streets to pick him up after his asshole friends convinced him it was a good idea to try the biker bar on the outskirts of town, and he’d gotten in an altercation with a burly redneck that was twice his size.

There was no time for that now, not when he was supposed to be on stage in Prague in three days.

“Well,” Taehyung spoke up. “I was thinking of going to the show as well. Not so much the after-party, I have better plans. But, uh, I could come, after all.”

You appreciated the offer, but you knew that these better plans involved him spending time with his girlfriend, Luna, who was going to join him for a few weeks of the European tour, but after that, the two of them were going to be apart for several months.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” you said, not trying very much to hide the hopeful undertones in your voice. Jungkook’s friends felt intimidated by all the members of Rated Riot; they’d be on their best behaviour if Taehyung was there.

“No, I think it might be fun,” Taehyung said. You exhaled quietly and he could sense your gratitude without words. He turned to his younger bandmate. “Should we go together?”

Jungkook groaned and mumbled under his breath, “not if I have to third-wheel again.”

“When have you ever third-wheeled anyone?” you asked rhetorically, but he was already opening his mouth to reply. Quickly, you added, “be careful, is what I’m saying, okay? I am complaining about having to pick you up from all kinds of holes, but if you need me to bring NDAs, I will bring them. So, ask.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, but chose to stay quiet. He knew better now – the one time he did not make anyone sign a non-disclosure agreement after an impromptu, drunken busking session in New York, pictures of him, half-dressed and giving a lap dance to a random, equally as drunk, groupie, were on every rock page on Instagram. Accompanied with detailed retellings of how it came to happen, of course; all of them more ridiculous than the next. Your personal favourite story was that he was recruiting members for a sex cult.

“We’ll call you,” Taehyung gave you a nod, “if we have to.”

“Perfect,” you said, glancing at Jungkook again, even though expecting him to confirm that he, too, would call you if he had to, was wishful thinking.

Every time you reminded him how he needed to start going out with a less destructive crowd, he’d treat his phone like a poisonous snake – and he’d been doing that even before you became his manager. His friends seemed to get their pleasure fix from watching you arrive and rip him a new one, so they were the ones who called you most of the time, always laughing into their phones like true accomplices.

It was funny how Jungkook was the only one who passed out or got so wasted, he ended up on a ferry to Martha’s Vineyard. His friends always walked away unscathed and, usually, only called you by the time they were back in their bedrooms – “when we left, he was ordering mint and honey daiquiris, you should probably go over there and check up on him.”

It was like they loved pushing him into danger and purposefully bringing the two of you together again, and Jungkook either didn’t realise or didn’t care anymore. It’s been a while, after all.

You and Jungkook had been broken up for almost two years when you got the unbelievable offer to manage an up-and-coming rock band. This was over two years ago now and you were only twenty-four back then. Up until that point, you had worked as an assistant manager for various indie artists, so that offer was massive.

You figured the downside that your ex-boyfriend happened to be in this particular band was worth it, considering the huge leap in your career you’d make by accepting this job.

And, for the most part (excluding the first two months that were pure chaos of repressed feelings), you and Jungkook both made this work, drawing a strict line between your relationship before Rated Riot (back when he still had your phone number saved as “❌”) and after he met you again as Rated Riot’s new manager (ironically, now your name on his phone was “❌❌❌”).

You’ve managed Rated Riot for almost exactly two years now, and if you’d asked the band – which you wouldn’t, partially out of humbleness, but also because you were scared – you’d know that they loved working with you as much as you loved working with them. So, in the end, it all really had been worth it.

“Check your emails for the descriptive itineraries,” you continued smoothly enough. The guys at the table put their phones down and returned their attention to you. “Now, who else is coming with us?”

Technically, the band wasn’t supposed to bring anyone – the label was explicitly clear about that. They wanted the first European tour to go “without a hitch” (meaning, without distractions), but you held a more liberal view here.

You didn’t think loved ones coming on the road were a distraction; if anything, they were a firm support mechanism that made touring easier for the artists.

“I know Luna’s staying until the Barcelona show, yeah?” you asked, double-checking the notes on your laptop.

Taehyung nodded, a small smile on his lips at the mention of the girl. “She flies out the next day, yeah.”

“Okay. Who else?”

“Well, Sid and Jude are coming,” Jungkook spoke up and, after seeing your eyes roll back, added, quieter, “and Minjun isn’t sure.”

The three musketeer-wannabes – Sid, Jude, and Minjun – were on speed dial on your work and personal phones, because if Rated Riot had a performance and the vocalist wasn’t there, it was likely those three who were to blame. They were the only ones who knew Jungkook longer than you did, and they seemed to take pride in the fact that they had successfully been causing you headaches for seven years now.

“Sid and Jude,” you repeated, “aren’t worried they’ll lose their jobs if they travel to Europe abruptly?”

“No, they’re cool,” Jungkook shrugged, not catching the mockery in your voice. “I’ll text Minjun right now. Maybe he’ll come when we’re in Poland…”

“I needed confirmation by last week,” you reminded him. “At the latest.”

He glanced at you from his phone and then went back to texting. “So, why’d you ask now?”

“To double-check,” you said. “They’re going to have to book the hotels themselves. Or sleep on the street. Honestly, I don’t really—”

“So, uh,” Yoongi interrupted before another argument could begin, “how many hotels this time?”

“Prague, Amsterdam, and Paris. And, depending on flight time, maybe two nights in London,” you said with an apologetic smile. “Bring your favourite blankets. We’re living on buses for the next three months.”

None of them minded – if anything, you could see a little glitter in their eyes as they listened to you. Being on the road and having to sleep on the tour bus every night was an experience they’d missed. They hadn’t gone on an actual tour in almost a year – as someone who thrived on live performances, they had obviously missed this.

Really, you’ve missed it, too. Rated Riot may have been a riot to look after as their manager – pun fully intended – especially on tour, but they were your riot to deal with.

You liked your job and the challenges that came with it, because, in the end, you overcame most of them: starting with your previous relationship with Jungkook (no one in the band had a problem with it, and the label miraculously seemed not to know about it) and ending with your relatively young age (Jungkook was the only one who had a problem with you being his age, but he had a problem with almost everything).

Hopefully, one day you’d manage to overcome the challenge that was getting Jungkook to open his eyes and realise that the people he surrounded himself with were more groupies than his friends. But all in due time.

“If you have questions,” you said as the meeting approached its’ conclusion, “go right ahead.”

“Wake-up calls,” Yoongi said. “Any possibility of arranging those?”

You smiled – this had been traditional practice ever since you started to work with them.

“I’ll call,” you said and then remembered a particularly frustrating way in which this had backfired. You added, “and keep you on the phone until you’re out of bed.”

Back when you were an assistant manager to a different band, this had been your main task. And, you supposed, if Rated Riot had assistant managers, they’d be the ones making wake-up calls, too – however, the band had only started to live up to their potential now. Before you booked the European tour for them, Jett Records thought they barely needed one manager to begin with.

You’ve made it this far. If the tour went well, maybe you’d get to expand your team as the band gained popularity.

Jungkook felt giddy the whole night. The Reconnaissance show with Taehyung and Luna was a lot of fun, as expected—he’d seen the band five times before tonight, and they never failed to let him down.

When he arrived at the after-party, he was nearly vibrating with excitement—on top of everything, he was going on tour tomorrow and he knew he might lose his mind over it—and this was usually the time when he tended to get reckless.

He did drink a little too much to retain a completely sober mind, but he stayed true to his word and did not wander anywhere or caused any—serious—trouble. You would have said that’s because Sid and Jude weren’t with him, but Jungkook was convinced it was because he simply had great self-control when he put his mind to it.

The only place he went to after the party was his family’s house, so he could say goodbye to his grandma. She probably wouldn’t even hear him—and if she would, then she probably wouldn’t recognise him—but he couldn’t leave to Europe without saying goodbye to her.

He thought he’d take his Katana to the house, but then remembered immediately the last time he got on his motorcycle drunk – his grandma had, literally, smacked him on the back with a rolling pin, yelling about how careless he was. She didn’t say that she hit him out of concern for his safety—that was obvious—and, instead, she focused on how hard he’d worked on restoring the bike after he’d bought it; his first purchase with the money that he made off Rated Riot’s music.

“Don’t you want it to last?” she had said then. She’d been the only person who believed he could bring the bike to life, despite it not having a single properly functioning part, least of all the engine. “You worked so hard on it. Do you want to wreck it in one night?”

Tonight, however, everyone in the house was asleep when he arrived. It was quiet, so he tried to be silent as he went up the stairs to her room—and then knocked over a picture frame after his feet fumbled on the carpet in the hallway. But no one went out to check who was making the noise—which was dangerous, he realised for a brief, semi-sober second; but the house had security, so he figured they were safe from outsiders—and he gently lowered the handle on his grandma’s door, peering inside.

The room was painted in blue hues from the night light next to the bed where his grandma was sleeping. He approached—really trying to be quiet this time—and carefully pulled her comforter up, so she wouldn’t get cold, even though the room felt warm.

It was always warm here and Jungkook had to bite his lip when he realised how much he missed sitting here as a child while dozens of his cousins ran around the house and wreaked loud, childish havoc. How much he missed his grandma reading him books—never children’s stories, he always insisted she read him the thickest, most boring books he could find on her shelves, just so he could stay in her room longer, listening to her soothing voice and feeling her comforting warmth.

Sniffling quietly, he leaned closer to her and brushed a strand of white hair from her face, listening to her soft breathing as she slept, unaware of his presence.

“I’ll be back soon,” he promised in a whisper as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. She didn’t wake. “We will talk again then.”

He knew he’d keep this promise even if she didn’t hear it, even if she didn’t remember. But leaving her room felt painful and he was far less excited now. The alcohol had begun to wear off and heaviness settled in his chest instead. This happened sometimes when he was left alone with his thoughts, especially after he visited his grandma.

He'd come back, he knew he would. But as he glanced at his grandma’s sleeping frame one more time—remembering how she hadn’t called him by his name in months; not one glint of recognition in her eyes when she’d see him—he wondered if he’d have anyone to come back to.

Surprising exactly no one, Jungkook was the only one who did not answer your wake-up call the next morning. Having foreseen this, you’d already called Hoseok, Yoongi and Taehyung – in that order, because the first two took the longest to wake up, and by that time, Taehyung was already awake on his own – and only then attempted to reach the one remaining member.

Fifteen minutes later, you were already dressed and ready to drive over to his house and personally wake him up with an icy bath in bed. And just then, your phone rang – his name as the caller’s ID.

“Look who—”

“Okay, okay,” Jungkook’s groggy voice cut you off before you could greet him with the appropriate sarcastic remark. “I’m awake. Halfway in the shower.”

“I don’t hear running water.”

He responded with a groan first, then shuffling. You waited patiently, balancing the phone on your shoulder as you unlocked the door of your apartment. Finally, you could hear the water start running on the other end of the call.

“Happy?” Jungkook asked, always the brightest of all rays of sunshine in the morning.

“Ecstatic,” you replied, equally as enthusiastically. “Sending a car to pick you up in half an hour. Don’t be late.”

“I can drive myself—”

“No driving when you’re hungover,” you said, not for the first time. “In fact, don’t even go near your Katana.”

He considered several ways to respond to you; first and foremost, defending his beloved, navy-coloured Suzuki Katana with a matte coating, custom-made leather seat covers, golden rims, purring engine, and—anyway. He ended up choosing to respond with a question, “how do you know I’m hungover?”

“I’ve known you for almost ten years,” you replied. “If you go out drinking the night before, you’ll wake up hungover.”

“Well, how do you know I drank that much last ni—?”

“Listen,” you cut him off, hoisting your suitcases over the threshold of your front door. You fixed your phone against your cheek and continued, “how about you take that shower, and we’ll resume this nice little Q&A at the airport?”

“No,” he replied and, in a purposefully exaggerated breathy voice said, “I simply can’t stop talking to you.”

“Hanging up now.”

Jungkook laughed as he listened to the beep, indicating the end of the call. Putting his phone on the side of the sink, he took his shirt off and was about to continue undressing when his phone vibrated and nearly fell off the sink.

Scrambling to catch it, he smacked it against the cupboard and exhaled in relief when he saw that the screen hadn’t cracked. He was expecting a text from you – a threat, in case he’d go back to bed – but it was actually Sid, asking for the time of his flight.

His friends were taking a separate flight out to Prague – they weren’t happy about it and neither was he, but at least they’d get to hang out in Europe eventually – and, obviously, they wanted to know what time they’d meet up and where.

He double-checked the itinerary you’d emailed him, got confused about the time zone difference and texted Sid back.

“Gonna be there the day before the show,” his text said, “jetlag. Sleep. Maybe beer? Catch u there.”

Sid was, of course, delighted to hear the mention of beer and Jungkook snickered to himself before he resumed undressing for his shower—knowing from experience that you wouldn’t be above shipping him to Prague in the cargo section on the plane if he was late to the airport.

As it turned out, for the first time in his life, Jungkook was so terribly jet-lagged, that he did not feel like doing anything – not even drinking with friends – but sleeping.

He slept through the whole layover in Paris – and, consequently, through Taehyung and Luna’s stories about the 5 minutes they got to spend in front of the Eiffel Tower before rushing back to the airport (never mind that it was about 2 AM) – as well as the flight to Prague.

He only woke up on the bus ride to the hotel when he felt something nudging his lips and opened his eyes to find an open bottle of Coca-Cola in your hands as you held it by his face.

“Did you just—” he started to say, but his voice sounded brittle, more a croak than a voice, really. He cleared his throat and tried again, “did you just wake me up by making me sniff soda?”

“It worked,” you replied, nudging the bottle at him again. “Drink. You need sugar. You didn’t eat anything on the plane here.”

“I had that bagel on the flight to Paris,” he mumbled, but sat up properly and took the bottle from you.

“That was a croissant,” you clarified. It was almost cute to see him barely awake. “And I warned you about flying with a hangover. You did this to yourself.”

“I’m fine,” he replied after taking a big gulp of coke. “Not sure which day it is, but other than that, I’m perfect. Do you have anything for headaches?”

Snickering, you nodded. “Yeah, give me a second.”

You went to fetch your carry-on bag and returned with ibuprofen, which allowed him to go back to sleep until you arrived at the hotel. The other members were also in and out of slumber, but that was their own fault. You and the other girls on this tour, which, really, only meant Luna— Taehyung’s girlfriend—and Maggie—the tour photographer—had planned ahead and taken sleeping pills as soon as the plane took off. Meanwhile, every man on this trip thought too much of himself.

By the time you arrived to the hotel and checked in, it was already lunchtime. If this had been your first time travelling with Rated Riot, you would have been beyond surprised to see what effect food had on them: they looked like they'd just returned from the most refreshing vacation in the Caribbean. Lively conversation and cheerful laughter echoed around the table – no one would have guessed that they’d just spent over 13 hours on airplanes. Their recovery was nearly always miraculous.

And, naturally, since they were feeling better, they wanted to do something as soon as the first rehearsal was over. You had far too many things to do before the show tomorrow, so you couldn’t babysit them – again, an assistant manager would have been life-saving – but you knew you’d still have to keep an eye on them.

Taehyung and Luna went sightseeing, but they were the sort who kept you updated on their adventures through pictures, which you were endlessly grateful for. There was never a reason to worry here; if you were a teacher who had to pretend not to have a favourite student, Taehyung would be the student you were pretending about.

Yoongi and Hoseok, initially, went to a record store together, but then split up – one of them returned to the hotel for a nap, and the other one went café-hopping. Those two were also fine – they usually took some members of the crew with them anyway, so you knew that in the worst-case scenario, you’d still have several people you could call to reach them.

Now Jungkook was going to meet up with Sid and Jude, both of whom had, most unfortunately, successfully landed in Prague. The Diabolical Duo would take him out drinking, you had no doubt about it – and this was where you’d have to step in with another warning. You weren’t the angry mother, dragging her children by their ears, but you felt it necessary to remind Jungkook of what was at stake if he allowed his friends to be their usual, obnoxious selves tonight.

However, you didn’t want to ask, so you had to figure out where to find them yourself. You didn’t even have to use the seven years that you’ve known them to deduce two logical, universal-for-all-assholes things: one, Jungkook’s friends wouldn’t be nearly tired enough not to want to drink. Two, they’d be too jet-lagged to look for their usual hole-in-the-wall spot that sold drinks. Therefore, they’d have to settle for the bar of the hotel.

And when you exited the elevator on the ground floor later that night, your assumption was confirmed – you could hear their laughter from where you were standing in the lobby.

You’d texted Jungkook as you arrived, hoping he’d leave his friends and come see you at the back of the bar for a minute, but unfortunately, Sid and Jude noticed you and waved you over with loud cheers.

Embarrassed as the people in booths around you began to turn to look, you swallowed and walked towards the front where Jungkook and his friends were sitting by the bar.

“Wow, it’s been so long!” Jude exclaimed as you approached. In your opinion, it wasn’t nearly long enough, but you only lifted the corners of your lips and did not comment.

“Jungkook, a moment?” you said instead.

“Let’s get you a drink!” Sid suggested as though you hadn’t spoken and extended a hand, clicking his fingers to get the bartender’s attention. “Hey! Can we get some Margaritas here?”

You cringed watching this, but, again, restrained yourself. They could behave like pricks all they wanted; it wasn’t their reputation that you had to protect. Someone else would, hopefully, teach them a lesson.

“Sure,” Jungkook said to you, sliding off the stool. He seemed sober enough to walk without any sort of waddling or stand without swaying, but you could tell by the relaxation behind his eyes, that he was already tipsy.

His friends patted him on the back and whistled as he followed you to a quieter spot in the back of the bar. He shook his head at them—but had a grin on his face, and for that alone you wanted to punch him.

“Can I count on you to take it easy?” you asked, once the two of you were out of earshot. “Not because you’ll make my job much harder if you don’t, but because you have a rehearsal tomorrow at eight, and that’s hard with the jet lag alone, but add a hangover into the mix, and—”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, but you’ve heard this song many times before. It was one of his top hits. “I’m actually tired, so I might have a few and then go straight to bed.”

“Okay,” you said, choosing to believe him, because that was easier than making him sign a contract, swearing not to wake up in a dumpster. “Can you text me when you’re back in your room? So I know you’re not lost somewhere in Prague with Dumb and Dumber.”

His lip twitched in an almost-smile at the nickname, but he resisted – a loyal friend, even if they didn’t deserve it – and gave you a nod.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll text you. And I won’t get lost.”

“Okay—” you started to say and then squinted your eyes at him, realizing. “I meant don’t go wandering the city streets while drunk.”

He snorted and placed a hand on your left shoulder. Gazing into your eyes, he enunciated very dramatically, “I will not get into trouble. Promise.”

You pursed your lips. “You’d better not.”

“I realise what that would mean, believe it or not,” he said, straightening. “Tomorrow is an important day. I’d never do anything to ruin it.”

“I know,” you said. “I trust you to make smart choices. I don’t trust them.”

You pointed at the twosome by the bar – both of them watching you like you were the entertainment of the night – and Jungkook turned to look. Sid and Jude both immediately waved at him. Jungkook waved back and, when he looked at you again, he was smiling softly.

Clearly, he genuinely enjoyed hanging out with those two. You’d never believe that there was anything about them that was bearable—let alone enjoyable—so Jungkook’s weird attachment to them had to come from some sort of weird destructive force inside of him.

“I’ll keep them in check,” he said and then, possibly prompted by the skeptical frown on your face, he felt the need to explain, “they help me relax. If it weren’t for them, I’d probably be shaking from anxiety all the time. Kind of like you are.”

He winked as he said that last part, grinning at his own wit, but you rolled your eyes in response.

“Goodnight,” you said then. “Don’t forget to text me.”

“Are you going to stay up late waiting for my text?” his tone was humorous and it stopped you from leaving.

“Hopefully not,” you said, ignoring the flirty comment that was obviously meant to rattle your composure. “But it’d do you well to remember that I can make life very difficult for you if you disobey me.”

He lifted his eyebrows at this, but did not lose the grin. “Oh? Will I get punished if I—”

“Goodnight, Jungkook,” you said again—louder—and turned away.

You glanced over your shoulder when you reached the archway leading to the lobby and caught him watching you leave—he was still beaming, but he composed himself and nodded when he caught your eye. You nodded back.

Maybe he really would be fine tonight.

And, truly, Jungkook had meant what he’d said – he couldn’t wait for tomorrow and there was nothing he’d do to ruin that. Not even if the smirking faces of his friends prompted him to laugh as soon as he returned to his seat by the bar.

“What do you want, assholes?” he asked, punching Jude on the shoulder as he walked past his friends. As soon as he sat down, leaving Sid in the middle, he took a big gulp of the beer he’d left waiting; only his third one tonight.

“We don’t want anything,” Jude said, still smirking. “What did she want? Another moral how you’re not being a good boy?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “No—”

“I was always curious,” Sid interrupted. “Was she like that when you dated, too? You know, always in charge?”

Even before you and Jungkook had settled into a steady enough rhythm of working with each other, neither of you spoke to others about your relationship. Not while you were dating, and not after you broke up. So, all your friends—real friends and whoever the hell Sid and Jude were—essentially knew nothing of your relationship.

And there was nothing he’d tell them now.

It’s been four years since you broke up—plenty of time to move on. Not to mention, you were both (trying to be) professionals. There was no point to bring back the past; there never had been.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Jungkook teased, managing to keep the banter going without revealing how the question irked something inside him.

“I would. That’s why I asked,” Sid replied, laughing haughtily. A few heads turned his way. Sid sounded very much like an entitled heir—or an elephant high on helium—when he laughed, especially when there was nothing funny going on. “I mean, you never talked about her to us. Was it getting rid of her that made you who you are today?”

Jude snorted, slapping Sid on the back in a half-supportive, half-warning manner. Jungkook knew that the level of your patience for his friends ranged from Sid (no patience) to Jude (case-by-case), to Minjun (bearable)—and he could see why.

“I didn’t get rid of her,” he said, an edge to his voice. “We broke up and moved on. Did you hear from Minjun?”

Sid laughed again—even louder than before; the glasses behind the bar seemed to clatter.

“Look at him, trying to change the topic!” he wheezed, looking at Jude over his shoulder.

“Leave him be, man,” Jude said and nodded at Jungkook. “So many girls around us and this dumbass is still hung up on your ex, huh?”

Jungkook finished his beer and held the liquid behind his cheeks for a second before swallowing. He caught the bartender’s eye and lifted his empty glass, indicating a refill.

“I don’t think I’m the one who’s hung up,” Sid said with a very knowing look in his eye.

Jungkook looked at him and raised his eyebrows—surprised and momentarily distracted from his drink. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you come to her as soon as she calls, like a puppy,” Sid replied. “So, you tell me.”

“I have to come when she calls,” Jungkook defended. “She’s my manager.”

“Yeah, dumbass,” Jude said, slapping Sid on the back of the head this time. “She’s his manager.”

Jungkook suddenly found himself smiling when he realised that you’d probably consider this the reason why Sid acted the way he did sometimes – permanent brain damage from Jude’s incessant slaps.

“Well, then someone,” Sid said, angrily accentuating the word—the anger was clearly directed at Jude, but the pronoun at Jungkook, “has a fucking crush on their manager.”

“I don’t have a crush—”

Sid spoke over him, “I bet you could never get her to go out with you again.”

Jungkook saw the bartender approach to pour him a drink and he heard Jude scoffing, but he could only blink, taken aback by what sounded like an accusation. “Why—why would I even—why—”

“Oh, see, see?!” Sid screeched, turning to Jude with a triumphant expression. Jude gave him a pitiful look—and looked about ready to give him a black eye, too. “He knows I’m right, it’s why he’s stuttering!”

“Dude,” Jude said slowly. “You are yelling.”

Jungkook cleared his throat, nodding at the bartender as a thank-you and then bringing his refilled glass to his lips. “And I’m not stuttering.”

“You so are, my man,” Sid taunted, patting Jungkook on the shoulder with so much force, the beer nearly spilled from the glass and from his mouth. “Your ass is so whipped, you’re going to be singing at her wedding to some random producer.”

Suddenly hyper-aware that there were several producers on tour with them right now, Jungkook put his drink down and straightened in his seat.

“I’m not fucking singing at weddings,” he said.

“Not yet,” Sid pointed out, grinning. He knew he'd gotten under his skin.

“Okay, come on now,” Jude interjected, leaning back in his seat to be able to see Jungkook. “You promised you’d sing at my wedding.”

“As if anyone would ever marry you,” came Sid’s snide.

“You shut the fuck up,” Jude snarled, but there was no malice behind his bark. “I have more chances of marrying someone than he has of marrying his manager.”

“He—oh, fuck!” Sid was about to argue, but then burst into laughter—so loud and thunderous again, that the bartender was forced to glance over at the security guards by the entrance to the bar. “That’s good! You’re so right!”

“Both of you are fucking idiots,” Jungkook spoke. The edges of his vision were red. “I could get her to go out with me again if I wanted to.”

“Oh, sure, sure,” Sid nodded, wiping invisible tears from his eyes. “Big talk.”

“Jungkook, no offense, my dude,” Jude said, leaning forwards this time. “Let him have this one. Sid may be dumber than box of rocks, but he’s got a point here. Forget about her.”

Another insinuation that had Jungkook throwing his head back in frustration.

“There’s nothing to forget!” he groaned. “What the fuck are you even talking about? I just fucking told you I moved on.”

“So why are you getting all riled up, then?” Sid smirked, more and more satisfied with each curse that he provoked out of him.

Jungkook felt even angrier, because he was getting riled up, but he had a good reason for it. He enjoyed banter as much as the next person, but he did not enjoy mockery at his own expense—especially not the kind that involved you.

He snapped back, “because you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

His friends snickered at this – convinced that his irritation only proved the point they were both making – and Jungkook clenched his jaw, annoyed.

“If anything,” he added sharply as he picked his beer up—as if that could somehow distance him from this conversation, “it’s her who’s still hung up on me.”

That was a cheap, childish defence, and everyone by the bar knew it.

“Yeah, right!” Sid cried out, but resisted from laughing again. “We’ve heard her yell at you more times than we can count. You fucking wish she was still hung up on you.”

“Okay, to be fair, Sid can probably only count to five,” Jude added—Sid finally punched him on the shoulder—as he toyed with the paper umbrella on his fourth cocktail; the Margaritas they’d ordered were long gone. “But he’s right, you know? You’d never get her to go out with you again.”

There was pity in Jude’s voice—as if he felt sorry that Jungkook lived in denial, chasing after you and convincing himself that it was only a matter of time before you’d come back to him.

This made Jungkook’s temper vile, his face red, hot, and angry. He slammed his beer back on the table, forcing some of it to spill. “Yes, I fucking would!”

Sid was hiccupping as he laughed.

“Okay, okay, listen—let’s make a proper bet,” he managed. He picked up a napkin from the bar top, then looked around for something to write on it with—not finding anything, he stood up from his seat and leaned over the bar, grabbing a pen before the bartender could notice. “$1000 says you can’t get her to go on a date with you again.”

He glanced at Jude for approval—Jude shrugged.

“I’d suggest $500,” he said. “We don’t want to rob him blind.”

Jungkook’s face remained stoic, prideful.

“Fine with me. But you have no idea what you’re getting yourselves into,” he bit.

“Oh, that’s right, he’s been awfully cocky about the whole thing, hasn’t he?” Sid spoke, addressing his rhetorical question at the bar. He wrote something on the napkin and then lifted it to show the number “4000” to Jungkook. “How about this: Jude and I each pay you $2000 if you win. But if you lose, you give us your Katana.”

Jungkook lifted his eyebrows, the sudden mention of his bike catching him off-guard. Sid came from old money, he could afford fifteen brand-new motorcycles with the change he found in his suitcase, probably.

“How is that fair?” he asked. “Do you even know how much a Suzuki costs these days? It’s not $4000, I can tell you that much.”

“Why should you care?” Sid asked, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You were so confident about winning the bet just a second ago. Scared you’ll lose after all?”

In his defence, Jungkook did hesitate for half a moment. But there was a shit-eating grin on Sid’s mouth that he wanted to wipe off more than anything else, and he downed the rest of his beer in one big gulp—a showcase of his determination.

“Not at all,” he said then. He wasn’t sure if he was lying as he said this, but he had no time to figure that out. He extended his hand at Sid. “Get your money ready.”

Here, he was putting up a front – this wasn’t about the money at all. It was more a thing of pride; they were teasing him, purposefully making fun of him—and he wanted to prove them wrong, regardless if they were actually wrong.

Smirking, Sid shook his hand—cementing the bet between all three of them, as Jude was busy finishing off his cocktail—and was about to say something when Jungkook jumped off his stool.

“Have to go now,” he said, always a show-off with his overly creative comebacks when he was tipsy. “My horoscope predicts a date and a big fortune in my near future. Got to prepare.”

chapter title credits: sleep token, “rain”

special shout-out & thank you to @eleni-cherie who delivered the much-appreciated kicks in the ass, so that i would keep writing. the odds were really against me, so if it weren't for you & our in-depth fanfic discussions, i definitely wouldn't even be writing this note right now, let alone finally starting this story 💜

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#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bts reactions #bts x reader #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts rockstar au #bts scenarios #jungkook rockstar au #jungkook reaction #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic

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qvrcll · 4 months

Text

nsfw, fem reader + borderline phone sex

teasing coriolanus snow through a line whilst he’s out parading himself as a peacekeeper with new responsibilities and goals? absolutely.

the ordeal is messy at first. you’re not sure if this is a good idea in the first place (considering the whole good man act he’s piecing together to get back to the capitol, so fragile already) but what is there to lose? you miss him terribly and on the off-chance, you get to catch him off guard, much to his dismay.

so, it starts.

“snow, there’s a caller out for you,” a stone faced peacekeeper yells, voice like gravel. really, not a mouth for conversation, so snow goes as much as to nod before reaching the relevant station. his hands are clammy, oddly, and he wishes the call were from back home. tigris, grand’maam… you.

you, who has kept his faith in this place with just images in his mind. memories.

but to hope is to lose and to lose is beneath him - so, snow keeps his wits about him. he finds a seat and sticks to it like glue, spreading his back and finding space for his feet as the machine ahead whirrs gently. there’s no one here at this point of time - calls are short and rare, which reminds him to not bide his time too much, to not panic and, admittedly, he’s never felt his heart in his throat until now.

“hello?” his voice is crisp, weak in its echo.

there’s cracking on the other end, before a face blends within the static, a smile already tinged in the viewer’s feedback. teeth he recognises by sight alone, smile he recognises by warmth alone.

it’s you.

“coryo? god, is this thing working?” you gasp, and he would laugh if the urge to have you wasn’t overwhelming his senses. his nose was already twitching, reddening with an onslaught of emotions as he could hear your words transmitting clearly over the machine’s whirr, “oh my god! coryo!”

the two of you break into smiles and he can sense you on the cusp of tears - not that strange, knowing he’s been away from you for far longer than he ever has. the remedy is always sweet: he coos at you, reassures you.

“have you been crying? what, you missed me?” he asks, clutching the receiver tighter and then loosening his grip a little. there’s a smile in his voice, but you can already see it.

you shift, curling the telephone cord around your finger and nodding, “of course i’ve missed you, coryo. have been missing you so much,” your voice is dripping with the spell of his absence, to which snow sadly smiles at. of course you’d been missing him.

but then, something slips up. time, his breath or the strap of the slip you’re wearing - pretty pink, a rememberable flush of salmon that hugs your body firmly, from what he can see. he almost misses it, almost chooses to focus on the wall nearby instead, out of courtesy. because it was surely a mistake, a little slip up (ironically). but when you fail to pull it up, instead staring at him like he was the loon here, he clears his throat.

“w… well, how have you been?”

“good.” (did you just scoot closer or did he imagine that?)

“how’d tigris… (cough) been?”

“she’s great.” (okay, your thigh definitely hitched up on purpose.)

two questions and he’s already losing his mind. he knows there are no others in the room, but he feels wholly lost, a string of yarn being pushed against nimble fingers - and when he finally looks at you, a warning painted in those azure eyes, he can finally see what you’re getting at. your face is prettily composed, like he remembers, but there’s heat in your shoulders. an ache that he wants to get beneath, curl against his fingers.

he steels himself, gripping the receiver harder and feeling his jaw tighten under the effort of staying calm, “what are you doing?”

you act dumb, of course. there’s that smile - same as before. sickly sweet and barely squashed off of your face as you stare at him, “doing what, coryo?”

“you don’t think i’m dumb, do you? i can see what you’re trying and it’s-“ he casts a wary look behind his shoulder, and spots no one, not a soul, “it’s unfair.”

“unfair?”

“precisely.”

“is this unfair too?”

before he can even squint at that, ask you what exactly you mean, you do your worst: drop the slip and reveal what’s beneath. the skin of your chest is as he remembers, your fingers skirting against your nipples. it all makes his leg jump, his heart clinch uncomfortably under all those bones and all that blood. he’s already hissing, moving closer.

“what the hell are you doing?” he asks, though there’s no malice in his voice. no reprimand. just a small fear and a large amount of desire that spills into a small whimper when you lean back and have the decency to lower your fingers past your belly and beneath.

“i missed you coryo,” you practically eat the words, moaning softly into the receiver as you work yourself open until it’s quite enough. but it never is - you know this and so does snow. one of his many faults, his dexterity that is - pretty, nimble fingers that reach parts of you that need teasing, pushing. fingers that go farther and don’t come back until you’ve had your fill. but you’re making do with what you have and that’s partly why he grits his teeth.

he knows he can do it better.

“talk to me,” he licks a stripe against his lips, eyes zoning in on you. he can’t see below for certain, but with the soft sounds that leave you, he’s plenty satisfied. besides, the thought of those stone faced peace-keepers stepping in and taking an eyeful of you gets him angrier than he would like to be, “how does it feel? good? better than mine?”

“no, no, never-“ you gasp, craning your head backwards and angling your body so you’re resting your weight on your free elbow, “never, coryo - ah - you’re better. need your fingers.”

he feels a strain in his pants. a pain is forming in his dick and the blood is rushing soon down, and he knows this is unruly. unadjustable. he could lose his position. but maybe that’s the thrill in it, isn’t it? closing an eye to his duties is rather easy, and as he palms his dick through the svelte material, the groan that leaves him is inarticulate and roughly pushed out of his throat.

“poor thing needs me all the time, don’t you?” he gasps, palm catching on that sensitive area down below, “have you been doing this - fuck - since i’ve been away?”

he spreads his legs, palming harder and somehow, messier. though the static betrays him, the feedback in the device in front of him does him wonders: your face, contorted just the way he loves it, your fingers inventing some thick, loud sound the more you work your way into your cunt, the weight of your release hung above the two of you like a threat.

“just my fingers - ah - been using ‘em” you cry out, voice high suddenly, “miss you so much. i can’t do this. i need you here - ngh - coryo!”

the noise that leaves you is heavy and it hits him so hard his dick throbs in his pants, so he presses harder onto the muscle and moans painfully slow.

“shit - miss you so much, sweetheart,” he picks up his ordinary pace, “when i’m back home, i’ll give it to you good.”

“promise?”

“fuck - i promise.”

the seconds of orgasm are embarrassing. he clutches the screen and stares open-mouthed at you. wishes he could kiss every bend and curve, every dot and line, but as soon as he feels himself about to spill into his pants, the line cuts. there’s a darkness washing over the screen and he can no longer hear your voice through the wasted receiver.

it clicks - those stupid call times. he’d probably used all his minutes.

he clenches his fist and loosens it up, tossing the receiver back into its apt position. and as much as he is exasperated as he is disconcerted, he composes himself.

several minutes later, a peace-keeper enters. stone faced and dull, just as he remembers them.

“time’s up, snow. get back to your room.”

snow nods, pinching one look at the dark screen of the feed before walking out. as he steers clear of the room, a thought occurs: he better get back home quick so he can fill you up the way you both like best.

(requests for snow / tbosas are open!)

#coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #tbosas x reader

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redr0sewrites · 2 months

Note

Could u do a Alastor x gn s/o where reader is Lucifer's eldest Child. Like luci knew his kid was seeing someone but he didn't know it was Alastor?

How would Alastor react to finding out his s/os dad is actually luci and luci finding out al is seeing his eldest child??

yesss ofc! this is such a silly req hehe

🥀Cw: fluff, demi alastor, silly antics, lucifer and alastor bickering as per usual

when you told your father you had a new boyfriend, Lucifer was insanely excited

he immediately wanted to meet him and learn everything about him, not in an overprotective way, but moreso in an excited, sweet way

im imagining this all is happening after lucifer and alastor had their silly little custody battle over charlie, which you witnessed ofc

so you are obviously a little bit awkward about formerly introducing them

Lucifer obviously doesn't know ALASTOR is the person you're dating, but i think alastor would figure out lucifer is your father pretty quickly after luci arrived at the hotel for the first time

i mean, he tackled both you and charlie in a hug, and alastor knew that you and charlie were siblings, so it didn't take long to connect the dots

alastor probably asked you about it, which led to a slightly awkward yet civil conversation

i think alastor would be a little less petty with lucifer afterwards for your sake, even though lucifer doesn't know that the both of you are dating yet

when it comes to the actual introduction, you're probably pretty nervous

alastor makes sure to reassure you that he (probably) won't make a scene

and you make your father promise the same thing (much to his confusion)

the meeting itself is probably hella awkward, but lucifer and alastor will keep it as civil as possible for your sake

they both love you, and they both want you to be happy

alastor knows how important your father is to you, and knows how much you want him to approve of the both of you

lucifer knows how responsible you are, and trusts you to choose someone that will make you happy, and he just wants to be involved in your life and make sure you're safe and happy too

overall, their individual love for you overcomes their rivalry and they might even end up bonding over how much they care about you

"alright dad, i'm gonna need you to promise that you won't be.... crazy, okay?" you sigh, standing in front of the doorway to the room where alastor was waiting. "of course not! sure, most sinners are like, the worst, but heeyyyyyy who am i to judge? if he makes you happy than im happy!" lucifer nudges you, a wide smile on his face. "if you say so.." you take a deep breath, slowly opening the door. the door swings open, revealing alastor standing in the center of the room. immediately, lucifer bursts out laughing. "ha! great joke sweetie, that's hilarious!" he throws his head back in laughter, and alastor's eye visibly twitches. a few seconds pass of lucifers laughter until suddenly he pauses, looking at your strained expression. "wait. you aren't kidding." with a sigh, you motion for alastor to come closer and you step away from your father to link arms with alastor, whos grin widened ever so slightly.

"dad, i'd like to introduce you to my boyfriend, alastor. alastor, this is, uh, my dad. you two, uh, y'know, might know eachother..." an awkward beat of silence passes as the two men glare at eachother. finally, alastor breaks the silence. "well, this is certainly a surprise, isn't it?" static buzzed at the edges of his voice, and you squeezed his arm in a mix of appreciation and reassurance. "well, i'll say! i hope for your sake that you're treating my precious child well!" lucifer replies curtly, sticking out his hand for alastor to shake. you can sense alastors apprehension, but you're pleasantly surprised when he shakes your father's hand anyway. "i can assure you, they are in the best of care," alastor sneered, pulling his hand away and wiping it on his jacket. lucifer huffed, but remained calm. you got the feeling that it would remain like this for a while.

after the meeting, alastor stepped away to head up to your shared bedroom to allow you to have a quick chat with your father. as soon as alastor left, lucifer pulled you close. "are you sure about him, duckie? you know i approve of any choice you make but isn't he a bit.. dangerous?" with a sigh, you take both of your fathers hands. "i know he isn't your favorite person, but just give him a chance, okay? he may be... well, a sadistic, cannibalistic overlord, but hes really a gentleman at heart, and he treats me well. i promise you, dad, everything will be fine. i just need you to trust me on this one, okay?" lucifer sighs, pulling you into a teary hug. "they grow up so fast..." he sniffled, and you chuckle. soon, lucifer turns and leaves, waving goodbye and teleporting away. closing the door behind him, you turn, finding yourself face to face with alastor. you both look into eachothers eyes for a few seconds, and you take a few deep breaths. "i would say that went pleasantly!" alastor grins, donning his usual smile. "it would have gone better if you hadn't been trying to one-up him the whole time!" you tease, chuckling as alastor raises a brow at you.

suddenly, he grabs your waist, gently twirling you around and pulling you into a slow waltz. "sadistic cannibal, hm? glad you think so highly of me, my dear." alastors usual grin softens, and you giggle. "oh, shut up, you! i was defending you!" as he spins you both to a stop, he raises your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to uour knuckles. you smile, cupping his face with your free hand. "thank you for trying tonight, al. it means a lot to me. you both mean a lot to me, and you don't have to be friends with him, but i'm just grateful that you kept it civil." a soft static fills the air, but not in a menacing way. the static melts into a soothing jazz tune, and alastor uses his cane to pull you in close as he cups your cheek. "anything for you, my dear. now, lets head to bed, hm?" you nod, gently kissing the hand on your cheek and linking arms as you both head to the bedroom.

OK THIS WAS SO HARD TO WRITE AND FOR WHAT?????? IM SO SORRY FOR TAKING A HOT MINUTE ON THIS NONNIE, DIALOGUE IS HARD AUGHESHEH GENTLE ALASTOR MY BELOVED>>>>>>>>>

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serawritesthings · 9 months

Text

CRAVE THE ROSE

summary: you were Arthur’s own slice of heaven in a world where it felt like everything he did brought him a step further to hell. pairing: arthur morgan x fem! reader tags: content 18+ minors dni, unprotected piv sex word count: 6.1k

a/n: hello, lovelies! I'm finally done with my first fic; I hope it's worth a read. Please let me know what you think; I would much appreciate it!♡

Most nights at Horseshoe Overlook were quiet, ignoring Uncle's snoring and the girl’s quiet gossiping. Often, you joined them, finding their conversations amusing. You discovered that Mary-Beth, Tilly, and Karen had a wild imagination and a wilder sense of humor.

Unfortunately, they decided you would be the object of their gossip lately. More so, you and Arthur. Your relationship appeared to be very interesting to them, and they weren’t shy of making it known as they teased you for the man’s apparent infatuation with you.

Because of that, you remain behind a tree by the horses, mulling. You had no interest in speaking to the girls tonight, scared they would bother you. You didn't wish to be the center of gossip instead of the one chitchatting.

Sitting alone for the first time in a while allowed your thoughts to take over. You worried for him immensly, just like you always did when it came to Arthur. It wasn’t like your concern came from nothing, finding that trouble always followed him.

More times than not, he came home bloodied and bruised, and sometimes he didn’t come home at all. It made you feel useless to only stay in camp and think of every what-if that could happen to the unpredictable man, but you couldn't help it.

There was a lingering feeling of certainty when you met Arthur. You knew you were the same - you bruise a little easier than most, though in different places. The hurt manifested somewhere far inside of him, a place where his walls were so high you weren’t sure even he could put a crack in it. But something about him wormed itself into your heart and manifested the passage that led to your deepest thoughts and feelings.

"Whatcha doin' out here, honey?" A voice strapped with roughness spoke out behind you, surprising you. You glanced at Arthur towering over you, granting him an exasperated stare, although your heart sang at the sight of him in one piece.

"I'm hiding." He raised his eyebrow, looking entertained, settling his hands on his belt.

"Now, what are you hidin' from?" A smirk appeared on his lips while he shook his head.

"The girls." A melancholy expression appeared on your face.

"Your hiding from… the girls?"

"Well, yes. It seems gossiping about us has become their favorite amusement." To speak about it made you scrunch your nose. You knew it was childish, but you were too irritated to care.

"I guess women never change, eh?" He studied you with a knowing smile while crouching down, touching your knee tenderly. You only scoffed at him.

"You gonna stay cooped up here like an angry little ball of fire all night?" He offered you his hand, snickering.

"Yes." Peering forward with sharp eyes, you avoided his hand.

Arthur chuckled as he gently placed his hand under your chin, gazing into your eyes. Your pout made him frown, and swiftly he tossed you over his shoulder and began walking.

"I ain't lettin’ you linger out here all night. " You gasped, eyes facing the ground, feeling his shoulder jab into your stomach with every step.

"Now, just what do you think you're doing?!" A screech escaped you while Arthur only laughed, giving your rear a playful slap.

"They'll see us!"

"They're drunk and asleep; calm your horse's missy."

Your eyes grew small at his comment, and you tried thinking of a way to make him release you. Lifting your hands, you grabbed the back of his pants, trying to push them down his hips. He chuckled at you and kept walking.

"Now, what do you think you're doin´?" He readjusted your squirming frame against his broad shoulder.

"It's okay, though; I like you a little feisty."

"Oh, I'll show you feisty." You continued trying to push his pants down further.

You kept bickering on the path to Arthur's tent. He was correct; there wasn’t a single person awake. You could see the smug smirk on his face when he realized he was right, but he focused on keeping his pants up, which proved futile. What a sight you two were.

He chuckled as he placed you on his bed, standing tall over your small frame. Amid your anger, now forgotten after your lighthearted bickering, you had failed to remember how much you missed him. Arthur had been away for a long time, leaving you to worry about him constantly. It made you feel useless, never knowing where or what he was doing. But he was here now, which instantly lifted your spirits.

Raising the corners of your mouth into a soft smile, you looked up at him through your lashes, grabbing his gun belt and bringing him closer to you till you felt the chilly surface of his buckle against your cheek. Putting your arms around his waist, you rested your cheek against his middle and sighed.

"Are ya done trying to pull my pants down now?" Arthur only raised his eyebrow, wondering where the feisty girl went.

"Mm." The fabric of his jeans silenced your voice as you relished in what was solely Arthur.

"I missed you so much." Your tone suddenly wavered, and you wrapped your arms tighter around him. It felt like he would disappear from you.

Feeling his coarse hand land softly on your head, he ran his fingers through your hair that was soft under his palms. Arthur wasn't good at feelings and often found himself tongue-tied when you spoke to him like this. His heart churned at your sudden display of emotions.

He missed you more than you could possibly know and spent most of the chilly nights in the wilderness, missing your soft voice and warm hands he had grown accustomed to. Before you, it didn’t matter where he was since his home was where he put his bedroll.

Now, though, his home was in your warm embrace. The ghost of your eyes tormented his every move, prodding him to return to you so the glimpses he thought he caught of you would become a reality.

How well you knew your Arthur. He was always quick with words but never with you. When you started paying attention to one another, dragging the words out of him required much effort. Stubborn as a mule, he was.

"Ah, I missed ya too, honey." His voice grew rough as he looked down at you. A warm feeling coursed through you at his words, pressing your cheek further against the cloth of his jeans, face illuminated by the lamp on the worn bedside table. The light bounced off the closed tent, creating a warm atmosphere.

Keeping close to Arthur, you looked up at him and staring back at you was a man with warm, soft-blue eyes and tousled honey-blond hair escaping his hat, looking slightly longer since you last saw him. Your chest tightened at the look he gave you, making you feel like the most precious thing he had ever seen.

Now, standing between one of your legs, you felt small beneath his tall frame. He felt many things watching you beneath him, face resting on the side of his hips, face too close to his guns for his liking, but he didn't move away. He felt all his limbs grow heavier when he observed you, finding only you to have this effect on him.

Your palms grazed the guns at his sides, being careful when lifting them from the holsters. They were heavier than you expected, not familiar with holding the weighty metal of a gun. The coarse leather of his gloves grasped your hands and lifted them with you, putting them on the bedside table.

A shrill ran through you, watching him grab them. He looked intimating, handling them like second nature compared to your unsure hands. It reminded you of the kind of man he was, or rather the man he had to be.

He could tell you felt wary; a familiar feeling of protectiveness he always directed towards you surging through him. You smiled slightly and stared at him through your lashes, palm stroking his thigh gently. He could feel himself melt at your behavior, realizing you were teasing him; testing the waters.

Most times, being intimate together went about the same way as you were inexperienced, and Arthur not wanting to make you uncomfortable. But he could feel the air had changed, making him stiff with intrigue and curiosity.

The tension in the tent was searing as you unbuckled his belt, letting it fall to the floor with a heavy thud. You were used to him taking control, but you felt unusually bold in his presence this night. Suddenly, Arthur suddenly lifted you to stand on the bed, making you tower over him as a breathless laugh left you.

Putting both of your hands on his stubby cheeks, he wrapped his arms around your middle, breathing in your sweet scent as he pulled you closer. Your stomach churned at having him this close, feeling his warm breath fan over you, making your nipples stiffen against the closeness of his mouth.

Slowly, he enclosed his mouth around your nipple, covered by the fabric of your blouse–being this close it proved hard for him not to. You closed your eyes at the sudden feeling, thumbs gently stroking the scruff of his beard as he grazed his tongue over your clothed bosom wantonly.

You lifted your trembling leg to rest at his side, his arm immediately coming to rest on your backside, bringing you closer to him. He caressed you tenderly as you felt him press his tongue over your thin blouse, making you moan slightly under your breath.

Opening your eyes, you looked down at him, the sight more erotic than anything you have ever seen. He held your gaze through hazy eyes, his reddening lips glistening slightly with saliva, resting on the now wet patch on your shirt. You lifted your hands, grabbed ahold of the hat almost falling off his head, and dropped it to the ground.

Running your fingers through his tousled hair, you brushed the wild pieces behind his ear, unkempt by his hat. He rumbled appreciatively at your action and you felt the rough leather from his gloves sneaking under your shirt that was folded into your skirt, finally touching your skin.

You were always so soft, and most of the time, he felt undeserving to touch something so perfect with his rough, unlawful hands, roughened by the hardship his life had brought onto him. Never should anyone who has done such malicious things put their hands on you–yet here he was, soiling you.

Your soft skin felt heavenly under his rugged palm as if delicate hands sculpted it with adoration so stout there couldn’t be a more beautiful creation than the one standing before him. He felt shameful but didn't have the strength to pull away; he never did. It felt too good to touch you, almost bordering on torture, the way he kept crawling after you like a starved man never getting enough.

Arthur tightened his grip on you, paying attention to your other side with his mouth, moving slowly as your breath hitch. You let your head fall over him, resting your cheek on the top of his head that you now cradled, enjoying the moment while wishing you could be in his arms forever.

Running your hands over his broad shoulders, you suddenly felt something wet touch your fingers. You perked up, looking at your hands. Covering your fingertips was a dark red substance. It was sticky like it had been there for a while.

"Arthur." You murmured, a light worry detectable in your voice. He didn't answer you, instead grabbing your thighs and hoisting you up his waist, burying his head in your chest. You wanted to giggle at him and probably would have if concern didn't seep into your mind.

"Arthur" Your voice was low, this time sounding more collected.

"It ain't my blood, darlin’," he mumbled, voice muffled by the fabric. You felt yourself relax, content no one had hurt him, but it left you wondering whose blood it was. "Don't you worry your pretty little head bout that," he said, like he could read your mind.

Arthur sat on the bed and it creaked under his weight, keeping you on his lap with your legs at either side of his thick thighs. He pushed your hesitant hips snugly against his, letting out a hum of appreciation, finally feeling your weight where he wanted you most.

Lifting his head from your chest, he gave you a look-over, and what a sight you were. Blush covered your cheeks as you looked at him with blissful but still worrisome eyes, a slight pink shade running down your neck into the cleavage of your blouse.

You brought your face close to his, feeling the roughness of his beard scrape against your cheeks as you leaned in, the worrying thoughts long gone as you felt his large hands slither into your skirt, kneading the soft flesh harshly under his palm.

You squeaked quietly, surprised by the sudden contact, your lips pausing, barely touching as you breathed in each other's air as your head spun in anticipation. The feeling of Arthur's warm hands so close to your exposed core made heat form in your lower belly and in your moment of bliss, you suddenly felt his lips on yours.

"Arthur." You whimpered against his mouth. Hearing his name from your mouth so pleadingly made the ache in his chest cramp at his heart, feeling the familiar warmth of pleasure spread. Amid his tongue massaging yours so sweetly contrasting the harshness of his hands, you lowered your hips softly.

The roughness of his jeans touching your center made a shockwave of rippling pleasure spread through you, making you choke out a mix between a moan and a cry. You lifted your chest slightly, leaning your head backward, making your hair fall in waves behind you.

Hugging Arthurs's head to your bosom, you felt his mouth on your breast once again. The feeling was too much, making your whole body tense as you tried to bring him closer. He hastily grabbed your blouse, dragging it out from the top of your skirt, and seeing he couldn't lift it over your head without unbuttoning it, he held the fabric in the middle, ripping the buttons quickly and exposing you to him. You wanted to complain, but feeling his mouth wrap around your now-bare nipple made you lose your train of thought.

They grew hard under the assault of his tongue; Arthur was sure he would’ve bitten them if he didn’t control himself. You were breathing frantically over him as his mouth moved against you, and he could hear how fast your heartbeat was.

He nuzzled the soft flesh, teeth grazing on the round bottoms of your breasts until he sucked on the peaks. You unknowingly motion your round hips in his lap, clearly getting worked up from his touch. His hand engulfed your hips, helping you rock back and forth on his lap.

The added pressure his hands brought made the rough material against your undergarments feel delicious as he moved his hips with yours, pushing you down every time you met his pelvis. The action was desperate, a silent plea for the bittersweet pleasure you sought within each other. His hands ran up your back, caressing the soft skin that shivered. Despite the chilly night, you were warm under his hands, calling for him to put his hands on you. You were beckoning him closer.

The moment was tender but filled with desperation that always seemed to linger around you. You ran your hands over Arthur's back, feeling the rough fabric of his worn-out shirt you knew so well. His broad shoulders bulged under your soft caresses as you could see his muscles tighten at your touch, his movements growing bolder as he once again placed his hands under your skirt, letting the fabric rest above your hips, exposing you to him. You felt him knead the warm flesh under his palms as he pushed you against him harder than before, pushing his crotch into yours, feeling the delicious warmth of your core against his bulge that strained against his pants. You could feel him under you, your face growing hot as his prominent member sat hard against you, pushing against its confinements.

"Oh," You could not help letting out a quiet moan as heat traveled through your body when you felt him. He stopped and looked up at you, leaving a string of spit between your breasts and his swollen lips. The look in his eyes made your breath hitch, his eyes hazy with a glint of warmth in them.

"Something wrong, honey?" His voice was low, almost sultry, and his hands softened against your bottom, no longer continuing his harsh treatment. The blush warmed your cheeks, realizing how exposed you were next to the fully dressed man. Having been lost in the moment, you hadn't noticed. But you did now. Arthur did, too, and praised the almighty; he didn't care if Colm O’Driscoll himself came and shot him right at this moment because he could die happy.

"No, I…" You tried to explain, but he seemed more focused on removing the ruined blouse from your arms, unable to help himself as he placed a few more kisses on the underside of your breasts. “I… uh…” The words were stuck in your throat, turning your brain into mush.

He took your hand, placing it on the lower side of his stomach, showing where he wanted your touch. You were timid, careful, and softly caressed the part over his waistline. You could tell he was growing impatient. His hands returned to your backside as he placed more kisses on your neck, slowly inching closer to your warmth while lifting you slightly, leaving room for your hand to travel further down. Cold fingers ran along the sides of your throbbing heat, teasing you and making you stiff with anticipation. Reaching your mouth, he placed his chapped lips on your soft ones, humming as he claimed you in the kiss. Thinking he would finally touch you, he suddenly lowered his hands and caressed your inner thigh, running his hands up and down. He then grabbed your hand, fitting it against his rigid member.

A relieved sigh left his body as he felt your small hand finally touch him. The relief only lasted so long before he felt the immense pleasure striking through his body at your soft caresses, hands leisurely moving up and down. They were unsure as they caressed him, but oh, they felt so good. Arthur felt his body go limp, almost like his muscles turned into heavy stones, as he rested his head in the crook of your neck.

You let out a breathless giggle as you grew more confident when you saw his desperation for your touch. Hugging his head to your chest with one hand embedded in his hair, the other continued to move against him. Slowly, you took one finger and stroked the tip that strained against his pants. A heavy groan left his throat when you touched the sensitive spot, although the feeling felt muted from the layers of clothes.

You looked down beside his head to unfasten the suspenders holding up his jeans. You let them hang over his shoulders as your hands unzipped his jeans, unbuttoning a few buttons on his union suit so you could wriggle your hand inside.

First, your fingers touched a patch of hair under his belly button that led down to his member, the muscles tensing in his stomach. You followed it down, feeling Arthur’s warm breath against your shoulder.

"Christ alive!" The words wormed their way from his throat, sounding strained. You had winded your nimble fingers into his pants, fingertips feeling over the ridge beneath his cock. The touch alone sent a white flash of pleasure through his whole body. Smiling sheepishly, you rubbed your thumb up against the frenulum of his member, coaxing harsh noises from the man.

His head lay limp on your shoulders as his now sweaty hair tickled your skin, your actions turning his brain into mush. Your hand leisurely pumps his cock, going as slow as he can take it as you feel something warm start sliding down the back of your hand.

Curiously, you tried to look between your tightly knit bodies, leaning slightly away from Arthur for a moment. Although you didn't get the chance to look before his arms wound around your waist, bringing you closer to his broad form yet again. He lifted his head like he had woken from a deep slumber, lids heavy as he spoke.

"What kind of spell do you have me under, woman?" He rolled his hips up to meet your hand as it descended at the base of his cock. You readjust on his lap, scooting back slightly to gain more leverage for moving your arm. Arthur's eyes shut tight; his brows furrowed as you brought your other hand to his cheek, caressing it lovingly with your thumb as you gazed at him with warm eyes.

Being this close made you see him more clearly: the slight sunburns on the tall places on his face from being out in the sun all day, the lines on his forehead permanent from his constant frowning, and the thin layer of dirt covering his skin from the endless hard work he put up with. Too focused on what you were doing, he didn’t notice your stare, but his eyes found yours already looking at him when your hand slowed down.

At that moment, his lust drowned in his love for you.

Sometimes, he found you looking at him like that, and it was safe to say it baffled him. The tenderness in your eyes made him tense, unsure. He wasn't used to your affection, but your every move was an act of pure fondness for him. Although it puzzled him, he craved your attention at him at all times and boasted at having such a woman at his hands. A woman no doubt many men surely dreamed of for the rest of their lives if they ever got the chance to lay their eyes on you.

He felt your hand release the grip on his member, letting its now red, swollen tip rest against his stomach. Nimbly, you unbuttoned the other buttons on his union suit, your other hand sneaking under the fabric to touch the revealed skin, caressing his chest slowly as you reached the last button.

Running your hands from his chest to his shoulders, you let the fabric fall on his arms as you stroked over the broad muscles of his thick arms, appreciating their size. He noted that your wandering hands had grown bolder and relished in your touch. You leaned into him, his arms tightening around you to help you closer as you scooted up in his lap so you could reach his neck with your lips.

You heard Arthur grunt as your exposed cunt made contact with his cock when you raised your hips slightly, dragging your wet folds to his tip, letting it rest there as your warm lips put nimble kisses on the sweaty skin under his jawline. His shaft twitched when the muscles in his stomach clenched, the tip dripping precum on his skin as he felt his sack tighten.

"Do you want to kill me?" Breathlessly he spoke to you. Smiling through your kisses, you relished the power you seemed to have over him. "Maybe." You giggled against his skin, continuing to place timid kisses along his neck and pretending to bite him with your teeth. He scoffed at your playfulness, grabbing your bottom and grinding you over his swollen head.

A startled moan left your wet lips, surprised by the sudden contact. The pleasure that shot through your body was sweet but laced with a sharpness that made you quiver in his grasp. It felt delicious; the anticipation of the movement filled every inch of you with deep shivers that racked through your already shaking body.

Your mouth was left gaping against his shoulder, your lingering kisses paused by Arthur pushing you against him in small motions so he could feel the delicious friction your swollen lips created against his rigid member.

"You want me to touch you, darlin'?" His gruff voice spoke. You mewled against him, all traces of the dominance you thought you had for a second go, and he didn't even have to try. It made you realize he only let you because he wanted to.

Calmly, his fingers eased toward your wetness that now almost seemed to drip down your thigh in complaint at being untouched for so long. Two of his fingers parted to stroke either side of your lips, almost throbbing as you clenched around nothing. The strokes continued, never touching you where you wanted him to. You were going crazy. How could he tease you so?

"Arthur." Your voice was quiet and begging, an undertone of wholehearted want seeping through. He hummed against you, lifting your head to place his lips on yours as his fingers finally disappeared beneath your wet folds, gliding toward your clit and resting there. He began drawing small circles that blur your vision as your eyes rolled back, letting out ungodly sounds muted against his lips. His lips continued to move against you, but when he noticed yours weren't, a low chuckle escaped him. Seeing you sitting on top of him with your blouse discarded and skirt lifted to reveal the tempting flesh to his eyes, as your face showing nothing but pure pleasure, drove him mad. The pads of his fingers are rough against your delicate parts, only adding to the bliss surging through your body. As he stroked you gently, your back arched as your hands frantically grabbed his arms. You feel your hands shake, your grip tight on his biceps as his two fingers sink into your hole. You gasped at being filled, clenching your walls tight around his fingers. The stretch burned, his fingers thicker than yours.

Sweet moans reach Arthur’s ears as he moves against your spongy walls, the squelching sound of him entering you filling the quietness of the night. Knuckle deep in you, he bends them expertly, causing your breath to hitch, making you spread your thighs wider for him as you grind down on his hand. His motions were rapid as he dove deep into your heat. Your thighs contracted as you felt your whole body tense, his arms moving underneath your touch.

“Oh, Arthur, please.” You spotted his warm eyes staring into yours when you turned your gaze up at him. Your eyes were pleading with him to take you, tears brimming at the intense feelings he filled you with. He knew what you wanted but had to ensure you were ready, knowing you would hurt otherwise.

“I know, honey, just a little more.” Arthur caressed your hair softly as his jaw clenched, sweat dripping down his forehead as his eyes were stuck on you. He felt hopeless when you looked at him like this. You could get him to do whatever you wanted when looking at him like that; hell, Arthur would even kill for you if you asked. He was wet with your slick, his fingers jamming inside you as you lifted your legs, trying to escape his assault. The sudden change of pace made the pleasure unbearable. Not a single sound left your mouth as your eyebrows furrowed and your mouth hung open. He grabbed your hips, bringing you down against his fingers so you couldn’t escape.

Arthur hoisted you up, fingers leaving your dripping heat as he placed you over his throbbing head. Feeling your wetness wrap around him made his vision blur, ears ringing from the blood that rushed from his head. You leaned back, placing your hands on his knees as his hands found your hips. You sank slowly, watching his member disappear between your folds. The unison makes your heart swell, the thought of your body becoming one running through you like warm whisky, setting your blood afire.

Arthur’s breathing was heavy, his hands shaking slightly from the intenseness of the moment. Every movement was a silent plea for the moment never to end, wanting to stay connected for all eternity in each other’s embrace. The world disappeared around you, becoming a blur. The only thing you saw was each other as you moved over him, feeling him lift you to the top to lower you so you could hug him warmly. Your walls clamped down on him, his mushroom head prodding deep inside your spongy walls, eliciting whines from your open mouth. Arthur was used to being quiet, but you were struggling, terrified someone would hear. You wouldn’t be able to stand the humiliation if you were.

“Come here, darlin’.” He placed his brawny arms under your thighs, his member leaving you as he stood up and laid your back gently on the bed, his hand under your head. Always so careful. Your arms reached for him, seeking his solace and safe embrace as he returned to you, putting his weight on you as close as he could without hurting you. He entered you again as his head rested in the crevice of your neck, panting. He stuffed you full, fuller than you’ve ever been. Your cunt stretched obscenely around him, lips sealing around his cock with a snug, velvet grasp. He set the pace this time. His muscular frame was going slow, but his strokes were hard; your body was being pushed up the bed from the harshness of his thrusts. He brought you deeper into the mattress whenever you felt him dive back inside. Your legs found their way around his waist, bringing him closer to you. Arthur loves how you cling to him, helping you by holding you close as he prods you deeper. He takes your hand, bringing it to your chest and placing it between your breasts as he murmurs something in your skin. You’re too blissed out to hear what as his voice melts like honey at the base of your neck.

“Oh god!” You cry out between his thrusts, moonlight seeping through the folds of the tent and splashing his skin. His palms tremble against you from the effort. He cooed at your noises, shushing you by capturing your lips with his. You had messed up his hair in your blissful frenzy, and his eyes were glossy with lust. His hands ran down the side of your body that arched underneath him, grabbing your thigh and pushing the plush skin up to rest beside you so he could bury the whole cock inside you. You almost felt him in your guts as he prodded against your flesh, leaving you to mumble nonsense into his mouth between the gasps that escaped you from the force of his thrusts. The slide of his length against the silky, slick clench of your cunt is nothing less than ambrosial.

Arthur breathes heavily between clenched teeth as you tighten around him. He slowed his pace to draw himself almost entirely out of you before filling you again with a languid thrust. The coil inside him was tightening, threatening to snap. He was holding you so close now, shielding you from the world as you lay underneath him, eyes glazed with a faraway look. Each caress from his hand said the words his sex-addled mind couldn’t make his mouth form.

I love you

He wrapped his arm under your waist, supporting your arching body, pistoning you now with brutal efficiency. Still, affection lingered in everything he did. He never gripped you too hard as his rough hands remained gentle. For you. Only for you. His hands slipped down the planes of your stomach to apply gentle pressure to the hooded bundle of nerves, sending a shock through you like a burst of electricity. Whatever words you tried to speak came out as little more than a garbled cry as he teased furious circles over your still swollen clit, arms tight against his neck.

“Please.” Lust-filled sounds left you as you begged. You didn’t know what for, his assault leaving your thoughts in shambles. He doubted there was a more beautiful sight than the woman he loved unraveling under the force of his thrusts. Your walls clenched around him, contracting as you sucked him more profoundly into your cunt.

“I love you!” You cried into his ear; Arthur’s eyes shut tight as his hips spluttered, pumping deeper inside you, noises he let out erupting from his lips in a sound that could only be likened to a primal whine. With a final uneven snap of his hips, the coil inside him snapped, and his release spilled inside you. His forehead rested between your shoulder blades as he trembled, your hands resting in his hair lovingly amidst the tremors running through your body. Arthur’s hips snapped up into you one last time, pushing up into you as far as possible to continue feeling the warmth and tightness of your cunt. His cum spurted out, coating your walls and escaping your entrance that he was stuffing with his cock. He gripped your thighs, moving his hips languidly, basking in the sharp pleasure running through him as his vision faded.

You could feel him relaxing in your grasp, heavy breathing leaving him as he gently kissed your trembling skin. You hummed over him at his touch, a pleasureful little sound that, despite being wholly spent, had him wondering if he could muster up the energy to retake you as his head lifted to claim your lips, tongue flickering lazily out to tangle with your own. Arthur grabbed your thighs that were wound tightly around his waist as he scooted down the bed, pressing them to flush against the mattress. He spread you wide, your body covered in sweat and cum, exposed before his eyes as he wasted no time putting his mouth on your puffy cunt. His tongue was warm as he entangled it in your wetness. Your hands tried to grip your hair, sheets, and headboard to find stability until they rested in Arthur’s hair. He could feel you pull on his roots, the feeling making him groan against you. The sound created vibrations against your sensitive clit. It felt like his mouth was eating you whole as he nuzzled as close as he could, sucking ferociously on your tender flesh. His tongue entered you, making you dizzy as blood buzzed in your ears. You looked down at him, breath hitching as you found his hazy eyes already on yours. It felt sinful to keep eye contact with him as he performed such a sensual act on you, but his admiring eyes left you searing with pleasure. You couldn’t look away, not yet. You felt him wind his arms under your thighs as he gripped your inner thighs, sitting up so he was resting on his heels.

“Arthur!” You exclaimed at the sudden motion. Your head rested on the bed as Arthur lifted you off it, his arms wrapped around your stomach, hugging you tightly against him as he buried his head further into your cunt. The air left you from his actions, your legs hitting his back to escape the frenetic torture he put you through. Wet noises filled the tent, Arthur’s dark eyes gazing down at you. You looked sinful, he thought. Usually so innocent, but at this moment, with your hair spread out on the messy sheets, a pink flush covering your cheeks, and dazed eyes staring up at him, you looked like he had corrupted you and filled every inch of you with pure ecstasy. He lifted his mouth from you, the lower part of his face glistening wet as his fingers found your clit. They stroked you gently as he hummed at your quiet mewls.

“Gettin’ close, honey?” Arthur cooed as you stared up at him with glistening eyes, brows furrowed in pleasure. Your expression told him enough, so he lowered his head again and extended his tongue inside you, massaging your walls. It felt good, so good that high-pitched whines started leaving you. His one hand found your mouth, muffling the sounds. Your hips began twitching, moving against his mouth as you struggled between putting distance from his lips and pulling him closer. His fingers were relentless, rubbing you faster to where you heard ringing in your ears from the searing pleasure you felt coursing through you. The fire pooling low in your abdomen started spreading, leaving a burning trail as it flowed through your every vein. Your head rolled back against the sheets, mouth open wide, but no noise left you as hot tears fell from your eyes. The world slowed down, your orgasm shattering your body. Rippling through you, it made you tense up, your walls pulsing around Arthur’s tongue as he slowly massaged your insides, intensifying your orgasm. Your hips started jerking against him, his arm holding you still as he hummed against you while observing you underneath him.

The world before you was blurred when your eyes slowly opened, the ringing now faint as you felt Arthur kiss the inside of your thigh, his hand rubbing your stomach soothingly. He lowered you onto the bed as your eyes gained focus. He could feel you gaze at him as he lifted you to lay your head on the pillow, caressing your cheeks. It was quiet; the only thing cutting through the air was your frantic breathing, both of you trying to catch your breath. Your eyes locked, a silent understanding between you as your trembling hand brushed his sweaty strands behind his ears.

“I love you,” He mumbled against your skin, eyes peering up at you. There was a look in his eyes you hadn’t seen before, and it took a few seconds for you to recognize it. Remorse. “But I don’t deserve you.” He sounded defeated, eyes staring absentmindedly like he was off somewhere else. It was a rarity for him to be this honest with you, but his words rang true. He didn’t deserve you; he knew it, you knew it, and everyone around you knew it. But he had you, body and soul. He had every part of you, even the parts you wanted to shield from both him and the world. His arms wrapped around you, covering you in his safe embrace, and your heart ached inside you when gazing at the man in front of you.

Before you could speak, he placed his lips against yours. There wasn’t much to be said anymore, your hearts speaking the words your lips couldn’t utter.

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