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#there's a slight pang of jealousy
tending-the-hearth · 2 months
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god i'm thinking about how "the stolen chariot" takes place post-"titan's curse" and how that's a turning point for percy and clarisse's relationship, and how clarisse probably saw straight through percy's facade and saw exactly how he was treated during that time at camp and how sad and lonely he probably was because grover was tripping over himself around the hunters and chiron was so focused on thalia and annabeth was gone
and that leads me into thinking about the head counselors again and how maybe, in their own ways, they gave percy little things to show their support. moments of help, little gifts.
silena sitting in the pegasus stables with percy, holding onto his arm and being a big sister presence to him. not talking, just being there for him, giving him some semblence of stability
beckendorf dragging percy off to test new weapons he made in the arena, turning it into a game that had a smile spreading over percy's face for the first time in days
travis and connor sneaking coke and candy into camp for their honorary brother, leaving it in the poseidon cabin with little cards that had the corniest jokes written on them
clarisse spars with percy more, pulling him to the arena when she sees the stormy look in his eyes, when he can't think about anything else but how frustrated he is
lee pulls percy into the medical tent to test his healing abilities with water, because it's been an obsession for the apollo cabin since percy arrived, and he can't help but make percy laugh with his eagerness
castor and pollux convince their father to let up on percy, just a little bit, to let him have a looser curfew, letting him sit out by the lake for as long as he needs, sometimes sitting with him in the quiet
katie leaving little plants in the poseidon cabin, little succulents and flowers that are easy to care for, something small that makes percy's eyes light up every time he gets a new one, and he lines the windows of the cabin with them
malcolm, bless him, is so aware of his sister and percy's crushes on each other, and takes it upon himself to make sure that his sister's best friend doesn't waste away, and he's the one who makes sure percy eats and sleeps and stays healthy.
and clarisse will deny it until the day she dies, but percy knows that she's the one setting everything up. it was her suggestion, though the other counselors know they'll get fried if they say anything.
and he doesn't say anything, not until after "the stolen chariot", when he and clarisse are sitting down for a burger, and he brings it up quietly. and clarisse just huffs and rolls her eyes, and percy's heart warms so much at the fact that, despite the winter being the worst one of his life, he was surrounded by people who loved him and supported him.
(annabeth definitely gives hugs to all the head counselors when malcolm tells her, because they kept her seaweed brain going)
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spirit-lanterns · 4 months
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THIRST COMMENTS 2
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synopsis: (celebrity AU) your girlfriend get's jealous when she reads your thirst comments. (part 2/2) part 1 here.
featuring: kafka, himeko, serval, yukong, topaz
rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)
warnings: sub! afab fem reader, jealous s.ex, cunnlingus (reader giving and receiving), pet names, slight degradation (use of whore in kafka's), rough s.ex, semi-public s.ex (himeko), possessiveness, lap s.ex, fin.gering, handcuffs, use of vib.rators, mating press, strap ons, doggy style, might be ooc, not proofread.
art credits: bad thinking diary
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KAFKA
“You liked all that attention, huh? You liked it when all your fans were thirsting over you on the web?” 
Kafka scoffs and bites her lip, keeping a firm hand on your scalp as she pushes you further into her skirt. The exasperated gasp that spilled past your lips pleased your girlfriend greatly while she listened to you with a grin, as Kafka couldn’t help but satiate her jealousy by making you remember just who exactly your lover was.
“Ooh, a new comment. Let’s see what it reads, shall we?” She drums her fingers against the top of your head and groans when she feels your tongue lap eagerly over her clit. You two had just gotten off the filming of the “thirst comments” video that would be uploaded to some popular celebrity news channel, but Kafka found herself growing envious over just how many of your fans lusted for you all over the internet. 
The moment you two stepped into Kafka’s private limousine, she had you pushed down on your knees in front of her, one hand guiding you to peel her panties off from her skirt with your teeth, and the other hand reaching for her phone so she could read some of the other comments thirsting about you from Twitter. 
“Anonymous said: I think (Reader)’s moans would be the cutest thing to listen to. I’m practically wet just thinking about it.”
Kafka chuckles when she finishes reading that thirst comment out loud, gripping your scalp a bit harder and causing you to moan. 
“My, my…the commenter was right. Your moans are the cutest thing to ever listen to. In fact, I think I feel myself getting a bit wet, don’t you feel it?” She grits her teeth and yanks your hair up a little to see the glistening sheen of her pussy juices smeared around your face. The sight makes Kafka groan with pleasure, a wave of possession filling her chest as she pushes you back down to continue eating her out. “Mmpf…such a good girl…she knows exactly who she belongs to.”
Kafka scrolls a bit further through her Twitter feed, eyes landing on another comment that sends another pang of jealousy through her heart. 
“Anonymous said: I’d drink up (Reader) till there’s nothing leaking out.” 
Kafka grits her teeth at that and subconsciously pushes your head a bit deeper into her cunt. She revels in the way you writhe and squeak, gripping her thighs in your hands as you lap up her cum so eagerly. “Really? They want to drink you up till there’s nothing left? Hah…if only they knew that you were the one who is lapping up my juices so thirstily. You needy girl…”
She smirks and cups your face to pull you up and meet her lips in a sloppy kiss. You’ve never seen Kafka so…possessive in all your time of dating her, yet you’d be lying if you said you weren’t getting turned on at the thought of it. Normally she’s much more in control of her emotions, yet ever since you finished the filming of the thirst comments video, Kafka had been a little out of it till you got to the car.
“One more…let’s read another thirst comment about you, hmm? See what all your fans have to say about a cute whore like you.” Kafka chuckles and her eyes practically glow at this one particular comment. One hand reaching down to grope your ass possessively, while the other clicks on the comment to see it enlarged.
“Anonymous said: (Reader) is just so cute and innocent. I want to make her cum on my fingers until her voice goes hoarse and she’s crying for more.”
Kafka tsks at this and pulls you closer onto your lap, causing you to yelp. “Cute and innocent…” she repeats in a low, husky voice. “Well that’s far from what I see right in front of me.”
She chuckles darkly and snakes her fingers down to your pants, teasing you through the cloth before whispering into your ear. “I bet I can make you cry far, far better than that fan of yours…wouldn’t you agree?”
“Y…Yes…Kafka.” You murmur quietly, breath hitching when she kisses your neck. 
“Good girl. I’ll make you cum better than any idolizer in the world. You are mine to devour…”
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HIMEKO
“Hmm…I really didn’t expect your fans to be so bold, my love.” 
Behind the set of the video “thirst comments” Himeko was currently pinning you up against the wall with her thigh slotted in between your legs. Though filming took place not too long ago, it seems as if Himeko has gotten just a tad bit jealous when she heard you reading off all your thirst comments for your portion of the video. 
So now, here you were with your passively jealous girlfriend clinging to you while the staff and crew of the set chatted idly not too far away. Though they couldn’t see where Himeko had you pinned up, if you made any loud noises, they’d be immediately alerted to your proximity. 
“Let’s read one of your beloved thirst comments, shall we? Just to remind you of what you remember.” 
Himeko purrs and hands you her phone, allowing you to open up her Twitter and see the mass amounts of thirst comments clogging up her feed. “Go on, read one…” Himeko murmurs, pushing you back against the wall as she begins sensually rubbing up your thigh. 
“Ah…mmpf…@/servalisms said: not even a guillotine could take away the head I’m about to give (Reader)…”
Though very creative and honestly quite flattering, you gulped and looked up to see your girlfriend staring down at you, with eyes that seemed clouded by something you could not decipher. “H…Himeko?” You murmured in a softer tone. 
“Pffh! Quite creative your fans are, hm?” She gave you a teasing smirk, before suddenly dropping down on her knees in front of you.
“Ah! H-Himeko—”
“Just keep reading, darling. Keep reading those little thirst comments of yours and I’ll show you just how good my head game is for you sweet little pussy.” She suddenly pulled your pants down to part your thighs with her hands, nudging your panties with her nose and evoking a series of stifled little whimpers. “Come on…don’t be shy…”
She chuckles and continues prodding you for more access to your pussy. Leaving you no other choice but to continue reading as per request from your girlfriend. 
“Anonymous said: the way I’d fuck (Reader) in every position is wi— AH!” 
You didn’t even get to finish reading the thirst comment before Himeko suddenly plunged her tongue in to lap at your folds behind the thin, scantily fabric of your already dampening underwear. It was getting increasingly harder to focus on the pixelated words as Himeko just kept pushing against you with more force. Breaths hitching at the way she began losing control in your body…
“Every position? If only they knew your favorite position to be is under me,” Himeko chuckles, hiding the envy behind her golden eyes before planting a sweet kiss to your inner thigh. The sight of her rosy red lipstick left a faint imprint on the surface of your skin, and it left you feeling breathless with the way your normally composed girlfriend was beginning to show her true colors. 
“Keep reading,” Himeko all but purrs, voice almost a throaty growl when she pulls your underwear down. “If you can’t even read the words on the screen, I’d say it’s a job well done for me.” 
You gulped and shakily looked down to read another Twitter comment. Eyes blurring between the lines, but managing to focus on one singular post. 
“@/sinsmockingbird said: (Reader) is so cute and beautiful. I just want to bend them over the table and completely ruin them till they’re a crying mess.” 
It was difficult to read every word properly —given by how hard your thighs were shaking— but when you looked down, you saw Himeko biting her lip and staring rather intently at your cunt. It was kinda embarrassing to witness, but confused as to why she suddenly stopped her teasing, you gently tapped on the side of her cheek.
“Himeko…? Did I say something wrong?” Your thighs immediately buckled when Himeko dove her tongue in to press firmly against your hole, reveling in the way it twitched and puckered while your wobbly little legs tried so desperately to keep you upright. A small whine left your throat at the feeling of your girlfriend starting to go to town on you, eating you out with her hands gripped firmly on your thighs, while the tip of her tongue split you open with groans riveting from Himeko’s voice. 
“God…you truly have no idea do you,” the usually calm woman exhales, diving back in to taste your juices while you buck your hips rather pathetically into her face. “If only your fans knew I was the one bending you over each night. The one making you cry until your tears have clouded you blind.”
As if to prove her point, Himeko suddenly nibbles against your clit and forces a small cry from your lips. 
“So delightful, your noises are.” Himeko chuckles, staring up at you with a lustful gaze that kept you pinned under the redhead’s touch. 
“I hope you always remember just how good your girlfriend pleases you.”
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SERVAL
“Aghhhh, I knew your fans were down bad for you, but I had no idea they were this down bad.” 
Serval chuckles rather hastily, but the envy was green in her eyes that once shown bright blue. Your girlfriend had tried to contain her jealousy after the recent filming of your “thirst comments” video, yet when your portion of the video came up —aka it was your turn to read thirst comments from fans— Serval was making it very obvious that she was jealous from the get go. 
Well, it’s not like your girlfriend was that good of an actress in the first place. She was a singer, not an actor, and it resulted in some of her emotions spilling over after the filming, because suddenly you were locked up in Serval’s dressing room, on her lap, and on her couch while she lazily fingers you. 
“Ah…shit, you’re so tight baby…” Serval groans, keeping an eye on her dressing room door while your soft, quiet whimpers play in her ear. Your phone sat idly in your hand as you could barely focus on the text on screen, your girlfriend pummeling her fingers inside you and distracting you from the task at hand.
“A…Anonymous said: I would let (Reader) peg me, no fucks given—”
You clamped your free hand over your mouth to stifle a loud moan as you felt the tips of Serval’s long fingers hitting that spongy spot inside you. Though pleasurable, this felt like torture to you while Serval laughed aimlessly and twisted her fingers around to see you writhe. “Peg me? As if this sweet thing could ever peg anyone in her life.” Serval chuckles and thrusts her fingers a bit faster, the middle and ring fingers of her right hand pumping so steadily into your cunt. “Come on, let’s read the next comment. Don’t tell me you’re at your limit yet.”
Serval kisses the navel of your neck and smirks up at you with that cocky expression she always had. Driven forward by her sloppy thrusts, you groaned and narrowed your eyes to focus on the screen in your hand, before latching onto Serval so you wouldn’t accidentally tip over.
“@/the-voxinton-tavern said: (Reader) played her role in her newest horror movie so well! I’d just want to see her legs shaking in a different context.”
Serval scoffs at this before giving your outer right thigh a soft slap to the skin, causing you to yelp and nearly jump out of your girlfriend’s lap. “I’ll have your legs shaking so much you’d be clinging to me to carry you out of this room.” Serval husks, sending a shiver down your spine. 
“Aha…well at the pace we’re going at, you’ll be achieving your goal v-very soon…” you mumble, an attempt at making a light joke falling on deaf ears. 
“I know. No one knows your body more than I do.” Serval whispers, pushing your body up higher as she forces a third finger in to fill you up even more. At the sudden stretch of your girlfriend’s three fingers all attempting to fit inside you, you buckled your hips forward and gasped, clutching onto the singer’s sweaty shoulders. “S-Serval! Not too quickly—”
“It’s okay, it’ll fit. You’ve taken so many bigger things up you before.” Serval grins, nudging your cheek with her nose. “Alright, let’s read the last thirst comment. Read it all the way through and maybe I’ll let you cum.”
“Maybe?!” You groaned and glared at your girlfriend with a somewhat pouty expression. 
“Maybe.” Serval grinned, teasingly kissing your nose and urging you to read the next comment. 
“Anonymous said: if (Reader) ever needs a chair, my face is readily available 🤭”
Serval actually laughs at this and suddenly slides her fingers out of your cunt, hoisting you up in those strangely strong arms of hers, and placing you down on the couch to crawl over you in a pinning position. 
“If (Reader) ever needs a chair?” Serval tilts her head, a devious smirk on the blonde woman’s face. “Why would you ever need to sit on something other than my lap, babygirl?”
You whine when she suddenly thrusts her fingers back in and causes a cacophony of moans to slip past your lips. Suddenly Serval is faster, harder, and her fingers are starting to plunge further up into your folds, causing you to arch your back and nearly scream. 
“You’re so fucking hot…” Serval curses, pulling you closer before bringing you closer and closer to your impending orgasm. “I’m so glad that you’re mine.” 
And as if to prove her point, she thrusts her hand till the palm slaps wonderfully against your clit, causing a small squirt of cum to drip past and coat her already slick fingers.  “That’s my good fucking girl…” Serval groans, pulling her fingers out to clean them with her tongue. “My good fucking girl…”
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YUKONG
“This generation is rather prude with their flirts, hm? That’s no way to pick up a lady…”
Yukong tsks her tongue at the particular thirst comment she sees regarding you and your body. Though thirst comments are almost always a joke within the celebrity community and space, Yukong being of the older generation, was not pleased at the slightest to see how her girlfriend was ogled at and thirsted over on the internet. 
Especially to this degree.
“@/lindseynguyen said: (Reader) can step on me with her heels and I’ll thank her for it.” 
Yukong narrows her eyes at the thirst before sighing and looking down at you. “Honestly, how masochistic can your fans be, dear? I’m starting to believe you could punch them and they’d get turned on, don’t you agree?”
You’d respond, of course, if not for the fact that you were currently handcuffed to the hotel bed with one of Yukong’s personal vibrators stuffed up your hole. Ever since you two had left the set of the thirst comments video to head back to your hotel room, Yukong had you handcuffed to the post of the bed, sliding her hidden vibrator out of her suitcase so that she could shove it up your cunt for “discipline.” Apparently, for as old and wide as Yukong could be, she was still capable of getting jealous, evident with her rough treatment of you the moment you stepped foot in your suite. 
“Darling? Oh, that’s right. You can’t even speak, just moan like the needy girl you are, so desperate for my command.” Yukong strokes a gentle hand across your face, wiping the overstimulated tears from your eyes and giving you a kiss. “Don’t worry, I’ll finish soon enough, then you can get the glorious orgasm you so desperately crave.” 
Yukong grins and glances back down at her phone. 
“@/chamomillecamille said: (Reader) would NOT be able to hide if we were in a hotel together. The way I’d be screaming her name.”
Yukong raises a brow at this, before chuckling and turning up the vibrations of the toy. “Oh, how ironic isn’t that, my love?” She traces a small drip of precum sliding from your inner thigh, before scooping it up with her finger and licking it. “The fact that I have you tied up and fucked in a hotel room at the moment…I bet Camille would be seething that she can’t savor this.”
As the vibrations of the toy are turned up, the buzz pulsing through your sensitive walls increases and causes you to close your thighs out of pure pleasure. A whine leaks past your throat, alerting Yukong to your now closed position and causing her to tsk at the sight. 
“My darling, I thought we went over this. Legs stay open during your punishment.” 
Yukong moved your thighs back into their spread position on the bed, eying the way the pastel blue vibrator was now covered in your slick and lube. You caught the older woman drooling a bit, saliva pooling behind her canines before she swallows and moves closer to adjust the shaking toy. 
“So wet…it’s almost slipping right out…” she pushes the toy back deeper into its original position, smiling at the way you could barely keep it together. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. Last one, I promise. No more teasing.”
She playfully flicks the clit of your swollen, sensitive cunt before diving her eyes back to the faded screen. 
“Anonymous said: I want (Reader) to break my back like a glowstick.” 
The older woman chuckles quite amusedly at this, picturing the thought before sliding the dripping wet vibrator out with a pop. “Breaking backs like a glowstick? Wouldn’t that hurt, though?” Yukong tilts her head and smirks at the way you whine with how she tore away your orgasm from you. “If anything, I think your back would be the one broken, my dear.”
She hoists you up by the waist and props your legs up over her lap to get a better view of your sensitive, glistening folds. Using her two thumbs, she spreads them open apart and can’t help but let out a throaty grunt. 
“All mine…to think this sweet woman is all mine…”
Pushing your legs forward suddenly, you nearly cry when she pushes your legs down in a position you find yourself in countless times before. A mating press. 
“Here, let me show you just how good I could break you.” Yukong purrs, the soft, older woman figure now gone and replaced with someone much more dominant. “I hope all these guests hear just how loud you are when I’m done with you.”
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TOPAZ
“Heh, to think I had so much competition vying for your love, babe.”
Topaz raises a brow while reading a particular thirst comment about you on her phone. Normally she’d be more focused on you at the moment —given by how she was currently fucking 7 inches of her strap on into your cunt, doggy style— yet it seemed as if your girlfriend was focused on more…trivial affairs, as she was more upset over the fact that fans were getting pretty possessive over you, rather than the fact that you were buck naked and grinding on her.
“Anonymous said: TELL TOPAZ TO BACK AWAY. (Reader) is mine and mine only.” 
Your girlfriend narrowed her eyes at this and gave a particularly hard thrust with her hips. “Pfft, wow, jealous much?” Topaz traced the palms of her hands over your ass and gave the soft, rear ends a harsh squeeze. “I mean, we aren’t even officially dating when it comes to the public, is our relationship that obvious on screen?” 
You attempted to answer, but with the way Topaz was grinding the thick shaft against your insides, pulling any word or sound out of you to turn into a moan, had you practically speechless as you were left face planting into your pillow.
“I mean, we do flirt and touch each other sometimes on camera, but I mean come on…” she continued her shallow thrusts and pressed firm nail indents into your sides. “Just listen to this one baby, just listen to it.” 
“@/lenzxii said: The way I would let (Reader) literally fuck me until my only coherent thought is her, step on me, beat the dog shit out of me, abuse me, run me over with her car, carve her name in my thigh, let her use any hole she wanted, cheat on me, rob me, steal my shit, kidnap me and I’ll still say thank you for blessing me with your presence.”
Somehow Topaz said all of that under one breath, eyes practically popping out of their sockets as she had to take a quick moment to reread the absolute unit of a thirst comment about her girlfriend. “Lord almighty, babe, your fans are practically ravenous over you.” 
“Go…Go figure…” you mumble out in a grunt, noticing how Topaz was starting to slow down with her thrusts, as she was beginning to get distracted with her Twitter feed. “Topazzzzz…please move faster…”
“Hm? Oh, Aha…you want me to go faster? What, do you need me that bad?”
“Yes!” You exclaim almost immediately, now slightly annoyed that she was focusing more on her phone, than you. “You wanted to fuck me because you were jealous so act like it! Stop staring at that phone like it’s your girlfriend, I’m your girlfriend!”
You pouted up at her and gave her the cutest, neediest eyes Topaz had ever seen on a woman, causing her to blush and nearly drop her phone on the bed. “Ah…fuck. You really are cute when you look at me like that…” she chuckles, gripping your hips tighter and repositioning her angle for a better thrust game. “Alright, alright…just don’t pout at me like that. You’ll make me feel bad for putting you here.”
She leans forward and kisses each of your shoulders, starting up her thrusts again before glancing at her phone one last time. 
“Okay, I know I said I’d pay attention to you for now on, but this thirst is funny.”
“@/melodazeee said: literally need (Reader) to be elbow deep and braiding my guts 😍🙏”
Topaz snickers at this, before moving her hips back and forth behind you and pushing the tip of her shaft deeper till you were practically split. “Elbow deep and braiding your guys, huh?” The image is so funny for Topaz, as she could never imagine her sweet and cute girlfriend rearranging someone’s guts. “Oh how different reality is, huh babe?” 
She wraps her arms around your stomach and could practically feel the small belly bulge she was giving you, every time she pistoned in and out with her cock. The sight of you creaming around her hips and staining the sheets with your juices almost too much for Topaz to handle. 
“Fuck…if only I could show the world how hot your face and moans are when I take you…” she groans, before keeping you locked against her body. Breasts pushing languidly against your back while Topaz begins toying with your clit with her fingers. 
“I wish I could tell the world how it’s me making you scream behind the scenes…but at least you know it’s only me. That’s all I really need…”
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toruslvt · 1 month
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regarding bff gojo, (sorry if this is insane) but can i request a bff gojo x fem!reader x random girl where they have a 3sum but gojo eventually just ends up paying attention to reader bcs he’s IN LOVE W HER ??!
⋆ mdni. bff gojo satoru. basically all things that happen in a threesome: Satoru, you and the girl make out w eachother, fingering, creampie ( to reader ). AAA NOT INSANE AT ALL I GOT BUTTERFLIES READING YOUR ASK 🫶.
 ⋆ tried this w a different writing style aaa idk how to feel. anyways... let me know what u think.
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sometimes you wondered what Satoru’s hidden skill was, to make you fall so easily into his schemes. was the puppy eyes he gave you, adding how he wanted to spend more time with his adorable best friend? following the logic that Satoru even texted you from the toilet, separation anxiety perhaps. he was blunt and direct, that’s a fact, but you did not expect for your him to suggest a threesome all of a sudden, sure, you had sex once but you couldn’t quite wrap your head around the fact that Satoru was already planning a second time.
the girl sitting in his bed is quite pretty, and oddly similar to you, with the same hair, skin tone and body shape, it was kind of scary at first, but you brushed it off considering it was a mere coincidence. yet Satoru looks utterly excited, almost bouncing off the walls as his eyes trail from you to her, and again until someone speaks.
“come here” he gruffs, your best friend’s voice is already husky and deep with desire, tapping his thighs in a silent invitation for you to join as where his hands caress the other girl’s sides, he’s cupping her breasts but his eyes remain on you, “you’re gorgeous” it’s a whispered word that Satoru speaks with his gaze still locked in yours, swiftly shifting to her eyes as to make her feel as if the compliment was for the both of you, Satoru knows it wasn’t.
and he tries, of course he tries to give you the same eagerness, but you look so fucking sexy perched on his lap, helping him get the other girl’s shirt off and he wishes it was your hands on him instead.
“Satoru” you breathe out his name, —a slight warning for him not to let the girl out after he spent the last minutes making out with you—, and he looks at you like you’re water in a desert, lips red and puffy from the intense kissing. with a brief nod he turns to her, pressing kisses on her chest and up her throat, licking on the skin before hesitantly kissing her lips, from your position on your sides, you could see Satoru’s eyes open, slightly turning sideways to look at you again.
you chuckle softly, finding his behavior slightly adorable, like a puppy looking for approval. carefully you approach him, deciding to press kisses on his neck at the same time Satoru groans and the girl whines, his eyes fluttering close at the intoxicating sensation of your lips, making him messily stain the front of his boxers with precum.
a couple of minutes pass until you’re all naked, Satoru having placed you next to her as you gently kiss, and in any other situation, he could have found the sight incredibly hot, but he can’t ignore the pang of jealousy in his chest. why aren’t you kissing him?
“you taste so good” the girl smirks looking at you, and Satoru’s brow twitches, she licks her lips seductively, almost fully ignoring the man’s presence currently kneeling between your bodies.
“you too” you speak with your face burning, and your best friend can’t take it anymore, leaning down to kiss you himself, almost fucking your mouth with his tongue; from behind the messy sound of your lips clashing you hear a whimper, looking from the corner of your eyes how she touched herself at the sight, biting her lip for a fleeting second before Satoru is tilting your jaw roughly, forcing you to focus in him.
Satoru’s hand is quick to find her dripping cunt, plunging a finger that quickly turns into two to keep her busy, moaning as if it’s the best thing that has ever happened to her, all to make you spread your pretty thighs and allow the dripping head of his cock to press against your pussy, if he kept on just kissing you, he would have cum all over your belly.
“so good, baby” he groans, eyes darkened and dilated pupils looking down at you as his cock stretches you out, you could see the way his breath hitched in his throat with each inch engulfed in your warm cunt; it’s a mess of lewd noises, from the girl’s moaning to your whines and Satoru’s grunts as he fucked you both, occasionally she raises up, attempting to caress his naked body towering over yours, but your best friend only slides his fingers deeper and harder inside her pussy, making her whine and lean down on the bed again, giving him enough space to suck on your tongue and swallow your moans that are only meant for him.
you can’t help and feel dizzy at the way Satoru looks and fucks at you, grinding his hips down so perfectly you’re sobbing in pleasure, and, for a moment, you’re left speechless when he forces your knees up his shoulders, fucking you so deep you couldn’t help and cry out, digging your nails on his back. that’s all Satoru needs.
a whimper of protest is heard, you are trying to raise your head but he’s quicker, cleaning his hand off her slick in the sheets before using both thumbs to press down your forehead, keeping you pinned as his body engulfed you fully, forcing you in a mating press with his mouth tasting your screams and your pussy swallowing the whole girth of him down the base, messily creating a sound where his hips roughly smacked against your ass.
you wondered if he always fucked like that, but the stimulation on your clit rubbing on his pelvis, g-spot tortured by the fat tip of his cock and nipples continuously rubbing against his hard chest made you forget about the rest.
“fuck, sweetheart” Satoru lets out a broken moan, half surprised half as if he was in pain at the sight of your almost rolled back eyes, mouth hanging open in desperate cries at the same time your pussy fluttered wildly. “you’ll make me cum so hard, this pussy was made just for me” he groans, not stopping his thrusts even if you gasp and cream his cock, he’s almost drunk, his own eyes threatening to roll back at the flutter of your cunt, begging for his cum.
a few more thrusts and he’s cumming deep into your pussy, with a sharp groan that makes you shudder. “’Toru... where is...?” you attempt to ask, but Satoru couldn’t care less, leaning down to kiss you without replying, but instead humping your pussy slightly, testing the waters if you’re ready for another orgasm.
“dunno” he swallows, uninterested, licking down the path of your throat and jaw until his nibbling on your collarbone, “can I fuck you again?” he begs, and there are the puppy eyes Satoru always gives you when he wants something, and how can you refuse when your best friend is so cute.
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mooshywrites · 1 month
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Their secret turn-ons
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Astarion -
~ Praise ~
You run your fingers through Astarion’s silvery white hair, savoring the softness of each curl as your lips met in a passionate kiss. His hand traced patterns along your skin, sending shivers of desire down your spine.
“You’re so beautiful,” you murmur, pulling back for a moment.
Astarion’s eyes, a mesmerizing shade of crimson in the firelight, gleamed with amusement as he met your gaze. The flickering flames dancing through the room illuminated his flawless features, accentuating the sharp lines of his jaw and the subtle curve of his lips.
“Flattery will get you everywhere, darling,” he chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver of anticipation through you. “I must admit, I quite like being praised.”
“Oh?” you purred, pressing a slight kiss against his jaw.
“I’m afraid it might even be my undoing.” Astarion’s breath hitched at your touch, a mixture of desire and surprise. His usual confident demeanor faltered for a moment, replaced by a subtle vulnerability that that only added to his charm. You could feel the tension in his body as you continued to shower him with words of of adoration, each compliment causing a visible reaction in him. Each word causing him to grow harder under you.
The way his skin flushed under your fingertips, the way his breath quickened at the sound of your voice- it was clear that he was not accustomed to being showered with this amount of genuine praise. And yet, there was something undeniably alluring about the way he responded to it, as if each word ignited a fire within him that he struggled to contain.
As you leaned in closer, your lips grazing the sensitive skin of his neck, you felt him tremble beneath you. His hands reached out, seeking purchase on your waist as he pulled you even closer, unable to resist the magnetic pull between you any longer. And in that moment, as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his defenses crumbling before your eyes, you knew that you had uncovered a side of Astarion that few had ever seen.
With a playful grin, he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips, his eyes sparking with mischief. “Well, it seems you’ve uncovered my weakness, after all,” he chuckled, his voice tinged with affection.
“At least my undoing will be pleasurable.”
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Halsin -
~ Possessiveness ~
With a sharp pang of jealousy slicing through your chest, you watched as the stranger flirted shamelessly with Halsin, their words dripping like honey from a comb. Every chuckle exchanged between them felt like a knife, igniting a fiery possessiveness within you that you struggled to contain.
As the evening wore on, your gaze kept drifting back to them, unable to shake off the unease that coiled in the pic of my stomach. Just when you thought you couldn’t bear it any longer, Halsin caught my eye.
The Druid made his way towards you, his brow furrowed in concern as he noticed the turmoil swirling in your eyes.
“Are you alright, my heart? You seem… distressed.”
A rush of conflicting emotions crashed over you - the burning jealousy, the fear of losing you to this charming stranger, and the undeniable longing for Halsin’s attention to be solely yours. Taking a deep breath, you finally found the courage to speak, your voice barely above a whisper.
“I… I’m feeling possessive,” you admitted, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment
Halsin’s eyes softened with understanding, his hand cupping your face tenderly. “You have nothing to worry about. You hold my heart in your hands.”
Before you could reply, a surge of fierce determination overtook you. In a bold move, you pulled Halsin close and captured his lips in a fiery kiss, a silent flaunting of your love in front of the bewildered stranger.
Halsin pulled back after a moment, his breathing heavier and eyes a shade darker than they were before. Without a word, his gaze pierced yours, a hunger igniting in his eyes that mirrored the fervor burning within you. His lips curled into a mischievous smile, a silent challenge passing between you.
With a daring glint in your eye, you tugged at his hand, leading him away from the curious onlookers towards a secluded alcove hidden behind cascading vines.
As soon as you were enveloped in privacy, Halsin wasted no time in pressing you against the cool stone wall, his breath hot on your skin. “So possessive, my heart,” he murmured huskily, his hands roaming over your body with familiarity and desire.
“Mine.” You growled, claiming him in a kiss once more.
His chuckle vibrated against your lips. A low and enticing sound that sent shivers down your spine. You felt his hardening member press flush against your stomach, his touch tightening around you.
“Be careful with the words you say, my heart. I may not be able to control myself.”
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Gale -
~ Orgasm Denial ~
You watched as Gale’s body arched in pleasure, his mind consumed the sensation of ecstasy. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only you, him, and his cries of desperation as he thrust into your mouth. Every touch, every swirl of your tongue sent waves of desire through him, building towards an inevitable climax,
But just as Gale felt himself teetering on the edge of release, you abruptly pulled away, leaving him gasping for air. You watched as he sat up quickly, confusion and frustration evident on his face.
“Why did you stop,” he panted, his voice edging into a whine.
You smirked slightly, a devious glint in your eyes. “Because,” you began, your voice low and sultry, “I wanted to see how much you really wanted it.”
Gale’s eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, he hesitated, as if contemplating his next move. His desire seemed to rage within him, but you stayed still, gazing up at him.
Underneath his annoyance, you saw the undeniable truth-
He enjoyed this.
“You can try to deny it, Gale,” you said, your words a seductive purr. “But you’re melting in my hands.”
With those words, you leaned forward, allowing your lips to brush against the fender skin of his hip, sending shivers down his spine. Your hands gently traced the contours of his body, taking your time in teasing the man. His hips shifted desperately, the feel of your touch driving him wild with need.
“Please, no more,” he begged, his voice hoarse with desire.
Gently, you tilted your head to me with his gaze again, your eyes sparkling. “Oh, but my sweet Gale,“ you whispered, letting your voice linger on his name like a caress. “I think you’re going to love this”
Your lips met his erection, your warm breath sending shivers down his spine. Gale’s hands found their way to your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he gasped out your name.
As you sank down, your mouth enveloping him, he moaned, his hips bucking upward involuntarily. You held him steady with one hand, your other hand continuing to stroke him, the rhythm in sync with the movements of your head.
Gale’s body trembled, his breaths, becoming ragged, the sound of pleasure filling the air. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the need for release overwhelming him.
Then, at the height of his pleasure, you knew you had to give him what he needed. Your mouth devoured him, your hand pumping harder and faster. Gale arched his back, his hips bucking, his body shook, and then, with a massive release, he cried out your name, his climax overwhelming him.
You continued to work him, milking every last drop, until finally, he collapsed, spent. Then, with a contented sigh, he gave you a weak smile.
“I wouldn’t mind doing something like that again.”
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Wyll -
~ Being in public ~
You and Wyll wandered into a dimly lit trinket shop, the kind that smelled of old dust and incense. The shelves were crammed full of curiosities, ornate music boxes that played haunted melodies, delicate glass orbs that held swirling liquid, and intricately carved wooden figurines. Your eyes were drawn to a beautiful silver bracelet adorned with tiny sapphires that sparkled in the dim light.
As you reached out to touch the bracelet, Wyll’s warm breath tickled your ear.
“I like it when you wear silver,” he murmured, his voice low. You could feel his chest pressed against your back, his heart beating in time with yours. He leaned in closer, his lips grazing your neck and erupting your skin in goosebumps.
You shivered slightly under Wyll’s touch, the sensation sending a wave of tingling pleasure down your spine. The air in the seemed to crackle with a new energy, the other patrons oblivious to the tension between the two of you.
A soft gasp escaped your lips as Wyll’s hands found their way to your waist, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your skin. Your pulse quickened as he turned you around to face him, his eyes dark with an intensity that made your knees weaken.
“You tease me far too much,” you chided, though the playful glint in your eyes betrayed the desire that burned within you. “Someone is bound to hear.”
Wyll only smiled, a smirk that sent a thrill through you. “I can’t help myself when you look so irresistible,” he whispered huskily, his voice sending heat straight to your chest.
Before you could respond, his lips captured yours in a searing kiss that left you breathless and wanting more.
“Careful, it would be a shame if someone heard those little moans you’re keeping from me,” he teased against your lips.
You pulled away from the kiss, your heart pounding in your breath coming in short gasps. “I think we should probably find a more private place,” you managed to say, your voice shaking but determined.
Wyll, ever the gentleman, wrapped an arm around your waist and gently led you through the crowded shop, weaving between the curious trinkets and inquisitive shoppers.
“If you insist, though I wouldn’t have minded giving everyone a show.”
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iiwontgiveuponmilkk · 6 months
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I Hate You. | F.W.
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summary: They had been friends since the moment they met, but what happens when she falls in love with him and he seems to blind to notice?
pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader
word count: 5718
warning(s): ends in smut
notes: I have not posted in quite some time, nor have I wrote anything in a long time. I tried to avoid the use of y/n. Fred calls her 'little red' or 'red' ocassionally, this is explained in the writing.
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Six years of friendship. Six years of falling for Fred Weasley, really. If she were to be honest with herself, she knew she loved him two years ago. It was just easier to ignore as a 15 year old girl. She initially tried to write it off as just feeling that way because they were so close already, but she knew that wasn’t true. She was just as close with his twin brother, George, and she wasn’t in love with him. Fred was different. They knew each other on a different level. They could be overly affectionate with each other. When she saw him at the platform this year, she ran to him and jumped into his arms and stayed there despite George whining that he hadn’t seen her in just as long. On the train ride, she fell asleep with her head in his lap whilst he and George started scheming their first prank of the school year. He would hush George any time she would start to stir, then gently play with her hair until she settled again. She had fallen asleep on George’s shoulder once, and swore to never do it again. Whilst he was also one of her best friends, he did not hold the same kind of soft spot for her as his twin did. He had used a spell to turn her hair bright green. She was livid when she realised. Poor George was afraid to turn his back to her for the next four months. She had waited six months for her revenge, perfecting the same colour changing spell, but turning all of his clothes pink. 
Now at 17, her feelings were harder to hide. The pangs of jealousy at every Gryffindor party after a quidditch match when girls would shamelessly flirt with him. And he seemed to love it. Tonight was another one of those nights. Gryffindor had destroyed Slytherin on the quidditch pitch and were, of course, throwing their usual celebration. She sat next to George and Angelina on the couch, her eyes following Fred. Her gaze only left him as Julie came up to him and was heavily laying on the charm. She felt the jealousy bubbling in her like a failed potion about to go horribly wrong. She felt George shift and wrap an arm around her shoulder, giving her a slight squeeze. “Love, why don’t you talk to him?” Angelina asked, reaching over George to squeeze her hand. Her gaze moved from her knees to her two friends, a heavy sigh leaving her lips. “I couldn’t possibly talk to him about this, Ang. I’d tell him everything and feel like an absolute git after.” She admitted, letting out another huff. George shook his head, opening his mouth to speak but quickly closing it. Ever since the start of the year, she had grown closer to George and his girlfriend, Angelina. Unfortunately, closer than she was with Fred. They were definitely still close, but something was different between them this year. And it wasn’t that she was head over heels in love with him. It was him that was keeping a distance between the two of them. Every year, she sat with them at the Gryffindor table. Her Ravenclaw robes made her stick out like a sore thumb in the sea of red, but Fred and George were her best friends. In fact, she only ever sat at her own houses’ table a handful of times. The sorting ceremony, the last day, and that couple of months last year when Fred had a girlfriend who absolutely hated her. She had friends in Ravenclaw, but she wasn’t as close to anyone as she was with Fred. George was a close second, but her and Fred always just clicked. They clicked from the first train ride to Hogwarts they ever had. They were nearly inseparable. If Fred wasn’t with George, he was with her, or they were all together. She spent a few weeks with the Weasley’s every summer. Molly was like her second mother at this point. She loved spending time with all of them. She loved answering all of Arthur’s questions about the muggle world. She loved hanging out with Ginny, the only other girl around her age in the Weasley household. It was usually the highlight of her summer.
A loud cheering pulled her attention away from her two friends as they all turned to the source of the noise. It felt like her heart shattered into dust. Don’t cry. Do not cry. Not here. “I-, I have to go.” She quickly stammered, slipping away from her friends and blinking back tears. There he was. Fingers tangled in Julie’s hair, kissing her passionately. She tried to keep her head down as she pushed towards the door. She knew better, but she looked up anyway. Another stab to the heart. Her tear-filled gaze met the eyes of Fred Weasley. Fred Weasley, best friend, heartbreaker. She tore her gaze from his and moved as quickly as she could without running. She pushed out of the door, finally letting a tear fall as the door shut behind her. She could’ve swore she heard George yelling at his twin as she stepped out, but she could be wrong. She stood in the hall for a moment, unsure of what to do. Her feet were moving before she registered that she was moving. She knew Fred, she knew he would try to come after her. He was her best friend, after all. Part of her wished he would push through the door, catch up to her and wrap her in his arms. The other part of her, the hurt, told her to stop hoping he would feel the same way. Though, he would ask George what happened first, which bought her some time, yet not enough to get to her common room before he caught up with her. Even if she ran, he could easily catch up to her. Before she knew it, she was standing in the middle of the hall, watching the door to the room of requirements take shape. She heard him calling her name, and heard his footsteps. She didn’t want him to see her like this, not right now. Not when it was so fresh. She shouldn’t be crying. They were only friends, she was the one hopelessly in love with him. She reached for the doorknob, sliding into the room and quickly shutting the door behind her. Merlin, please let the door disappear before he gets down here. She slid down the wall next to the door. How absolutely foolish could she be? Her and Fred would never happen. It was clear at this point. She was terrified that if she told him how she felt, it would ruin their friendship. Not only would she be heartbroken, but she would lose her best friend too. 
She had no idea how long she sat there for. Maybe an hour? Maybe two? It took nearly another hour before she gathered the courage to leave. Even if he had seen her, she doubted he would’ve waited for her. Maybe two years ago, but not now. Not with this weird distance between them. Definitely not after close to three hours of her hiding. She could still confidently say that Fred was her best friend, but it was different. It wasn’t like before. They weren’t joined at the hip anymore. This summer made that clear. She spent most of her time with Ginny and Molly. The few times they had spent together went from comfortable and playful to awkward. There were moments when it felt like he may also feel the same way about her, but he always seemed to pull away a little more after. She could’ve sworn he was going to kiss her one night, her heart felt like it was beating in her throat. But he just cleared his throat and awkwardly scratched the back of his head as he took a step back from her. Maybe she should’ve just kissed him then, and let whatever would happen just happen. At least she would’ve known how he felt. She might have lost her best friend, but she wouldn’t constantly feel this hurt and jealousy. 
 She pressed on the wall, waiting for the door to appear to make her exit. She slowly pushed the door open, only then realising she should have left from the other side of the room. There he was. That beautiful, heartbreaking idiot. His head leaned back against the wall, mouth slightly open as he slept. She realised she really had been in there for much longer than she thought and it was a miracle Fred hadn’t been found by Filch or Mrs. Norris. She kneeled in front of him, resting her hands on his knees. “Freddie.” She whispered lightly, pushing against his knees to hopefully wake him, but she knew he could sleep through the whole castle crumbling to the ground. “Freddie!” She whisper-yelled, shaking him harder, earning a groan from him. “Fred Gideon Weasley, get up before Filch comes and kills us both!” She whispered harshly, causing Fred to finally open his eyes. His sleepy gaze quickly turned to a soft look when he took her in. She knew her eyes had to be slightly puffy and her nose was red. It always turned red after she cried, and she hated it. She also hated that Fred always knew when she was upset or had been crying, and he always knew exactly how to make her feel better. Whether she needed a hug, or to be held, or if he needed to go to ridiculous measures just to make her laugh. Fred reached out and pulled her to him, stretching his legs out so she was in his lap. She fell forward against him as he hugged her. She let her head rest against his chest, feeling tears threaten to fill her eyes again. “C’mon little red.” He whispered, moving to get up. “I don’t have red hair.” She mumbled, she didn’t know where the nickname had come from. Fred had just started calling her it one day. The only answer for why she ever got was that she was now an honorary Weasley and she was tiny. It used to annoy her to no end, which is probably why it stuck. Fred loved getting reactions out of her, because even if something annoyed her when it came to him, she secretly loved it. It was like he knew it.
She walked next to him, keeping her head down. She watched her feet as she walked. She wasn’t paying attention, she just let him lead the way. She figured they would go to his dorm. It was the closest and safest bet. The chances of not getting caught on the way to her common room were slim to none. It was way too late to even consider being out of the common room, everyone was most likely asleep by now. She knew they were entering the Gryffindor common room. The Fat Lady had long ago stopped putting up a fight about her being snuck into the common room after hours. It happened so often that it wasn’t worth it. She didn’t bother to look up, just followed Fred to the stairs. The floor was a mess and she was afraid to look up. She didn’t want to relive her most recent memory in this room. She followed Fred into his dorm, noting that it was empty. He shared a room with George and Oliver Wood. Neither of the other two boys were here. She stood there silently as Fred moved around. He pulled out a jumper and handed it to her, turning around for her to change. The normalcy of this pained her. She knew Fred had seen her almost completely naked. He had stayed with her when she was sick last year. She had a fever that wouldn’t break and she had stripped out of her shirt and pyjama shorts in her sleep- with Fred sharing the same bed. She pulled the jumper over her head before pulling her jeans off. The jumper hung down to her knees, Fred was nearly a foot taller than her, if not more. She didn’t say anything as she climbed into his bed, only huffing as she rolled over to face away from him. 
She felt his weight as he slid into his bed, turning to face her back. “George told me what happened. She kissed me, and I didn’t…” He whispered so quietly she could barely hear him. Her whole body seemed to tense as she registered what he said. Of course George told him. Bloody hell. She felt Fred’s hand brush over her arm. He grabbed her shoulder, gently trying to turn her to him. She fought him on it, but it was no use. He was stronger than she was, no matter how determined she was to keep her back to him. “You know you can tell me anything. Hell, you’re my best friend.” Fred whispered, his eyes on her face. She stared at the ceiling, feeling tears well in her eyes again. “That’s the problem, Freddie. I’m your best friend.” Her whisper was soft, not trusting herself to speak without starting to cry again. “And I hate it.” She finished, closing her eyes tightly to press the tears back. She could still feel his eyes on her, but she knew she couldn’t look at him. She knew she would break. She knew he would hold her until she either calmed down or fell asleep. Merlin’s beard, they were more than just friends. Friends don’t do this. Friends don’t share a bed. Friends don’t sleep in nothing but the others jumper and their underwear and cuddle. Friends don’t wake up wrapped in each other's arms. Friends don’t cling to each other the way they usually do. She loved George like a brother, he was one of her closest friends. Her and George are not friends like she and Fred are. She felt a tear squeeze its way from her eye. She let out a shaky sigh as she felt Fred brush it away with his thumb. He pulled her into him and she hated him for it. She hated him at that moment. She hated that he made her hurt, but he was the only one that could make her feel better. A sob escaped her lips as the tears began to fall. “I hate you. I hate that you’re so damn oblivious to me. All I am is your best friend and I’ve been in love with you for two years, you idiot.” She cried into his chest. He cradled her head with one arm and pulled her closer with the other, holding her there as she cried. “I’m sorry, Red, I-i didn’t know.” He held her tighter, placing a kiss on the top of her head. His fingers drew circles on her back as her cries slowly stopped. He hadn’t realised she had fallen asleep until her grip on his shirt slowly loosened.
She woke up pressed to Fred’s chest and her legs tangled in his. His fingers were drawing slow shapes on her side. God she was still so hurt. The image of him kissing Julie replaying in her head. She went to pull away from him, only to be pulled against him tighter. “Let me go.” She mumbled, pushing against him again. “No can do, doll.” He mumbled back. “I still hate you.” She bit back, trying her best to ignore the comfort she felt being pressed against. “You don’t mean that.” His voice was gentle. He was used to her little fits. She had told him multiple times over the years that she hated him. The first time when he accidentally broke her brand new quill that her father had sent her as a gift when she found a new hobby of writing. It was their second year. He had saved up anything he could get until Christmas that year to buy her the same one. She had cried then too, but those were happy tears. She had told him she hated him the day he told her that he couldn’t come see her that summer, that was year three. Then she wrote to his mother and asked if she could come there to see him and George. Of course, Molly said yes. She was so delighted to finally meet the twin’s best friend. She was glad they finally had someone to level out their antics, but that didn’t last long. They were always up to something. She had told him three times in year four that she hated him. Once was when he had her pinned down and was mercilessly tickling her. She gasped it out between laughs. She even used his full name. He couldn’t help but smile, only to stop tickling when she rushed out that she was going to pee her pants if he didn’t stop. But he kept jumping at her, pretending he was going to tickle her again. The second time was when he was dating Hannah. They had gotten into a fight, screaming at each other. She was sad because she felt like she was losing Fred as a friend because Hannah hated her. And he called her bitter and jealous that she had never had a boyfriend. It was then that she told him she hated him. He could see the hurt in her eyes. That was the first time it truly hurt when she said she hated him. It felt like she meant it that time. The third time was towards the end of the year. They had made up and were thicker than thieves once again. She had conned him into going to the library to study. He was messing around the whole time and trying to make her laugh. He took it a little too far, accidentally hitting her inkwell. It shot across the table, they both moved to catch it and they both missed. It had spilled all over her skirt. She said she hated him then and told him he was lucky he was her best friend, otherwise he’d have to buy her a new skirt. Last year, year five, there were odd bits of distance between them, but when he thought about it, they weren’t odd. They were distant every time he had a girlfriend or was chasing after some girl. He had been slightly jealous of George since last year. She seemed to latch on to him, but it all made sense. She was distancing herself to protect herself and George was there for her, probably to tell her that Fred was an idiot and he’d come around one day. 
“Look at me.” He said as he rolled on to his side, sliding her off his chest. She stared at his chest, not meeting his gaze. “I am.” She mumbled and he had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Her full name left his lips as he gently pushed her chin up to force her to look at him, but she kept her eyes trained on his chest. “I swear, you are so stubborn that I wonder how you weren't sorted into Gryffindor.” She looked up at him, eyes narrowed. “What Fred? What do you want? I don’t care if she kissed you. You didn’t have to kiss her back.” She bit out. He had to hide his smirk. If she wasn’t so upset with him, he knew she would’ve rolled her eyes and made a ridiculous comment on how she was surprised he wasn’t sorted into Slytherin. He suddenly missed her jests, wishing he could rewind to before the party. George had told him that someone they knew was pining after him. He just didn’t think it would be his best friend. But then again, how could it not be? They spent most of their time together, either alone or with George. If he wasn’t with George, he was with her. People often commented on them acting like a couple. Fred would walk her to class, arm slung around her shoulder. “I’m an idiot-” He started, only to be cut off by her. “I know you are. You’re the biggest idiot I know.” She tried to hold her glare, fighting a small smile. “C’mon, little red, let me finish.” He raised his brow as she opened her mouth to talk then closed it. She let out a sigh, waiting for him to continue. “You say I’m the biggest idiot you know, which may be true. But I’m the most handsome idiot you know.” He paused as a small smile tugged at her lips. “I’m an idiot, I’m sorry. You could’ve just told me. Could’ve said ‘hey, you big, handsome, idiot, I love you’.” He paused again, reaching up and tucking her hair behind her ear. “I would’ve said, ‘hey, little red, I love you too’.”
“Stop calling me that.” she mumbled and Fred let out an exasperated noise. He noticed the small smile playing on her lips. “I still hate you, at least for the next five minutes.” Her voice was much softer this time. “You’re so stubborn.” he mumbled, smiling when he felt her fingers grasp his shirt. “And you’re an idiot for not kissing me.” She mumbled, her gaze still locked with his. He slowly leaned in, his nose brushing hers as her eyes fluttered shut. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.” She whispered as he leaned in. Her lips just barely brushing his as she spoke. He paused for a moment. He knew she had never dated anyone, but he didn’t think she had never kissed anyone before. He closed the gap, gently kissing her. The kiss was slow and soft, until she took him by surprise when she nipped his bottom lip. He groaned, pulling her flush against him as he deepened the kiss. “Never kissed anyone before, unbelievable.” He mumbled against her lips. She pulled on his shirt in a futile attempt to get closer than they already were. It was when she slid her hand up her chest and around his shoulder up to his hair that the door to his dorm opened. He reluctantly broke the kiss, looking up to see George standing in the doorway. “Well, I was coming to tell you that no one has seen our little friend here since last night, but I see you’re snogging her.” George grins. You roll over at his comment, turning to look at him. George winks at you and then turns his attention back to Fred. “I am now obligated to help her hide your body, doesn’t matter that you’re my brother.” George states, causing her to laugh.
“George, leave. Please.” Fred groans. “I think he should stay. This is fun. Hey, Georgie, isn’t Fred the biggest idiot you know?” She asks, smiling sweetly at Fred. “That’s likely!”
After George had left, they spent the entire morning in bed. Fred stealing kisses from her when she wasn’t dozing back off. “Freddie?” She whispered, curled into his side, her head laying on his chest. He hummed an acknowledgement. “Did you mean it?” She asked, her fingers grasping his shirt again. A small chuckle came from him as he squeezed her to him. “I love you, I have for some time. You’re also my best friend and I didn’t want to lose you.” He said, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “I love you, you big, handsome idiot.” She said as she lifted her head to look at him. “Don’t think I won’t ask George to help hide your body.” She grinned as he laughed. 
The rest of the year seemed to breeze by. Two months of Fred pulling her into random broom closets between classes and sneaking into the room of requirements before curfew. Countless nights spent in there, hidden away among the mess. Before she knew it, everyone was packing and getting ready to leave for the summer. 
“Fred, I’m too tired, carry me.” She whined as he gently woke her when the train finally stopped at the station. He let out a sigh as George laughed at him, shaking his head. She was going to the Weasley’s for the summer as her parents were away until November. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, looking up at Fred. “After we get off the train, then I’ll think about it.” He reached a hand out to her, helping her up. The journey to the Weasley’s was rather quick. They travelled through the floo system. She dramatically collapsed into Fred’s arms when they got back. “So tired.” she mumbled. “You’re going to kill me.” He laughed, picking her up. This wasn’t entirely unusual for the two of them. Everyone was used to Fred and her clinging to each other. Molly would often give Fred a knowing look when she would walk into the den, finding her sleeping with her head in his lap or curled up against him. Molly also knew that, most nights, if she were to peek into Fred’s room, she would find the two of them together. She often heard them talking in loud whispers and trying to hide their laughter in the middle of the night. It didn’t dawn on her that only a handful of them knew they were together, not until George opened his mouth. “Hey ma, did you know that Freddie has a girlfriend?” A groan left Fred as he stared his twin down. She buried her face in his chest, trying to ignore the slew of reactions from the older Weasleys. Molly was utterly delighted, commenting on how she was surprised that it took this long.
The days seemed to fly by spending them in the Weasley household. Lots of stolen kisses and sneaking around. It wasn't until mid-July that her and Fred were alone in the house together. Everyone had gone out for one reason or another and it was just the two of them. They spent the morning in Fred’s bed, tangled together. She was constantly falling back asleep and Fred was just content to hold her. It wasn’t until she was the one to lean up and kiss him that the day seemed to take a slight turn. They had shared a bed countless times, kissing had almost turned into more countless times as well. But this kiss was needy and built a fire in the both of them. She started the kiss. It was soft, loving at first. Then she nipped his bottom lip and a groan left his lips. His fingers dug into her hips, the feeling giving her the courage she needed in the moment. She moved to straddle him. His hand pushed up the jumper she stole from him, revealing her bare thighs. She really would be the death of him. She never seemed to wear pants. Just his shirt and a pair of panties, she was a constant tease seemingly unknowing to the fact. The kiss was still innocent enough, until she ground her hips down on his. The almost whiny moan that left her lips had him flipping them over. His lips trailed down her neck, nipping and sucking at the skin, most likely leaving marks in his wake. The sounds that left her lips were driving him wild. “You’re killing me.” He mumbled against her neck. His hands slid around her body. He gripped her hips before sliding a hand up her shirt. His fingers pinched and rolled her nipple, a lewd moan leaving her lips. 
“Freddie, please.” She whined, pushing her hips up against his for any sort of friction. She tugged at his shirt, pulling it up until he reached up to pull it over his head. He leaned down, capturing her lips with his. She deepened the kiss, swiping her tongue against his bottom lip. He still found it hard to believe she had never kissed anyone before him. Not when she kissed him like this. She continued to grind her hips against his, moaning into the kiss. Her hands slid down his chest, her fingers hooking under the waistband of his pyjamas pants. She started to push them down when Fred broke this. “Baby-” He started only to be cut off by her leaning up and kissing him again. He knew she was virgin, while he may not be, he didn’t want her to feel like she had to do this. He was content just being with her. “Freddie, please. I want you. I-,” She paused, looking up to meet his eyes. “I want you to be my first.” Her breathy proclamation almost made him groan, but it was her reaching down and palming him through his pants that made a groan fall from his lips. Fred reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it off and tossing it on the floor. His eyes dragged over her body. She was perfect. “So pretty, baby.” He groaned, she would’ve thought he was talking to himself until his eyes met hers. His hands slid from her hips and over her stomach before he leaned down, kissing down her neck to her navel. It was then that her nerves started to build up. His lips pressed to her hip as he looked up at her. “If you want to stop, we will. At any point, baby.” He nipped at her hip as he pulled her panties down. She felt her cheeks flush, suddenly feeling exposed. Fred’s hands sliding up her legs seemed to calm her nerves. He pressed a kiss to her knee first, then trailed kisses down her inner thigh. It was the kiss that he placed closest to her sex that had the first moan falling from her lips. She gasped when she felt his tongue against her clit. He slowly added more pressure as he worked her clit. She didn't know how much more she could take, every pass of his tongue on her was overwhelming. Her hips bucked into his face. She was sure if she wasn’t so consumed by the building warmth in her abdomen that she would have been embarrassed. His name fell from her lips as he slowly worked a finger into her. His pace was painfully slow but every move made her feel like he already knew her body better than she ever could. It wasn’t until he worked a second finger into her and sucked her clit between his lips that she felt like she was falling apart. His name left her lips in succession until all she could do was moan. She moved her hips against his fingers, riding out her orgasm. 
“Please, Freddie, I need you inside of me.” She let out a breathy whine. This girl would really be the death of him. He turned his head, leaving a hickey on the inside of her thigh. His lips were on hers in an instant. When she reached to push his pants down, this time he let her. He deepened the kiss, running his tongue along her bottom lip. He slipped his tongue against hers, taking his time kissing her. He ground into her, sliding his dick through her folds. He teased her with his tip before gently pushing into her. She gasped into his mouth, her body tensing at the intrusion. “Relax, baby, okay?” He whispered, kissing her jaw. He didn’t move his hips, but his hand snaked between them. His thumb pressed against her clit, causing another gasp to leave her lips. He continued to toy with her clit as she looked up at him. The look in her eyes as a quiet moan fell from her lips had his resolve wavering. It was when the next breathy moan fell from her lips that she took him by surprise. She pushed her hips up, taking more of him in. His ministrations continued as he tried to ease any of her discomfort with pleasure. She rolled her hips into his, fucking herself like she had done on his fingers. Fred moved his other hand to her hip, holding her hips in place. It was then that he pushed into her until she took all of him in. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, her nose, then her lips. The kiss was slow, gentle as he gave her time to adjust. She broke the kiss, brushing her nose against his. “Freddie.” His name left her lips in a breathy moan as she pushed against him. His thrusts were shallow at first, his forehead resting against hers. They moved slowly together, quiet moans falling from her lips. His name fell from her lips as he thrusted into her harder, faster. Her hands ran up his back, her nails digging into his skin as she gripped his shoulders. “O-oh, Freddie.” She gasped, tilting her head up to press her lips to his. She could feel her orgasm building again when he slid a hand between them, pressing his thumb to her clit. Fred could feel himself getting close to the edge. 
“Fuck, baby, cum for me.” He groaned against her skin. His thumb pressed into her clit harder, circling until she threw her head back. His name fell from her lips, her nails digging into his back. The feeling of her walls clenching and spasming around him as she came sent him over the edge. Her name fell from his lips as he pressed his forehead to hers. “I love you, Freddie.” Her voice was a whisper. She leaned up to steal a quick kiss from his lips before he could speak. “I love you.” He mumbled between kisses. 
They spent the next few hours tangled in each other, whispering sweet nothings, and her dozing off a few times. Fred woke her when he heard the first noises in the den below. Fred scrambled to find his clothes as she waltzed around his room to find hers. She pulled on a pair of leggings and his jumper. Her fingers slid across his sides as he pulled his shirt on. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself against him. His arms snaked around her, placing a kiss on the top of her head.
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fvsm4x · 2 months
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❝﹝ ᝰ 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 part 4 ★ ˙ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི.ᐟ﹞
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Your boyfriend, who you loved more than anything, who was your will to live, broke up with you.
。𝐂.𝐖: ex-boyfriend! Gojo satoru x depressed! female reader , sexual assault , attempted rape , dark themes.
。𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4.2k+
。𝐀/𝐍: I lied to y‘all, part 5 idk when
taglist: @3zae-zae3 @sexeyess @silkija @dancinhhillary @musicarose @vanevafu @labelt-san @cl16void @feellaaya @animechick555 @nanmiik @ichikanu @cupidszvlvr @pinksaiyans @phoenix666stuff @coffeeluvr96 @alpha-mommy69 @isaacdaholi @xx-rfg-xx @certainduckanchor @ambalikadubeyy-blog @r0ckst4rjk @xxemmarldxx x @starrylibras s @lady-cryptstone @sparklydhokla @hoeforchoso @sweetlilhoshi @getou0309 @n8mareee @integers @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @skittleabyss @softnorth @maliakealoha @avalordream @dazaisfavgf @thebacksack @darkphoenix3432 @mwtsxri @nothisispatrick300 @andioopsworld @sup-hoes-its-me @yihona-san06 @s3r-en-d1p-ity @mandysfanfics @adanfore @rainydayssmokescreens @luvvmae @aquamarine001 @chilichopsticks @tinyjeo @adoretaylor @girlsvvish @misfits1a
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5
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As you stepped out into the night, the cool breeze brushed against your face, signaling the arrival of darkness and a slight chill in the air. Seeking warmth, you slipped your hands into the pockets of your jacket and began to walk away from your apartment.
The night sky stretched above you, a vast expanse of inky blackness punctuated by the shimmering glow of yellow and white stars. The trees swayed and danced in the cold wind, playfully pushing strands of hair away from your face.
The biting cold weather caused your lips to tremble slightly, and your eyes threatened to release the tears you had been holding back since you were inside your apartment. The wind, instead of offering solace, seemed to intensify your emotions, pushing you closer to the brink of tears.
Why were you crying? Was it because Geto had found someone else? Someone who was more beautiful than you? But deep down, you knew that you didn't have romantic feelings for him. So why did you feel this pang of jealousy? Perhaps it was because he seemed so happy, while you were not.
They appeared to be blissfully happy together, almost too happy. Yes, there was no denying it - you were undeniably jealous. You couldn't help but imagine yourself in their shoes, with Gojo by your side, sharing moments of happiness, embracing each other with radiant smiles and blushing cheeks.
But that reality was no longer possible. Gojo had made it clear that he didn't want you. He had found someone else to shower with his affection. You had hoped to move on, to forget about your feelings for Gojo and find solace in someone like Geto - someone kind, gentle, and reliable, who would never hurt you or betray your trust like Gojo might.
But try as you might, you couldn't bring yourself to love Geto the way you loved Gojo. Gojo still held your heart in his hands, even though you wished he didn't. Why didn't you deserve to be happy? What had you done to deserve this treatment from Gojo? These questions echoed in your mind, leaving you feeling lost and hurt.
The desire for happiness consumed your thoughts, leaving you questioning why it seemed so elusive. It felt as though life had dealt you a cruel hand, and you couldn't help but wonder if you had done something to deserve this constant ache in your heart.
The decision to let Geto live with you in the apartment that Gojo had gifted you now seemed like a double-edged sword. On one hand, it had provided you with a sense of security and companionship during a time when you had nothing and no one. But now, with Geto having found a girlfriend, their presence together in the apartment served as a constant reminder of the past, of the moments you had shared with Gojo.
However, the thought of kicking Geto out of the apartment never crossed your mind. He had been there for you when no one else was, offering you a place to stay and a shoulder to lean on. The debt of gratitude you owed him was immeasurable, and you couldn't bear the thought of hurting him by asking him to leave.
But the reality of the situation was hard to ignore. With Geto now in a relationship, the dynamic between the two of you had shifted. The once frequent and cherished moments you spent together were slowly dwindling, replaced by the presence of his girlfriend. The pain of this change cut deep, reminding you of the void that had been left in your own heart.
It was a bittersweet realization. On one hand, you wanted Geto to find happiness and experience the joy that you had yearned for. But on the other hand, the thought of losing the closeness you once shared with him was almost unbearable. The loneliness that settled in your chest was suffocating, and you couldn't help but wonder if this was the price you had to pay for allowing yourself to love someone who didn't reciprocate those feelings.
As you continued to walk through the night, the weight of your emotions pressed down upon you, making each step feel heavier than the last. The tears that had threatened to spill earlier now streamed freely down your face, mingling with the cool night air. The world around you seemed to blur, as if mirroring the confusion and pain that consumed your thoughts.
In that moment, you longed for a respite from the ache in your heart. You yearned for a glimmer of hope, a sign that happiness was still within reach. But as you trudged forward, the path ahead appeared uncertain, and the darkness seemed to stretch endlessly before you.
As you continued your leisurely stroll down the bustling street, completely engrossed in your own thoughts, an unexpected interruption abruptly jolted you out of your reverie. Without warning, a firm grip seized your arm and forcefully pulled you aside, causing your heart to skip a beat and adrenaline to surge through your veins.
Startled and disoriented, you swiftly pivoted to confront the source of this sudden intrusion, only to find yourself face to face with two imposing figures towering over you. Their intense gazes, marked by dilated pupils and flushed cheeks, betrayed a mixture of desire and mischief. Smirking down at you, their eyes seemed to devour your presence.
One of them, his hand still clasping your arm, gradually allowed his fingers to glide up your forearm, tracing a tantalizing path towards your shoulder. With a deliberate and almost hypnotic motion, he entwined his fingers in your hair, playfully twirling it around his own digit. His voice, laced with a hint of seduction, broke the silence, "What brings such a beautiful lady like yourself here?"
As the words escaped their lips, a shiver ran down your spine, causing your heart to race in your chest. You couldn't help but feel a mix of apprehension and curiosity, unsure of what this encounter would bring. The intensity of the moment seemed to freeze time, leaving you suspended in a state of uncertainty.
Their gaze bore into yours, and you couldn't bring yourself to meet it fully. You felt a knot forming in the pit of your stomach, your thoughts racing as you tried to make sense of the situation. What did they want from you? Why were they looking at you like that? Fear began to grip you, making it difficult to find your voice.
Summoning every ounce of courage you had, you managed to muster a response, your voice trembling with a hint of caution. "What do y-you want from me," you stammered, your words barely audible. You hoped your timidity would shield you from whatever intentions they had.
Their smirks deepened, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of unease. Their amusement was evident, and it only fueled your anxiety. What were they finding so amusing? You felt their presence so close, their breath grazing your ear as they whispered. It sent a chill down your spine, making your heart skip a beat.
„Oh, we're just looking for a little adventure. And it seems we've stumbled upon someone who might be up for it.“
The mixture of fear within you intensified. You knew you had a choice to make, but indecision clouded your thoughts. Should you let fear dictate your actions, or should you embrace the unknown and venture into uncharted territory? The thought of the latter sent waves of panic through you, but there was also a strange allure to the idea.
Summoning all the courage you could find, you forced yourself to meet their gaze, though your eyes quickly darted away.
You mustered a response, your voice barely above a whisper. "Uhm- I don‘t think I‘m up for that little adventure of yours…" Your voice trailed off, your words lacking the conviction you wished you had.
Their eyes sparkled with newfound interest, and you couldn't help but wonder what you had gotten yourself into.
The person standing before you leaned in closer, their eyes sparkling with mischief and a sly smile playing on their lips. Their words were laced with an enticing promise, "Oh, come on," they said, their voice dripping with seduction, "we guarantee that we'll give you an unforgettable experience."
Feeling a surge of discomfort and unease, you instinctively took a step back. Their gaze was fixated on your smaller form, making you feel vulnerable and unsafe. Your lips trembled slightly as you averted their intense gaze, desperately trying to maintain some semblance of control.
With every intention of escaping this unsettling situation, you slowly began to walk backwards. But your attempt at retreat was abruptly halted when a hand forcefully grabbed your face, yanking you back towards them. The grip was rough, and it sent shivers down your spine.
"Where do you think you're going, miss?" the person holding your face sneered, their voice dripping with an unsettling mix of dominance and aggression. They pushed you further into their personal space, their other hand wrapping possessively around your waist, leaving no doubt about their intentions.
A whispered plea escaped your lips, your face contorting with fear and your eyes welling up with tears. You knew all too well what they wanted, but you refused to let anyone use your body against your will. The weight of their desires and the intrusion into your personal boundaries felt overwhelming.
Why did these things always seem to happen to you? Why did Gojo have to betray your trust and cheat on you? Why did Geto have to replace you? And now, why did these strangers feel entitled to possess you?
A sense of despair washed over you as you contemplated your seemingly endless streak of misfortune. Perhaps, you thought, you didn't deserve happiness after all. Maybe you were destined to endure these hardships. But deep down, you couldn't fathom what you had done to deserve such torment. The answers eluded you, leaving you feeling lost and helpless.
„P-please let me go.“ you whispered, your trembling hand instinctively reaching out to push against their chest, hoping to create some distance between the two of you. But instead of relenting, they tightened their grip on you, their hold becoming even more suffocating. The room suddenly felt smaller, as if the walls were closing in on you, and the air grew heavy with an unspoken tension. Panic coursed through your veins, causing your heart to race and your thoughts to spiral into a frenzy of fear and desperation.
What had you done to deserve this? Why did it seem like these unfortunate circumstances always found their way into your life? It was as if the universe had conspired against you, casting you as the perpetual victim of misfortune and suffering.
Maybe, just maybe, in another life, you deserved to be happy. Perhaps there was a parallel existence where the scales of fate tipped in your favor, where joy and contentment were your constant companions. It was a fleeting thought, but one that offered a sliver of solace in the midst of your current turmoil.
The hand that had been on your face now moved, sliding down to your neck, gripping it tightly and pushing you closer to the person who had trapped you. Just as their lips were about to meet yours, a voice abruptly chimed in, shattering the tense atmosphere.
"Oi... what the hell do you think you're doing?!" The voice came from behind, and you swiftly turned your head, your heart sinking even further as you recognized the unexpected intruder. It was Gojo. What was he doing here? His presence sent shockwaves through your already tumultuous emotions, leaving you even more bewildered and distressed. His expression mirrored your own surprise, as if he had stumbled upon a scene he hadn't anticipated.
"Get away from her!" Gojo's voice boomed, cutting through the tension like a blade. He swiftly moved towards you, positioning himself as a protective barrier between you and the ominous figure that had threatened you mere moments ago. The stranger, who had been momentarily caught off guard by Gojo's sudden arrival, now wore a scowl, their arrogance faltering.
"This doesn't concern you. Mind your own damn business," they sneered, their voice dripping with disdain. "Give me back the girl. She was certainly enjoying herself," they added, a twisted smirk forming on their lips.
Gojo's gaze shifted from the stranger to you, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of your tear-stained face, frozen in fear and anguish. His protective instincts kicked into high gear, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. "Enjoying it? I don't think so," he retorted, his voice laced with a mixture of fury and concern. "Look at her—she's fucking crying."
The question echoed in your mind, reverberating with confusion and disbelief. Why was Gojo, of all people, coming to your aid? What compelled him to intervene in this dangerous situation? But in that moment, as you stood there, vulnerable and broken, his unexpected support offered a glimmer of hope.
"These are happy tears," the man sneered, taking a menacing step towards Gojo and aiming a punch at his face. With lightning-fast reflexes, Gojo caught the man's fist and twisted his hand, eliciting a cry of pain from his adversary.
"Happy tears, huh? More like pain tears," Gojo growled, forcefully throwing the man to the ground before turning to confront your shocked and motionless figure.
As Gojo stood before you, his eyes blazing with determination, he extended a hand towards you, offering his help. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do next.
"I-I'm okay- thank you," you muttered, taking a step back from him. Confusion and a whirlwind of emotions churned inside you as you struggled to make sense of the situation. The man who had replaced you, who had broken your heart, was now standing before you offering assistance. Memories flooded back, the pain of his betrayal still fresh in your mind. Where was his girlfriend? Why was he here?
Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over, and you quickly wiped them away, refusing to let him see your vulnerability. You couldn't bear the thought of appearing weak in front of him, especially after three long months of trying to move on from the heartbreak.
Feeling a mix of embarrassment and anger, you turned away from Gojo, avoiding his gaze, and took a step forward to leave him behind. But just as you thought you could escape, a hand grasped your wrist, halting your movements.
As you turned around, your eyes met Gojo's figure standing there, his posture tense, his gaze lowered, and his expression a mix of emotions. His voice was gentle as he released your wrist and asked, "Hey... are you sure you're okay?" His concern was palpable, evident in the way he studied your tear-swollen eyes, a clear indication of recent distress.
Gojo's heart twisted at the sight of your tears, aching with the uncertainty of their cause. Was it his fault, or the dangers you had faced? The sight of you in pain tore at him, leaving him feeling helpless in his desire to ease your suffering. Despite the complexities of your shared history, his instinct to protect and console you remained unwavering, even though he felt clueless about how to mend the fractures in your heart.
"I'm fine, thank you for your help," you replied, avoiding his gaze, the weight of the moment suffocating you. You just wanted to escape the intensity of the situation. The air around you felt heavy with unspoken words and unresolved emotions, creating a tension that seemed to thicken with each passing moment.
"Hey... um," Gojo began, his voice soft as he struggled to find the right words. His fist clenched as he averted his gaze, his internal turmoil evident in the way his brows furrowed with self-reproach. The silence between you was pregnant with unspoken apologies and unaddressed grievances, adding layers of complexity to an already fraught interaction.
"I messed up, I'm sorry," Gojo finally admitted, his voice tinged with regret and a hint of desperation. The vulnerability in his tone was a stark contrast to his usual confident demeanor, revealing a side of him that you rarely saw – a side that was raw and exposed, stripped of its usual facade.
Your eyes widened at his admission, your heart racing with a mix of emotions. You searched his face for any signs of deception but found none. The lines of worry etched on his face, the sincerity in his eyes, all seemed to point towards a genuine remorse that tugged at your heartstrings, stirring up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within you.
"I'm so, so sorry, y/n," Gojo continued, his brow furrowed with genuine remorse. "I know I've hurt you in ways I may never fully comprehend. I can't erase the past, but I want you to know that I truly regret everything I've done." His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken truths and unaddressed wounds, creating a palpable tension that seemed to envelop the space between you.
You listened to his words, sensing the sincerity in his voice, yet the wounds he had inflicted remained raw. You were torn between the hope of reconciliation and the fear of trusting him again. The foundation of trust that once bound you together had been shattered, leaving behind a jagged edge that seemed impossible to mend.
As Gojo stood before you, his apology hanging in the air, each word felt like a heavy weight on your shoulders, a painful reminder of the hurt he had caused. Memories of being replaced, evicted, losing your job, and discovering his betrayal flooded your mind, a storm of pain and betrayal you had tried to bury. The ache in your chest grew with each passing moment, the conflicting emotions swirling within you like a turbulent sea.
"I'm sorry, please give me another chance," Gojo pleaded, taking your hand in his, holding on as if his life depended on it. His touch was warm against your skin, a stark contrast to the coldness that had settled between you. The weight of his hand in yours felt both comforting and suffocating, a reminder of the bond that had once held you together, now frayed and fragile.
As you felt his hand in yours, a wave of conflicting emotions washed over you. The warmth of his touch stirred memories of happier times, of shared laughter and stolen moments of intimacy. But beneath the surface, a current of pain and betrayal still lingered, threatening to pull you under.
You looked into Gojo's eyes, searching for answers, for a glimpse of the man you once knew. His gaze was earnest, his expression a mix of regret and determination. The vulnerability in his eyes mirrored the turmoil in your own heart, a silent plea for understanding and forgiveness.
"I don't know if I can," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. The weight of his apology, of the past that loomed between you, felt like a heavy burden you weren't sure you could bear. The wounds he had inflicted ran deep, leaving scars that seemed impossible to heal.
The realization that Gojo had a girlfriend sent a wave of conflicting emotions crashing through you. Doubt and insecurity gnawed at your insides as you grappled with the implications of his relationship status. Would he betray her with you again, repeating a cycle of deceit and hurt? The mere thought of being entangled in such a web of deception made your stomach churn with unease.
His words echoed in your mind, a cruel reminder of the comparison he had drawn between you and his girlfriend. "She's better than you," he had said, a dagger to your already wounded heart. The question lingered like a shadow in your thoughts - if she was indeed better, why did he seek you out again? Was it a game to him, a twisted manipulation of emotions that would end with you cast aside once more?
"You have a girlfriend," you spoke, your voice tinged with a mix of hurt and skepticism. "Right now, it feels like you're just repeating the same pattern that hurt me before."
His grip on your hand tightened, a silent plea for understanding and forgiveness evident in his touch. The warmth of his thumb tracing soothing circles on your palm offered a sense of reassurance amidst the storm of emotions swirling between you.
"I know it's complicated, and I understand your hesitation," Gojo began, his voice tinged with regret. "I never intended to hurt you. But being with her made me realize the depth of my mistakes with you. I can't change the past, but I want to make amends, if you'll allow me."
The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, mingling with the unspoken questions and doubts that clouded your mind. Would history repeat itself, with Gojo playing with your emotions once more before discarding you like before? The memory of past wounds still fresh, the scars still tender, made it hard to trust in the sincerity of his intentions.
Gojo's gaze met yours, his eyes filled with a complex mix of emotions - remorse, longing, and a glimmer of hope. His grip on your hand remained firm, a silent plea for a second chance, for understanding, for forgiveness.
"Me and her broke up," he confessed, his eyes avoiding yours as he gazed down at the ground, his expression pained.
As he uttered those words, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swept through your mind. Did he seek you out because he wanted to rebound from his recent breakup? Would he just use you as a temporary replacement until someone better came along, only to discard you once again?
You knew deep down that you deserved more than being someone's second choice. You craved genuine love and loyalty, to be someone's priority and not just a convenient option to fill a void.
The ache in your heart intensified at the realization that Gojo had only turned to you because of his recent breakup.
"S-so, you only want me back because you're no longer with your girlfriend? How could you- play with my feelings like this…?" you questioned, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.
As you stood there, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air, you couldn't help but feel a mix of anger, hurt, and confusion swirling within you. Memories of the past flooded your mind - the times he had come to you for comfort, the moments of laughter and intimacy you had shared. But now, it all felt tainted by the realization that perhaps it had all been a facade, a temporary distraction for him until something better came along.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your trembling voice as you continued to confront him. "I thought what we had was real, that you cared for me beyond just a temporary fix. But now, I see that I was just a convenient option for you to turn to when things got tough with her.."
His eyes met yours, a flicker of guilt and regret passing through them. "I didn't mean to hurt you..p-please," he began, his voice filled with remorse.
But your walls were up now, your heart guarded against further pain. "Intentions don't erase the damage done," you replied, tears spilling down your face.
„At least give me a new chance- I promise…I‘ll be better..please..-“ he begged, falling to his knees and looking up at you.
As he knelt before you, his voice filled with desperation and his eyes brimming with tears, a wave of conflicting emotions washed over you. His words tugged at your heartstrings, stirring up memories of happier times and the love you had once shared. Despite the pain and betrayal you had experienced, a part of you still longed for the connection you had with him.
His hand holding onto yours felt familiar, comforting in its own way. You could feel the intensity of his emotions radiating off him, his vulnerability laid bare before you. The urge to comfort him, to offer reassurance and forgiveness, warred with the anger and hurt that still lingered within you.
You gazed into his pleading eyes, searching for sincerity and remorse. The guilt began to gnaw at you, whispering that perhaps he deserved a second chance, that people make mistakes and can change. The inner turmoil threatened to overwhelm you, clouding your judgment and weakening your resolve.
A part of you wanted to believe his promises of change, to hope that things could be different this time. The idea of rebuilding what was broken, of finding a way back to the love you once shared, flickered in the depths of your heart. But another part of you, the part that had been wounded and scarred by his actions, hesitated to let down your guard once more.
But it wouldn‘t hurt to give him a second chance, right..?
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teyums · 1 year
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His Secret Admirer - Neteyam x fem na’vi reader
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part two | part three | part four |bonus chapter
wc: 6.7k
a/n: Welcome to my Neteyam X reader series! This first part is kind of a slow burn to establish the plot so there is not much action as I hate when things are rushed. But it is cute and a bit fluffy 🤭 The events of The Way of Water never happened in this series, so this is based in the forest. Enjoy!
Neteyam is 19, reader is 18 in this series.
contains: slight fluff, as little use of y/n as possible, very minor mention of 🪦 (one time)
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For as long as you could remember, you had the biggest crush on Neteyam Sully.
You couldn’t help it. He was the sweetest man in the entire clan and he acted much differently from the others. Never cocky, never boastful. It made your heart skip a beat just thinking about how he had always unapologetically been him - a genuine sweetheart and over protective from the start.
The two of you were not strangers, in fact, his presence was quite familiar to you. Throughout your younger years he would protect you from the harsh words of the other kids after witnessing you being bullied the first time. Upon finding out you spent most of your time alone and had no friends, he invited you to hang around him and his siblings with a promise of belonging. You hadn’t realized what an honor that was until you got older.
His brother and sister, Lo’ak and Kiri, quickly took a liking to you and became the friends you never had. But unfortunately for you and Neteyam, the progression of your story was cut short. As the years passed his schedule became bombarded with training duties, leaving him busy basically 24/7 and eventually causing your friendship to become less of a priority. You were hurt, but you had to understand it wasn’t personal. Once he got to a certain age, his parents allowed him to have fun and hang out with kids his age less and less; giving him constant reminders of the shoes he would grow to fill. Apparently, he had to spend every living and breathing moment training for a position you weren’t even sure he actually wanted.
Growing up, your mother told you that crushes were very simple and lighthearted. Something that was meant to make your heart flutter and your cheeks rosy. But having a crush on Neteyam was actually the exact opposite. This was Jake Sully’s son we were talking about. Girls fawned over him everyday, rightfully so. But watching them trail closely behind him as if he were metal and them magnets made your heart pang with jealousy. You knew you would never have a chance, and even if you did, there were probably so many other girls above you on the imaginary list that already had his attention. He would surely never make it down to your name once it came time for him to choose a mate.
Loving him was like yearning for something you didn’t even know existed. It was like opening your mouth to speak but remembering you didn’t have a voice to use. You weren’t a hunter or a healer, you couldn’t sing and you most definitely were not the beauty queen of the clan. You weren’t anything special, so how could you ever think you had a chance to call him yours?
“Nete-yammm” A gorgeous, tall na’vi giggled with a sing song tone, reaching out to caress any area of his body that didn’t already have a three fingered hand touching it. You cringed at the sound of her voice. That was Eyiti, the daughter of an amazing healer in your clan and probably first on his list to be his Tsahik. You absolutely loathed her, the way her eyelashes batted in his direction and how her stride became flirtatious when he was around to make the long braid that covered her queue sway side to side.
You definitely had your reasons for disliking her, one of them being that when you all were younger she had purposely tripped you and caused you to faceplant in the mud right in front of Neteyam. He had so much faith in everyone that he hadn’t even seen her foot conveniently stick out in front of you when you excitedly walked towards him. Before he could reach an arm out to help you up his dad had whisked him away, reminding him he had responsibilities he needed to tend to and at this point girls were the least of his worries.
“Is there anything we can do for you? Do you need your hair re-braided? A massage maybe?” The group asked, snapping you out of your bitter flashback when multiple different voices chirped, taking turns to offer him favors. You watched them swarm around him like vultures, his eyes searching for a way out of the circle.
“Yes, perhaps a massage! Your muscles must be sooo sore from your hunt yesterday.” Yet another voice chimed in, she literally looked like she wanted to eat the flesh off his bones and you rolled your eyes in annoyance. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone?
“Neteyam! Are you hungry? I can make something good for you to eat. You need all the energy you can get for your training later, right?”
“No!” Another na’vi woman hissed, latching onto one of his toned arms and hugging it. She almost knocked him over with the force that came from her launching herself at him. You watched him stumble to the side a bit, his stance awkward and stiff as his cheeks flushed due to all the overwhelming attention. Jeez, was she trying to hug his arm or rip it off his body to take it home with her?  You didn’t know but honestly you wouldn’t be surprised if that was her intention, these women were insane. They looked like little girls fighting over a doll with the way they were pulling him back and forth by his biceps.
“Girls, please” He spoke softly and forced a smile on his face in attempt to not hurt their feelings, or worse; make them more hostile than they already were. “I am okay, really. I do not need any of you to do anything for me other than enjoy your day. You all are…” he paused before continuing, “very beautiful and nice women but I truly must be going, I cannot be late for my meeting with my father.”
The mention of a discussion of the future with his father earned many dreamy sounding sighs from his personal fan club.
Your face grew hot when you noticed his eyes look up at you, seemingly begging for help with an almost panicked smile on his face. You pressed your lips together to stifle your laugh, then raised your hands in surrender on either side of your head to silently communicate to him that he was indeed on his own with this. You knew he’d be alright seeing as he dealt with this almost daily, but you also knew he was growing tired of it. Poor Neteyam was too nice to hurt their feelings, but even if you tried to help him what could you do? They’d probably tear you apart if you walked up and attempted to steal him away from their grasp. You sure as hell weren’t going to draw attention to yourself by intervening.
Thankfully for him, you heard Neytiri’s sharp voice yell his name from a different direction, causing the girls around him to jump and straighten up in fear of our Tsahik witnessing them behave in such a shameful manner. And from the sound of his mother’s voice- he was definitely late for that meeting. His ears perked up in alert but the expression on his face only showed relief due to her timely save.
“Gotta go girls!” He exclaimed with haste, sounding more excited now than he had their entire interaction. You sighed to yourself and gave him a subtle wave with a gentle smile, watching him take the extra second he didn’t have to smile back at you before he slipped through the small crowd and damn near sprinted to safety.
Your smile grew bigger as you watched him escape, soaking in the way his eyes had previously just held contact with yours for longer than they needed to. A daydream would have washed over you had you not felt the glares of his desperate admirers trying to burn holes through your head. You cleared your throat to break the awkward silence and swiftly turned on your heels, realizing it probably wasn’t the best idea to continue standing there if you valued your life.
~ a few hours later ~
Eclipse had now envelloped a previously sunny day, stealing the sky away and taking the sun’s place for the rest of the night. You sat with your mom on the floor of your hut, just having finished a wonderfully made dinner. “Mama, would you like help with the dishes?” You knew better than to excuse yourself before offering your assistance.
“No no, child. Go on, I know you want to take as much time as you possibly can before it gets late.” She smiled up at you and shooed you out with her hand, the wrinkles creased next to her eyes served in reminding you of how grateful you were to have had your mother by your side all these years.
“Yes mama, thank you.” Nodding your head, you at least stacked the dishes into each other to help as much as you could before you thanked her, quickly standing up from where the two of you were kneeling on the floor.
Your mother quietly laughed to herself at your excitement as you skipped to the doorway, surprised at how you didn’t trip over your own two feet as you gathered your things. You pushed through the curtains that served as a doorway to your home and once stepping foot outside, you felt your lungs expand to take a deep inhale and breathe in the crisp night air.
Almost everyday after dinner, you would excuse yourself with the permission of your mother and embark on a stroll through the forest. At first, she wouldn’t allow you to go more than half a mile without her. Her fears derived from the fact that you were no hunter and you did not like to carry weapons, meaning you could not protect yourself if the time called for it. But upon realizing you had a deep connection with the animals of the forest (and came back unscathed every time) her rules relaxed and her trust in you flourished. Even the Palulukan paid you no mind - you would still bring small chunks of meat with you though, just in case.
You expertly leaped from tree to tree with little to no time between. After taking the same path day by day it was muscle memory by now. You used the ball of your foot to stabilize your landing on the thick branches after each jump, and your opposite leg carried you to the next. This was your favorite part of everyday, traveling through the breathtaking forest with your own two legs and being able to really appreciate the vast land you called home. The way the rough, damp tree bark felt against your toes; the small chirps and mating calls of animals below you that filled your ears. You much preferred it to flying on an Ikran; they were loud and would scare away the small animals of the forest before you could say hello.
Before you knew it, you had reached your quiet hideaway above the waterfalls. A sigh of relief left your lips as you leisurely made your way up onto the bank of the cliffside; the ground illuminating briefly in the spots where you had stepped. Careful to not crush the flowers that had just recently bloomed, you crouched down closer to the ground to collect one of the things you came for. Pulling the bag you had brought with from behind your body, you patiently searched through the vegetation until locating one of your mother’s favorite herbs for stews, and another for salves.
That was the deal the two of you had made. If you were going to be out exploring the forest without her, you might as well make yourself useful and and collect what’s needed for the house. You didn’t mind though, your mother was getting older and you would do anything to make her job easier. Your father had died during the battle with the sky people almost twenty years ago and was one of many casualties. He was gone before your mother even had the chance to tell him she was pregnant. Every time you expressed sadness about it, she would hug you and remind you that he died with honor; fighting along side his people and protecting what was left of home tree. She gave birth nine months after his passing and raised you alone. She was offered help from the village, but did not want to accept pity. “We are all struggling from the aftermath of this war, not just I.” She would humbly say. She truly was the strongest person you knew.
After gathering a good amount, you gently reclined and rested against the large tree trunk that had been supporting your back for a couple weeks now. Closing your eyes, you let the sounds of the water crashing into the rocks below invite you into a calm, lucid state - the beat of your heart slowing to a steady rhythm as you lay in nature.
The serene forest awarded you with its peaceful lullaby for about fifteen minutes before the crunch of a twig snapping interrupted your meditation. You gasped quietly, whipping your head around in alert, your eyes straining to try and see through the trees. Not many animals came this high up into the forest, mostly birds or the Syaksyuk (night lemurs) swinging through the trees above. But these steps sounded heavy and that made your ears lower with worry.
“Who’s there!” You called out, rising to your feet with your hands prepped on your bag to secure your mother’s herbs in case you had to make a run for it. You squinted your eyes at the darkness in confusion, the sounds of the leaves crunching were not frequent enough to be the result of multiple feet.
“Ow! Damnit,” You heard a familiar voice curse, your ears perking back up when a tall na’vi with long braids emerged into your view.
“Neteyam?”  
He whipped his head up to look at you, his braids swaying to the other side of his head in sync with him. “[Y/n]?” He questioned right back at you. “What are you doing here? It’s late, you know.” He warned, brushing off his shoulder and looking around.  “Are you alone?”
Still confused by his sudden appearance, you shook your head slightly. “I come here almost every night, and yes I’m… alone,” you spoke, your voice quieting with the last word that left your lips as you looked at him in bewilderment. Your eyes traveled from every inch of his body and you found yourself gawking at how he looked even more beautiful while under the moonlight. Your attention quickly averted when his gaze found its way back to you, raising your head and stabilizing your tone. “Forget about me, what are you doing here?”
He noticed you staring but decided against addressing it. He chuckled and shook his head, “I too come here often,, but only during the day. The forest is very dangerous outside of our village at night, [Y/n].” He said softly and took a step closer. It almost looked as if he were worried about you.
“Yes, I-” You felt the urge to take one backwards but your feet stayed planted in the grass, your brain reminding you that you’re literally standing on a cliff right now. “I’m aware of the dangers,” you continued. “But the animals don’t pay me any mind, I actually think they sort of like me. And I always bring scraps of food, just in case.”
He nodded, seemingly approving your method of preparation.
“I don’t have anymore, though. The forest is a bit quiet tonight so I gave it all to a Palulukan I saw a little ways back.”
Neteyam’s eyes almost popped out of his head as he took a step closer to you once more, in an attempt to make sure the words he heard were correct. “A- a Palulukan?” He questioned, “Like, those six-legged creatures that will tear your head off without thinking? Are you feeling alright?” His face washed over with genuine concern as he brought a three fingered hand up to feel your forehead.
“Yes, Neteyam.” You giggled at his astonishment.  “I know what a Palulukan is, you skxawng.” You teased with an eyeroll and gently shooed his hand away, speaking up again to extinguish his worries. “But really, I’m fine. See?” You nodded slowly, extending your arms out to him to show your lack of injury.
“Huh, no scratches…” His eyes trailed along your smooth skin and you felt goosebumps prickle down your arms. You hadn’t remembered it being chilly tonight.
“No scratches,” you parroted, turning your back to him and returning to your previous resting area. “Come, sit with me.”
The corners of Neteyam’s mouth moved to form a small grin and he nodded his head in silent agreeance, taking you up on your invitation and sitting down next to you. He mimicked your movement, scooting back to relax against the base of the tree. A loud sigh of genuine relief could be heard from him and to you it sounded like he had been holding it in all day. You had your attention focused on the soft blades of grass that tickled your legs, suddenly tilting your head to the side with a new found query.
“Wait,” You started, earning a curious hum from him that permitted you to continue. “I thought you said you come here during the day time? Correct me if I’m wrong but, it looks pretty dark out here right now.” You joked.
Neteyam was always so lighthearted and easy going, so your eyebrows furrowed at him when he continued to stare straight forward at the waterfall across the ravine. You had expected him to laugh or at least crack a smile like he always did at one of your jokes, but he looked conflicted when he answered. “I just… I had to get away from my parents for a little while. They’re driving me crazy.” He grumbled.
Oh my Eywa, I’m such an idiot. This is the first time in years we’ve been completely alone and I’ve already soured his mood.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“
“No,” He interrupted, turning his head to look at you with a smile that instantly calmed your nerves. “Don’t feel bad, it is not your fault… Besides, I’m glad I came when I did. Had I gone earlier, I wouldn’t have gotten to see you.” His voice laced thick with his accent, you felt your stomach swarm with butterflies at the feeling of his large hand now resting atop yours.  His warm yellow eyes glistened, looking even more beautiful to you than the stars above your heads. Your lips parted slightly while the two of you sat there appreciating each other’s presence, his smile growing wider when he cocked his head to the side at the apparent loss of your train of thought.
Your eyes fell from his and focused themselves on your overlapped hands so you could blush in peace, earning a quiet snicker and a head shake from him. “Yes...” you finally responded, looking back up once you confirmed your heart wouldn’t explode and ruin the moment. “It has been a while since we hung-out.” You smiled, your tone mellow.
The two of you sat with each other for a while. Time passed so quickly whenever you were around him that you didn’t even know how long it had been. You talked about everything. His parents, how your mother was doing, and overall what he’d been up to. There was never a boring moment with Neteyam. At one point you expressed interest in his training, but the excitement was not reciprocated so you dropped the topic and instead joined in stargazing with him.
“So… How was that meeting you had earlier, with your parents?” You cleared your throat and spoke up after a bit, breaking the silence.
He scoffed and scratched his head lightly, throwing his arm up in an annoyed gesture. “Stupid and unnecessary. They tell me the same thing everyday as if I don’t already know.”
“What is it now? Are they scolding you for Lo’ak’s antics again?” You giggled at his aggravated huff in response to your question, using this moment to your advantage and gently resting your head on his shoulder. You genuinely thought it would be something along those lines. But when he hesitated before letting you in on exactly what they were pestering him about, you became worried.
“They want me to find a mate. Soon.”
His shoulders tensed and you blinked in disbelief at his words, your body slouching slightly against his arm with disappointment. The words that left his lips were not at all what you had been expecting. “Oh…” Your voice was almost a whisper with how hushed it was and you were glad he couldn’t see your face right now. A thousand thoughts clouded your brain at once, were they due to surprise at what he said, or fear?
“I’m not ready.” His voice snapped you out of your pity party, and you remembered that this wasn’t about you. It was about him. You had to set aside your feelings and hear him out. You guys were just friends anyway, and what else are friends for, right?
You laughed dryly, cringing after at how forced it sounded. “I think you’re just nervous, Neteyam. Besides, you have loads of options to choose from. Any one of your admirers from earlier will do fine.” You shrugged and tried to sound as encouraging as possible, picking the petals from a flower that you had taken into your grasp after you removed your hand from his.
“None of those women will ever be my mate.” He stated sternly, as if he sounded offended that you had even suggested it. His voice was calm and the volume low, but the tone he said it in made your breath falter. “Those are not the kind of women I want. They only see me for my status in the clan.” He mumbled, his feelings sounding hurt.
You sat up and turned your body towards him, dipping your head to try and meet his avoidant eyes. “’Teyam…” you said solemnly. He still hadn’t met your eyes but his ears perked up slightly in response to the old nickname you had for him. Watching him pick blades of grass out of the ground to distract himself from the conversation, you sighed to yourself in frustration. Not at him, but at the fact that the constant reiteration of the importance of his training throughout the years really had him thinking such a thing. “Look at me.”
His head lifted slowly but his eyes wouldn’t stay on your face. He gnawed at the inside of his bottom lip, feeling embarrassed for even bringing it up.
“You-” grabbing his hand in both of yours, you shook it slightly for emphasis and squeezed firmly, “-are so much more than a title, and you know that. You are worth so much more. Do you hear me, Neteyam?” Your gaze held strong and your shyness had no control over you at this point. You wanted to make sure he understood what you were saying. You wanted to make sure he knew you were telling the truth. You needed him to.
His eyes finally locked on yours and it was his turn to feel shy this time. A small smile broke through his previous frown, and his eyes fell to your lips for a split second before he looked back up at you. “Okay.” He answered, sounding satisfied with your reassurance and stroking the back of your hand with the pad of his thumb as a thank you.
The air between the two of you felt electric when you remembered you were still holding his hand. Your chest began to rise and fall with weighted breaths when you noticed he seemed to be admiring your features. You cursed yourself for wondering what it would feel like to kiss him- thinking about how well your lips would pair with his. Your intense feelings for him had calmed slightly due to his absence, but now you felt them bubbling up and threatening to burst through the surface all over again.
A loud horn sounded suddenly, interrupting your thoughts and signaling the end of a day. The both of you jumped and your hands retracted, startled out of your intimate interaction.
“Oh my Eywa… I was supposed to be home almost an hour ago!” You exclaimed, sounding panicked as you rushed to grab your things.
Neteyam’s eyes widened and he immediately stood up, looking equally as panicked upon remembering what happened the last time he got you home late to your mother when you guys were younger.
“I-I’m sorry, this is all my fault. I distracted you.” Rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, he eagerly extended his free one out to help you up while sounding apologetic. “Come, I’ll take you home.”
You accepted his offer and allowed him to assist you to your feet, shaking your head repeatedly as you stood in front of him. “No, no. This is on me, I completely lost track of time.”
Though it wasn’t his fault you had stayed out much too late into the night, he was right about one thing. He was able to distract you so easily, you became clumsy in his presence. You mindlessly took a wrong step to the side, crying out in pain when your foot came in contact with the thorn bush you usually remember to avoid- it’s sharp and thick thorns piercing through your skin.
“What? What is it? What happened?” Neteyam questioned frantically, his voice loud and riddled with worry when you yelled and helplessly clutched onto his biceps for support.
Pain shot like lightning through your leg and with your eyes tightly shut you hissed out an answer. “M-my foot, I-” you managed to get out between sharp inhales, another cry of pain interrupting your sentence when you attempted to lower your foot to see if you could walk.
“No!” Neteyam spoke against your movement, sighing when his advice came too late. “You cannot walk like this, hold onto me and keep your foot raised.”
Now, if it didn’t feel like your entire leg was on fire, you probably would’ve crumbled at the feeling of his warm hand sliding between the fold behind your knee and lifting it slightly to assist you with his instructions.  The two of you were in such a compromising position, yet you couldn’t even enjoy it.
“Maybe we should sit down-“
You hopped a bit and shook your head, sliding your arms around his neck to reduce the weight burdened on your free leg as he held your thigh. “The thorns, they’re poisonous,” you breathed out. “I have to get home.”
“Poi-“ His mouth fell open in shock, almost repeating the word that had alarmed him. His jaw clenched seeing you in pain, he felt bad knowing he wasn’t able to help. “Can you fly? Call your ikran, now.”
“I can’t-“
“How foolish of me, you probably cannot fly. We will go on mine.” Before you could get another word out he raised his pointer finger and thumb to his lips with haste, resulting in a crisp, loud whistle.
The truth is… you couldn’t fly even if you wanted to. You never tamed an Ikran of your own and you were deathly afraid of flying. Because of this, you traveled solely by foot and had no intention of changing that. Until now.
You squealed in fear when his Ikran dropped down onto the cliffside in an instant, turning and shielding your face from its sharp, flapping wings. “Neteyam-“
“Come, we must go. There’s no time.” He urged, his eyes locked on your trembling foot as he waited for you to move.
“Wait!” you raised your voice, only to get his attention. “I’m… I’m scared of flying. Terrified.” You gulped, now looking at the giant creature but careful to not make direct eye contact.
“You are?” His voice was soft, intent on not making you feel bad for something you couldn’t control. He looked conflicted. Neteyam was never the type of man to make you do something you didn’t want to do, but he truly had no choice.  “[Y/n], I am sorry, but we must. We need to tend to your wound as soon as possible. I understand your fear, so I will tell her to fly slow. No sharp tuns or dips, yes?”
Closing your eyes for a second, you sighed and slowly nodded your head. You attempted to calm yourself and slow your breathing as best as you could, knowing there was no other option but to face your fear. He waited for you to prepare yourself before swooping his arm below your legs and lifting you off the ground gently.
You actually wanted to kick yourself. To be in his arms was everything you wanted and more, minus the raging pain paired with numbness that was slowly starting to travel past your toes. You tightened your hold on his neck once arriving at the Ikran’s saddle and he felt your body tense against him.
“Mawey, [Y/n]. It will be alright, I promise.” Delicately placing you down on the back of his Ikran, he motioned for you to swing your other leg over before climbing on in front of you. “Hold here.” He reached behind him and grasped your hands, bringing them forward and positioning your palms  to lay flat on his toned chest.
Your heart was beating so fast, you were surprised you even heard his voice through the loud thumping ringing in your ears.
“You feel my heart?”
“Y-yes.” You nodded almost as soon as the question left his mouth. His heart was the only thing you could feel. Hell, you couldn’t even feel your legs but you knew the numbing poison hadn’t travelled through your bloodstream that fast. You prayed they would regain feeling so you wouldn’t fall off this giant bird.
“Slow your breathing, listen to the beat of my heart and allow yours to do the same.” He instructed calmly, fastening his hands on the reigns.
You swallowed what felt like a giant lump in your throat, scooting closer to him and leaning forward to press your front against his back as he prepared to take off. The feeling of your skin against his was enough to make your breath shudder, but you really couldn’t use anymore excitement right now. “What if I fall?” You whispered.
“Nonsense,” He chuckled lowly and the vibration of his voice could be felt against your cheek. “You know I’d never let anything happen to you.”
You pulled back ever so slightly, your mouth agape and your eyes staring at the back of his head in disbelief at how easily those words came to him. However, your moment of pondering was cut short when he beckoned his Ikran to take off, your grip retightening and your body gluing back to his instantly. The large animal squawked before plunging itself off the cliff, resulting in a frightened scream from you.
“Tamtam, Saya. We have a new rider with us, and she’s a bit fearful.”  Pulling up slightly, he used one of his hands to softly pat her strong neck to soothe her. The animal listened to his demands, flying steadily and slowing her pace to a gentle glide through the air. “How are you doing back there?” He asked, as if your nails digging crescent marks into his pecs couldn’t give him the answer he searched for.
Finally opening your eyes, you carefully peeked over your shoulder and peered down at the forest below you, letting out a small gasp. Softening the grip you had on the man in front of you, your eyes twinkled with admiration. “Neteyam, i-it’s beautiful…” you spoke in awe. You had never seen the forest from above until now and experiencing such a sight with him made you feel as if you had been missing out this entire time. You almost completely forgot about the fear that consumed you just a few minutes prior.
After a few more minutes, Saya began to descend in front of your home- pulling you out of the spell the beauty of the forest had cast on you. The flight came to a gradual halt and her wings flapped in place to cushion the landing as much as possible. You saw the flickering of candle flame illuminating from inside.
Oh no. Please don’t be awake, please don’t be awake, please do not be awake.
Silently cursing yourself, you removed your hands from Neteyam’s chest. You secretly pouted at the sudden lack of warmth, but right now you had bigger issues to tend to- one of them being facing your mother. Neteyam dismounted swiftly, giving you a reassuring look and allowing you time to slide one of your arms around his neck before lifting you off, carrying you bridal style. “Not so bad, huh?”
Both your heads snapped to the entrance of your home as you watched your mother run out before you could answer him. “[Y/N!]” She yelled, not caring if her voice carried to the other homes. “Where have you been?!”
She looked worried sick, you felt terrible.
“Neteyam?” She questioned, obviously confused as to why he was with you- or maybe why you weren’t standing on your own two feet.
“Hi Ma…” You started, earning an angry glare from her. “I can explain.”
She whipped a hand up and closed her fingers, effectively silencing you as she turned her gaze back to Neteyam. “Young man, what were you doing with my daughter, this late in the night?” Her voice was eerily calm.
He lowered his head slightly to show respect. “I am sorry, I will explain everything… but your daughter is injured and we must tend to it, immediately.”
Her expression changed instantly, her eyes searching to find a wound until she noticed your swollen foot. “Oh my goodness… Come!” She demanded, urging Neteyam to bring you into the house.
“Place her down, here. Gently.”
He did as he was told and crouched down, removing his arm from beneath your legs once you sat down completely. He ran his now sweaty hands along his thighs and with his mouth in the shape of an ‘O’ he exhaled nervously, standing and obediently placing himself against the wall. He looked scared shitless and was more than happy to remove his hands from your skin in the presence of your agitated mother. You looked up at him apologetically, mouthing a silent ‘I’m sorry’.
You winced in pain at your throbbing foot, taking over for Neteyam and explaining to your mother what had happened before she could ask again. “I-I stepped in a thorn bush,” You paused, reluctantly continuing your sentence. “the poisonous one…”
She hissed in distaste, her back to you as she gathered what was needed to make medicine. “Everyday you go out, what do I tell you?” She seethed.
“Be care-“
“To be careful!” She cut you off before you could finish and you winced again, but not because of your foot. She lowered herself to the ground and propped your foot up on her leg to examine it. “You are lucky, child. The thorns could have broken off in your foot and put you in much worse shape.” She grumbled, wetting a cloth and using it to clean the dried blood from your skin.
“I know, and I’m sorry. I lost track of time and got distracted.” The pain began to subside as the poison completely numbed your foot, now working its way up your calf.
You watched her gaze shift to a nervous Neteyam who stood stiff and silent against the walls of your hut, looking at him suspiciously while he tried to find the right words to use.
“Ma, please.” You pleaded, your voice bringing her attention back to you like you wanted. “It was not like that, I swear it. He found me after I stepped on the thorns, had it not been for him I would not have been able to make it back.” You had lied a bit, but it was mostly the truth. “He had nothing to do with this, it was all my fault. He only helped me home, Mama.” You didn’t want her blaming Neteyam for something that wasn’t his doing, he had enough of that at home. Your mother was extremely protective over you because of what happened to your father, you were all she had left so she always came on strong at first when it concerned you.
She became quiet in a moment of contemplation, “I apologize, Neteyam. Thank you for bringing my daughter back to me safely.” She nodded her head, looking up at Neteyam with gratitude this time.
He smiled shyly as if it were no big deal, holding his arm with one hand as he dropped his head and shook it from from side to side, his braids following suit. He hadn’t changed a bit. Always quick to take the blame, but never to accept praise.
“Will your parents be angry with you?” You chimed in, looking at him worriedly. He already had so much on his plate, you felt bad at the thought of contributing. You relaxed slightly once he shook his head in attempt to assure you that he would be okay.
“It is fine, really. Making sure you are safe is far more important to me.” He responded, looking into your eyes and keeping them there until your mother cleared her throat to remind the two of you of her presence.  “Ah, but I really should be going. It is late.” He swallowed, managing to tear his eyes away from your face. “Will she be alright?”
Your mother nodded, wiping the wet cloth along the sole of your foot once more. “Yes, thanks to you. Please, greet your parents for me?”
You watched as he brought two fingers up to his forehead then brought them back down with a slight bow, respectfully acknowledging your mother and excusing himself.
“Goodnight…” You sent him off with a coy wave, bringing your fingers up to gently rest against your lips as you watched him leave. The second he was out of your sight, everything that had just transpired in the last hour and a half began to wash back over you.
Thanking Eywa that your mother’s back was turned to grab few ingredients for an ointment, you looked to the side and picked up your bag, feeling slightly guilty. “I brought your herbs, mama. I’m sorry you have to waste them on me.” Your voice trailed off as you ushered them off in her direction.
“Nonsense. When it comes to you, nothing is a waste. We can always get more herbs, but I only have one of you. Do you understand?” She reassured, her hand on your cheek to comfort you before reaching for your bag. “You mean much more to me than any of these things.”
Your shoulders relaxed and you leaned into her touch with a sweet smile and a nod, grateful you had such a caring mother. You watched as she expertly ground up the herbs with a bit of aloe vera, her technique crafting it into paste that would aid in the healing of your injury. She dipped two of her fingers into the bowl, gently applying it to the puncture marks in your flesh.
“So…” She started, her voice laced with curiosity.
You groaned, bringing your hands up to cover your face in embarrassment as you already knew a boatload of questions were about to follow. Regardless of how tough your mother could be with him, she was surprisingly supportive of your crush on Neteyam and even encouraged it. You always made sure to tell her what a respectful young man he was.
“I haven’t even said anything yet!” She laughed, grabbing the bandage next to her and wrapping it around your foot as she continued. “Look, I just think you should go for it. You should to tell him how you feel, don’t you think he deserves to know?”
You sighed and looked down at your hands, twiddling with your fingers as you thought of what to say. “I don’t know Ma… I don’t want to get hurt. His parents want him to find a mate now, but he said he isn’t ready.”
“My sweet child,” Your mom took your hands into hers, causing you to look up at her.  “He is waiting for you.”
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a/n: Alright y’all, the first part of my Neteyam x reader series is doneeee ahh I’m so excited!! Isn’t Neteyam the sweetest? 🙈 I really hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! It took about three days and so many grueling proof reads, so if they’re still any typos I missed I apologize. 😅 I am actively tweaking my brain for more ideas for the upcoming parts, so please forgive me if part 2 takes a second to drop. lmk if you want to be tagged! 💞
Please like + reblog if you can it’s much appreciated 💞
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projectionistwrites · 10 months
Note
Literally would read any moon knight smut from you 🥵 can I request something with the boys having a marking/spit kink? I feel like it is most in Marc’s character but tbh I’m not particular heh
sorry this took so long hehe i hope you like it <3
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ONCE BITTEN, TWICE SHY
Marc Spector x afab!reader (mentions of Steven Grant x reader) (2.2k)
Marc Spector didn’t fancy himself a jealous man—but you knew exactly how to push his buttons.
RATING: EXPLICIT (18+ mdni) WARNINGS: arguing, jealousy, SMUT (oral (f! and m! receiving), degradation, a bit of choking, facefucking, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, mean!dom!marc)
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It was an accident, really—you hadn’t meant for it to slip out. And yet, there wasn’t a single part of you that felt bad about it.
Marc had already been in a bad mood when he’d woken up that morning, sulking and brooding and generally unpleasant to be around. When you’d asked him what was wrong, he’d brushed you off, insisting he was just tired and had a headache. You knew better than to believe him.
Truthfully, you had a suspicion that Marc had been feeling neglected. After he’d introduced you to Steven several weeks ago, the two of you had been inseparable—you and Marc had been dating for a year and half, so getting to know Steven was like the honeymoon phase all over again. He was sweet, and gentle, and shy, and many other things that Marc simply wasn’t. The contrast excited you, but you could tell that the puppy love between you and Steven had begun to take a toll on Marc.
When you’d gotten home from work today, you had planned on offering to cook a nice meal for you and Marc in an attempt to smooth things over and ease his worried mind, but he clearly was in no mood for reconciliation.
“Honey, I’m hooome.”
You sing-songed jokingly as you walked in the door, keys jingling in the lock. When you received no response, your joviality quickly dissipated and a deep frown etched itself into your face.
“Hello?”
You called again, brows furrowed in confusion. You took a few steps into the apartment, hanging your bag on the coatrack and slipping your shoes from your feet. Again, silence.
You went to turn the corner towards where the bedroom side of the studio apartment was, but quickly collided with a warm body as you rounded the bookshelf.
“Jesus fuck!”
You yelped as a hand came out to steady your shoulder, saving you from stumbling backwards on impact.
“You scared me....”
You hesitated, looking up at the man before you cautiously. The scrunch between his brows and hardness in his brown eyes quickly confirmed your suspicions.
“...Marc.”
Marc mistook your brief moment of pause as disappointment, and he sneered, releasing your arm with a small shove and sidestepping you.
“Yeah, it’s me. Sorry to disappoint.”
You blinked a few times in disbelief, frozen in place as his words took a moment to sink in. When they finally did, you were left reeling, whirling around to face his retreating figure with an incredulous expression.
“What?”
Marc huffed angrily, nostrils flaring as he threw himself onto the couch, a hand reaching up to run through his dark hair.
“I said, sorry to disappoint. I’m sure you’d much rather have Steven greeting you when you get home.”
“I never said that.”
You scoffed, approaching him slowly with your arms crossed over your chest. His brown eyes darted up to your face, his lips curled into a scowl.
“You didn’t have to. You’ve made it pretty clear.”
“Where is this coming from, Marc?”
It was a stupid question—both of you knew the answer already. Marc’s nostrils flared as he averted his gaze from you, sulking silently and staring off at some point in the distance.
A pang of guilt accompanied the sigh that fell from your lips as you noticed the slight quiver of his lip, and you made your way to the empty spot next to him.
“Hey.”
You started gently, letting your hand trace across the veins of his forearm before your slid your fingers between his own.
“I’m sorry, Marc. I know—I know things have been moving pretty fast between me and Steven, and I know I haven’t made as much time for you as I should have. I’m sorry.”
You leaned into him, head ducking slightly in an attempt to catch his gaze with your own. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment as he drew in a long, deep inhalation, before he finally opened them again and fixed them on you.
“No, it’s—it’s okay, baby. I’m glad you and Steven are getting along, that’s exactly what I hoped would happen. And I’m sorry I—I freaked out. Just—miss you, s’all.”
He confessed, a slight blush creeping up his neck and ruddying his cheeks. Marc wasn’t often open about his feelings, so the brief moment of vulnerability was significant. You smiled softly at him, reaching up to brush your fingers through his soft curls.
“Why didn’t you just say so, huh, handsome?”
A smirk quickly made its way across his lips at the insinuation in your tone, his arms swiftly wrapping around your body to haul you up onto his lap and into a searing kiss.
It wasn’t until you were seconds away from an orgasm, Marc’s face buried between your thighs, that you’d fucked up.
“Shit, shit—”
You cried, fisting at the sheets on either side of you as Marc’s tongue swirled over your clit, two of his thick fingers buried in your weeping cunt.
“Oh, God, yes, m’gonna cum, gonna—ahh, fuck, don’t stop, yes, Steven, fuu—”
Your hips lurched off the bed when the stimulation abruptly ceased, your eyes shooting open in alarm only to come face-to-face with Marc’s hardened expression, his lips still shining with your slick.
“Fuck, why’d you—?”
“What the fuck did you just say?”
He interrupted your whiny plea with his threatening words, growled lowly as his eyes narrowed at you. Your rapid heartrate only sped up when you thought back on your pleasured cries, quickly realizing your mistake. You bolted upright in an instant, your eyes wide and panicked, reaching to grip Marc’s bare shoulders.
“Oh, Marc, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”
He pulled away from you, rising to his knees on the bed so he loomed over you.
“Get on your knees.”
Your breath stuttered.
“What?”
You yelped when Marc lunged forward, his hand coming to twist in your hair to yank you harshly forward so you were face to face.
“I said,”
he growled, his breath hot on your face and fingers taut in your hair,
“get on your fucking knees.”
He released you with a rough shove and you scrambled off the bed onto your knees, quickly obeying his order. You watched as he slipped off his last remaining layer of clothing before he slowly made his way over to you, his figure towering over you with intimidation and malice. Excitement was beginning to swirl in the pit of your stomach—you’d never seen Marc so angry before, so domineering and unhinged. Still, a small pang of guilt shot through you at your earlier mistake.
“Marc, really, I’m so sorry—”
“Shut the fuck up.”
He snapped, and you immediately obliged, eyes blowing wide at the sternness in his tone. His chest was heaving with labored breaths and his nostrils were flared, eyes alight with fury.
“You just don’t know when to stop fucking talking.”
He was right in front of you, now, languidly stroking his hardened length inches away from your face, precum beading at the slit. He reached forward and roughly grabbed your jaw in his other hand, fingers curling to squeeze your cheeks.
“You wanna keep moaning his name? Guess I’ll have to make you shut up.”
His hand migrated up and wrapped in your hair before yanking your neck back. When your lips parted with a surprised gasp, he immediately plunged his thick length into your mouth, forcing himself down your throat without warning. The sudden and abrupt intrusion caused you to gag harshly, and he pulled out only long enough for you to draw in a gasping breath before he thrusted forward again, sinking his cock all the way back into your throat and beginning a steady rhythm of fucking your face.
“Only way you’ll be quiet is if you’ve got a mouth full of dick, huh?”
He grunted, hips snapping forward. There was drool foaming at the sides of your lips, tears streaming down your cheeks as you forced yourself to sit back and let him use you, the tip of his cock bruising the back of your throat and his balls slapping noisily against your chin.
“Bet you miss him now, don’t you? Steven doesn’t treat you like this—doesn’t know how much of a fucking slut you are.”
You felt yourself grow impossibly wetter at his words, reaching up to brace your hands on his muscular thighs in order to prevent them from reaching between your legs to touch yourself. You felt his arm reach down until his fingers curled around your neck, allowing him to feel each stroke of his cock down your throat.
“Fuck, baby—such a pretty little whore.”
Finally, finally, he pulled out of your mouth, a long string of saliva still connecting the tip of his ruddy cock to your swollen lips. You gasped harshly, letting the mixture of tears and drool drip from your chin as you gazed up and him with watery eyes.
“Thank you, Marc, thank you, I love you, I—”
Marc growled, his grip on your throat tightening and briefly cutting off your airflow.
“Shut. Up.”
He hissed, pulling you upwards with his hand on your neck and tossing you towards the bed. You fell backwards, immediately pliant beneath him as he reached to lift both of your ankles above your head before abruptly plunging his spit-soaked cock into your dripping folds.
A pornographic mewl escaped you at the feeling of him penetrating you, your hole still tight and unprepared for the thickness of his cock. The burn of the stretch was intoxicating, but you were quickly pulled away from the feeling when Marc’s fingers found your jaw again, squeezing your cheeks so your lips involuntarily parted.
“Open.”
He growled, and you obliged, allowing him to spit straight into your awaiting mouth. You whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as he kept railing into you, your mouth closing as his taste overwhelmed you.
“You don’t swallow until I tell you—you hear me?”
You nodded vigorously, eyes silently pleading as tears continued to stream down your face, the sound of slapping skin filling the room as Marc bared his teeth.
“Yeah, that outta wash his name outta your filthy fuckin’ mouth, huh?”
You could barely hear him over the static humming in your ears, an orgasm creeping up and washing over you without warning. You choked on your sob, desperately following Marc’s orders and keeping your mouth full of his saliva despite your desperation to cry out.
Marc felt you clench down on him, and his pace quickened.
“Yeah, that’s it, baby—you cum all over this cock.”
He leaned forward and sank his teeth into the flesh of your collarbone, licking and sucking bruises into your neck and up your throat. You lay helpless beneath him, body melting into the mattress as he continued to pound into you relentlessly, the sting of his lips hot against your sweat-sheened skin.
“Gonna keep you covered in these, baby—he’s never gonna forget who you fuckin’ belong to.”
He grunted in your ear, pulling the lobe between his teeth briefly before sitting back up, shifting up onto his knees and wrapping your legs around his waist before jackhammering into you once again.
He reached forward a final time to wrap his hand around your throat, now covered with red and purple bruises in the shape of his mouth.
“Swallow.”
He panted, his eyes wild and pace faltering.
"Swallow, and tell me who you belong to.”
You swallowed the fluid the had gathered across your tongue and finally let out a salacious moan, back arching off the bed as a second orgasm began building in your abdomen. You could hardly even remember what had started this thing in the first place, and you definitely didn’t care—your entire existence was overwhelmed with Marc, Marc, Marc.
"You, Marc—belong to you."
You cried, and you felt his fingers curl into your neck as he leaned over you, the heat of his body absolutely smothering you as his free hand reached between you to circle your clit. You keened.
“Again. Louder. Who do you belong to?”
“You, Marc—fuck, fuck, Marc, I belong to you, fuck—"
Your climax peaked fiercely, white hot and blinding as your toes curled and your entire body trembled beneath him. The rhythmic clenching of your tight cunt around him had Marc following close behind, his release punctuated by a sharp yelp before he buried himself to the hilt, allowing his seed to fill you completely, offering a few more deep thrusts before stilling.
Marc’s tension-laden body immediately collapsed on top of you, his head tucking into the crook of your neck as his cock stayed nestled inside of you. Your arms wrapped around his clammy torso, one hand stroking a soothing line down his spine and the other brushing through his hair, your lips planting a soft kiss to his forehead. His frantic exhales were hot against your neck.
“I mean it, Marc. I’m yours.”
You assured in a whisper, and Marc tilted his head up to look at you, his once cold eyes now softened with a familiar gentleness.
“I know, baby.”
He leaned up and pecked you on the lips.
“And now you’ll never forget it.”
You let out an airy giggle, sinking back into the comfortable and familiar weight of his body on yours. After a few moments, you bit your lip and gave him a mischievous smile.
“So...when do I get to meet Jake?”
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slytherinslut0 · 6 months
Text
MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me
Chapter Fourteen-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.
(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)
Tags: 18+, SMUT, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Dirty Talk, Toxic Behaviour, Angst, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Jealousy, Possessive Behaviours, Slight!Heartbreak, Begging, Ab!Riding, Throat Fucking, Oral Sex (m rec.), Sexual Aggression.
****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.
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Your eyelids fluttered open, the world gradually shaping into focus around you. Confusion, muggled by the drowsiness due to your utter exhaustion, fogged your vision for a moment, until it cleared to the soft glow of the room illuminating your intertwined forms--Mattheo’s presence still enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth and safety.
As you began to regain your sense of consciousness, a sudden surge of panic gripped you, tightening like a vice around your chest. Your eyes darted frantically, scanning the room for any sign of a clock or timekeeping device. The urgency of the moment bore down on you, the seconds ticking away in your racing heartbeat. Mattheo stirred, his awakening a slow unfurling of consciousness. His eyelids, heavy with remnants of sleep, flickered open, revealing the depths of his confusion. His brows furrowed, a silent question lingering in the lines of his face as he met your gaze.
In a groggy, half-asleep murmur, he asked, "What's wrong?"
Mattheo blinked a few long, slow blinks before his eyes, drenched in genuine concern, sought yours, searching for answers. As the realization of the situation slowly dawned on him, as he slowly comprehended your distress, his grasp around you immediately loosened, pulling away from you with a swift impulse.
"Mattheo, please, what time is it?" you implored, your voice laced with desperation as you tried to gauge the hour.
His eyes, still heavy with sleep, shifted to the clock across the room. Time seemed to stretch infinitely as his gaze met the numbers, and his eyes widened in shock. He whipped his head back to look at you, panic spreading through his eyes in the same instant that yours widened, both of you internally freaking out as the reality of what you'd done sank in.
"It's almost five in the morning," he said, his voice carrying the weight of realization, your pulse echoing in the tense silence that had now enveloped the room.
The pale light filtering through the window painted a surreal scene of dawn, a stark reminder of the night slipping away, carrying with it the consequences of your actions. The horror etched across both your faces underscored the need for swift action, but in that moment, you both were frozen, caught in the grip of shared regret and fear.
"Oh, Gods!" You finally said, leaping up from the couch, your mind racing with panic--the reality of the situation hit you like a tidal wave, and your thoughts spun in frantic circles.
Contemplations about what to tell Emily swirled through your mind, your heart hammering in your chest as you envisioned the countless possibilities. Creeping out unnoticed became your immediate mission, every step and breath need to be calculated in order to avoid detection. With your heart in your throat, you began to plan your escape, the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket.
As your fingers tightened around the fabric of your clothes, a sharp pang of realization gripped you like a vice--your hair carried the undeniable scent of weed, alcohol, and sweat from sleeping against Mattheo.
"Oh, Gods..." you stammered, your voice trembling with panic as you clutched your clothes against your chest. Your frantic eyes met Mattheo's, desperation written all over your face. "I-I'm fucking screwed...I..."
Mattheo, still struggling to fully awaken, swung his legs over the edge of the couch and stood, his hand raking through his messy, disheveled hair in a gesture of exasperation, the muscles in his arms tensing and contracting with each movement.
"You, what?" he asked, his voice laced with confusion. "What is it?"
You were trembling, every fiber of your being vibrating with fear. "My hair...I...I smell like-"
"Hey, it's alright," Mattheo, sensing your distress, gently interrupted, his voice steady yet comforting. "Calm down, Raven, okay? It's bloody early; you'll be able to sneak out without anyone even noticing. No one is awake before eleven on fucking Sundays around here, let's be real..."
His words were a lifeline in your moment of crisis, his calm demeanor offering a glimmer of comfort amid your rising anxiety.
But your overwhelming panic refused to subside. "I just...Emily will smell it on me, I'll have absolutely no excuse, she knows I've never...she knows I-"
"Take a shower." Mattheo's eyes softened with understanding as he cut you off again, his mind racing for a solution. "Just...just have a shower, wash the smell off and tell her you fell asleep in the library...if she catches you while walking in, tell her you used the prefects washroom because you didn't want to wake her..."
His words hung in the air, a liferaft amidst the chaos of your racing thoughts. Take a shower, Mattheo had said, a flicker of relief trickling through your veins, pushing back the tide of panic that had threatened to overwhelm you as his suggestion sunk in.
Okay, deep breaths, you coached yourself internally, your racing mind slowly beginning to steady. Shower, wash it off, and a plausible excuse...the library, the prefects' washroom. It could work. It's believable.
With each exhale, the grip of panic began to loosen, replaced by a fragile sense of hope. Mattheo's idea, simple yet effective, became your main focus now, a plan to navigate the storm. You released a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding, feeling some of the tension seep away. In that moment, you clung to the belief that maybe, just maybe, you could salvage the situation and keep your secret safe. The shower suddenly seemed like a sanctuary, a place where you could wash not only the physical traces of the night but also the lingering fear that had settled deep within your bones.
"Yeah...yeah, that might actually work," you said, your voice laced with tension. "Can...can you show me to it...?"
Mattheo parted his lips, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes at your question, the corners of his lips working hard to fight off an arrogant smirk. However, sensing your lingering tension and stress, he decided to skip the teasing in a surprising act of understanding.
Instead, he simply nodded, his expressions stoic and almost empathetic, and with a gentle motion, he directed you towards the washroom, silently acknowledging the unspoken fears that weighed on your shoulders.
As you stepped inside, a sense of tranquility enveloped you. The space was adorned in calming earthy tones, from the soft beige walls to the rich brown accents of the wooden cabinets. The ambient lighting, casting a warm, golden glow, lent an air of serenity to the room. The focal point was the walk-in shower, a sleek and elegant structure with transparent glass walls that made the room feel even more expansive. The shower's interior was fitted with gleaming chrome fixtures, accentuated by a tiled seat in bench, giving you a perfect place to sit and contemplate your questionable life choices, should you have had the time to do so.
So many thoughts swarmed your brain at this moment, watching as Mattheo padded toward the shower, turning it on and adjusting the water temperature for you--part of you cursed the Slytherin students, why was it fair they got private dorms, laced in luxury like this?
As you stepped closer to him, the nerves inside you intensified, manifesting as a persistent tremor in your hands. The reality of the situation washed over you anew, your palms clammy, and your heart hammering in your chest. The gentle sound of running water filled the room, its rhythmic flow serving as a reminder of the passage of time, urging you to act swiftly.
Sensing your returning panic, Mattheo veered closer, stopping in front of you as he met your eyes. Time seemingly stalled as he allowed his gaze to travel over your body, taking your clothes from your hands and placing them down on the counter before he met your eyes again, his gaze seeking permission before he reached out, hands finding your waist and tugging down your skirt. His fingers brushed against your bare skin, a touch so delicate yet electrifying that it sent shivers down your spine.
You felt your pulse quicken in response to his confidence and strength, unable to ignore how his movements flowed with ease, how he seemed so bloody in control, just as he always did--his every movement deliberate and reassuring.
You swallowed the jump of anxiety in your throat, unable to deny that being with him created a paradoxical sense of safety amid the chaos. Despite the fact that your life outside these walls was seemingly careening out of control, Mattheo's presence was a grounding force, a steady anchor in the storm.
"Might as well join you, yeah?" He murmured as he began undressing. "You don't seem to do very well under pressure, Raven...I'm worried you'll just stand there all day staring at the floor instead of actually fucking showering."
Your heart raced as you watched him shed whatever was left of his clothes, revealing the entirety of his physique that was utterly mouthwatering, for a lack of better words. His body was a canvas of scars, each one a testament to altercations fought and challenges surmounted. As your eyes traced the lines of his chest, your gaze was drawn to the stories etched onto his skin, mingling with the striking contours of his abs.
His figure was far from flawless, yet it held a raw, captivating beauty that transcended physical perfection. The scars spoke of resilience, and in their midst, his sculpted abs stood as a testament to his enduring strength. A mixture of desire and reverence washed over you, a profound appreciation for the strength that lay beneath his skin. You licked your lips, your body responding to the allure of both his physical form and the unspoken tales written across his flesh.
"Whatever you need to tell yourself, Mattheo..." you whispered, hiding your grin. "Sounds like you just want to shower with me."
Mattheo stepped into the shower, the water running down over his skin, and held out a hand to you. You took his outstretched hand, closing your eyes as he pulled you in close to him under the steaming hot water. The feeling of his skin against yours was electrifying, sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body.
"Of course I do," he whispered, his voice a gentle caress against your cheek. Your entire body tingled as his hands roamed over your back, massaging the knots that had formed there as a result of your stress and anxiety. "I want to do a lot of fucking things with you, Raven..."
"Yeah?" You melted into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as he worked out the tension in your muscles. "Like what?"
"Like kiss you here," he murmured, his lips grazing against your neck. "And touch you here..." his hand slithered down your side, curling around to your ass, gripping a possessive palmful--a low groan escaping his lips as he did. "I want to give you pleasure you've never known...pleasure you'll never forget..."
"Mm." His words filled you with a sense of calm, the comfort of them washing over you like a warm blanket. You leaned into him even more, running your hands through his damp hair, loving the way it felt between your fingers. "You already have..."
"Not enough." Mattheo's muscles tensed against you, teeth nipping your earlobe. "Not even fucking close to enough, princess..."
For a few minutes, the two of you just stood there in silence, letting the hot water wash away the sweat, the tension, the anxiety surrounding the past few weeks. You were lost in the feel of him, the way he moved against you, the sound of his breathing in your ear.
Eventually, though, he pulled back, his hands cupping your face as he looked down at you with an intense expression.
"Listen to me," he said, his voice low and urgent, his dark eyes pouring into yours as though he could give you parts of his own strength, parts of his own resolve. "Everything will be okay, no one is going to find out...and besides, this...this is over...so there's nothing more to be worried about...you're just my tutor after you step out of here, that's it..."
You nodded silently, the weight of his words settling over you. There was a pang of fleeting sadness, a desire for this moment to linger even though you knew it couldn't. Mattheo's arms encircled you, his touch firm, almost protective, as if he was shielding you from something more than hypothetical prying eyes. The reassuring spell that were his words seemed to erase some of the burdens that had weighed you down.
With anticipation hanging thick in the air, the shower head jets pounded against your skin while streams trickled between your bodies. Mattheo, seemingly composed, spun you around and grabbed a cloth, meticulously rubbing a scented soap bar onto the fabric, lathering it with methodical precision. And then, before you could even realize what the fuck was happening, he began washing your body, his movements deliberate and controlled, covering every inch of your skin with his efficient touch.
You closed your eyes, letting your mind drift away as you surrendered to the sensation of his practiced hands, ignoring the complexities that screamed beneath the surface. As he finished washing you, the water cascading down your skin and the scent of the soap permeating the air around you, he pressed his body against yours, wrapping his arms around your waist.
You sighed as he shifted your hair over your shoulder, grazing his lips against your neck as his hard, insistent cock pressed against your back. The sensation of his entirely naked body pressed against yours ignited a heat within you, a fervor you hadn't ever known before. A soft moan escaped your lips as he teasingly nipped at your earlobe, his hands firmly gripping your hips, creating an electric connection that sent shivers down your spine, even amidst the scorching heat of the shower.
"Matty..." you mewled, your head spinning as it fell back against his shoulder, fingers trembling as your hands found his, still tightly holding you against him. "Fuck..."
Mattheo huffed, his hands leaving your hips to roam over your body as you squirmed against him, electricity sparking through your veins and he cupped your tits, kneading the soft flesh, thumbs brushing over your hardening nipples, his breath a hot pant against your ear.
"If you want something, you'll have to ask for it nicely, princess..." he teased, his lips grazing against your pulse. "We said last night was the last time...didn't we?"
"We did..." you let out a breathless laugh, his teasing only fueling the overwhelming heat between the both of you. "But one more time can't hurt, can it?"
Mattheo grinned against your neck, his large, firm hands slowly moving back down to your hips.
"Filthy little thing," he murmured, fingers slipping lower, trailing cautiously between your thighs. "Tell me what you want, Raven..."
You groaned in frustration, your mind clouded with lust as he teased over your mound, one finger brushing against your clit, only briefly, but with enough pressure to send a jolt of pleasure through your limbs, melding your body against his, his cock twitching with need behind you.
"I...I-fuck..." you whimpered, almost embarrassed at how badly you wanted him, your mind sparking with lust for the power of his body. "I want to ride your abs..."
"Fucking hell...just when I think you can't surprise me any fucking further..." Mattheo groaned, squeezing you with enough force to illicit a squeal from your throat, his teeth sinking into your neck and undoubtedly breaking blood vessels before he released you and gripped your wrist, tugging you toward the tiled bench. "Take me...use me, Raven, I'm yours to fucking use..."
His words slammed your chest like a fifty pound brick, your entire body vibrating in place as he released you and turned to lay down, his lean body tensing and muscles rippling with each movement--your thighs screaming in desperate fucking need at the sight of him as he settled there on his back--his thick erection pressing against his belly, his abs glistening with diamond droplets, his eyes urging, daring you to come closer.
"Don't be shy now, little slut..." he teased, brushing his wet curls back from his forehead, that perfect smirk painted across his lips. "Come and fucking get it..."
Your feet carried you closer, lost in the pull of his eyes, climbing up onto the bench, body trembling as you straddled him once again, your heart racing with anticipation. Mattheo's hands immediately moved up to cup your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples until they hardened against his touch. You moaned softly as he played with you, your hips grinding instinctively against his hard, wet body.
With a moan, you began to rock back and forth on top of him, the water cascading over both of you as you moved. Mattheo's eyes were locked onto yours, a dark fire burning in his gaze that sent shivers down your spine.
"Fuck-you're so fucking sexy," he whispered, his hands trailing down your body until they found your hips, aiding you in moving against him. "Look at what I do to you...the power I fucking hold over you and I haven't even fucked you..."
You shuddered at his words, silently acknowledging them in your head, knowing that what you were doing right now was unlike anything you'd ever fucking imagined you be doing, making yourself cum from grinding on his fucking body--ready to reach your high without him even having to touch you. It was a moment of silent realization, forcing you to acknowledge your desires. That's how much you desired this man, that's how much power he held over you. He was right, he was always fucking right. You were helpless to fight it, helpless to resist.
"Fuck..." the pleasure was overwhelming, a tidal wave of sensation that threatened to consume you entirely. You couldn't help but moan loudly, the sound echoing off the steamy walls as Mattheo's fingers dug into your skin, leaving deep red marks in their wake. "Gods, Matty...shit..."
The water fuelled the heat against your skin, steam rising up around you like a lingering ghost. Droplets dripped from your hair, running down your body. Your skin flushed with exertion, all your focus locked on the messy haired, complicated man sprawled out below you, his dark eyes piercing into yours, his gaze darkened with lust and his lips parted in utter fascination.
"Yeah, you like that, baby?" He growled, the muscles in his abs tensing underneath you, intensifying the sensations coursing through your limbs, his hands trailing up your sides. "You like using me like this, don't you? Using me like I fucking used you..."
"Y-yes, fuck..." you mewled, your lungs sputtering as Mattheo squeezed your breast with one hand, the other moving back down to your heat, bringing his fingers to your clit. You moaned, far louder than you intended, head falling back as the world around you slipped away, your only focus being the electric pleasure wrought from the possessed man beneath you. "Gods, I love your abs, Matty...I fucking love your body..."
"Yeah, yeah you fucking do..." Mattheo's voice left his throat in a growl, his movements becoming more precise and focused. His muscles flexed and rippled beneath you as he brought you closer to orgasm. You cried out as the pleasure overwhelmed you, your body shuddering with ecstasy. "Remember this...remember it when some other stupid prat asks you out...remember it when my brother hits on you...remember it when you're alone at night and fucking thinking of me..."
"Oh, fuck...I-I..." whatever you were going to say was abruptly cut off as your orgasm charged you, banging at the door and demanding to be let in, your body trembling and convulsing, eyes rolling. "I'm-I'm going to cum, Matty..."
"Did I say you that you could?" Mattheo hissed, the words spat through barred teeth, his grip on your breast tightening, eliciting another gasp of pleasure from your lips. "You know what I want to fucking hear, princess..."
As his abs tensed beneath you, you felt your body climbing higher towards orgasm. The pleasure within you was unlike anything you had ever experienced, its ferocity almost overwhelming to the senses.
"Oh, Gods," you gasped, voice torn. "Please! Please let me fucking cum, Mattheo..."
"Shit..." Mattheo continued to stroke your clit with expertise, using just the right amount of pressure and speed to keep you on edge and gasping for more. You felt your body shudder and writhe above him, waves of pleasure rippling through you as he brought you ever closer to the brink. "One last time, Raven, cum for me...fucking cum for me...."
As Mattheo's fingers sped their pace, working furiously against your most sensitive spot, your entire body tensed for a few seconds before waves of intense pleasure coursed through your veins, wracking your sanity at its seams.
Unable to comprehend it, you screamed. "Fuck...fuck, yes..."
Every muscle in your body clenched and all thoughts were obliterated from your mind as you were consumed by the delicious sense of release. As your orgasm reached its peak, Mattheo's fingers never stopped their relentless assault, drawing out your pleasure with every passing second. The euphoric sensation radiated throughout your body like ripples in a pond, your back arching and your nails digging into the strong muscles on Mattheo's chest as you rode out your orgasm, collapsing down against him once you had.
"Raven..." he whispered, his voice shredded with desire, hips bucking up against you. "Get on your fucking knees for me."
Your stomach leapt with excitement, not needing a millisecond to contemplate your next actions as you climbed off him and positioned yourself on your knees in front of the bench, warm water cascading around your skin, washing away the remnants of your orgasm as Mattheo rose to his feet, fisting his throbbing cock with one hand while the other gripped your hair, urging your parted lips toward his length, twitching in anticipation and glistening with precum.
His salty taste coated your tongue as he slowly thrust into your mouth, his eyes never leaving yours for a even singular second. You could feel the excitement building within you once again as you began urging your head back and fourth along his shaft, revelling in the feeling of his smooth heat between your lips, savouring the feeling for as long as you could.
Gods, just to have him in your mouth again was enough to grind your thighs together, sore clit swelling for more--groaning, you clutched his thigh for balance, bobbing your head, swallowing inch after inch with every dip of your neck.
"That's it." Mattheo's fingers dug into your scalp, the familiar sweet sting making your eyes water. He surprised you with a sharp thrust, pushing further into your throat, and you wailed--muffled by his length as he drove deeper and deeper. "That's it--fuck--listen to you. You can't get enough of this cock, can you?"
You couldn't respond--he was slamming into your mouth. Tears brimmed your eyes, and you folded your lips around your teeth, sucking hard against him.
He growled and ripped you from his length, holding you by your hair. "Answer me when I ask you a question."
"I-I can't," you whined, shame searing your skin, "it's never enough..."
"That's right, that's fucking right..." he sank into your throat again, hips snapping with fierce, angry strokes. "You're a filthy little slut. Desperate to fucking please me...desperate to be mine, even though you're ashamed to fucking admit it..."
The pulsing at your tongue became desperate, rapid--he was close. You moaned in agreement, hoping it was enough to satisfy him--because, after all, he was right. A wave of shame engulfed you, crashing over your conscience like a relentless storm. How could you possibly want someone so inherently opposite to everything you believed in?
He embodied a carefree, easygoing lifestyle, a man unburdened by the constraints of education or goals. His rough edges and rebellious spirit clashed with your meticulously planned world of ambitions and studies. He was the epitome of trouble, a stark contrast to everything you should have been attracted to. And yet, here you were, time after time, inexplicably drawn to him, your desires defying all fucking logic and reason.
Seething with pleasure, Mattheo's hips thrashed, and he yanked your head free, holding it still while he savagely fucked his fist.
"Beg for my cum." His voice was ragged, he shuddered as he held off his peak. "Beg for it-fucking slut."
You whined. "Please give me your cum, Mattheo, please!"
"Fuck, yes," he hissed, "fuck--"
A deep moan choked in his throat and he sputtered your name, his cock twitching as it shot jets of white cum onto your tongue, the salty taste of his release spilling out over your palate as you swallowed it down greedily, savouring the taste as he held you there, his head bowed and chest heaving in the wake of his climax, until he had seemingly gathered himself and finally released you.
As you pulled yourself up to your feet, Mattheo met your eyes, his breath still coming to him in shallow bursts as he regained his footing in reality. Silence hung heavy between you as you both stepped out of the shower without exchanging another word, the air thick with unspoken emotions and the weight of the agreement you had tacitly made. Another shared glance passed between you, a wordless acknowledgment of the finality of this moment.
Your hands trembled slightly as you dried yourself off, the soft fabric of the towel absorbing both water and the remnants of your shared intimacy. Your mind reeled with the passing moments, how every touch--every movement was laced with a bittersweet awareness, a bittersweet acknowledgement that this was the last time. The last time you'd feel his skin against yours, the last time you'd share a kiss, taste the salt of his lips, among the salt of other things.
Dressing in the quiet aftermath, you fought to steady your breath, grappling with the storm of emotions inside you. It was a struggle to keep your composure, to suppress the ache that had settled in your chest. Each article of clothing you put on felt like a barrier, a shield against the vulnerability that threatened to consume you. Mattheo's presence in the room was both comforting and agonizing. His body, once so intimately close, now seemed miles away. As you caught his eyes for a moment, there was a flicker of something, a mixture of regret and longing, mirroring your own internal turmoil.
This was it. The final chapter in a story you had never intended to write, a tale of passion and connection that had defied the boundaries of reason.
As you reached the door, you spun back around to face him, and your eyes briefly flickered towards an astronomy book seated on his desk--a puzzling sight, since you knew he had little interest in stars, or studying, for that matter. It was a stark reminder of the disparities between your worlds, a tangible representation of the divide that had always existed. Yet, before you could dwell on the thought any further, his voice cut through the air, drawing your attention back to him.
"See you Wednesday…for tutoring," he said, his tone steady and businesslike, as if the intimate moments shared in the shower were but a distant memory.
With a nod, you mustered a weak smile, concealing the storm of emotions within you, and replied, "Yeah, Wednesday."
The finality of his words hung in the air, a reminder that your relationship was now confined to the realm of academia, a reality you couldn't escape. As you made your way towards the door, you stole one last glance at him, the man who had turned your world upside down in the span of a few stolen moments. With a heavy heart, you stepped into the hallway, leaving behind the echoes of what could never be.
————————
Chapter fifteen->
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gyuuberryy · 1 year
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jealousy jealousy
xavier thorpe x reader x tyler galpin
>summary: xavier has been blowing you off for the new girl at your school and you’re fed up  and jealous of it. somehow things lead to you making out with tyler, the barista at weathervane. oh boy, you really need to sort out your feelings.
>warnings: angst, jealousy, mean!xavier, crying, kissing, slight mentions of food
>word count: 1.4k+
>note: hiii, this is my first fic on this app, i hope you’ll like it. this will have a part 2 as well!
part(2)
__________________________________________________________
ever since wednesday addams had arrived at nevermore, something eventful always happened. appearances of a bloodthirsty monster, creepy rumours about wednesday, the  start of a rivalry between bianca and her. and worst of all, your best friend of six years, xavier thorpe, was obsessed with wednesday.
xavier was too busy following wednesday around like a puppy than to even acknowledge you anymore. recently he had been cancelling your plans at the last moment with sorry excuses, ditching you in lunch, ignoring you for days at a time; to sum it up he was blowing you off like you were nothing but a nuisance to him. 
and it hurt, it hurt so much especially since you had recently developed feelings for him and were planning to ask him out to this year’s RaveN. but now it looked like you would never have chance with him. first bianca, now wednesday. ugh, why was your love life so unfortunate.
you were currently on your way to miss thornhill’s botanical science class and were hoping to be able to finally have a talk with xavier as you were his seatmate. thankfully that hadn’t changed as this was the only class you shared with him. but when you reached there, you were disappointed to see none other than wednesday addams sitting in your place, glaring at xavier as if she was forced to sit with him. a pang of hurt went through your chest as you saw the adoring look xavier gave her. so it had finally happened huh? this was the only thing left to do to completely push you out of his life.he had replaced you after all these years of your friendship. he threw it away like it was nothing. he made it clear he didn’t want you around, so you would do the same now.
you stormed past their table and sat at the back. you noticed xavier look back at you but you just ignored him. soon class started and throughout the class bianca and wednesday bickered, which was amusing. wednesday seemed interesting and you know she was not at fault for what xavier was doing to you, so you had no bad blood with her. although, you couldn’t wait to go to weathervane and get yourself a nice cup of coffee.
after class ended, you immediately gathered all your belongings and walked out when a hand latched around your wrist and pulled you to the side. you looked up to be met with a familiar pair of eyes. “xavier?”
he gave you a timid smile, “yeah.”
you freed your arm from his grip and gave him a stony look, “what do you want?” 
he looked confused at your reaction, “well you’re in a bad mood today, what happened?” you scoffed, “what happened is that i’ve felt this way the entire week. you’ve been constantly ditching and ignoring me all because of your weird obsession with wednesday!”
his face screwed up into an angry expression and his stance turned defensive. “oh so you’re jealous now huh.”
you couldn't believe him, “i’m more hurt than jealous that you would start ignoring your bestfriend for someone you’ve known for a month. i don't mind her, but it would be nice if you spent some time with me as well or invited me to one of your hangouts.” you threw your hands in the air, “you’re acting as if i don’t even exist anymore.”
xavier just scoffed meanly at your words, “you’re not my only friend y/n. don’t be so clingy and get a life.”
tears stung your eyes but you stopped yourself from crying in front of him,you weren’t going to show him that his words affected you. “oh yeah? so all this time you’ve only seen me as a clingy, pitiful person.” you glared at him, “and for your comment, i have a life. now you just won’t be a part of it anymore.” he looked distraught at your words.
“and to think i ever even liked you”, you muttered and walked away. 
__________________________________________________________
the walk to weathervane was as gloomy as that day’s weather. hopefully it didn’t rain till you got back to your dorm.
the bells of the cafe jingled as you entered and the smell of coffee invaded your senses sighing, you trudged towards the counter and rang the bell kept on it. immediately a head full of brown curls peeked out of the storeroom. “oh hey y/n!” 
it was tyler, the sweet and cute barista who worked as a part timer at the cafe. yet, somehow he was always present whenever you came. you gave him a weak smile, “hey tyler, can i get an americano with three shots of espresso.”
his eyes widened, “whoa are you okay? that’s a heavy order, you usually get lattes.” you grimaced, “yeah i’m not exactly feeling too happy today. might as well get something strong.”
he gave you a sweet smile, “then i know exactly what will cheer you up. lemme surprise you with something nice, yeah?” you smiled softly at his concern for you and nodded. 
sliding into your favourite booth, you put your head on the table and tried not to recall today’s events, but no matter what you did, they came crashing back at you. how could xavier say all those things to you? all the times that you had been there for him, in his highs and lows, meant nothing to him. he just found you clingy and anno-
“y/n why are you crying?”, tyler’s worried voice broke you out of your thoughts. you looked up and he gasped at the sight of you. tear streaks went down your face and your eyes were red and swollen. you looked miserable. he sat down next to you and pulled you into a hug. you leaned on his chest and closed your eyes, breathing in his sweet scent. 
“what happened?”, his voice came out muffled in your hair. you sighed deeply, “i had a big fight with xavier and he said some really mean words.” tyler rubbed your back soothingly at that. “it’s alright, that happens in every friendship.” you moved away from his hug, still in his arms and looked at him, “but he’s been blowing me off and doesn’t even talk to me anymore.” you ranted, “and i even had feeli-” you stopped when you noticed how close you were to his face. your eyes wandered shamelessly over his face, admiring the moles on the right side of his face, his brown eyes that looked like freshly brewed coffee. and his pink lips. you wondered what it would be like to kiss him. no stop! what the hell were you thinking about?
right at that moment the bells at the entrance door jingled, signalling that someone had entered, you both looked to see who it was. surprisingly, it was xavier and he seemed to be looking for something, or rather someone. his eyes brightened when they locked with yours. and as his hand raised to give you a wave, you gripped tyler’s collar and crashed your lips on his. his eyes widened at your gesture initially, but then slowly closed and he tightened his grip around your waist to pull you closer. his lips moved against yours with the same urgency you put in.
the kiss was messy and fast and your head was clouded with fury and all you wanted to do was show xavier that you didn’t need him, to make him jealous. you opened your eyes to make eye contact with him and relished at how his face was scrunched up in anger. he turned around and walked out, slamming the door. you pulled away from tyler, both of your lips swollen and wet. you grinned cheekily as a rosy blush dusted tyler’s cheeks.
“so, what does this mean for us?”
your smile dropped at his words. shit, you hadn’t thought about it. your motive was making xavier jealous, but you hadn’t considered tyler’s feelings. sure, he was really attractive and sweet. recently he had been there for you more than xavier had. and that kiss did make your stomach swarm with butterflies, maybe that was just the adrenaline. but what about xavier, it’s not like you can suddenly push away your feelings for him.
you needed time to think things through and you were sure tyler wouldn’t mind.
you looked at him to see him staring at you expectantly. “i need some time to think things through, i’m not really in a good state of mind right now.” you smiled at him guiltily.
he nodded, “of course, take your time.” you smiled at him.
“meet me at the crackstone crypt tomorrow evening.”
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hisui-dreamer · 2 months
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😳😳 ace trappola and hibiscuses 🌺 for the bloom event……?? smth smth romance TEHEPERO 🫶 GL W YOUR ASSIGNMENTS RINNA!! EXCITED TO SEE WHATCHU GOT IN STORE
the heart's belonging
Pairing: Ace Trappola x gn!reader
Synopsis: in which ace finds you far too beautiful and can't help getting jealous when others realise that too
Tags: fluff, ace is an absolute teenager, jealously, he's also an absolute simp, basically a beach episode, slight pining
Word count: 680
Notes: thank you for requesting ashi!! you're the first too haha ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ this interpretation comes from malaysia, and i was so inspired by it the fic basically wrote itself haha! i hope you enjoy!!
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flower of choice: hibiscus
It is said that wearing a hibiscus flower carries a special significance: placing the flower behind the left ear signifies "I yearn to encounter love," while placing the flower on the right ear indicates "My heart already belongs to someone".
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Ace believes it's the teenage boy's dream to see their crush in a swimsuit.
What he didn't expect, though, was the surge of protectiveness that washed over him and how much he wanted to hide you from everyone.
He had only been away for less than ten minutes, offering to grab you a bottle of water when you mentioned feeling thirsty. But in that short span, a group of guys had already approached you. The sight of a few guys talking to you makes his blood boil. He quickens his pace, feeling a pang of jealousy rising within him.
"Hey, is everything okay here?" he interjects, his voice steady but his jaw clenched with an underlying tension.
The guys glance at him, sensing his protective stance. "Yeah, just chatting," one of them replies, though they seem to pick up on Ace's annoyance.
Without missing a beat, Ace steps closer, subtly positioning himself between you and the group. "Well, it looks like the conversation's over," he says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
The guys exchange awkward glances before nodding and backing away, clearly getting the message.
With the guys finally dispersing, Ace releases a pent-up sigh, a muttered "Tch..." slipping from his lips as he battles to quell his simmering irritation. Despite the knot tightening in his chest, he extends the bottle of water towards you, a forced smile masking his inner turmoil.
"Thanks," you respond, your eyes fixed on him with a curious intensity as you accept the drink and take a sip.
His gaze remains fixed on you, his mind swirling with thoughts of how alluring you look, now amplified by that damn red flower you plucked earlier, currently tucked behind your right ear. He finds himself entranced by the way the flower accentuates the curve of your cheek, how its vibrant petals seem to echo the flush of your lips.
But he knows that it's not the flower itself that makes you beautiful—it's you, in all your radiant splendour, that leaves him completely spellbound.
"...Aren't you bothered at all by those guys?" he asks quietly, a hint of jealousy evident in his voice.
You chuckle softly, shaking your head. "No," you say thoughtfully. "They're harmless,"
"Harmless?" Ace raises an incredulous eyebrow. "Why?"
"They're not my type."
He pauses, processing your words before curiosity gets the better of him. "... What's your type then?"
You smile knowingly, your fingertips tracing the delicate petals of the hibiscus flower nestled behind your right ear as you tuck your hair in place. With a deliberate slowness, you pivot to face Ace, your eyes locking with his in a gaze so profound that it feels as though it's delving into the depths of his soul.
He finds himself completely mesmerised as the sunlight caresses your skin, casting a radiant glow that seems to highlight your every feature; the gentle breeze tousles your hair, creating a halo of golden strands that frames your face in an ethereal light; the vibrant hibiscus illuminating the clarity of your eyes under the golden rays of sunshine.
He drinks in every detail, every movement, etches itself into his memory, leaving an indelible imprint that he knows he will carry with him long after this day is over.
Your finger playfully jabs his chest, breaking him out of his trance.
"Bleh~" you taunt, your tongue poking out mischievously. "I'm not telling you!" With a teasing grin, you swiftly dart away, leaving him flustered by your evasion.
Before he can gather his thoughts, you're already in motion, leaving him trailing behind. "Wha- Hey, wait up!" he calls after you, his feet stumbling as he hastens to catch up, determined not to let you slip away.
A whirlwind of theories are swirling in his mind, but he is intent on hearing what your type is straight from your own lips.
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dreamwritesimagines · 2 months
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The Eye of the Hurricane [9] - Engagement
A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️
Summary: A marriage decision leads to an honest conversation about expectations.
Word Count: 2700
Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Violence, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, drinking. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.
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For a couple of seconds, he gawked at you in complete silence before he managed to pull himself together.
“You—you’re saying yes?”
“I’m saying yes.”
“Seriously?”
“Please don’t ask me again because I have this feeling that I’ll change my mind if I think about it longer than a second,” you stated and he nodded fervently.
“Right,” he said. “Sure, I…wow. Okay, we’re—we’re getting married then.”
“Don’t say that either, I am not ready to hear it out loud,” you said with a sigh but before he could answer, a soft voice reached you both.
“Bucky?”
He closed his eyes shut for a moment as he scrunched up his face and you turned your head to look at the top of the stairs where a pretty girl in an oversized shirt –his shirt, if you had to guess— was leaning to the steel handrail.
“Hi,” she said. “Um, who are you?”
“His fiancée,” you stated, trying your hardest to ignore the pang of jealousy in your stomach and her eyes widened.
“Oh I didn’t—I didn’t know—”
“Neither did I when I woke up today,” you said with a click of your tongue. “Can you leave us please?”
“Sure!” she said as she rushed back to what you could only assume was the bedroom and Bucky shot you an apologetic look.
“Charm I’m sorry, if I knew…”
You walked past him, looking around the huge living room. Even you had to admit it looked incredibly beautiful and sleek, and the clear view of the city that you could see from the floor-to-ceiling windows was absolutely breathtaking. It was exactly what you would come up with if someone asked you what Bucky's apartment would look like; luxurious yet dark.
It didn’t mean you would tell him that though.
“I’m not moving in here by the way, this place is a dump,” you forced yourself to say, “If I wanted industrial interior, I’d buy myself a factory.”
“Right, sure—”
“That could be a fun project though,” you muttered more to yourself as the girl appeared at the top of the stairs again, and rushed downstairs, grabbing her coat off the rack.
“Sorry again,” she said without looking you in the eye and walked out of the apartment, and you heaved a deep sigh.
“None of this will be happening from now on by the way,” Bucky said in a haste and you rolled your eyes, then turned around to look at him.
“I don’t care about you enough to have that conversation with you,” you said. “I don’t give a fuck who you fuck, but you’re not going to make me look like an idiot in front of other people so when it inevitably happens, you’ll keep it a secret.”
“You don’t have to worry about that at all,” he said, his voice firm and you crossed your arms.
“So then,” you said. “I feel like we should both talk about the conditions before taking it to the families and the lawyers and everything.”
“I’m good with your conditions,” he said and you shot him a glare.
“You don’t even know my conditions.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
You kept your eyes on him, a slight frown pulling your brows together before you took a deep breath and took off your coat to throw it over the couch.
“Either way, I think we should talk about it,” you insisted and leaned on your hip. “So do you have actual booze in here or are you going to pull out a homemade barrel or something?”
He smiled slightly.
“Take a seat sweetheart,” he said. “I’ll bring the wine.”
“And put a shirt on!” you said as you made your way to the table, ignoring the way your heart skipped a beat. “This is a business deal, honestly. There has to be a dress code.”
                                            *
When Bucky came to the table, he did in fact have his shirt on and he was carrying a bottle of wine with two glasses. He filled one and handed it to you, then filled his own and sat down. You took a sip, pleasantly surprised at the taste and lowered your glass, leaning back.
“Alright,” he said. “Tell me your conditions.”
You swirled the wine in your glass, deep in thought.
“Well first of all, we need to have a time table,” you said. “I don’t want to stay married to you for the rest of my life, and I’m pretty sure you share the sentiment.”
A small smile twitched the corners of his lips but he didn’t comment on it.
“But we can’t get a divorce as soon as I take over because that will lead to a lot of questions and I won’t have the time for distractions, the taking over process is chaotic enough,” you said. “I can’t be making any mistakes, especially considering I already have a rival.”
“Calling Ian a rival makes him sound more important than he actually is,” Bucky commented. “But I agree. We already know some of the families can disagree with this idea.”
“Stark?” you asked and he nodded.
“At least,” he said. “We have Steve and Sam’s support, my family and your family of course, but the rest…”
“You think Romanoff would disagree?”
Bucky thought for a moment.
“Probably, but I can talk to Nat I think,” he said. “She’d hear me out.”
“Barton?”  
“Barton is not going to do anything Nat disagrees with,” he said. “If we have Nat, we have Clint.”
“So that leaves us Stark,” you said, pursing your lips. “Who talks to him, you or me?”
He shot you an apologetic look.
“I mean we may try to sell it as love but at the end of the day, everyone will think about the business side of things,” he said. “It could be better if your father talked to him actually. He already dislikes me enough, and we’re changing the power balance in the city by doing this.”
“Alright,” you said. “My dad could do that.”
“Next?”
“I want your word that I will be included in everything,” you said. “None of the bullshit the earlier generation pulled. I will be in every meeting and I will be included in every single decision.”
He nodded. “Yeah, figured as much.”
“I mean it Bucky,” you said, looking him in the eye. “We will be equals completely.”
“We will be,” he assured you. “I swear on my honor.”
“And I’m not changing my surname.”
He threw his head back. “Charm…”
“Out of question.”
“Charm if I’m going to get you into those meetings, you need to have my surname,” he insisted. “You know the rules. We need to give them an actual reason if you can’t be there as an heir.”
You thought for a moment and cleared your throat.
“Hyphenated it is,” you said. “I’ll keep mine and add yours.”
“It’d be better if—”
“I can’t take over my father’s territory if my last name is Barnes,” you pointed out. “I’ll use both, it’s fine.”
Bucky thought for a moment, then licked his lips and shrugged his shoulders.
“Fine,” he grumbled even though his tone signaled it was anything but fine. You sipped your wine, leaning back.
“Goes without saying that we won’t have any children in the meantime so should we even talk about it?”
“I think we should,” Bucky said, a small smile curling his lips. “Just in case.”
“Just in case?” you repeated and he rolled his eyes.
“It’ll be on the prenup just like everything else,” he reminded you. “And our families will see those prenups, so it’d be better if we covered it beforehand.”
You huffed out and waved a dismissive hand.
“Fine,” you said. “The usual, right? The first born is the heir…”
“The second born is the spare, yeah,” Bucky said. “Although, if you’re keeping your surname…”
“Our children would as well,” you finished his sentence for him and let out a dry laugh. “So then, is the firstborn yours or mine?”
“Maybe it’ll be twins,” he joked and you shook your head.
“We’ll say that the firstborn rules both until the second born is ready, and then divide my territory and yours accordingly,” you said and Bucky raised his brows.
“But until then, both territories?” he asked. “That’s a lot of pressure to put on one person.”
“That person doesn’t exist and will not exist,” you reminded him. “It’s just gonna be a hypothetical article in the prenup, that’s it.”
“And if we want a divorce—”
“When we have a divorce,” you corrected him and Bucky hummed.
“Any specific reque—”
“The weekend house,” you cut him off and he let out a small laugh.
“How long have you had your eye on it?”
“Oh, so long,” you said with a grin. “It’s really pretty.”
Bucky held up his hands, gesturing surrender. “It’s yours then."
“I mean I know I can’t just get it without giving something in return so how about you? What do you want in the divorce?”
“Nothing.”
You blinked a couple of times, gawking at him.
“You want nothing?” you asked him. “Bullshit. Say your price.”
“I don’t need anything.”
“You’re going to get me in the business and help me take over and you want nothing?” you insisted. “No fucking way. What is your game here?”
“I don’t have any.”
“Why are you doing this then?” you asked with a frown. “Seriously. What’s in it for you?”
“My reasons are my own.”
“Bucky…”
“But I do have one request now that you mention it,” he said and you nodded your head.
“Yeah tell me. What is it?”
“Throughout the time we stay married,” he said, taking a sip of his wine. “No sleeping with other people.”
“…I’m not going to sleep with you,” you managed to say after a pause and he shrugged his shoulders.
“We’re going into war with an outsider while pushing you to the top,” he said. “Any kind of issue in our marriage, including a whisper of a rumor could work against that. We need to present a united front to all the other families and our people. Can’t fight a war on that many fronts, you know that.”
As much as you hated to admit, as it turned out, Bucky was actually smart when it came to how things worked in business. You nibbled on your lip, trying to put your thoughts in order before sticking your nose in the air.
“That’s a two-way street,” you told him. “If I’m behaving like the perfect wife, you’re going to behave like the perfect husband.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Bucky, I’m serious,” you said, looking him in the eye. “Don’t go behind my back and make me kill your mistresses.”
“Don’t go behind my back and make me kill your boyfriends,” he replied and you took a deep breath, then downed your wine and stretched out your hand.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” you said and he chuckled, then reached out to take your hand into his, sending a pleasant warmth from your hand to your whole body.
“Likewise,” he said, his voice soft. “Let’s make you the queen, princess.”
                                              *
 You and Bucky decided to tell your family about your decision that weekend at their favorite restaurant. It would at least give you some time to get your story straight and you figured it would play into the lie; that you and Bucky had something for each other all along and once you got together you didn’t want to lose any time to get married.
Of course your closest friends were going to know about it, it would be impossible to keep it from Becca, Sarah, Steve and Sam because they’d had the first row to every single fight whenever you were within each other’s sight not to mention heard about how much you two disliked each other for years now.
But as far as anyone else was concerned, it was the happy ending to a decade long crush on both parts.
That night, you decided to stay in a hotel until the weekend. Not only did you not want to talk to Ian or your father, but it would also work in your favor; it was Bucky’s favorite hotel, it was in his territory and he would make sure to stay with you in the honeymoon suit every night until the weekend so you were pretty sure the rumors would reach your families way before you told them.
Your bodyguards were still on your father’s payroll after all.
You sipped your champagne, your feet propped up on the small coffee table across from the couch you were sitting on, the fluffy bathrobe wrapped tight around your body as you changed the channel on the TV but the knock on the door made you turn your head. Heaving a sigh, you pushed yourself off the bed and went to the door, then put a bright smile on your face and swung open the door.
“Finally!” you exclaimed, then gasped at the huge bouquet of roses Bucky was holding. “Oh my God!”
“Hi beautiful,” Bucky said with a smirk and you stole a look at both your father’s and Bucky’s men in the hallway, then turned to him.
“You shouldn’t have!” you giggled as you grabbed his arm to pull him into the suit, and closed the door behind him.
“Flowers are a nice touch,” you commented, the lovesick smile disappearing from your lips even if your heart did a happy flip and Bucky winked at you.
“I’m glad you like them,” he said as you took them from him, then walked to the open kitchen to pour water into the empty wine decanter before putting the flowers into it.
He leaned back to the kitchen island. “Did you talk to Becca yet?”
“Tomorrow,” you said. “I slept the whole day away today, barely did anything. Must be the stress after yesterday.”  
“Is she serious with that girl by the way?” Bucky asked you. “Leila?”
“I’m not going to tell you anything about Becca.”
He tilted his head. “You and I are going to get married—”
“And she’s my best friend so she’s still above you on my loyalty list,” you pointed out. “Marriage is one thing, friendship is another.”
“Should I at least threaten the girl so that she doesn’t break her heart?” Bucky asked and you rolled your eyes.
“No, Leila is a sweetheart,” you said as you walked past him, then threw yourself on the couch to grab the remote. He followed you and rested his hands on the back of the couch you were sitting on, the closeness of his body making your stomach do a pleasant flip for some reason.
“So what are we watching?”
“We are not watching anything,” you said, trying to focus on the screen. “I’m watching The Bachelor.”
He let out a groan. “Seriously?”
“There’s another TV upstairs, go watch whatever you want to watch there,” you said, grabbing your champagne glass again and tilted your head back so that you could look at him, and Bucky shot you a mischievous grin.
“Marriage requires quality time together, Charm.”
“Who told you that lie?” you asked, turning your glances to the TV and he chuckled.
“Steve sent me an article about it today when I told him the news.”
“Not Sam?”
“No, Sam sent me the address of a great psychiatrist,” he said. “For couples therapy and marriage counseling.”   
“That’s much more useful than an article,” you pointed out and he squeezed at your shoulder making your heart skip a beat.
“I’m going to take a shower,” he said as he walked to the hanging stairs and someone knocked on the door, making you frown and look at Bucky over your shoulder.
“Room service,” Bucky answered before you could ask. “I already know your favorite so I ordered for both of us.”
“How do you know my favorite?”  
“I pay attention,” he said as he started climbing the stairs, unbuttoning his shirt. “Don’t open the door yet though, will you? Wouldn’t want my men to think I last five minutes.”
“I’m sure that would be an improvement for you,” you said with a scoff and he tsk tsked.
“If you want to see just how wrong you are, all you gotta do is ask nicely princess.”
“That will never happen!” you called out and slipped a little on the couch when you heard him close the bathroom door, then heaved a sigh.  
“Great,” you muttered to yourself as the water started running. “My honeymoon should be so much fun.”
Chapter 10
311 notes · View notes
morgana-ren · 7 months
Note
I have Dark Urge, Gortash and Astarion jealousy brain rot after that youtube video of them bickering. This is not related to the bickering but I keep thinking it!!!
"I don't remember," You hiss, fighting back the sudden lump in your throat. "I don't remember you, I don't even remember me."
"Still so quick to anger, " Gortash sounds amused as he reaches out, and for some reason you don't make any move to stop him. You don't fear him, in fact deep down there's an almost longing for his touch.
There's a slight flicker of surprise across his face as he cups your chin lightly, slowly stroking his thumb over your bottom lip, his gaze flicking quickly over your shoulder. You don't fight him, but you do fight the sudden urge to lean in to his touch, to open your mouth and brush the tip of your tongue over his thumb. You’re not sure if the shiver down your spine is your own confused arousal or the pulse of jealous anger from Astarion you can feel whispering through your tadpole. Gortash' lips quirk, there's a tiny hint of a smile as he leans in close and that burning pulse in your head turns into liquid fire through your veins. It's overwhelming, and so so confusing. Astarion's thoughts mixing with your own until you feel like you're going to drown in a haze of anger and lust. 
Gortash gaze slips over your shoulder again and you feel a pang of anxiousness at his inattention, but its gone just as fast as he lowers his head and you raise your own instinctively, losing yourself in the need to press your mouth to his. 
"You may not remember me, sweet thing," his nose brushes against yours as his voice drops to a whisper. "But your body does."
Malformed, foggy memories flashbang your brain as he stands so closely that you can smell the brandy and exotic spice on his skin, tugging your heartstrings from some unfathomably deep level within you. It hammers incessantly on the protective shield your mind has placed over your memories of your old life, drawing on something overwhelming and instinctive within you, though you cannot recall what.
It is an urge that makes your heart pound, but unlike the insatiable bloodlust that plagues your every thought, this one demands not only acquiescence, but obedience. Like a dog brought to heel by the call of its master, your breath stoppers in your throat as he leans in, lips brushing sensitive skin, your body anticipating the next move even as you do not consciously recognize what it might be. You salivate as a wolf over carrion, hands trembling in their need to reach forward, to pull him to you with such a force that it topples you both--
"Surely you're aware that not everything the body remembers is a good memory," Astarion speaks from behind you, his voice almost enough to shock you out of the lust-induced spell Gortash has placed you under with unnerving ease. His lips curl upward in a mimic of a smile, and yet it looks all too much like an animalistic snarl: far too much fang to be genuine.
"True that may be, but I'm sure you can feel for yourself that isn't the case here," Gortash offers him a quick and easy grin, bloodshot eyes narrowing only slightly.
Deep shame at the realization that Astarion is privy to the bombardment of desire bubbling within your core. Even as you try to hide it, your legs still quiver, heart rabbiting behind your ribs, trying to lock out the scent that cloys up your nostrils to nestle in your brain to stir up memories better left abandoned.
"Oh, I don't know about that. It seems markedly unpleasant to me."
There is a tense insecurity emanating from him, but buried beneath it, there is anger and the vicious snap of jealousy. It's all terribly foreign to him in the way that even the worm has difficulty translating, and it only makes the situation all the more awkward. You haplessly look back at him in a wordless apology, unable to even find the words to properly convey your feelings.
His eyes don't meet yours, but his hand slithers around your waist, tugging you back towards his chest in a territorial show of dominance, and as he does, there is a subtle flash to Gortash's eyes. Astarion does not let you go, and Gortash does not step back. Neither looks at you any further, but rather at each other.
It's a look you recognize; a hunter sizing up his mark.
"Funny. I remember her being capable of speaking for herself." "She's capable of a lot more than that." "Oh, I remember," Gortash cocks his head, and another pang of lust damn near drags you to your knees. Something burrows through your brain, trying to claw its way out. A half-formed memory, dark and lined in velvet; a gold-laden hand curling around your throat, hips rolling against yours so deeply it hurts, the cry of his name from your lips.
You feel Astarion recoil, his face unmoving as iron but his hand clenching enough to pain. Whatever it was, he saw it.
"Yes, well, all in the past, hmm?"
"The future is yet to be written," Gortash arches a brow, his gaze once again drawn down to yours. "Personally, I prefer an authoring hand in my own destiny."
569 notes · View notes
emotionoitme · 10 months
Text
under the moon
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carmy berzatto x reader
final part of about a girl
masterlist
warnings: drinking & drug use (marijuana), carmy being mean, clubbing, jealousy, so much dirty talk, bdsm dom/sub undertones, oral sex (f receiving), spanking, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, choking, lots of cursing as usual
wc: 9.2k
a/n: i am so excited for you all to read this. & sorry for the slight delay, it took me a bit longer than expected to finish! thank you so so much for your continued support on this series! i genuinely never thought people would like it so much🥺 enjoy!
foster the people - under the moon
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she had begrudgingly awoken the following morning, head feeling as if it were stuffed with cotton, eyes swollen and sore. the bright morning light streams through her open blinds, soaking the room in warm sun. she groans, throwing the duvet over her completely, praying her bed would open up into a sinkhole and swallow her completely. she snakes her arm out, reaching around the nightstand for her phone, pulling it back in. she had overslept about an hour, meaning she would have to heavily compromise on her morning routine and practically sprint to work if she wanted to make it on time. she considered it shortly, but ultimately pulled up her contacts app on her phone, opting to call in sick. she scrolls, the first option being carmy. she wanted so badly to hear his voice, yet her stomach drops at the thought of him, so she quickly scrolls past the contact to find sydney’s number instead. the girl hesitates for a moment, before dialing, a point of deliberation deep within her. she wanted to be as far as away from the man as she could possibly be, the thought of his mere face bringing her a feeling of anguish. on the other hand, she wanted to bear witness to his demeanor— reassure herself that he’s as affected as she is over last night’s encounter. 
he’s probably fine, she thinks to herself, lips twisted into a frown, he’s the one who didn’t want to keep it going. she tries to push the thought away, a hot pang of regret seeping through her body. she burrows deeper into the safety of her bed, tapping the icon next to syd’s contact, bringing the phone to her ear. the line rings, once, twice, three times, then a click. 
“hello?” she hears at the other end. 
“hey, syd,” she greets, groggily, “um, i'm sorry to do this to you guys, but i can’t come in today,” she explains, clarifying, “im sick, my stomach really hurts.” it was a white lie, told out of self preservation, knowing if she saw carmy’s face she surely would feel sick. she hears sydney take a breath. 
“uhh, yeah, that’s fine. we should be fine,” she assures, continuing to ask, “are you still gonna come out with us tomorrow night?” syd pushes a piece of silverware neatly into place, finishing the last table as she watches her business partner come out from the kitchen, walking towards her. 
“tomorrow night?” the girl questions, flipping her duvet off her head for oxygen. 
sydney chides her name, “tomorrow night, tina’s birthday? drinks, dancing, i’ve been telling you about it since last thursday?” glancing at her coworker, curious about who she’s talking to. sydney mouths the girl’s name to him, carmen then gesturing to ask for the phone. 
“yes, syd, thank you! i will be there. i’m sorry i’ve been so scattered this week,” she replies, sitting up out of bed. 
“you’re fine, we can unwind tomorrow,” sydney replies, mouthing “okay, okay,” to the persistently gesturing man, “here, let me put you on with carmy,” she replies, going to hand the phone to the man. 
“no!” the other line interrupts, more frantic than she meant to sound, met with silence. “i mean,” she tries to backtrack, “i don’t want him to worry about me. don’t put me on,” the girl stumbles out. 
“welll, he’s saying that he wants to talk to you… so, i don’t really have much of a choice, okay, bye!” the chipper girl quickly tells her. 
fuck, she mentally exclaims, i should’ve just gone in if i was gonna have to talk to him anyways. 
she hears her name through the line, tone questioning, as carmy takes the phone from syd. 
“hi,” she responds to his beckon, quietly. 
“you’re calling in?” he asks, holding a finger up to syd, walking towards the back office for some privacy. she tightly closes her eyes, finding her words. 
“i, uh, don’t feel good,” she responds, tone shakier than she had anticipated. the line goes silent for a minute, the girl mindlessly fiddling with a loose thread on her comforter. 
“are you avoiding me?” comes his question, catching her slightly off guard. 
“no, carmy” she quickly defends, “i don’t feel well.”
“what’s wrong?” he asks, taking a seat in his office chair. 
“my, um,” she hesitates, “my stomach hurts.” 
he’s not sure he believes her, leaning back in the chair and running a hand over his face.
“okay,” he concedes, letting out a sigh, “just, uh, take it easy today then.” he hears her hum in agreement, pausing before continuing. 
“are you going to that club tomorrow?” carmy asks her, “for tina’s birthday?” 
she dangles her legs over the edge of the bed, mindlessly kicking back and forth. 
“are you?” she asks, eager to skip out on anything besides shutting herself safely inside and maybe putting her fingers to good use to prove carmen nonessential, the memories of his touch flooding her mind incessantly. 
“i think i have to,” he responds, “i already told syd i would,” his eyes glancing back towards the open office door. she softly smiles, knowing she was in the same boat. 
“okay,” standing and walking to her closet, looking for a  club-suitable dress, “i’ll go too, then,” a small smirk in her tone. he can’t fight the smile that breaks his face, eyebrows raising slightly. 
“carmy, my phone?” he hears from the hallway, a reminder of his surroundings, his time talking with the girl running short. 
“yeah!” he yells back to the hallway, “hey, uh, feel better today, okay? i’ll see you tomorrow night,” carmy tells the girl, watching sydney walk into the office. 
“thanks, carm. bye,” she responds, the call ending shortly thereafter. she had felt slightly guilty abandoning her shift, all for the purpose of not having to be tortured with his presence, a reminder of what had transpired the previous night. their casual encounters had quickly morphed into something else within her brain, feeling a deep sense of affection towards the man, chastising herself because she had worried about this and continued anyways. 
she makes her way to the bathroom, splashing cold water over her face, the morning chill seeping through her bones. would it be so wrong for them to keep seeing each other? they were consenting adults—albeit boss and employee— both previously oblivious to the profound magnetism of their natural connection. she wanted to pursue things with him further, increasingly affected by his caring words and gestures, no longer being able to deny the twinge in her chest she gets when picturing his face. 
but she knew he didn’t want the same. 
why would he? she thought, it isn’t what he signed up for. he seemed focused on his work, like he would have limited time for a relationship.
she opted to get a few chores done around the house, taking advantage of the day off, sticking on the thought of him, though, finding herself looking through her closet for a dress with him in mind. 
the space is hot, crowded, alive with movement. tickets pour from the printer one by one. 
“it goes to four cousin, for the third time,” carmy scolds, “stop fucking with the tickets already,” hands busied with removing a large pot from the burner. 
“hold on, i’m fixing them,” richie argues back, clutching a mess of paper. 
carmy paces to the walk in refrigerator, grabbing a large container and making his way through the sea of bustling employees, checking on stations. he was running on fumes, only getting a solid three hours of sleep the previous night, plagued by a swarming head and uneasy stomach.
it’s best this way, he tells himself over again, easiest, hoping that if he repeats it enough times it will start to feel true. 
“alright send these out to six, please,” he hears from the front of the kitchen, glancing over at the expo, seeing the recently plated entrees. 
“fuck, richie, four!” carmen snaps, his hand flying out. 
“jesus, alright, four!” richie yells, widening his eyes, shaking his head, continuing. “calm down, carm, she’ll be back thursday,” a snicker on his face 
carmen freezes in his spot, skin beginning to burn. his eyes dart to richie, jaw twitching. 
“shut the fuck up,” he bites, venom in his tone, trying to push himself further into his work to outlet the growing frustration. he hears the other man chuckle knowingly, glancing at carmen. 
“okay, sore spot!” richie pokes, organizing the last few tickets, smile on his face. the chef doesn’t reply, beginning to quickly chop vegetables, unsure of what would slip off his tongue if he opened his mouth. 
it was unclear to him why he was unable to regulate himself when it came to someone even mentioning her, figuring it was temporary, and would slowly dissipate once they had some distance from each other. carmy deeply exhales, glancing at the clock, counting down the hours until he would be able to see her again. 
it was incredible how fast days would slip by when she didn’t have to go to the restaurant, taking care of domestic matters and recharging from the strenuous week so far, not thinking of carmen.
she goes to sleep that night wearing his clothes, arms wrapped around herself as if the sensation could ever come close to his touch, waking the next morning to eagerly check a phone empty of notifications. on her second day off she works on assignments for her classes, calls an old friend and grabs herself lunch from a bagel shop nearby. upon returning home she grabs a pair of earbuds and spends a few hours outside in the sunlight, mending the cracks in her heart, falling asleep on her balcony sofa and letting the sun kiss her better. the light of the afternoon seeps into the evening, painting the city in a soft yellow blanket, the girl slowly blinking awake. she watches a few cars drive by, a warm breeze shifting the trees, slowly sitting up and stretching, checking the time on her phone. she has a few hours to get ready before meeting everyone for drinks, her body relaxing at the confirmation. her eyes glance down past the time, seeing two new messages on her screen. 
carmy: 416 s clark street
carmy: do you need a ride?
she unlocks her phone, staring at the gray bubbles for what seems like an eternity, fingers hovering over the keys. she begins to type a response, “no. gonna walk,” then quickly deletes it, knowing he would insist on driving her.  
why is he trying to be so nice still?
she feels a twinge of irritation, quickly shutting off the phone, opting to not reply to his message. he was a hard man to understand, his actions contradicting his words more often than not—declaring the two finished, then continuing to pursue contact, referring to them as a “no strings” relationship and then calling her baby and sweetheart. it was confusing more than anything, beginning to take an emotional toll on the young woman. she felt incredibly tense the past few days, mind prickling with anxieties and insecurities, desperate to feel some type of release. 
fuck him, she thinks, standing and opening her sliding glass door, going inside, i’m gonna forget about it tonight. she stalks to her closet, i’m gonna find a hot stranger and just dance, pulling out a short, skin tight club dress and holding it in front of herself, facing the mirror. she wanted him out of mind completely, settling with trying to replace his touch with someone else’s tonight no matter how much her heart objected. she puts music on, setting the dress on her bed and undresses, studying herself in the mirror for a moment before making her way to the bathroom and turning on the shower. she takes a long while to let the hot water to melt onto her skin, cherishing the white silence of the shower head. the young woman takes her time getting ready, piecing herself back together with an extensive routine. once she’s in a robe with her hair wrapped up she walks to the fridge, grabbing a seltzer with alcohol to ease the slight oncoming nerves. she meticulously does her makeup and styles her hair, shamefully wondering if carmy would like how she’s dressed up, checking her phone to see it’s time to head over. dropping her robe and zipping into the dress she had picked out for the night, the girl examines her reflection, admiring the work she had put in. she looked hot, turning to the side and checking out her profile, curves accentuated by the tight fabric. satisfied, she mists herself with perfume and grabs her heels and purse, walking to the door. she swings the heavy metal barrier open to reveal a tepid july night, air thick with moisture. she balances against the frame, slipping into her heels and sliding her purse strap over her shoulder, stepping into the dusk of the evening and letting the door lock behind her. she glances at her phone for walking directions, head slightly fuzzy from the seltzer she had drank on an empty stomach. her short walk to the club garners many gawking stares from passerby’s, surprisingly not making her feel as small as they usually seem to, the goal was to catch eyes tonight, right? 
she squints, identifying bright flickering lights in the distance, the border of the club’s sign. there were a few people dispersed outside, all either smoking or talking on the phone, or both. she brushes her hair back, walking towards the entrance when she hears her name called from behind her. 
“- yo!” turning to see marcus and angel leaning against the brick wall of the establishment. she smiles, turning and walking towards them, the distinct odor of marijuana arising from the cigarette marcus clutched in between his thumb and pointer. 
“hi,” she grins, tilling her head slightly. 
“hey,” the two respond, almost in synchronicity. marcus holds the rolled paper to her, “want some?” 
she smiles, plucking it from his fingertips and bringing it to her lips, deeply inhaling to soften the inevitable drop her stomach would endure at the sight of carmen. the ember burns quickly, and she’s surprised at the harshness. 
she hands it back with a slow exhale, thanking marcus. 
“nervous?” angel chimes in, trying to hide a smile. the girl pauses for a moment, is it so obvious? 
“i haven’t been to a club in a while,” she responds, crossing her arms. it was partially true, but she knew the real reason for the relentless fluttering in her chest. 
the man stubs the filter onto a nearby trash can, dusting his hands off on his pants. “you guys ready to go in?”
the other man affirms, pushing himself off the wall and turning to walk to the front. the girl stays behind, hesitating. 
“you two go ahead. i’m gonna air out,” she responds, leaning back, basking in the slight breeze. the men both crack a smile before walking together to the entrance, leaving the girl in her solitude. she closes her eyes for a moment, deeply inhaling the night air, listening to the reverberation of bass through the walls of the club. she feels a cloud of haze overwhelm her, the mixture of substances seeping through her in a warm glow. she hears footsteps approach. 
“hey.”
her eyes snap open, breath escaping her at the sight of carmy. he looked polished, buttoned up into a dress shirt, hair fluffy and face cleanly shaved. she nearly salivated at his presentation, the buzz she felt complicating her decision to ignore him. 
“hi,” she shortly responds, lip slightly pouted, watching as his eyes examine her, floating down her form. he snaps his eyes away, clearing his throat. 
“you, uh, get my text?” 
she nods, looking up to him, meeting his eyes with unwavering contact. he walks closer to the girl, slightly shaking his head and furrowing his brow in confusion, an unspoken gesture to elaborate. 
she looks away, arms wrapping around herself. 
“i didn’t need a ride,” she answers, “i walked.” 
carmen’s jaw visibly tightens, feeling a twinge of irritation. 
“yeah. uh, i asked because i didn’t want you walking here alone,” he explains in a slightly frustrated tone. 
“yeah, well i made it,” she retorts, aggravation bubbling beneath the surface, “so you don’t need to worry about it.” 
she didn’t know why he was getting under her skin so easily tonight, her throat suddenly feeling hot and tight, raking her eyes over the top of his chest exposed by an open button.
“well i do,” the man argues, “i don’t want you walking by yourself. anywhere,” he solidifies in a stern tone. the girl lets out a scoff. 
“you’re acting like you’re my boyfriend,” she spits, fed up with the sense of entitlement he felt over her. 
“i’m not your fuckin’ boyfriend,” he quickly asserts, tone ringing out much harsher than he intended. 
she knows this to be a fact, but still can’t help the drop she feels in her chest when he says it aloud like that. she opens her mouth to say something, then quickly closes it, biting her lip, eyes darting to the ground. he instantly regrets saying it, brushing his fingers through his hair, grabbing it, studying the girl’s dejection with a pit in his stomach. 
“whatever, carmen,” she dismisses, shoving past him. her lungs felt tight, eyes burned, mentally cursing herself, rushing to the club entrance to distance herself from the man. she shoves the door open, immediately being engulfed by sound and swarming bodies. she blinks back a few tears, deeply inhaling and exhaling, zoning into the environment. spotting the group of her coworkers at a corner table, she shufflles through the crowd to approach them. syd immediately spots the girl, calling out to her and waving. she plasters on a smile as the rest turn to watch her, all unanimously greeting the new arrival. she makes her way over to tina, hugging her and giving her a kiss on the cheek, wishing her happy birthday. she squeezes into her seat in between sydney and richie, turning to the tall man to ask, “so where’s my drink?”
richie lets out a boisterous laugh, throwing an arm around the girl.
“i don’t think you’re gonna have much of a problem getting drinks tonight, sweetheart,” he teases, as carmy approaches the table, receiving welcomes and pulling out a chair to sit. she flickers her eyes over to carmen to find he’s staring at her, quickly tearing them back away and leaning over to syd. 
“come get a drink with me. i really need it,” she pleads, placing her hand on sydney’s forearm. the other girl agrees, the two sliding out from under the table and making their way to the bar, arms linked. 
why did i say that? 
he watches her rush to the front entrance, his body frozen, processing the conversation. 
why did i say that?
he begins to go after her, reaching his arm out before she swiftly maneuvers the door open, slipping inside. 
why the fuck did i say that?
it wasn’t completely untrue— he wasn’t her boyfriend— something he had failed to make entirely made clear before that point. he wasn’t oblivious to the way they had grown closer, either, the thought of her nestled deeply within a sweet spot in his heart. yet he had done nothing to prevent it from happening, and once thinking of it, he finds he’s only ever done the opposite, his behavior towards the girl falling far closer to a boyfriend than a hookup. he begins following in her footsteps, opening the club door and immediately becoming overwhelmed with the number of people crowding the floor. carmy cranes his neck, watching her figure weave through the crowd and towards a corner table. he pushes through the wall of people, seeing her take her seat, approaching the table to receive greetings from his coworkers. his eyes are trained on her, wrapped into richie’s arm, smiling until she locks eyes with him. then it drops, slightly. it makes him feel sick. he turns to fak at his right and engages in conversation as he watches her rise from the table alongside sydney. she looks like a model of some type, he thinks, with dark makeup defining her striking eyes and hair tousled over her shoulder, tight black dress riding up over the skin of her thighs. he trails down her face to her neck. when she moves her hair behind her ear he can see a small purple mark left from his teeth, eyes fully fixated on the spot. the bass of the music thumps, reverberating through the club, floorboards shaking. he tries to keep up in the table’s conversation whilst simultaneously keeping a close eye on the girl, shifting to see her order at the bar through the moving bodies. she throws a shot back, grimacing at the taste, laughing while saying something to syd (he was never very good at reading lips) and raising her hand to flag the bartender once more. the table bursts into laughter, carmen’s eyes drawing back to his coworkers, watching as tina shoves richie’s hand with a smile on her face, rolling her eyes. he feels an inclination to step outside for a smoke, head buzzing with stimulation from the lively environment, wondering how long he should stay before it would be acceptable to leave. 
“oh my gosh, thank you baby,” he hears tina say, glancing over to see the girl having returned from the bar, placing a fruity drink in front of the woman. 
she smiles, returning to her seat as the current song ends, fading into the next. sydney and the girl gasp in tandem at the distinctive opening, locking eyes with each other and grinning. 
“we’re gonna go dance!” the girl excitedly calls, taking syd by the hand and navigating towards the dance floor, crowded with moving bodies. it’s hot, but fluid, the two girls beginning to move together, grinning. carmen watches her, eyes cutting through the crowd. she moves her hips, bringing her hands up her body, flashing lights illuminating her in colors. the sight was hypnotic almost, eyes trained on her, tense in his seat. she throws her hair back, circling her body, closing her eyes. 
richie leans over to him, “you, uh, sure she did just bartending over at ricky’s?” elbowing him slightly. 
carmen doesn’t respond, eyes fixated on her gyrating movements, jaw tensing, painfully aware of all the eyes she’s gathered around the club. she continues dancing after the first two songs, even when sydney makes her way back to the table in need of rest. carmy tried to not make it so obvious he was watching the girl, grateful some of his other coworkers had joined the crowd on the dancefloor, completely entranced by her movement. he tears his gaze away, standing up find the bar, eager to ease the incredible tension he felt pent up within him. she seemed to be having fun dancing, and in a way it felt refreshing to watch the girl so loose and carefree. carmy couldn’t help the sense of possessiveness he felt, though, watching her move like that, seeing the way other men looked at her, like meat. it made him sick. 
he orders a beer once the bartender makes their way over, song fading into the next. he turns to lean against the counter, eyes searching for her as he brings the bottle to his lips with a long swig. he feels a pang in his chest, as he finds her, hand on another man’s arm, leaning to whisper something in his ear. he closely watches as the man smiles, nods, placing his hands on her hips and getting closer to her. carmen’s skin immediately becomes hot, teeth clenching, taking a deep breath through his nose to try and calm himself. 
what the fuck is she doing? 
his eyebrows furrow, watching as she dances, bringing her arms up, turning, moving against the stranger. he feels physically sick, stomach churning at the way this man was touching her navel, hips, pressing himself to the back of her. carmy tightly grips the bottle, unable to rip his eyes away, the girl glistening in the light. she throws her head back against the man’s shoulder, hair draping over him, grinding to the music. her eyes find carmen’s quickly, intentionally locking gazes as she brings the strangers hands higher, up her waist, ribs, her mouth falling opening. carmen stands, knocking the barstool off balance with the force of his movement, shoving through the crowd, disregarding the dirty looks, quickly making his way to the dance floor. he grabs the girl’s wrist, pulling her from the stranger’s grasp, tightly gripping her as he walks towards the back door, dragging her behind him, feeling the struggle of her arm as she tries to pull away. he turns, putting a hand on her lower back, ushering her through the club, shoving the heavy metal door open and bringing her outside, finally letting go when the two are far from the door. he brings a hand to his hair, grabbing, turning to face the girl. 
“what the fuck, carmen?” she yells, ripping her hand away from him, “what’s your issue?” her words slightly under-enunciated. 
he bites down on his lip, meeting her eyes, hand coming to his hip. he hardly had an explanation for the girl, driven by a redhot primal jealousy, blood boiling at the sight of someone else’s hands on her, grabbing, feeling her like that. 
“what’s my issue?” he scoffs, “why the fuck were you dancing like that?” his face reddening, pulse quickening. she lets out a laugh, leaning back against the wall, gazing up at him. 
“why?” she asks, “are you jealous?” 
he shakes his head, unconsciously stepping closer to her.
“i’m not jealous,” he argues, jaw set firmly, eyes casting down onto her. 
“yeah?” she leans forward, further closing the distance between them. he nods, fixated on the droop of her eyes, the part of her lips, the way she looked up at him through her dark lashes. 
“so what if i fuck him?” she asks softly, a smirk playing on her lips, “will you be jealous then?” 
he lets out a breath, fire growing at her words.
he shakes his head, “you’re not gonna fuck him,” asserting with confidence. she tilts her head, alcohol emboldening her. 
“how do you know?” she challenges, well aware of how affected she was by his tone, his demeanor, the look in his eyes. carmy gets closer to her face. 
“because he’s not gonna fuck you like i do,” his voice deep, low, eyes boring into hers with an intensity that lights her core ablaze. the girl finds her breath hitches, mouth going dry, gaze flickering to his lips. he rests his hand on the brick behind her, leaning closer, “hear all those pretty sounds you make.” 
she shuts her eyes tightly, trying to shake her senses of the overwhelming lust she felt. she was supposed to stay angry at him, he was being an asshole. maybe it was the alcohol or the drugs, or the way he towered over her, but she felt no anger, only replaced by want, a slick ache growing at the way he seems to claim her for himself. she takes a deep breath, body feeling as if it were buzzing, head cloudy. 
“you are so fucking confusing,” she whispers, bringing her forehead to lightly touch his. he rests his hand on her lower back, relishing in the warmth of the contact, breathing in her scent. she was completely right about him, he thinks, never saying what he really means to her. if he could have what he really wanted, she would be his, only his. a girlfriend. 
“yeah,” he takes a shaky breath, “yeah. i know,” reply coming, hesitantly. “i’m sorry, -” he breathes out, her name sounding sweet on his tongue. she blinks away the tears that want to form, grabbing the fabric of his shirt, a small tremble of the lip. she opens her mouth to say something, eyes tearfully meeting his. 
the metal door creeks open, momentarily releasing the booming music out into the alleyway, breaking the trance as a few smokers congregate by the back. the girl changes her mind, mouth shutting. she releases his shirt, pulling away, stepping around the man and smoothing her appearance, pads of her fingers coming to dry a few escaped tears. he watches her try and compose herself, shivering in her small dress. his heart clenches, feeling the overwhelming need to take care of her— wrap his arm around her, lead her back to his home, dress her in more of his clothes and watch her fall asleep. he shrugs off his light jacket, walking over to her and draping it over her shoulders without saying anything. she glances up at the man, engulfed by his warmth and the smell of him, ache in her chest. 
“i’m gonna go home,” she whispers, swaying slightly. 
“let me walk you,” he offers, hand coming to her upper back. she quickly shakes her head, taking a step away from him. 
he sighs at her stubbornness, says her name. 
“you’re drunk,” he observes, “let me make sure you get there okay.” 
she hiccups, crossing her arms. 
“ ‘m not drunk,” she slurs unconvincingly. he nods, letting out a breath, hand coming to rub his face. 
“okay,” he concedes, “then, just… go back in with me for a sec. say bye to everyone.” 
she meets his eyes, consideration running over her features, then nodding slowly. he puts his hand on the small of her back, steadying her as they walk back towards the large metal door. there’s a noticeable change in temperature difference as the two enter the club again, weaving through a sea of moving bodies, carmy holding tightly onto her, ushering her forward towards the corner table. he doesn’t miss the glances from his workers at the sight of the girl wearing his jacket, a few smiles cracked, looks exchanged. he ignores it, picks his beer back up as the girl excuses herself from the event, claiming to not feel good and chalking it up to drinking too much when she usually doesn’t partake. richie, surprisingly, says nothing, eyes trained on carmen, smirk plastered over his face. 
“i’m gonna head out too,” carmy announces, “take her home.” 
richie begins loudly laughing, clapping his hands together. 
“jesus christ, i am right about everything!” he shouts, slamming his glass down onto the table. carmen’s skin begins to prickle with embarrassment. 
“hey richie,” he chimes, “shut the fuck up.” he felt unbearably tense tonight between the day’s grueling shift, the girl dancing on another man, the newfound teasing, as if he were about to implode. he was in desperate need of some sort of release. carmy watches her, tightly clad fabric stretching over her ass as she leans down to give tina a hug. he felt guilty, almost, the way he had been shamelessly gawking at her throughout the night, the act doing nothing but intensify the burning he felt bottled up within him. 
“i’m sorry i’m leaving so early, t,” he hears from her mouth, “i don’t feel very well.” 
the older woman brushes the apology away, placing a kiss on the girl’s cheek. 
“feel better, baby,” she coos, looking to carmen, “jeff, you make sure she gets into bed okay,” the command motherly in tone. he nods, coming to give tina a side hug, “ ‘night, t. happy birthday.”
the sidewalk pavement was in dire need of repair, cracks and bumps literally the surface, worsening the walk for people who weren’t drunk. she stumbles over a divot, instinctively grabbing onto carmy’s arm for balance, heels catching on every small crevice. she lets out a cry of frustration, stopping in her tracks. 
“this is impossible,” she exclaims, reaching down to adjust the strap of her heel, “why don’t they fix this stupid street?” 
he can’t help the way the corners of his lips twitch upwards. she was cute, even in her frustration. he crouched, slightly, leaning over, arms out. 
“c’mere,” he tells her, “jump up.” 
she falters, trying to retain independence in her drunken stubbornness, but ultimately accepts, the other option being continually tripping over herself for another mile. she puts her hands up on his shoulders, using him as leverage to boost herself up, his arms coming to wrap around the backs of her thighs. he hears her squeal, slightly, feeling as she pulls the short dress down to cover the curve of her ass. the man grits his teeth, shaking the mental image of it as he tightly grips the supple skin of her upper thighs. she’s easy to carry, surprisingly so, as he continues walking in the direction of her apartment building. a silence settles between the two of them, breaths falling in line with the gentle rhythm of his steps. she wraps her arms around him further, bringing her head to rest on his shoulder, exhale tickling his neck. he clears his throat, glancing back at the girl, seeing her closed eyes. 
“i, uh,” he hesitates, gathering his thoughts, “i fuckin’ hated seeing that guy touch you,” the confession slipping off of his tongue. he feels her smile slightly against his neck. 
“i knew you would,” her reply comes softly. he lets out a small scoff, humored by what she admits. 
“you’re a brat,” he asserts lowly, pressing his fingers into her skin. she splays her arms out, pushing her chest against his back, hand coming to rest on his bare collarbones. 
“you were being a dick,” her words ringing truthfully, resounding throughout the man, feeling a pang of guilt. 
“yeah. i know,” he agrees, eyes fixed forward, “i’m sorry.” carmen lets a cloud of silence engulf the two before vocalizing again. 
“you know, i… really do wanna be with you,” he admits gently, soul bared. she pauses, soaking in his words, feeling almost as if a puzzle piece had been pushed into place. 
“why not?” her question comes soft, sweet. he lets out a deep breath. 
“you know why,” he quietly replies, the street lamps casting their two shadows as one. she does know why, aware of the sly glances the two received, apparent judgment surrounding a relationship with the power imbalance of theirs. 
“well, i quit then,” she pouts, lips brushing against his skin, erupting him in goosebumps. he shakes his head. 
“you can’t,” comes his rejection, “we need you,” expressing the fact with utmost sincerity. she hugs her arms around him tighter, smelling his cologne, his soap, a faint trace of cigarette smoke. 
“i don’t care,” she protests in all of her stubborn glory, “i wanna be yours, carm.” 
he feels himself surrender at her words, pulling her even closer. 
“you’re mine,” he assures her, glancing back to meet her eyes, nodding, feeling warmth as if a bright light glowed from his chest. they can figure out the details later— he genuinely didn’t want her to quit, trying to remind himself it was the only way their relationship would be ethical. the man slows in pace as they approach the front of her building, letting the girl hop down, holding his hand out to steady her once her feet make contact with the ground. she gives a small smile, intertwining her arm with his, hand coming to rest on the mass of muscle as the two make their way to her building. she clutches onto him in her inebriated state as they scale the tall stairs leading up to her door. she fumbles with her keys, eventually unlocking the deadbolt and pushing the door open. she turns to face him, giving him sort of a puppy dog look, hoping he’ll want to follow her in. a smile breaks his face, studying her expression. 
“i, uh, gotta make sure you get in bed okay,” he reminds her, gesturing inside. she grins, taking his hand, pulling him inside and shutting the door. the space was illuminated with strung lights, warm in hue, mystifying the room. he takes a deep breath, wrapped in her intoxicating scent, eyes scanning the room. he primarily notices how pristine it is, cozy, fragments of her soul framed over the walls and resting on shelves. it felt like a home, more than his ever has. she sets her keys and purse on a side table, kicking off her heels and sighing in relief, trudging to the kitchen to retrieve two glasses of water. when she hands it to him he can’t help but stare, focusing on her face, the ache for her insurmountable to anything he’s ever wanted before. he sets the glass down, hand coming to her lower back, deeply looking into her, past her beauty and towards her essence. he watches as her eyes flicker down to his lips, quickly coming back to meet his gaze. he’s in awe of her, almost, bringing both hands to the small of her back, squeezing her slightly, pulling her to him with ease. she lets out a breath at the action, hand coming to his forearm, feeling the flex of his tendons. he wants her all to himself, he thinks, leaning in towards her, raising his hand to cup the side of her face. she leans into the touch, turning, pressing a kiss to the base of his thumb, bringing her other hand to rest on his, biting the skin. he grasps her face at this, shoving his thumb into her mouth. 
“suck,” he commands, voice low, watching in anticipation as she brings her lips around the digit, tongue circling eagerly, trying to take more of it into her mouth. he nearly falls apart at the sight, twitching, pulling her flush against him, dragging his thumb out of her mouth and over her bottom lip. he drops his hand to touch her neck, watching her lips, hearing his heart pound in his ears. she brings her grip to clutch onto his shirt, heavily breathing. he cherishes her expression, cheeks flushed and lips parted, glistening. carmen tightens his hand around her throat very slightly, leaning in to taste her, his lips gently pressing against hers, hearing her moan at the unexpected contact. she’s sweet, soft, eager, the slightest trace of alcohol on her lips. he hadn't realized how much he had been craving her taste until it graced his tongue, feeling almost as if a tension in him had alleviated. he wants more, tattooed fingers wrapping around her neck, pulling her into him, deepening the kiss. she melts into him, trying to keep up with the ferocity of his kiss, pushing her tongue into his mouth. he groans, bringing his hand from her back to the curve of her ass, feeling, squeezing, pulling her in. he takes his hand off her throat, her leg slightly lifts, and he takes the opportunity to hoist it up over his hip, turning and pressing her into the counter, weight of his body against hers. it feels as if something had snapped within him, wanting to claim her all to himself, grabbing whatever he can of her, getting as close as possible, lips, tongues dancing in tandem. he presses a few slow kisses to her mouth, pulling away, forehead coming against hers, eyes shut. he listens to the sound of their breath, hand on her ass, fingers teasing the hem of her panties. she arches into his touch, body tingling, hot with desire. his hand comes up, then flies back down to smack her ass, the girl takes a sharp breath, firmly gripping it again after the impact. 
“fuck,” she breathes, a hot swell in her lower stomach. he creeps his hand up the skin of her thigh, slipping under her dress, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, dragging them down her legs. her face grows hot at the way he takes command, shoving at the fabric until it slides down her calves and hits the floor. she steps out of them, breath shaky, drenched in anticipation, insides of her thighs growing wet. carmy gives her a final kiss before dropping to his knees in front of her, placing a few gentle kisses around her skin. she instinctively clamps her thighs at the sensation, the man bringing his hand to shove her leg to the side, exposing her glistening heat. he lets out a soft moan at the sight, closer than he’s ever been to her core, leaning forward to softly kiss her clit. the girl lets out a cry of surprise, hand flying to his head, the simple act sending a shock throughout her body. he brings his thumb and pointer finger to part her both of her lips, taking her image in, salivating slightly in anticipation. he casts his eyes up towards her face, flushed, mouth open. he leans forward, licking a long stripe up her wetness to her clit, swirling his tongue around the bud, pulling away. she pants, fingers tangled in his hair, arching towards him, wordlessly asking for more. he groans at the taste of her, a rush to his head, his cock, immediately diving in for more, lapping at her as if she’s the finest thing he’s had in his mouth. her knees begin to go weak, trembling slightly, trying to hold onto him for support. 
“carmy,” she whimpers, “i can’t stand.” 
this breaks his focus, bringing his eyes up to her with a glint. 
“yeah?” he asks, “feel too good, baby?” a smirk growing on his face. she refuses to respond, tightly shutting her eyes and throwing her head back when he brings his thumb to slowly circle her clit, watching, gauging her reaction. he pulls his hand away, placing a small smack on the inside of her thigh, the girl gasping. 
“answer me” he growls, breath tickling her mound, leaning to press a few more kisses to her swollen heat. she lets out a whine, grabbing his hair. 
“it feels- fuck it feels so good carm,” she shakily admits, knees nearly buckling. satisfied with her answer he brings both hands to the base of her ass, lifting her with ease and setting her on the countertop. she hastily grabs his shirt and pulls him in, locking lips and tasting herself on his tongue, letting a sweet sound into his mouth. he breaks away, desperate to feel her wetness on his mouth again. he kisses the inside of her thigh, then leans in, flattening his tongue against her clit, gently lapping, a finger coming to tease her pooling entrance. she unintentionally bucks her hips at the sensation, prompting carmen to bring the length of his forearm to her inner thigh, shoving it open, holding her down. she brings her eyes to his tattooed arm splaying her open, heart pounding, trying to straighten herself, awaiting his touch. he continues his gentle licks, circling his finger around her wetness, then pushing the digit into her slowly, eyes darting up to watch her mouth fall open. he swirls his tongue around her engorged clit, then gently sucks, curling his finger deeply inside of her, beginning to establish a rhythmic motion. her pants turn to cries, pulling the man in by his curls. his hand grips the skin of her thigh, spreading her open, devouring her, pushing a second finger into her. her teeth clamp down onto her lip at the sensation, gripping around his digits, trying hard to keep her composure in front of the man. carmy, aware of this, increases the pace of his movement, pulling his mouth away from her, beginning to tease her clit with a feather-like touch of his tongue. her head falls back, smacking against the cabinet, a loud moan slipping through her lips. 
“please,” she pleads, not sure for what, arching into carmen’s motion, hands grabbing whatever she can of him, the knot inside her stomach growing impossibly tight. he wants to feel her cum— clench around his fingers, see how long he can keep fucking into her until it’s too much— but he refrains, pulling his fingers out, soaked with her juices, standing up. her head jerks up to meet his eyes, panting, flushed, frustrated. 
“whyy?” she whines, trying to pull the man back to her. he lets out a scoff, smirk creeping at the edges of his lips, hands on the tops her thighs, gripping. 
“you think i’m gonna let you cum?” he asks, voice low, coming close to her face, “after that shit you pulled in the club?” 
her lip pouts, face heating at his words, held down by his weight, trying to catch her breath. the girl opens her mouth to argue back, but decides against it, just wanting to feel him— leaning forward to kiss him softly, hungrily, hands coming to feel the muscles of his chest. he melts into the kiss, hands wrapping around her back. 
“you don’t care, huh?” carmy teases between kisses, “just want me to keep touchin’ you,” pressing himself between her thighs, deepening their contact. she nods into the kiss, greedily reaching her hands down to pull his shirt up. he pulls away from her, taking it off completely, groaning as the girl runs her hands up his bare abdomen, then gently rakes her nails down, admiring the way his muscles flex under her touch. he grows a bit impatient, decides to pick her up, her legs coming to wrap around his back, carrying her to the bedroom. she grins at the way he holds her, hands gripping both of her ass cheeks, leaning down to kiss his neck in the short walk. when he drops her onto the plush duvet of her bed he leans over her, fingers grasping the side zipper of her dress, slowly pulling it down to reveal the skin of her ribcage, waist, stopping right above her hip. they lock eyes and he searches her face for any signs of hesitation, finding only blown pupils and flushed cheeks. he grabs the hem of the dress, slowly pulling it down her body to expose her breasts, waist, stomach, pelvis, letting the fabric fall over her ankles to the floor. his eyes drink her in, sparks firing in his brain, bringing his hands to grasp her waist, thumbs resting over her stomach. carmy leans in, deeply kissing her, savoring her warmth, then rises, unbuckling his belt. she props herself up onto her elbows, watching the man slowly unbutton his pants, pull the zipper down. she lets out a heavy breath at the sight of the large bulge behind his briefs, straining against the cotton, curved upwards to the right. she sits up, inching towards the edge of the bed, seated in front of the man, gazing up at him in adoration. 
“can i take these off?” she asks softly, fingers coming to hook into his briefs, pulling them slightly to reveal the deep v-line in his hips, light brown hair leading down to his covered pubic bone. her mouth was almost watering, looking up at him in anticipation. he grins at her eagerness, raising his eyebrows slightly, nodding his head, giving her permission to slip the waistband down over his hips, cock slapping against his stomach when she does so. she immediately grabs the length of his dick, heavy in her hand, giving it a few slow strokes, watching as he closes his eyes, breathing out heavily. her head feels fuzzy, wanting nothing more than for him to shove her back onto the bed and fill her completely, continuing to marvel at his thickness. he brings his hand to stroke the side of her face, fingers coming over her ear and threading through her hair, watching intently as she slowly jerks him off. she clenches her thighs together in an attempt to alleviate the growing ache, running out of patience. 
“carm,” she whines, gripping his cock, gazing up at him, handsome face framed by a few messy curls, “i want it already.” 
he lets a small smirk grace his face, rubbing his thumb against her cheek. 
“yeah?” he asks, watching the girl quickly nod, bringing his face closer to his, lowering his voice, “you know i’m gonna fuckin’ wreck you tonight, right?” 
she heats at his words, eyes widening, an expectant shiver making it’s way through her body and settling throughout her core. he doesn’t let her respond, grabbing her thighs and pulling her, back coming to the mattress, pelvis flush with his. he bends her legs into her chest, leaning over her, the tip of his cock briefly gracing her wetness before he brings his hand down to grip himself, running the tip through her slick folds, sliding up to nudge her clit. she tightly shuts her eyes, lets out a quiet moan at the sensation— almost enough to satisfy, but not quite. he continues thrusting through her folds, listening to the wet sounds, coating himself in her juices. she tries to resist the urge but she can’t, reaching down, grabbing his cock and sticking it inside of her, legs coming to wrap around his back to pull him in. 
“fuckk,” he exclaims loudly, not expecting her desperation, suddenly engulfed in her warmth. he groans, trying to compose himself, bringing his hand to her throat, leaning in, pushing his hips forward to the hilt. she whimpers, cherishing the slight burn of fullness as he tightens his grip around her throat. 
“this what you wanted?” he asks, voice gruff, fully draped over her, nuzzling a kiss under her ear. the way he speaks to her ignites a flame, emboldening her slightly. her eyes gleam. 
“no,” she breathes, “i want you to fuckin’ move,” words laced with a tone. he lets out a short laugh, straightening, grabbing both her calves and propping them up over his shoulders, drawing out of her and then quickly snapping his hips forward. she gasps, hand flying up to her mouth. she feels the ridge of his head drag against her walls as he graciously begins to thrust into her, hands wrapped around her legs, eyes coming to watch her breasts bounce in time with his rhythm. her hand falls away from her mouth, a loud cry pouring from her lips. carmen revels in the sound as he continuously drives his hips forward, skin slapping against hers, gripping her left calf, turning to press a kiss into her ankle. his pace begins to satiate the relentless burn within her core, trying to take his length as deeply as possible.
“so good,” she whimpers, bringing her hands to her breasts, squeezing. carmy groans, slapping her outer thigh. 
“where’d that attitude go?” he asks, pelvis flush against her, pulling closer, “huh?” 
her brows furrow, opening her mouth to argue but falling short, a breathy moan replacing her words at the sensation of him deeply fucking into her. her body feels incredibly hot, nipples perked beneath her fingers, feeling herself approaching an edge. he grins, moving his hand to grip at her thigh, eyes scanning over the sight in front of him. 
“so fuckin’ pretty,” he tells her, hips stuttering, trying to push away his quickly approaching orgasm. he pulls out of her, the girl’s eyes shooting open to object. carmy takes hold of her forearms, pulling her to stand, grabbing her hips and turning her around, pushing her forward. her knee comes to the bed, balanced on her other leg as he wraps his arm around her waist, hand on her ribcage and inserts himself back into her tightness. 
“yes,” she cries, arching back against him and bringing her hand onto his arm, feeling the head of his cock thrust deeply upwards. the tingling in her core grows stronger; her head falls back onto his shoulder. carmen grunts, his free hand coming to find her clit, rubbing small, soft circles, feeling himself unravel at the intense pulse of her walls. he kisses her cheek, relentlessly pounding into her, the crescendo of her moans driving him higher and higher. his lips come right next to her ear, breath ragged. 
“you my girl?” he asks, another kiss on the side of her face, bringing his hand from her ribs to her breast, gently squeezing. 
she nods quickly, arm coming behind her to grab his hip, feeling him, tangible beneath her fingers. 
“all yours,” she pants, “i’m all yours, carm.” 
he groans at the sentiment, bottoming out inside of her, quickly circling her clit as her arousal grows slick on his fingers. she feels herself tumbling towards her edge, trying to physically hold onto him so as to not climax, fingers gripping into his skin. 
“i’m-,” a cry falls from her mouth. he pulls the two even closer, wetness pouring from her at the continual thrusts, feeling the cues of her body approaching climax.
“let it go, baby,” he coos, lips pressed against her ear. with his simple command she feels an intense heat envelop her body, orgasm crashing against her like a wave. she goes limp in his arms so he grabs her tighter, bending her over the bed. her thighs begin to shake as carmen relentlessly snaps his hips, watching her intently, feeling a white hot pleasure seep through him. he’s ferociously grabbing at her, pulling her in as he approaches his edge, stutter of his hips as he bottoms out and releases himself into her with a loud groan. she feels the pressure of his cum against her walls, intense heat diffusing as she rides out the shocks of her orgasm. he collapses over her, hand coming to the bed, trying not to put his full weight upon her. their labored breaths harmonize, hearts pounding. carmy runs a hand over her lower back, soothingly rubbing the limp girl. he pushes himself up, straining to grab a tissue off her nightstand to clean with, the act of pulling out of her releasing a constant pressure, the girl whimpering. he soaks up the mess of cum dripping down her legs, drinking in the sight, then rises to throw the tissues away. she’s able to muster the energy to push herself up and stumble behind him, walking into the bathroom to turn on the shower, steadying her shaky legs by holding onto the wall. she turns to see the man, naked in all his glory, approach her, placing his hands on her hips and leaning in to kiss her deeply. she seeps into his touch, hand coming to graze his lower stomach, exhaling slowly. he lets a peace wash over the two before speaking. 
“so, uh, i’ll take this as your two weeks notice, then?” he teases, hand falling to her low back. she tilts her head to the side. 
“what? you mean i don’t get a promotion after that?” she asks, smiling, trying to feign disappointment, “fuck.”
he grins, adoringly gazing down at the young woman, bathing in the light of her smile. 
he knew it was never supposed to go so far. it was never supposed to end up in this position, with her leaning in for another kiss, him greedily accepting. she was his completely now, the man making a vow to never let anything or anyone hurt her, cherishing the feeling of her warmth under his fingertips. 
it was never supposed to go so far, but it did. and he was so fucking glad it did. 
eeeek i hope you liked it!! i genuinely enjoyed writing this story so much. an epilogue to wrap up some loose ends is possible in the future- in the meantime i'll be posting some steamy carmy headcannons.
please leave me a comment and let me know what you think! thank you SO MUCH to everyone for the continued support on this series <3
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avatarkv · 1 year
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III ! I watch the fathers with their little girls and wonder what I did to deserve this, (How could you hurt a little kid?)
✎ Synopsis ! You've been thrusted to carry the burden of the eldest after his passing. (First | Second)
Content & warning: Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. Mentions of death and violence! (wc; 3538)
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This is like stones in your heart. 
The journey felt like forever; soaring high above the lush forests of pandora and just beyond the great currents. The rush of wind was nauseating– a stark contrast to the fluttering feeling when you’re amidst the warm orange glow across the sky, the thrill of flying over the vibrant forest. It was as if the scent of the trees and the sounds of the animals below called for all you, bidding their goodbyes. You marveled at the beauty nonetheless– home. This was home and you couldn’t help but doubt your father again, asking yourself how he could ever stomach leaving. 
You’re too young to feel this kind of hurt, you think, but could you still consider yourself a child after so many losses? Your Ikran would slightly falter whenever your mind drifted too far, thoughts taunting you to no end. 
“Ma’ite,” Neytiri would softly call for you with Tuk hugging her tightly near her chest. You were sandwiched between her ikran and your father’s, throwing you glances every second. They were worried, you couldn’t even sit upright. Jake’s heart faltered every look shot towards him by his mate, but he couldn’t risk stopping; the enemy could be sleeping anywhere for all he knows. Everyone had to move forward.
When you finally arrived at Awa’atlu, the people there weren't exactly welcoming. Your skin felt slight discomfort, burning against the ambience and sand. It felt weird under the soles of your feet and it would sink slightly with every step. You approached the clan, hands upward like your father’s. They avoided you like the plague– like your family was some sort of incurable disease that they wouldn’t dare touch. Tonowari, the clan’s olo’eyktan, was condoling enough– unlike his hostile wife. She had addressed everyone with great disdain and perhaps, rightfully so. Ronal was skeptical– untrusting.
Demon-blood, she openly disclosed, tightly gripping your sister’s hands for everyone to see. You immediately pushed Kiri behind you, suppressing a hiss that threatened to leave your throat. “We are na’vi!” The look your father shot at you was enough reason to pipe down and let him do the talking, extremely careful not to enrage the Tsahik already. 
Something softened inside her from seeing the troubled family. Ronal is Tsahik, but a mother nonetheless. She knew very well the struggle. After exchanging knowing looks, Tonowari approached Jake and granted them Uturu. 
“Teach them our ways,” He had announced to the clan which was met with a few gasps of disbelief, “So they don’t suffer the shame of being useless.”
Their lifestyle intimidated you, Tonowari was right. You felt like a toddler taking your first step and it made your heart heavy. Everything you have ever known and learned– gone. You had no choice but to power through. Tsireya and Rotxo were accommodating, the kindest souls who had ever approached you since coming here. Ao’nung was a pain in the ass, but for the sake of keeping up images, you knew better than to piss him off.
“Breathe in,” Tsireya instructed while everyone inhaled, “And breathe out. Imagine flickering a flame– slow down your heartbeat.” While Tsireya was hospitable, she was a relentless teacher, absolutely eager to teach everyone their ways. Kiri seemed to have gotten the hang of it already and although you couldn't admit it, it set a pang of jealousy inside you. 
You thought you’d learn in a span of days, letting yourself go easy the first few weeks but time passed quickly, blurring alongside the thrashing waves and the seafoam. Your body burned from fatigue, but your mind was the heaviest of all. It remained a mess and it did not help with your training, oh Eywa, you were falling behind– it was almost a month. A month of you trying to control your Ilu.
Ao’nung was equally frustrated, angry even. Not only was he wasting his time babysitting the Sullys’, you just couldn’t get the hang of it. His patience was wearing thin, if not nonexistent already. The olo’eyktan’s son tried to steady his breathing as he watched you situate yourself above the Ilu once again, hands grasping on the handles tightly. You lowered your body, chest meeting the creature’s back with a deep sigh. 
“Control your form,” He reminded, “This is like riding your Ikran, tell them what to do. Clear your mind.” It was a mantra at this point, you swear you could even hear his voice while you slept. You knew very well you weren’t doing good, but it was your damn best already. Although Ao’nung wasn’t the friendliest, he did his part as a mentor nonetheless; he had carefully explained the technique, demonstrated it for you, and even spent time riding with you on its back to help you get a feel for it– but as the sun began to set over the tranquil waters, it was another reminder that you had to try again tomorrow. 
You weren’t gonna give up so easily, despite the many bruises and scratches from the nearby corals whenever the Ilu would throw you off. With a determined nod, you asked it to go. The water rippled around you as you surged forward, pushing the creature to its ability, but as you went deeper, your mind had drifted once again to another memory.
The sun was just beginning to rise over the Hallelujah Mountains, casting a golden glow over the lush, verdant jungle below. You and your brothers each had mounted on your Ikrans, soared high above the treetops, their wings slicing through the crisp morning air. Neteyam let out a wild whoop of excitement, egging you on to pick up your pace. You responded with a grin, urging your Ikran to tilt her wings to gain speed and keep up with your brother's soaring figure. 
While everyone weaved through the trees, their ikran's agile bodies allowed them to execute the most incredible maneuvers. The sun was now high in the sky, casting dappled shadows over the forest floor as the siblings continued their exhilarating race. Lo’ak struggled, the rush of wind hitting him straight to the face from behind. He groaned, feeling displeasure in letting his older siblings best him again. Neteyam cast a knowing glance, tilting his head towards him– you could only grin in approval. 
He slowed down slightly, causing you to lag behind his Ikran. Lo’ak took this as an advantage and immediately surged forward. Your ikrans let out triumphant roars as they touched down and you could already see the smug smile plastered on your younger brother’s face as he approached you. 
“Neteyam, did you see that?” He beamed in pride, hitting his brother in the shoulder. “Sis, this has got to be one of your bad days, hate to break it to ya.” He continued, saying how none of you should not have slacked and that he would never let this day live down ever– Lo’ak is a man of his words. The moment you returned back to the clan, it was all he could tell; he couldn’t stop talking about his win and you indulged him nonetheless. 
“Mighty warrior,” Neteyam teased, putting his weight on Lo’ak’s shoulders as he tried to shake him off.  “Maybe you can beat me in training next time then.” The laugh that erupted your throat was painful– too painful, you couldn’t breathe. 
You flailed your arms in panic, suddenly aware of the lack of oxygen on your chest and your Ilu was long gone. You tried to shout, but your voice was lost in the roar of the waves crashing against you and was only met with bubbles gushing out your mouth. You kicked your legs violently, trying to swim above. You couldn’t see anything but the murky depths of the sea and you felt weaker by the second, muscles burning from the strain. This was it. Eywa had cursed you the death of being useless and you failed once again. 
Maybe you weren’t cut out for this– weren’t used to sticking out like a sore thumb. You were your brother’s shadow and you liked it that way, being there with him through thick and thin. Now that he was gone, there was no shade to hide from the glaring sun and you had no choice but to stare back. Your mind was clouded with nothing but fear and desperation, most of all guilt. Your lungs ached from the lack of oxygen and before your body could finally still, a hand reached out and grabbed your arm. As you resurfaced, you coughed up water and gasped for air, body shivering against him as your hold tightened around his figure, but Ao’nung didn’t relent. 
“What was that?” He barked as you two neared the shore, approaching the concerned expressions of your siblings. Ao’nung immediately retracts from your hold, nudging you off. “Something is blocking your mind and I could not care less for whatever it is. Get it off your head and stop being so incompetent– even Tuk can manage.” 
He’s then met with a harsh shove from Lo’ak. “She’s new to this, cut her some slack bro.” 
“It’s been weeks, she could’ve died there!” Tsireya held him back, shooting him a glare. He could only run a hand through his hair, anger wavering and was replaced with an equal pounding heart. “Great mother, help this sad excuse of a Na’vi.” 
You hung your head in shame, feeling absolutely small and foolish. You were burning from embarrassment, the coldness from drowning immediately leaving your body. Their argument blurred from the background, only feeling Kiri’s hands searching your skin for any serious injuries. She then nudged your stiff shoulders softly, muttering a series of “Are you okay” and “Did it hurt?”. Vehemently shaking your head, you stormed off and made your way back to your pod. 
You passed by Jake who was sharpening his hunting spear and immediately, he felt the aura you emitted. It was ominous– sad. He looks around for Neytiri, only to meet an empty space. He knew he had to deal with this one, “What’s wrong kid?” You heard him ask, but your reply still bubbled like acid inside your stomach, mouth opening only to close it shut again. 
When he doesn’t get an answer, he finally approaches you and realizes you were hyperventilating– shaking. Your face was wet with tears and your fists were tightly clenched. He places a hand on your shoulder only for you to draw back sharply, almost as if his slightest touch had burned you and that was what put you on edge– the breaking point.
“I want to go home!” You cried, voice cracking and laced with nothing but longing. You circled around the Marui frantically and away from him, “Why are we here?” 
He didn’t understand why you were mad at him. The look you threw was nauseating– a look you’ll never want to receive from your child. It was full of hate, borderline disgust. He slowly exhaled from his nose, exhausted himself. Jake just got back from a hunt with Tonowari and today wasn’t on his side either, having to embarrass himself multiple times in front of the clan’s olo’eyktan and his warriors. He’d be a big fat liar if he said that the training was a piece of cake, that he already got the hang of it. 
The last thing he wanted now was to argue with his daughter, but the way his chest tightened told him that he needed to let it out. “You know damn well, __” His tone was steady, slowly brewing like the calm before a raging storm.
“No, why are we running? Why are we here when we could have ended the war back in the forest? Let it remain there instead of having it roam around to search for us?" You replied, “Do they know that? Are they aware that we’re only bringing them here?” 
His fear was only now confirmed and he fought the urge to hang his head low and dissociate. You blamed him, he thought, and the creeping insecurities of being a father had once again rushed inside, now double in size. Jake thought he was doing good– better, even, but after all the occurrences and the strings he had to pull, there was no more proving himself. For a moment, he felt human again– unwanted. Right now he was just that sad marine who had lost everything and had nothing at all. 
He palmed his face in frustration, unable to explain himself properly. “This is our last chance for home, do you hear me? No one is coming, no one!” His voice heightened, figure slightly towering over you. “Pull your weight–, bare some teeth and show skin. It’s just an Ilu, for Christ’s sake!” Of course he was aware of how his children struggled, listening attentively while they talked between meals or when they got back from a tiring day. 
“You don’t understand! I didn’t grow here– throw me into the sea and they spit me right back out. I don’t belong here!” You responded in the same fierceness, chin raising. “I want to go home!”
“Then go! You’re so desperate to follow in your brother’s footsteps, then you might as well go! Get yourself killed there, is that what you want?” The loud snort he let out was only a hard jab to your beaten stomach. A father shouldn’t be his daughter’s first heartbreaker– hell, he should be the one to instill fear in whoever dares lay a finger even, but here he was, watching you crumble in front of him and it was from his own words. 
You couldn’t help the frown deepening your features and he wanted nothing more than to rush to you in an embrace– to take back what he said, but your siblings had hurriedly entered the pod with Neytiri trailing behind with a basket of fruits she just washed. “What do you intend to do, let the whole clan know that you two are fighting?” She had butted in, pitch not the lowest either. Neytiri immediately rushes to you, while the others stand unmoving at the mouth of the Marui.
You missed your father; perhaps it was the reason for this argument boiling over. You haven’t talked to him ever since arriving at Awa’atlu, nor had he regarded you with even a faint nod. It took a toll on you, not having your father’s recognition. When you seeked the comfort of his arms back at home, he had only stared and while it was little no nothing at all, it gnawed your insides. You feared that he blamed you– it was your fault that he had to bury his child. The stupidest part of you hoped that he didn’t, that he was still your mighty warrior– his first baby girl. 
The way he stood now, gaze still unwavering and cold, had crushed that small hope of yours. 
The creases on your forehead was long gone as your legs threatened to cave in, “I wish you were more of a father than whatever a Toruk Makto is,”
You missed the way his ears flattened, the way his look had finally faltered. Neytiri had engulfed you in a hug, almost like she was trying to undo what you said. You could only hear his steps retreating and Tuk calling for your father– you could only cry harder when you felt the hands of your family, pulling you into a tighter embrace.
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The night loomed heavily. 
You desperately tugged on the woven cloth pulled up below your chin. You were no stranger to the lulling waves anymore, but you felt that the evening’s air was denser; it carried along a certain guilt you desperately sought to leave behind, and yet it continues to deprive you of rest. Everyone was soundly asleep, too tired to discuss today’s occurrences and too scared of what might leave their mouths the further it unravels. They were pretty good at doing just that– it was so unlikely for everyone to share their feelings, to tell each other where it hurts and where it’s heavy. You wondered how many more bottles could be filled before they realize that it’s already leaking from the brim, that it’s fine to let it all out before keeping it all in again. 
Looking at everyone, you were almost convinced that they would never and that made you want to shout at your family– ask them why you were the only one crying your eyes out and mourning him to no end. It was confusing, so confusing for a child; just where do you unload all this grief? 
Your father had not yet returned after the argument and while Neytiri assured you that he only needed air, you couldn’t help but feel worried. The night continued on without any sight of him and your stomach would only churn impossibly tighter. 
The pod was silent except for your family’s soft snores and your own ragged breathing– tears streamed down your face and your body racked with sobs as you desperately tried to stifle them. You tried to breathe through your mouth, your nose too clogged to even function, and your chest heaved deeply with every attempt. Suddenly, a hand landed on your waist and for a second, you were still, afraid that you might have woken someone up– but the night continued on with the same silence and you were forced to turn your body to check.
Tuk immediately buries her face against your chest, wriggling her body closer to yours. You waited until she was completely unmoving again before you could let out a sigh of relief, stroking her hair gently. 
“I dream about him sometimes,” Her whisper startled you. It sounded so small it could go unnoticed, but the way it muffled and vibrated off your chest told you that Tuk was indeed awake and speaking. You waited for her to continue, rubbing soft circles on her back. “He's still in the forest and we play there, just like before.”
You swallowed hard, trying to will the tears away. “Yeah? How’s he looking over there?”
“Mighty,” Tuk replies with a giggle, “Kiri and Lo’ak would sometimes be with us too and we would go on adventures–! could you believe that? Neteyam is finally letting me go with the bigger kids now.”
You let her ramble, listening intently to her stories and what her dreams contained. There was a sense of normality to hearing her talk without a problem, Tuk had that kind of power– trust her to lighten up a gloomy room. You couldn’t even remember the time you had a conversation as heartfelt as this, just you and your little sister. She continued babbling, drawing shapes on your stomach and tracing the stripes on your skin.
“But you know, you’ve never joined us– never seen you in my dream even once.” Her voice starts to lower again as she digs her head further into your chest, hugging you closer, “I miss him too, tsmuke, but I think I miss you more now. I hardly see you and you’re just right here– feels like I'm losing you too.”
Your eyes widen. You forget that Tuk is still a child– literally years younger and that must be so confusing for a little girl; it was impossible for her thin arms and small fingers to hold shards of grief that continues to wound you, let alone for all the family– so just what were you doing? Why are you letting her carry such a burden already? 
You start to sob again and you feel the same wetness against your chest. You frantically search for her face and desperately try to wipe the tears falling from her eyes, peppering her with kisses all over as you let out apologies. Every sorry grew miserable, slurring with each peck and she would only cry harder. “I’m here, sweet child, just here.” You would comfort her, “If you feel troubled, come to me, yeah? Your sister is strong– let her carry everything for you, alright?” 
Her hand reaches up, attempting to wipe away your tears as well. You both stared at each other and it was enough words said; only now can you see her troubled doe eyes and it pierces through your heart with a thousand more needles. This was your epiphany;  the realization that everyone endured differently and no matter how much you wept, they mourned just the same– hurt just as bad. You had to move forward, even if it meant letting your condolences rest. 
Unknowingly, your father listened just outside, his heart wringing him of any more emotions. He knew very well how he failed as a father. He missed his son– misses him terribly. His eyes were locked on the handle of his dagger, fingers tracing against the messily etched names of his children on the wooden hilt. A reminder of what he was fighting for– of who he was trying so hard to protect, and yet he still needed to bury his eldest and break the heart of his daughter. Maybe Eywa did turn his back on the chosen one already, maybe his luck had already run out. 
This is like stones in his heart, and he could never lessen the weight.
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☆ mauve here! finally finished with chapter 3, had to rewrite this like one or two times. it was a pain in my ass, im crying hahah will be inactive for a week! traveling to the rural and the signal there is whack. special tag for @eywas-heir bec i love her SMOOCH
Tags: @aonungsmate @cappsikle @minkyungseokie @wwwellacom @dearstell @alohastitch0626 @gcldtom @aleracrovn
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© avatarkv, do not repost.
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givemequeen · 1 year
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Accidental Confessions: Pedro Pascal x reader
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request: What about a Pedro Pascal friends to lovers? He just seems like such a great friend. It would be cute to see an angsty/fluffy friends to lovers. a/n: I’m back bitches? pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader summary: you go to a party with Pedro and accidentally let something slip. warnings: sexy time. slight oral (female receiving). honestly just normal sexy stuff. oh! unprotected sex (remember to wrap it before you tap it, lads) word count: 5409
You stepped into the party already anxious, your hands were slightly shaking as you made your way around the room overfilled with strangers. Pedro had invited you to some fancy actor party of his and you had regrettably agreed. The last thing you wanted to do right now was fake smile at a bunch of people you didn’t know. It would’ve been so much better if you had just stayed home in bed watching TV. 
You shook the thought out of your head, no, you were here for your friend. He invited you specifically. He wants you here.
As you silently chastised yourself for wishing you weren’t here, you found yourself at the bar. The bartender – a young man with healthy, bouncing curls down to his shoulders whose smile revealed two small dimples on each cheek – asked you what you wanted as he prepared a drink for a girl in a stunning dress.
Pedro hadn’t exactly told you what to wear, just something “formal”, so you had landed on a long, thin, silver dress with spaghetti straps that you had bought on a whim. Thankfully, you seemed to fit in with the rest of the people. Though they did seem much more put together than you did.
You told the bartender your order – lemon vodka – and sat on one of the stools. You were about to take your phone out of your small purse when the lady that was sat next to you spoke. She called out your name and you shot up. 
“Is it you?” she said with a dashing smile. Her teeth were perfectly straight and extremely white. She had a tan and a nose that you could ski on. 
“Yeah?” you said, a bit unsure. 
“It’s wonderful meeting you.” She stuck her hand out, of course she had a perfect manicure. 
“Thanks, you too.” You shook her hand; thankful you had at least attempted to paint your nails a colour to match your dress. “I don’t mean to be rude but who are you?” 
She laughed – obviously a perfect laugh, no snorting or high-pitched squeals – and told you her name. “I’ve worked with Pedro.” 
You cringed at the way she said his name. “Oh.” You said with a slightly pang of jealousy. “So, how do you know me?”
“Are you kidding? He talks about you all the time, sweetheart.” She laughed, completely taking you back. “So how long have you two been together?” 
Just as you were about to open your mouth to tell her you guys weren’t together and what a ridiculous suggestion that was, the bartender handed you your drink. You smiled at him and politely took a sip before turning to the woman and again. 
However, this time, Pedro was stood right next to her. 
“Pedro!” you said, a smile light up your face. You stood up, set your drink on the bar, and gave him a hug. His strong, large, warm hands rested on your hips as you tucked your head in his neck and pressed yourself against his warm skin. He smelled perfect. Like the cologne you had seen in his bathroom one too many times and like him. Like his skin and his sweat and morning mist and almonds. 
You stood back before it got too weird. You felt hyperaware of his hands on your hips and how he had kept them there. “I was just talking to-” you turned to face the lady but she was gone. “Oh, she must’ve left.”
“Leah? Yeah we worked together last year, I told you about it.” He smiled and you nearly melted right there. That gorgeous smile that revealed a dimple in his right cheek and crinkled his eyes. “You look gorgeous.” He said as he took a step back and took you in. You spun around in order to give him a full view. “Absolutely perfect.”
“So do you, ver handsome.” You took a sip of your drink in order to hide your blush. 
“Come, I want you to meet some people.” You nodded and allowed Pedro to grab your hand and lead you through the masses of people. You spent the next three hours going from group to group. You knew some of the actors, either personally - well more like from some other party Pedro had invited you to - or because you had seen them in some show or movie. You politely listened to whatever they had to say and then kissed everyone goodbye before moving on to the next group. 
Though sometimes what the actors were saying was interesting, the thing that took your attention away the most was Pedro. Whenever he laughed, he would clap his hand on his chest and lean backwards. You couldn’t stop paying attention to the heat coming from his hand when he would place in on your lower back as he guided you to the next group. 
It was around eleven o’clock when you stepped outside from some air. Pedro had offered to fill up your drink but you refused as you were starting to feel a little light headed. So, instead, he went to get you both a snack and a glass of water. 
You were standing in the apartment’s balcony, it was pretty high up but it had the most breath-taking view of the city. All around you lights from different buildings and streets winked up at you. You took a deep breath in and gripped the railing of the balcony. You were alone and did not hear when Pedro came out. 
“Hey there.” He said, he was holding a bowl of peanuts and a glass of water. “I already had some water; I hope you don’t mind sharing.” He grinned sheepishly. 
“Of course I don’t mind, silly.” You smiled and took the glass. “Thank you.” You said as you popped a peanut into your mouth. 
You sat down on one of the outdoor sofas and, sighing, lifted your legs so they laid across Pedro’s lap. You both quietly munched on the snack and stared at the sky. Pedro moved your dress out of the way, lifting the hem until your knees. He began drawing on your leg and you nearly groaned out loud at how good his touch felt. 
“So, how long are you in New York for?” you finally asked. You always dreaded this answer, he wasn’t here for long, always in one country or another filming. 
Of course, you were happy for him. He was doing what he had always dreamed of doing but a small – or large – part of you was selfish and wanted him to stay in New York so you could see him every day. 
“For a while.” He said. You look up at him and smiled. 
“Really? No show to shoot? No premier or award show to attend?” you tried to hide your excitement but failed miserably. 
“No.” he laughed. “I’m all yours.” He said as his finger glided up and down your leg. 
“Awesome.” You said, unsure what else to say. I wish you were all mine… 
“Hmm?”
“What?” you echoed looking up at him. 
“What did you just say?” he asked, arching an eyebrow, his hand had frozen highway up your shin. 
“Nothing. I didn’t say anything.” You sat up, pulling your legs away from him. “Fuck, did I say “I wish you were all mine” out loud? Fuck.” you thought. You probably had had more to drink than you had initially thought. 
“Are you sure?” he asked. 
“Yes, anyway I better get going.” You quickly stood up and before he had the chance to follow, you dashed inside. “Thanks for inviting me.” 
Quickly, you made your way through the crowds of people, carefully avoiding those you knew were chatterboxes, and left the apartment. You looked behind you and nervously began pressing the call button for the elevator. As soon as it opened, you darted inside and began repeatedly pressing the close button. 
Soon enough, the elevator reached the reception and you bolted across it. You waved goodbye to the concierge who had helped you earlier last night and quickly glanced over your shoulder as you stepped outside. Pedro was nowhere to be seen and you weren’t sure whether to be disappointed or relived. You hailed a taxi down, but they all zoomed past you, either busy or completely ignoring you. 
“Hey.” You heard Pedro call your name from behind. “Where are you running off to?” he tapped your shoulder and you spun around. 
“Hi, sorry. Just gotta get home, yknow.” You smiled, trying to play it cool but Pedro saw right past your act. 
“Okay, let me accompany you.” He stood beside you and hailed a taxi down. Of course, they immediately listened to him. He opened the door for you to get in. 
“It’s okay, you don’t have to. I’ll get home fine.” You said as you got in. 
“What kind of a friend would I be if I didn’t take you home?” he said as he too got in. 
Reluctantly, you nodded and he gave the taxi driver your address. You spent the ride staring outside and cursing New York’s traffic. Walking or the subway would’ve taken you less and maybe you wouldn’t have been caught up by Pedro. But the subway wasn’t the safest especially with what you were wearing and your feet hurt too much to walk all the way home. 
Pedro sat silently next to you, his hand on the middle seat, and eyes glued outside. When you finally got to your place, you jumped out of the taxi and thanked Pedro. However, he too stepped outside. He paid the driver and followed you inside your apartment’s foyer. 
You couldn’t exactly slam the door in his face, so you let him in and got into the elevator. You expected this ride to be just like the taxi drive, silent and a tiny bit awkward. Pedro surprised you by hitting the emergency button - which caused the elevator to jolt to a halt - and turning to you. 
“Hey, talk to me, why did you run off? And don’t say you needed to get home.” He said, he stood completely in front of you. You glanced up and mustered a smile. 
“I- well- it’s just-” you couldn’t help but glancing down at his lips and back up at his eyes. Those deep brown eyes you could just lose yourself in. 
“Yeah? You just what?” he prompted, taking a step closer to you. You held your breath, unsure as to what to do. 
“I think you know.” You finally said, you pushed your shoulders back and held your hands together behind your back. 
“Oh? I do?” he asked, he was so close you could feel his breath fanning across your face. It smelt like mint and alcohol and you so desperately wanted to put your mouth and his. 
Gently, he cupped your cheek and you let out a breath, your hands went to his chest as his other hand went to your hips. “Please let me kiss you, I’ve been dying to kiss you.” He whispered. 
You nodded and closed your eyes, waiting for the heavenly taste of his lips. Slowly, Pedro pressed his lips against yours, you let out a sigh that sounded almost like a whine, and pulled him closer by the jacket of his suit. You moved your head to the side, allowing him more space to kiss you. 
His lips felt so extremely smooth and soft, almost like what you imagined kissing a cloud would feel like. He groaned into your mouth and that noise made you weak in the knees. Pedro let his hand drop to your waist and you both walked backwards until your back hit the elevator wall. 
He pulled you up so you could rest on the safety rail. You wrapped one leg around his waist, the dress restricting your movement, and he pressed himself against you. Now it was your turn to groan. He was clearly hard; you could feel it pressing against where you needed it the most. 
He rolled his hips and you moaned again. Taking advantage of the situation, he slipped his tongue into yours. You allowed it and let your tongue dance over his. One of his hands move to your behind, he grabbed the soft flesh there and pressed himself even harder into you. His other hand went to your leg, he pulled your dress up, feeling how smooth your legs were. 
“Fuck.” He whispered against your lips as he pulled apart for air. “I want to-” 
“Everything alright in there?” a voice called out from the intercom. 
You jumped away from Pedro, slightly pushing him away. “Erm, yes, just an accident.” You coughed and tried to fix your dress. 
“Alright.” Said the voice. Pedro hit the button again and the elevator lurched into life. 
You let your fingers glide over your lips, reminiscing on how sweet he tasted.  Pedro was now leaning against the back wall of the elevator, not staying anything, as you stood near the doors. 
Finally, they opened and you stepped into the corridor. You could hear him follow you and wait patiently as you took your keys out. Once you found them, you fumbled with them until you managed to slide them into the keyhole. You turned the key and a small click resonated. 
You turned to face him and struggled to meet his eyes. He was staring down at you, his face tense as though unsure of what to do and hands in his pockets. 
“Do you want to come in?” you asked. Smiling, he nodded and followed you in. You turned the lights on and made your way to the living room. 
“Sit. Do you want a drink?” Pedro stood by the entrance of the living room, his body leaning against the door frame, and stared at you. 
“No.”
“Oh… Do you want water? Or some food?” you said as you moved your weight from one foot to another. Your heels were killing you. 
“No.” he repeated, his voice dark and low. He pushed off the door frame and took a step towards you. 
“Oh.” You swallowed and watched in anticipation as he got closer to you. “What do you want then?” you stuttered. 
“I want you.” He said as he placed his hands on your hips again. “And you?” 
“Me too.” You quickly said before kissing him. 
Pedro groaned into your mouth and grabbed you wherever he could. Your hands were on him like metal on a magnet. He yanked you up, hands on your ass. Your heels fell off, making a loud thump when they reached the floor, but you didn’t care. 
“Careful, my dress.” You breathed. He pulled it up, nearly uncovering your ass, and squeezed your thighs. He pressed you to the wall and continued kissing you. His mouth was wonders on yours, drawing out the dirtiest of noises. 
“My room.” You said. 
Wordlessly, Pedro pulled you off the wall and started making his way to your room with you in his arms. You grabbed his shoulders and felt the muscles underneath the suit. Fuck, you couldn’t wait to tear all this extra fabric off of him. Once you reached your room he dropped you onto your bed and crawled on top of you. 
You pushed the jacket off of him as his lips attached themselves to your neck. Like a starving man, he began kissing and licking your neck. His kisses were soft and harsh at the same time, his tongue sliding over what his teeth marked. You moaned his name and begged for more. 
“Clothes.. there’s too much…” you mumbled pushing him back. He laughed and began unbuttoning his shirt. Impatiently, you pulled his shirt free from his pants and undid the buttons at the bottom. Pedro grabbed your chin and made you look up at him. 
“Patience, mi amor.” he said, a smile creeping onto his face. 
“Don’t laugh at me.” You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“I’m not laughing.” He finished undoing all his button. “You’re so beautiful, I’m just happy.” You felt a rush of heat making its way up your neck and down your stomach. 
“Oh shut up.” You covered your face. 
Slowly, he peeled your hands away from your face and kissed you gently. “You are.” He kissed you again. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” 
He was finally done with all his buttons. You pushed the shirt off of his shoulders and sighed in delight. Your hands went to his stomach, feeling the warm skin, and kissed him right above his belly button. There was a trail of dark hair leading down into his pants and for a moment you wandered if that hair grew there just to tease you. 
He kicked off his shoes and let his shirt fall to the ground. You pushed him onto the bed and pulled your dress up, so it pooled at your hips, in order to straddle him. His hands returned to their familiar positions at your hips, and you took in his chest. 
Sure, you had seen him shirtless before whenever you went to the beach or pool – or when you drunkenly searched up shirtless photos of him with your friends – but you had never seen him laying on your bed like this, his hands on your ass and eyes on your breasts. 
“I think now it’s you who has “too much clothes”.” he said, quoting you. His fingers went to your straps, leaving your ass cold, and with a nod from you, he pushed them off your shoulders. Slowly, the dress fell and left your breasts exposed. You though, you would perhaps want to cover yourself, but something about the way he stared at them made you stand up straighter. 
He sat up, pulling you against him, and kissed your chest. He moved to one breast, planting opened mouthed kisses onto the soft skin and held the other breast with his hands. He gently squeezed and let his mouth hover about your nipple. His breath fanned over it, hardening it. You pushed forward, forcing him to make contact. 
He kissed you softly, like he had all the time in world, and gently. But you wanted more, and you want it now. You had waited too long for it to be this slow. You told him so. 
“I have waited too long for it to go too fast. I’m going to take my time.” You didn’t know what was hotter, the fact he wanted to take his time with you or the fact he had wanted this for a long time too. He kissed you harder and took your nipple between his teeth. You moaned his name and grabbed his hair, tugging on it slightly. This earned you a small groan, you did it again and he groaned your name. 
His hand squeezed your other breast, his fingers pinching and rolling your nipple. You sighed in pleasure and grinded against him. You wanted to feel him everywhere and weren’t sure how long you were going to let him “take his time” with you. He was rock hard and you were dying to see him. Completely see him. 
He moved away from your breast and swapped sides, making sure both sides of you got the same treatment. “Oh, Pedro, fuck.” You said, each moan making him go harder and faster. “Please, I need you…” 
Pedro pulled away and tugged the dress over your hips. You lifted your arms, allowing him to completely take your dress off. He threw it off the side and groaned as he took in your entire body. 
“You’re perfect.” He leaned forward and kissed your chest. You arched your back, pushing yourself towards him. He flipped you over and held himself above you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and tugged him down, wanting to feel his weight on top of you and between your legs. 
“Take your pants off.” You said, your hands fumbling with the belt. “Please.” You added after he gave you a cheeky look. 
Pedro rose and quickly took off his pants. You sat up, resting your weight on your elbows, and let your mouth fall open as you stared at his crotch. His erection was extremely obvious, it was creating a tent in his underwear. He placed his hands at his hips. 
“Wow. Okay. Come here. Now.” You pulled him towards you and kissed him, eager to get to it. 
He kissed you hard, taking your lower lip between his teeth and tugging on it. You couldn’t take it any longer, you stuck your hand between you and down his underwear and wrapped your fingers around him. He winced when you touched him and let his head fall onto your shoulder. 
“I’m sorry, did that hurt?” you went to move your hand away but he grabbed your wrist. 
“Continue.” He begged. “I’m just… really hard.” He laughed, refusing to meet your eyes. You bit your lower lip and attempted to hide the smile that was threatening to jump out. You wrapped your fingers around him again. He was thick and, you quickly discovered, long. You began stroking him and his hips began rolling, meeting you halfway. Some pre-cum leaked out of his tip, wetting your hand. You squeezed your thighs around him, eager to have him inside. 
Almost as though you had requested it, Pedro let one of his hands fall between you. He pressed his thumb against you through your underwear and began rotating it. You moaned, bucking your hips. It felt too good. 
“Please, let’s…” you didn’t have to say anything else. He laid on your side and placed his warm hand on your lower stomach. 
“Is this okay?” he asked, slowly itching downwards. 
“Yes.” 
“If you want me to stop at any time, tell me.” He said as he stared into your soul. 
“Yes.” You looked away, terrified your eyes would betray your deepest secrets. 
“Look at me.” His voice was low and husky, it made that warm feeling in your lower stomach drop lower. You turned to look at him, the hand that wasn’t on your lower stomach tucked your hair behind your ear before returning to its position holding him up. 
He kissed you gently and slowly slipped his hand under your underwear. You gasped as his finger touched you, it was barely anything but with Pedro if felt like everything. He moved his finger in small circles and watched you, entranced by the soft noises you were making. You grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. 
Gradually, he slipped a finger inside of you, just one, and kept it there. You looked at him, mouth slightly open, and nodded. He slipped another finger and curled them. You fell back, unable to support yourself, and squeezed his shoulder harder. Pedro began slipping his fingers in and out, each time he entered you he curled them. His thumb began drawing small circles just where you needed it. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to enjoy the moment, and opened your hips, giving him all the space he could need. 
“Fuck.” You breathed as he stroked something deep inside you. 
You arched your back, pushing your breasts into the air. As though by invitation, Pedro placed his mouth around your breasts and sucked. His kisses were harder this time but you welcomed them. Your hand went to his hair, tugging and scratching his scalp. The joint pleasure coming from his hands and mouth was overwhelming. You pushed your hips onto the bed and breasts into his mouth. 
“Pedro… I’m gonna…” you moaned. He picked up his pace and helped you reach the place you had been chasing. You felt that pleasure ripple through you, erupting from between your legs and reaching all the way down to the tip of your curled toes. It then rushed all the way up and exploded out of your mouth as a series of moans, whimpers, and pleas. 
When you finally came down your chest was rapidly rising and falling, as though you had ran a marathon. Pedro had pulled his finger out from you and was holding them in front of his face. You turned to look at him, your vision slightly blurry, and watched in awe as he slipped his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. 
You pulled him to you, urging him to rest his weight on you, and kissed him. You kissed his neck, his sweat tasted sweet. You licked a line across his jugular vein and felt his rapid heartbeat under your tongue. 
“That was really good.” You said. “Your moans drive me crazy.” 
He rolled his hips against you and you moaned again. “Mmhm, just like that. You like this?” you nodded and he did it again. “What do you want now?” 
“You.” 
“You have me.” You looked over at him and gave him a look. “C’mon, you’re gonna have to be more specific than that.” he pressed his hips against you and arched an eyebrow. 
“Well… Okay…” you looked up, not wanting to reveal how flustered he made you. 
“Yes?” he cupped your jaw and kissed you. 
“I want you in me.” You finally said. 
“Lets get rid of these then, huh?” he said, tugging at your underwear. Pedro kissed his way down your torso until he was level with your hips. He hooked a finger around the band of your underwear and pulled it over your hips, knees, and, eventually, feet. He flicked them off to the side before taking you all in. “Fuck.” He said before planting a kiss right between your legs. He licked once before kissing your inner thigh. Then, he kissed his way back up to your lips. 
“Your turn.” You said, a smile tugging at your lips. Your hands went down to his underwear and you tugged it down, making him completely bare. You glanced down and let your mouth fall open. Pedro wrapped his hand around himself and pumped it a couple times. 
“I’m on the pill.” You blurted out. 
“That’s good.” He said, smiling down at you. 
“Are you- like, clean?” 
“Yes, even though I’m an actor-” 
“And a heartthrob.” You interjected. 
“Yes, right.” He laughed as he made his way back to you. “- I don’t go sleeping around with everyone.” 
“No, yeah, right, I didn’t meant that. Just…” 
“I’m messing, I know what you meant and yes I am. You?” 
You nodded. 
You reached your hands out and placed them on his shoulders, they were broad and warm, his skin felt reassuring under your fingers. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer. Pedro lined himself up and momentarily pushed his hips forward. You sucked in a breath and shut your eyes, your legs squeezing him. 
“Hey, relax, okay?” he kissed you gently and you nodded, relaxing your thighs. He pushed in a little more and you let out a moan. He was stretching and filling you up in all the right ways. He pushed even more and you gripped his shoulders. His head fell beside yours, his voice was sweet like honey and reaching parts of you that you didn’t know existed. His words were carefully and perfectly chosen. 
Finally, he was all the way in. He groaned and rested his weight on you. He was heavy but it felt oddly reassuring, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and sighed, causing him to inch further into you. 
“Please, Pedro, move.” You urged. 
He complied and slowly pulled himself out halfway before sliding back inside. Each movement causing you to moan his name. You arched your back, pressing your chest against his, as he picked up the pace. Your hands were desperately moving up and down his back, one slid down to his ass and you gave it a squeeze. He didn’t seem to mind so you squeezed again. This time he reacted, he pulled himself further out and slammed into you. The noise of his flesh against yours was almost deafening. 
You grabbed his hair and pulled so he turned to look at you. His eyes were half closed, and mouth half opened. You kissed him and he kissed back with a force to match his thrusts. You felt him go deeper and deeper. His hands went to your face, cupping your cheek. You squeezed your legs around him. 
“Can I go on top?” you asked, pulling your lips away from his. 
“Yes, of course.” 
You both awkwardly rolled over and gasped at the new angle. His hands went to your hips, thumbs slowly drawing circles onto the soft skin. You spread your legs and moaned as you sunk further onto him. That feeling that drove you wild was starting to build up again in your lower abdomen. 
His hands started to guide you, urging you to rock forwards and backwards. You gladly complied, moaning at how gratifying it felt. One of his hand went to your left breasts and squeezed it. You leaned towards him and kissed him. His lips were a taste you could not get enough of. His tongue danced around yours at a beautiful pace. You pulled yourself up slightly and lowered again. He gasped. You did it again. He gasped again. 
“You like that?” you said. 
He kissed you harder and began lifting his hips to meet you halfway. As though this was a dance you had practiced for many hours in order to perfect, the two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm. His hand squeezed, tongue licked, hips bucked. It was perfect but it couldn’t last long. 
“I think I’m close.” He said, almost apologetic. 
“Please cum in me.” You begged, surprised at how pathetic you sounded. 
In one quick motion, Pedro spun you around, holding you tight against his chest as he did so. He grabbed your hands and pinned them over your head with just one of his and resumed the thrusting of his hips. Then, his other hand settled between the two of you and his thumb began rapidly circling your clit. 
You moaned and moved, chest pressed against his, legs wrapped around him and quickly squeezed. His movements were becoming irregular and sloppy. 
“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous. I’ve been staring at you all night in that dress. You’re - shit - fucking perfect.” He said as he pounded into you one last time before grunting in pleasure. 
Just then, the overwhelming feeling that had been building itself deep inside of you toppled over. 
“Don’t stop.” You said as you felt him slow down. 
Pedro listened and bucked his hips hard. You pushed your shoulders into the bed, hands tightly gripping his hair, and let yourself enjoy the pleasure. You rolled your hips against him, hyper aware of the warmth shooting into you. You collapsed into the bed, chest heaving even faster that before. 
Pedro collapsed onto you, his weight comfortably crushing you. You stroked his hair as he nuzzled his face into your neck. 
“Was that also really good?” his voice was muffled. 
“Even more.” You said, happily sighing. Pedro pulled away from you as you whined in protest, him leaving your body felt like a betrayal. You were left empty, cold, and bare.
“Gotta get you cleaned up, mi amor.” He laughed. 
He walked into the bathroom and you grinned at the sight. He had an amazing ass. Fuck, you couldn’t look away. You rolled over in the bed to get a better view. Your smiled grew even more when he turned around, his boner not fully gone yet. 
“Damn.” You said. 
“Thanks?” He plopped down on the bed with a towel in hand and helped you get cleaned up. 
Then, you slid under the duvet. He clicked into placed behind you, his arms wrapping around you and dwarfing you. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder and let his fingers dance over your thigh. And into the darkness, he spoke your name. 
“I don’t know what that meant to you…” He began. “But that was special to me. I’ve honestly been wanting to do that for a long while.” 
You froze as though remaining as still as possible would also freeze the moment, like any sound would shatter this dream and forcibly pull you back to a cruel and lonely reality.
“And, erm, you?” he nervously asked when you remained silent. 
You rolled around and stared up at him. “Me too, Pedro. I really like you and not just as a friend.” You smiled and kissed him. 
He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you on top of him. You gasped when you felt something poking your butt. 
“Put that away!” 
“You don’t want a round two?” he smirked. 
“Pedro!”
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