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bananami · 4 months

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STFUATTDLAGG

character/s: choso kamo x afab!reader

SYNOPSIS: meangirl!reader x loser!choso is a pairing that lives in my head rent free so when you all voted for choso to be the next hot man i wrote for i knew this was what would come out of it so let’s get into it whores

WARNINGS: this is college based bc u know why. 18+, nsfw, mdni, the whole shebang, kiddos avert ur eyes IT'S ALL SMUT / also just be aware i did use fem language for reader. as always, i did not proof read xxx

A/N: delusion is like drugs for simps, and i am the crackhead

Choso isn't like a nerdy loser, more like he’s just an emo boy, he’s got that alternative look going on and in a school full of preppy rich kids he stands out like a sore thumb. Of course this leads to some not so nice kids being not so nice to him, to which like he literally could not care less. He pays no mind to what anyone thinks of him beyond of course what his brothers think of him.

And as much as people aren’t nice to him, they do not fuck with him directly, lowkey scared of his reactions. Especially following a specfic incident in which someone tried to pick a fight with him. At first he was going to just let it slide but then they said something rude about Yuuji and this man laid them out. People were sent to urgent care and everything. Choso was put on suspension and almost kicked out, but their family friend is a lawyer and threatened to sue the school and anyways (if you know who you know who) so he was allowed back at school and everyone’s a little weary of him. This doesn’t stop the mean comments from coming.

And you. You’re no exception. You made fun of him every chance you got. The way he always did his hair in that weird double bun updo, or how he had his nails painted black, his various piercings and tattoos, the way he dressed so much different, was so much different, than any of the other guys you knew at school.

And you were so disgustingly attracted to him. While everyone would sneer and make fun of him and you played along, in reality you were internally berating yourself.

Choso did his best to ignore you but to be honest in the end you were just too fun to mess with. He thought it was cute how you thought you could hurt his feelings, how you really tried, and didn’t realize that he had a thing for brats and that’s just what you were. Everyone else was too afraid to say it straight to his face ever since the fight except for you.

One time he caught you staring at him and he couldn’t help himself, leaning over with a careless smirk. "If you spent less time staring at me and more time paying attention to the lecture maybe you wouldn’t be failing the class."

"Fuck you, Choso.”

"You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You hoped he’d mistake your embarrassment for anger. He didn’t. You snapped back, as usual. "Maybe if you didn’t dress like such a freak, you’d actually have some friends.”

"Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch your boyfriends would actually stick around for longer than a few months."

The one stung, and you tried not to let it show. Thrown off your game, all you could bring yourself to reply back was: “don’t call me a bitch.”

He shrugged, as though he were bored with the conversation already. "I never said it was a bad thing, just that you keep dating dudes who can’t handle you."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

He doesn't answer though, and you spend way too much time thinking about what he could've meant. Was he implying that he could handle you? Was that why he constantly found ways to poke at you? Did he like when you were a brat? Did it matter if he liked it? It led your fantasies down a deep and dark rabbit hole that you spent weeks harping on.

Things get even worse after you realize that Choso might’ve been right about your grades slipping and staring at him in class and whatnot. And (for plot reasons of course) that would mean your professor paired you up with him for the final project so that you’d stand a better chance at passing the class.

Which is how you find yourself standing outside of his apartment door, debating how much you need to actually pass the course for your degree. You kept coming to the same conclusion. You definitely needed to.

"You just gonna stand at my door like a creep or can you move so i can let you inside?” He stood at the top of the staircase up to his apartment, watching you with another bored expression.

You're reaction is second nature. "I’m the creep? How long were you just standing there watching me? Maybe I’d already knocked and you didn’t answer so I was waiting. Let’s get on with it, I don’t need anyone seeing me hanging around-”

"Alright relax, princess. No one’s around to hear you act like you hate me. Come inside and I’ll grab us something to drink.” He opened the door to let you both inside, holding it open for you to enter first.

"First off, I do hate you. And second, how do I know you’re not going to poison me?”

"Don’t worry, I wouldn’t poison you. The plan was going more in the direction of choking.”

"Choked to death? Good to know.”

"You implied killing. All i said was choking.”

"Oh, gross.” You groaned. You pushed away the images that were brought to your mind. Choso's hand around your throat, fingers in your mouth, his breathy whispers telling you what else he'd have you choking on by the end of the night.

It's not too bad for the first few hours. You start out working on the project in the living room, but Choso’s neighbors are loud as all hell and you eventually ask if you guys can move into a room away from that shared wall. And (of course for plot purposes) that would be his bedroom.

"Your bedroom is exactly as I pictured it would be."

"This is the part where I make fun of you for picturing what my bedroom looks like."

"Yeah weird and creepy, just like you.”

"Your insults are getting less and less creative.”

"Yeah well….shut up.”

He’s surprised at that, usually you’d come back at him with something witty and clever and he actually enjoyed it.

It’s quiet and he’s sitting at his desk while you lay casually on his bed when he decides now’s as good a time as ever, and he might never actually get you alone again to say it.

"You ever gonna admit that you find me attractive or keep lying to the both of us?"

You wince. "I don't find you attractive. Stop flattering yourself."

"You flatter me enough with all the staring and drooling you do over me in class."

"You're obsessive," you snap at him.

"At least i can admit it."

You're caught off guard, stuck between wanting to ask what he means and not wanting to give in to the obvious baiting he's doing. When he throws the study material down on to his desk and plops down in front of you on his bed, it seems like he's resigned to not giving you that choice.

"Tell you what, I'll tell you all of the dirty and depraved things I think about on a daily basis, and you can decide after whether you'd like to share those same thoughts of yours with me or not."

"Why would I want to hear any of the thoughts in your head?"

"Because a lot of them revolve directly around you." He's leaned so close you're almost touching one another. Your silence is enough to spur him on. "I think you've never been fucked properly before."

You can't contain the look that falls on your face. "Seriously? This what you think about? My sex life is none of your business, but I'm doing just fine in that department, thank you very much."

He ignores you. "I don't think you've ever been told to shut the fuck up and take it like the good girl I know you can be." That shut you up real quick. Choso is on his knees in front of you, hands cupping around your neck, his thumbs running across your cheeks. "You're whiney little fucking attitude not do it for your boyfriends?" He teased. "They not know how to deal with you when you're being a brat, huh?"

You're head moves without conscious effort, nodding to agree with him.

"You just want some attention, don't you?"

Another nod.

"You want my attention, don't you?"

Hesitation. But you can't help yourself, his presence looming heavy over you, pushing you to admit what you'd kept in the dark for so long.

One of his hands slithers from your throat, down your chest, under the sweats you threw on in a rush to get to his apartment. You're so distracted by his fingers that you don't notice his face moving closer until his mouth is prying yours open. That's all it takes from him to have you stroking your fingers through his hair, pulling it out of the buns they typically are held in.

"Such a little brat." He's hovering over you, pushing your hips into the soft cushion of his bed with his. "Feel how hard it makes me?" He teases as he grinds his hips down, his clothed cock sliding against your center. Your eyes flutter and he grips onto your face with one hand, squeezing firmly. "You're gonna fuck me tonight. Nod if you understand."

You can't believe how quick your head moves up and down. "You're gonna take off those pretty little panties you wore hoping I'd get to see and slide up and down my dick until I tell you to stop. I don't want you cumming until I feel you've begged enough."

It takes no time at all for him to flip the two of you and prop himself up on his forearms. His pants are shimmied off and thrown to his bedroom floor alongside yours.

Your hands are desperate to line him up, anticipation building to have him deep inside of you, but his shoot out to pull them up and place them against his chest. "No, no, no. You don't get me inside you yet, not until you prove to me you deserve it." He urges you along his shaft, flat against his stomach. "That's right, be a good little slut for me and let me feel that pussy slide against my dick."

You watch him from above, his face contorting from concentration to pleasure to near desperation. You've never felt as powerful as you did riding him. Not a single one of your boyfriends ever turning you on as much as Choso was right now. He made you work for it, praising you when you did what he asked, and you chased that praise.

"Shit, look at that baby," he grabbed your hair and yanked your face down to watch yourself slide against him. "Need to feel you squeeze that pussy around me. Fuck, slide me in, slide me in-" his loud groans matched your high pitched sound of relief at having him seated inside you. "Fuck this."

He flipped the two of you back over, gripping each of your legs and forcing them up. "Hold right under your knees for me. Good girl, keep yourself open for me, let me just use you." He fell to his forearms as he plowed into you, giving you no time to get used to any sort of pace.

You tried your best to hold your legs, but you wanted so badly to touch him. One of your hands wandered back up into his lose hair.

He could barely keep his eyes open, mumbling all kinds of truths you were sure he would've kept locked inside had he not been so drunk on the feel of being inside you. "So fucking pretty," he kissed you sloppily, "such a stupid fucking brat, just needed my cock inside you. Feel like heaven, baby. Gonna let me cum inside your little cunt, right? Made me wait so fucking long to have you, I deserve it. Don't I deserve it?"

You can barely form any coherent words, setting for nodding and breathy uh huhs.

"So fucking mean to me, and look how good I'm being to you, huh?" You feel the light slap of his head against your cheek. "Say your sorry, beg me to cum inside your pussy."

You do beg, your apology comes out in between the stuttering and slurring of your words, but you beg and plead with him until he concedes. It his own orgasm that pushes you over, his groans and relentlessness that follow, pushing himself passed the point of no return. You can see the beginning of what looks like tears in his eyes, and he has to force himself to stop, his hips jerking from the overstimulation.

He kisses you ruthlessly, letting his tongue claim your mouth in a manner more harsh than it is anything else. And when he pulls away and his eyes settle back on yours they're equally as harsh.

"No more shitty little boyfriends that can't handle you. I'll handle you. You want my cock, you ask nicely. Understand?"

"Yes," you let your lips peck his, surprising him, "what if I don't wanna be nice about it?"

He smirks, "try it and find out. Now get on your knees and suck my cock like the good girl I know you can be."

#choso x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #choso smut #jjk choso #choso x you #choso x female reader #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen choso

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andvys · 1 year

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It's just us | S.H.

Warnings: 18+, angst, cheating (reader and Steve get cheated on by their partners), heartbreak, betrayal, enemies to lovers, King!Steve, smut, breeding kink, mention of pregnancy, r and Steve are both over the age of 18, mentions of reader having nipple piercings

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You and Steve hated each other from the first moment you met but when you get betrayed by the people you love the most, all you have is each other.

Word count: 8k+

Author's note: I was really fucking close to making this an Eddie fic or at least a Steddie fic cause Eddie Munson owns me but this one is for my Steve girlies and for the ones who asked me to write for him before so here ya go. And I'm back to focusing on my one and only

stranger things masterlist

part two (steddie x reader)

There was one person that you hated more than anything, Steve Harrington. From the first moment you have laid your eyes on him, you just couldn’t stand him. You hated his cocky and arrogant personality, his perfect reputation, how sure of himself he always was. You hated King Steve, you hated the way he looked at you, you hated the way he used every opportunity to piss you off, he said things that he knew would get under your skin.

He hated you too, he hated how loved you were, he hated how popular you were. Both of you rivaled each other, he was the captain of the basketball team and you were the head cheerleader. In a perfect world, you would be together and people would call you a dream couple but instead you two hated each other’s guts.

You threw nasty words at each other, bickering every time you were around each other. You avoided him as much as he avoided you and for a while it worked until he started dating your best friend, Nancy.

Over were the peaceful lunch breaks at the cafeteria where you would only sit with her and your boyfriend. Steve started tagging along with her, greeting you with cocky grins and mocking waves whenever he would sit down opposite of you.

Not only were you forced to spend every lunch break with him, you also had to tolerate him during movie nights, parties and even worse, double dates.

You hated him more and more.

You thought that your boyfriend would take your side, joining in on the Steve Harrington hate train but oddly enough, they became friends.

Months went by and you had hoped that Nancy would realize what a douchebag King Steve is, leave his ass in the dust and find another boyfriend but she seemed happy and he did too.

Nancy and Steve were happy.

Jonathan and Steve got along.

Everyone got along, except for you and him. You hated him but god, you grew to love the fights and the bickering, you found entertainment in them. You loved pissing him off, loved teasing him, loved throwing mean words at him even when you knew that he would do the same and say something hurtful in return.

Yes, Steve Harrington got under your skin but you got under his too. It was clear, the way his cheeks turned red and his eyes flashed with anger, he would clench his jaw and his fists before he’d turn away from you.

“Tina is throwing a party this friday, are we going?” You ask, batting your eyelashes at your boyfriend and your best friend.

“Of course, we’re going,” Steve says.

You rolled your eyes as you turned to look at him, “I wasn’t talking to you, Harrington.”

Jonathan sighs, mumbling your name in annoyance.

You ignored him, continuing to look into hazel eyes with a challenging look on your face.

“Bitch,” Steve mumbles.

“Steve!” Nancy exclaims, turning towards her boyfriend with wide eyes, “that wasn’t nice.”

“Aw,” he shrugs, throwing his arm around her shoulder, he turns back to you, giving you a small smirk, “I’m sorry, queen y/n.”

You scrunch your face up in annoyance, he knows you hate when people call you that.

Rolling your eyes, you reach for the fries on your boyfriend’s plate, throwing some at the man in front of you, “shut up, asshole.”

He dodges the fries, laughing when they hit some kid behind him.

“Are you gonna wear one of those ugly leather jackets again?” He asks you, “they make you look cheap, y/n.”

A laugh falls from your lips, you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest, “at least I don’t let my mom buy my clothes,” you say as your eyes trail down his shirt, “seriously, have you ever stepped foot inside a store yourself? Your mommy still dresses you up like you’re some innocent little virgin.”

His smile falls and he scoffs at you, “I’m not a virgin.”

“I know, you’re a whore in virgin’s clothes.”

He raises his eyebrows at you, “seriously?” He snorts, “you wanna call me a whore now?”

You are both so caught up in each other, you don’t notice the stolen glances between your boyfriend and his girlfriend, the longing gazes, the forbidden touches between the table as they reach for the other’s hand.

If you paid more attention, you would have noticed it a long time ago already but you were focused on other things.

Jonathan was a loving and sweet boyfriend, you had no reason not to trust him.

If you would’ve just known..

“Are we gonna go to the movies tonight?” You ask as you finally turn away from Steve and look at your boyfriend, smiling at him, you’re unable to see the guilt in his eyes.

He blinks, coughing nervously.

Nancy looks down at her food tray, pushing around the salad she hasn’t touched, her cheeks are red, her brows are furrowed.

You don’t notice how weird they are both being but Steve does, it is something he hasn’t noticed before but feels like it’s always been there, the tension in Jonathan’s shoulders, the distant look in his eyes, the furrowed brows as he looks down at you.

“Uh, shit, I-I no, I forgot to tell you, I’m taking Will to the record store tonight and he asked for a movie night,” he explains.

Steve expects you to frown at his words, sigh sadly and mumble a quiet ‘oh’ but instead your eyes light up and you grab Jonathan’s shoulder, “oh! Can I come with you?” You ask excitedly. Steve might not know much about you except for the very obvious things but he knows how much you love spending time with Will.

“We just wanna have a boys night, next time, alright?”

Now your smile falls, only for just a second but Steve sees it, he sees the disappointment in your eyes, the one you quickly mask with a pretentious smile, “oh that’s fine, umm I hope you’re going to have lots of fun,” you say, leaning in to kiss his cheek, he gives you a smile, one that doesn’t even reach his eyes. You lay your head on his shoulder, linking your arm with him.

A weird feeling settles in the pit of Steve’s stomach, he leans back and stares at the man in front of him, he sees the way his eyes meet Nancy’s blue ones, it just for a split second but he sees it.

A few months ago, he wouldn’t question it. He never had a problem with their friendship, Jonathan was her friend before he became her boyfriend and you never had a problem with their friendship either, you trusted them.

Maybe you shouldn’t have.

Steve doesn’t know why but he can’t shake the feeling that something is off, that things have been off for a long time now. He tells himself that he is overthinking things, that he lets his anxious thoughts get the best of him but they had only gotten worse when Nancy canceled their date after he had dropped her off at home, he was excited to take her out, he had it all planned, he would take her to dinner and movies and afterwards they’d watch the stars at lovers lake but instead he was left in the cold after she told him that she couldn’t go out with him because she had to help Mike with his homework. Mike, who was here at Benny’s diner with Will, Dustin and Lucas.

“What the fuck,” he mumbles as he stands there, staring at them with a dumbfound expression on his face.

Mike was clearly not in need of help for his homework and Will didn’t seem to have plans for a movie night any time soon. Someone drove them here but it wasn’t Jonathan, no, it was Eddie Munson who jumped into the empty seat next to Dustin as he held some book in his hand.

Slowly he started piecing everything together and as he thought of all the times Nancy had canceled their dates at the same time as Jonathan had canceled yours, his stomach dropped. Those weird looks both of them shared earlier today just added to his worry.

He forgot about the order he had placed and rushed out of the diner, ignoring the waitress who called for him when she held the bag and a drink in her hand. His mind was running wild as the worst scenarios rushed through his thoughts.

He doesn’t even remember how he got into the car or how he drove all the way to the Wheeler’s house. His heart was racing and his hands were clenched into fists, he was nervous and the anger inside of him was already building up.

He had suspicions but he didn’t want to dwell on them, not yet. But when he climbed up the wall to his girlfriend’s window, hoping to find her studying or listening to music, he didn’t find her doing any of those things. Instead, he caught her having sex with your boyfriend.

He grips the wall tighter when he almost loses his footing. He can’t even stop the gasp from escaping as his eyes widen.

His girlfriend is having sex with your boyfriend.

Nancy is fucking Jonathan, Nancy who is your best friend.

He stares in shock, frozen in place and with a broken heart he stares at them. Jonathan’s hands are on her waist, gripping her tightly as she bounces on his cock. She bites her lip to stay quiet.

The bile rises in his throat, he feels sick, he feels betrayed and angry.

He turns away and closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before he jumps down into the grass. He almost throws up into Karen’s beloved flowers but he holds himself together, at least for now.

Tears brim in his eyes, he doesn’t understand.

Why would she do this to him?

Why would she hurt him like this?

Why would she cheat on him?

Why would she do this to you?

You have always been her best friend, you grew up together, your mom’s are best friends. You have always been by her side, you have done everything for her. You could’ve chosen other friends, you could’ve been friends with other popular girls like Chrissy Cunningham but no, you stayed friends with Nancy.

And Jonathan… Now, Steve had become friends with him when he started dating her and thought that Jonathan was actually a pretty decent guy but before that, he had always wondered why you even gave him the time of your day. You are the popular and annoyingly happy cheerleader and he is just, well, he is Jonathan. The boring freak. But then again, rumor has it that you have always liked to associate with men who weren’t anywhere near your league and apparently you liked to fuck freaks, that’s something that Steve could never believe. You were a good girl, you had that innocence in your eyes that told him that rumors were just rumors.

For some time, Steve thought that you were playing a prank on Jonathan, that you dated him for a bet but when a year had passed and you still looked at him with those stupid heart eyes, he knew you were serious about him.

Now he feels like throwing up, he isn’t just angry for himself, he is also angry for you. If the betrayal hurt him so much, what would it do to you?

The moment he steps into his bathroom, he drops to his knees and pukes his lunch out.

God, he has never felt this sick in his life before. How will he ever move on from this?

He loves her with all his heart but he is so incredibly angry and hurt. He spends the rest of the night crying, unable to catch a moment of peace. He stares at the ceiling as he lays in his lonely bed, tears stream down his face as his mind replays the horrible things he had seen.

What should he do?

Should he confront them? Should he break up with her? Should he make a scene and humiliate them in front of the whole school? No, he is not like that and he wouldn’t do this to you.

He doesn’t know what to do. So he pretends that everything is fine.

He takes a shower, styles his hair and picks out an outfit that you won’t tease him for. He drinks his coffee and then he picks up Nancy but the moment he lays his eyes on her and she gives him that cheerful smile and kiss on the lips, he feels himself growing sick again. How could she pretend that nothing happened? How could she kiss him like this when her lips touched his last night?

The anger diminished a little only to rush back even more intensely when he was forced to greet Jonathan at school. God, he wants to punch him so hard, he has to restrain himself from doing so. Especially when he lays eyes on you. A big smile is resting on your face, your eyes are shining with happiness, your perfect ponytail is bouncing as you rush through the hallways with your pretty little cheerleader uniform. You wrap your arms around your boyfriend’s waist and lay your head on his back, “hi babe, I missed you so much last night.”

“I missed you too, y/n,” Jonathan says as he smiles, placing his hand over yours.

Steve grows hatred for the man and for his girlfriend when he feels her squeezing his hand.

He can’t even stop the scoff before it falls from his lips, causing all three of you to look at him in confusion.

“Is everything okay?” Nancy asks, feigning concern.

He nods.

You raise your eyebrows at him, a cocky smirk tugging at your lips, “ooh, did someone had a rough night?”

Yes and you’d be having one too if you knew that your boyfriend was buried in my girlfriend last night, Steve thinks to himself.

He doesn’t say anything, instead he shuts his locker and turns away from the three of you, “I gotta go to class,” he mumbles without giving Nancy a goodbye kiss or Jonathan a pat on the back the way he always does. He bumps into someone, not bothering to apologize, he grumpily mutters something under his breath.

“Who pissed in his coffee this morning?” You chuckle, missing the way Nancy and Jonathan looked at each other.

“I- he probably got into a fight with his dad again,” Nancy says, shrugging nervously.

You step away from Jonathan, walking towards your best friend, you take her hand in yours, “is everything alright between the two of you?”

She blinks, looking over your shoulder and back to you, she nods, “y-yeah, totally,” she smiles, shaking her head.

“Okay, good,” you smile, squeezing her hand, “but I’m always here for you and you can talk to me, okay?”

She looks down, nodding at your words, “yeah, I know.”

“Alright, well, I think we should go shopping after school, I need some new party outfits.”

“Oh, I-I can’t, y/n. I already have an outfit and I was supposed to look after Holly today.”

You frown at her words, a sad look flashes in her eyes.

“You are a busy girl, Nancy Wheeler.”

Steve was being weird, well, he was always being weird but something about him today was just off. Not only did he pay no mind to you, he also ignored Jonathan and Nancy.

No comments were thrown your way today, no mean words, no remarks, he didn’t tease you or even glare at you. Nothing. You saw him talking to Robin Buckley when you were on your way to the bathroom. He looked like was on the verge of tears and the girl comforted him with a hand on his shoulder and words you couldn’t make out.

Seeing him like this makes you feel weird, you don’t really care about him but you care about your friend and there’s clearly something going on between them and you are certain about that when you sit down beside Jonathan in the cafeteria. Just like yesterday, you sit across from Steve but instead of meeting his teasing eyes, you meet his angry ones, though you feel that the anger isn’t directed at you but at someone else.

You try to ignore him and the way his gaze seems to be getting more and more intense. He watches you and Jonathan, a frown deep in his features as he watches how your boyfriend kisses you like nothing ever happened.

You don’t know.

You don’t know what he is doing behind your back.

You don’t know that he is hurting you, that he is cheating on you with your best friend.

How long have they been going behind your backs?

Has this been happening when you were all together at parties? When you went to the lakehouse his dad owns? God, he could scream and expose their disgusting secrets to the whole school.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Nancy asks as she puts her hand on Steve’s thigh. He tenses up, clenching his jaw as he turns to look at her.

“No, I’m not hungry, Nancy.”

Your eyes flash with surprise, the tone in his voice was filled with anger.

She looks taken aback, furrowing her brows at her boyfriend’s behavior, “you barely touched your food–”

“I said I’m not hungry!” He snaps at her.

Before any of you can even react, he gets up and storms out of the cafeteria, not caring about the prying eyes of the other students.

You frown at his behavior, growing angry when you see the tears in Nancy’s eyes.

“That asshole,” you mumble, getting up, you follow him out, ignoring Jonathan’s and Nancy’s calls.

You slam the doors to the hallway open, rushing towards him with anger in your bones.

“Steve!”

He keeps walking, ignoring you.

“Hey!”

He abruptly turns around, throwing his hands up, he sighs, “what!?”

“What?” You scoff, “what the fuck was that? Why are you being so mean?”

He laughs at your words, closing his eyes, he pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head.

“She didn’t do anything to you, Steve.”

“If only you knew.”

Something about the way he said it and looked at you, sent shivers down your spine.

Instead of the usual hatred and anger you see in his eyes, you find empathy in them. Why? It makes you nervous.

“W-What do you mean?” You ask.

Steve knows that you won’t believe him, you gotta see it with your own eyes, you don’t deserve this. You love Jonathan, you have always been good to him. You deserve better and he knows he does too.

“Steve,” you mumble, “what do you mean?”

You have got to know. You’re a smart girl, you should’ve noticed the way your best friend and boyfriend behaved around you, the way they looked at each other, the way they touched each other.

Right now, he doesn’t hate you, he just feels sorry for you.

“Go to Nancy’s house this afternoon.”

“No, she– Steve!”

He walks away before giving you an explanation, leaving you standing there like a fool.

What is this about?

Usually, you would never listen to him, you wouldn’t do what he had told you to do. You wouldn’t go to Nancy’s house if you didn’t have your own suspicions already, the ones that made you feel sick for the longest time.

His seriousness and his anger is what made you feel scared.

He wasn’t mean to you today, he didn’t even glare at you, that’s how you knew that something was very off.

So you listened to him, you went to Nancy’s house. You didn’t want to but on the way home from the mall, you drove by her house and found Jonathan’s car in the driveway.

Nothing weird about it right? They are friends, they are allowed to be friends.

Yet, you can’t shake that awful feeling that something horrible is about to happen. So you park the car and make your way inside her house, using the spare key that she gave you years ago.

The house is empty, Karen isn’t there and neither is Ted. Holly and Mike are nowhere to be seen. You don’t call out for Nancy the way you usually would. With a nervous sigh, you grip the keys tighter in your hand and climb up the stairs.

You hear music coming from her room, The Cure. Nancy doesn’t listen to The Cure but your boyfriend does. You hear the noises, you hear them.

With a shaky hand, you open the door and as you lay eyes on the two of them, your heart drops and a gasp falls from your lips as you raise your hand to cup your mouth.

There he is, your boyfriend, shoving his tongue down your best friend’s throat. Both of them are half naked, her chest is covered in hickeys already, his hair is a mess, both of them moaning into each other’s mouths as she moves her hand into his pants.

“What the fuck?”

They jump apart when they hear your voice, staring at each other like deers caught in headlights before they look at you.

Her blue eyes widen as do his.

No longer do their cheeks glow red, instead they look pale when they see you standing there with tears in your eyes and anger on your face.

“Fuck– y/n!” He scrambles to his feet, trying to find his shirt.

Nancy looks away from you, crossing her arms over her chest, she suddenly feels too ashamed to meet your eyes.

“You are fucking disgusting,” you mumble angrily, ignoring the heartbreak in your chest or the feeling of your throat getting tighter. The tears begin to spill and you look between them in shock.

Jonathan takes a step towards you.

“Don’t come anywhere near me, Byers. We’re fucking over!”

His eyes widen, his lips part as he tries to speak but no words leave his mouth.

“And you, fuck you, Nancy.”

You don’t care to look back at them, rushing out of the house as quickly as you came. You wipe away the angry tears, biting down on your quivering lip as you get back in your car.

You knew it. You’re no fool. You knew it. You just made yourself believe that you didn’t but deep down you always knew. Who were you trying to fool? It was so clear.

Can you even feel heartbroken? You set yourself up for it when you started dating the guy who always saw her.

Maybe Steve should’ve told you, maybe he shouldn’t have told you to go to her place, maybe he should’ve protected you from seeing that. But did he have a choice? You hate him, you wouldn’t have believed him, you would’ve scoffed at him and laughed in his face.

But still, he should’ve told you.

He shouldn’t have let you see that.

Now he feels guilty for it, despite the ache in his chest and the betrayal he still tries to deal with, he feels guilty for not telling you.

You are pretending to be fine when you’re not.

You didn’t come to school on Wednesday, Thursday or today but here you are at Tina’s party, dressed in the skimpiest outfit you could find, throwing back one drink after the other, yet you don’t seem to be getting drunk but it’s only as he notices you pouring yourself coke instead of alcohol that he realizes you aren’t here to get drunk.

You are here because you don’t want to be alone, just like him. He had a feeling that you would come, that was another reason why he came.

The loud music is hurting his ears and the whiskey is starting to give him a headache. He places his drink on a small table. Running his hand through his messy hair, he pushes past a group of girls who begin to whisper behind his back. Nancy’s and Jonathan’s name falling from their lips. He decides to ignore it.

His focus is on something else, you. You’re standing by the punch with Heather Holloway, giggling about something she had whispered in your ear.

Should he talk to you?

You down the rest of your drink and place the cup on the counter, gesturing to the stairs as you leave your friend. He decides to follow you and calls your name.

You turn around, smile disappearing from your face when your eyes lock with his, an eye roll and a scoff is all he gets.

He rolls his eyes too, what else did he expect, a hug?

“Can we talk?” He has to yell for you to understand him.

You only shake your head and continue your way up the stairs.

“Please?”

Once you stop in front of a door, you turn around and look up at him, “no.” You slam the door in his face, causing him to sigh.

He leans against the wall, deciding to wait for you.

What does he even want to say to you? Does he even want to say anything to you?

When you walk back out, he doesn’t even give you a chance, he takes your hand in his, ignoring your protests or your light slap to his back.

“Let go of me, Harrington!”

“Nope,” he mumbles as he pulls you into an empty and dark room, he pushes against the wall before he turns to close and lock the door, leaving you in complete darkness.

“What the hell do you want from me?”

Steve frowns.

“Shit, hold on,” he mumbles, “I can’t find the light switch.”

“Seriously?”

You can hear him moving around, cursing under his breath. Maybe it would’ve been funny under different circumstances, if you were locked in a room with someone other than King Steve.

“Got it,” he mumbles as he turns on the lights.

Your arms are crossed and a frown is on your face, lips set in a pout.

“I uh– I heard you broke up with Jonathan?”

You squint your eyes, “that’s what you wanna talk about? What the fuck do you really want?”

“I should’ve told you, I shouldn’t have sent you there,” he admits in guilt, giving you a sad look.

You scoff at his words, rolling your eyes, “yeah right, you want me to believe that, Steve?”

“It’s the truth, I’m very sorry,” he says, “about everything. You don’t deserve this, they’re fucking assholes for doing– for you know–”

“For cheating on us?”

He glances at you and for the first time he sees something other than hatred, empathy, you feel for him just like he feels for you but it’s obvious that you still don’t like him.

“I-I can’t imagine what it must feel like for you,” he mumbles, “she’s been your best friend since you were kids and he–”

“Fuck them both,” you mumble, rolling your eyes.

You are in denial about your feelings, pretending to be fine so you don’t have to confront your pain. He can see it in your eyes though, the pain they left behind.

“When did you find out?” You ask.

“The day before you did. I went to the diner and saw Will and Mike there and I knew that they both lied, I went to her house and.. yeah.” He can’t bring himself to say it, he doesn’t have to. You know it.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

He looks confused almost, shaking his head slightly, “you wouldn’t have believed me?”

“You expect me to believe that that’s the reason why you didn’t just tell me?”

“That is the reason!”

You walk closer to him as tears well up in your eyes, “fuck you, Steve Harrington! Fuck you. You sent me there to taunt me! I know you caught them and you wanted me to catch them too, you wanted me to feel what you felt, you wanted me to suffer, you’re a fucking dick, Steve! I hate you!”

His eyes flash with anger, he scoffs at you, clenching his jaw.

“Go on, let it all out.” He nods.

He might not know as well as your friends do but he can tell that you were pushing the pain back, you refused to cry over a man who cheated on you and over a best friend who betrayed you in the most hurtful way.

You are dealing with your emotions by using him as a punching bag and he doesn’t like it, so he decides to do something else.

“Y-You are such a–” He cuts you off by grabbing your cheeks and smashing his lips against yours, he kisses you roughly.

Your eyes widen and you squeal in surprise.

What the fuck?

Steve Harrington is kissing you.

He is kissing you and you fucking like it. Your life couldn’t have been more of a mess. First your boyfriend cheats on you with your best friend that he dated and now he is kissing you. He is supposed to hate you, he is supposed to be horrible to you but instead he is kissing you in a way you have never been kissed before.

Fuck it.

His lips tastes like cheery coke and he smells so fucking good.

You throw your arms around his shoulders and close your eyes as you kiss him back. He moans against you, the sound shoots straight to your core. You move your hand into his hair, gripping it and pulling his perfectly styled hair.

His hands slide down to your waist and he pushes you further into the room without breaking the kiss that grows heavier by the second. He grabs your ass, squeezing it tightly with his large hands, earning a moan from you. Steve smirks against your lips as he presses himself against you.

“S-Steve,” you whimper as you break the kiss, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You ask the man you are supposed to hate.

He presses another kiss to your lips before he pulls away, staring at you with his hazel eyes that hold both pain and anger, “why do they get to have all the fun?”

You swallow nervously, you hate him, you hate him so much and yet you find yourself longing for him, for his touch, for his lips.

He leans in again but you push him back weakly.

“No,” you whisper, “I hate you.”

“Yeah?” He rasps against your lips, “feeling’s mutual, honey. That’s okay, we don’t have to like each other, right?”

You blink, shrugging, your eyes flicker down to his lips, “I-I guess not.”

“You can mark me up, show her who fucked me,” he tells you as he pushes you down onto the soft bed, playing with the hem of your skirt, “you can let your anger out on me, I don’t mind.”

“You really wanna fuck me?” You ask as you chase after his lips, kissing them almost a little too softly.

“Fuck yes, I do,” he murmurs as he latches his lips onto your neck, spreading your legs so he can settle in between them, “I wanna rip your skimpy little clothes off, make you scream my name.”

His lips are soft yet rough as he marks your neck, he sucks and bites on your skin, squeezing your waist tightly with his hands as he grinds his clothed dick against your aching cunt.

“What makes you think that I’ll scream your name?” You ask, closing your eyes and furrowing your brows as you moan at the feeling of him. God, you can already tell that he is big.

“You will moan my name.”

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he says in a way that sends shivers down your spine, your pussy clenches around nothing.

“Do it then because he never could.”

A smirk grows on his face.

“You wanna fuck me to get back at him?” You ask, “do it then.”

Before you know it, he rips your top off, throwing it over his shoulder before your bra joins it on the floor. Lust fills his eyes and his cheeks flush red when he sees your nipple piercings, “holy fuck,” he mumbles, staring at you with a dumbfound expression as he grabs your boobs, touching your sensitive nipples with his fingers, “shit… the good little cheerleader has her nipples pierced?”

You look up at him with a pleading look in your eyes, moaning as he continues to roll your nipples. You grab his hand, bringing it up to your face, you wrap your lips around his thumb and begin to suck on it.

His eyes widen yet again, pants growing tighter as his cock hardens in his tight jeans.

“Fuck, you’re a little freak aren’t you?” He smirks darkly, “Byers couldn’t handle all of that, huh? Guess he wasn’t the freak after all, it was you.”

He really couldn’t. It was only ever lazy sex with him, sloppy blowjobs and making love. You didn’t want to make love, you wanted to be fucked like a whore.

You shake your head at him and spread your legs, letting your skirt slide up.

“Shut up and fuck me before I find someone else.”

“Shit,” he mumbles as his eyes fall on your lacy red underwear, your already soaked underwear, it makes his dick twitch in his pants.

“You shut up, princess. I’m not letting anyone fuck you, you’re mine tonight.”

He drops to his knees in front of you, grabbing your ankles, he slides his hand up to your thigh, teasing you by rubbing your clit over your panties.

“Look at you, your panties are soaked,” he teases, smirking at the way you bite your lip to stop the moans from falling. He grabs the thin material, ripping it off and throwing it on the ground.

Your eyes widen and you lean on your elbows, staring at him with a disapproving look on your face. The panties that you had bought a few days ago are now on the floor, ripped apart.

“Steve–”

“Yeah, Yeah,” he rolls his eyes as he places your legs over his shoulders, “I’ll buy you new ones.”

He presses a teasing kiss on your clit, smirking when you whine at his action.

“You’re so fucking wet, honey. Is that all for me? I thought you hated me.”

“God, fucking shut up and d–” He cuts you off, gripping your hips tighter, he licks up stripe up your pussy, moaning at your taste, “you shut up,” he mumbles before he buries his face in your cunt. Nudging his nose against your aching clit as he slips his tongue inside of you.

“Oh my god,” you whimper as you slap your hand over your mouth, not wanting to give the satisfaction that he is making you moan.

He grunts against you, sliding his hand up your body, he cups your boob and tugs at your nipple, earning a gasp from you.

“Steve!”

“Hand off your mouth, y/n,” he says, glaring at you with dark eyes, “let me hear your moans.”

You roll your eyes and put your hand down.

“Good girl.” He mumbles, eyes twinkling with mischief when he sees your flustered expression, he feels you clench around his fingers as he pushes two inside of you, “fuck, you’re tight, how am I gonna fit inside of you?”

His words cause you to roll your eyes again, he will never stop being cocky.

Moans and whimpers echo through the room when he begins to eat you out, switching his fingers with his tongue as he grabs your ass and holds you even tighter than before when you begin to squirm beneath him.

You reach down, gripping his hair and pulling at it.

“F-Fuck, Steve….” You whine. Tears blur your vision, your muscles tense and your back arches in pleasure, “d-don’t stop, Steve, please don’t stop,” you breathe as you feel his tongue on your clit again and his fingers back in your pussy.

He moans against you, mumbling praises you cannot focus on.

King Steve is eating your pussy like his life is depending on it and he moans like a slut while doing so. Palming himself as he tastes you on his tongue and listens to you falling apart for him.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper as you hold his hair tighter, “please, I’m so close.”

“Yeah? You wanna cum for me? Do it, honey, do it.”

You let go, pushing away all the thoughts that are telling you how wrong this is, you cum hard and he moans and continues to lick you, his eyes roll back, he enjoys every fucking second of this.

“I haven’t even fucked you and your legs are already shaking.”

You open your eyes to look at him, your chest rises up and down heavily, sweat coating your forehead already, you swallow, pushing yourself up, you get on your hands and knees and crawl towards him, watching as he takes his shirt off. You grab him by his belt and pull him in.

You look up at him through hooded eyes, your hair is a mess, your skin is hot, you’re half naked, the only item left on you is your skimpy little skirt, he wants to fuck you while you are wearing it.

“Can I suck your cock?” You ask, sliding your hand up his body, “I love sucking cock.”

His eyes widen and he almost chokes on his spit, how can you look at him so innocently and speak such filthy words?

“I-I… huh?”

Nancy was different, sure she sucked him off but she didn’t really seem to be excited to do it, you though? You want it, for your own pleasure.

“You love sucking cocks?”

The look on his face almost makes you giggle, almost.

“Mhmm.”

“How many cocks have you sucked before?” He asks in curiosity.

You unbuckle his belt slowly, eying all the moles on his skin, his chest hair, his toned arms, the growing mustache. Steve is hot. Has he always been this hot?

“Take your pants off, Steve.”

“Answer the question first and then I’ll take them off.”

You roll your eyes.

“Before Jonathan? Just two.”

“Oh, who was it?”

“Take your pants off and I’ll tell you.”

He takes them off instantly, kicking his shoes off and throwing his pants somewhere.

“Well the first guy… you don’t know him, I met him when I went to visit a friend in Chicago,” you shrug.

He raises his brows, nodding, “the second guy?”

A smirk grows on your face, you lick your lips and place your hand on his dick, rubbing your palm over his boxers. He shudders, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he moans.

“Eddie Munson.”

His eyes widen at your admission, lips parting in surprise, “w-what? Eddie Munson, th-the f–”

“Yes, Eddie Munson!” You snap, not letting him finish the sentence. “I sucked him off in the bathroom after lunch break, Jason Carver was being mean to him and I felt bad for him.”

“So you cheered him up by sucking his dick?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he's jealous.

“Yeah, I mean who wouldn’t want to get his dick sucked by the head cheerleader?” You giggle, “he really liked it, came back for more.”

“And then what?”

You lean closer and kiss his hip bone and his stomach, trailing your lips up to his chest until you're kneeling on the bed in front of him, placing your hand on his chest and your lips on his neck, you kiss his neck the way he did to you earlier.

“He fucked me in his van, in the bathroom at school, in the janitor’s closet, behind the bleachers, he fucked me hard.”

Steve moans, he feels your cold piercing against his skin, his hand slide down to your waist.

“I bet you can’t fuck me the way he fucked me.” You mumble as you lean back down again, tugging at his boxers, you slide them down his legs and you gasp. His cock slaps against his stomach, pre cum leaking from his tip.

“Oh.” Is all you manage to say as you stare at his cock. Suddenly you look intimidated, your cheeks heat up and your eyes widen, “t-that’s not gonna fit.”

Steve chuckles darkly, gripping your jaw, he caresses your cheek, “oh, we’ll make it fit, honey.”

“You still wanna suck it?” He asks.

You nod, whining when he puts his hand on your head, guiding you towards him.

“It’s all yours.”

You wrap your much smaller hand around his dick, stroking him a few times before you begin to tease him with your tongue, swirling it around the tip, you close your eyes and enjoy the sound of his moans.

“O-Oh fuck,” he murmurs. Gripping your hair tightly, he looks down at you, watching as you take more of him, his cock disappearing in your mouth, inch by inch until it hits the back of your throat.

“Jesus fuck….”

“Mhmmm,” you moan around him, hollowing your cheeks as you begin to suck him off.

“Shit, stop…” He whines, tugging at your hair, “I’m not gonna last if you do that, I-I need to cum inside of you.”

You don’t listen to him, instead you continue to suck him off eagerly, moaning and whimpering in pleasure, you arch your back, cupping his balls–

“Fuck!” He whimpers, basically shoving you off of him, “you little slut, I said I’m not gonna last.”

You pout at him, “but I want to taste you too.”

He stares at you bewildered. What the fuck? He never thought you would be like this but god, does he love it.

“Later,” he says as he pushes you down and crawls on top of you, cupping your cheeks, his nose brushes against yours, “taste yourself instead,” he smirks before he kisses you again.

The kiss is nothing near soft, it’s rough and needy. Your teeth clash, your tongues meet and you both moan and groan desperately. He pushes your skirt up higher, wrapping your legs around his waist, he takes his aching cock in his hand, sliding it between your slick folds, causing you both to moan.

“Please, please… Fuck me, Steve. Make me feel something, please.”

You beg and you plead, you arch your back and you pull him closer. He looks at you, truly looks at you for the first time. You’re beautiful, pretty, cute. You’re cute, even as you lay there looking up at him like a needy whore. He furrows his brows, watching the way your lips part, your pretty eyes staring into his, your soft hand touches his shoulder.

What is he doing?

What has he been doing all this time?

“I got you, fuck, I got you.”

He concentrates on you, on the look on your face as he pushes inside of you for the very first time.

You whine and you bit your lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. You raise your head, looking down, you watch how his cock disappears in your pussy. Tears spring to your eyes as he stretches you open.

“Poor baby, can’t take my big cock huh?” He teases with a smirk on his face that quickly falls again when you clench around him, causing him to stop moving, “f-fuck.”

“Keep moving, Steve, please.”

He leans down, burying his face in your neck, he finally pushes all the way in. He says your name so filthily, it only makes you clench around him again.

He curses at you as he begins to move, pushing himself back up again, he places both his hands beside you.

“Pound my pussy, Steve, ruin me.”

He smirks at your words and pulls out, looking down to see his glistening cock pushing back into your tight hole again. It makes his stomach flutter.

“Such a good fucking pussy.”

“Mhmm, you’re big, biggest cock I've ever had.”

He only gives you a cocky grin in return. He knows he’s big.

He grabs your boobs roughly and finally, he begins to fuck you like you wanted him too.

“Ah– Steve, fuck… don’t stop!”

He begins to pound your pussy in the most disrespectful way possible, squelching noises and your whines echo through the room. He watches your fucked out expression, he watches the way your pretty face scrunches up in pleasure, the way your screw your eyes shut. All you can do is moan and whimper and all he can do is stare at you in awe.

He presses his hand on your lower stomach, pushing down on it, “you feel me, baby?” He asks, kissing your lips, “you feel my cock inside of you?”

You nod, whimpering pathetically.

You feel him, you feel him everywhere. His cock is splitting you open so perfectly, fucking you in a way only a man can.

“Byers is a fucking idiot, stupid boy doesn’t know how to handle a woman,” he grunts as he thrusts into your roughly, “he’s fucking missing out. Shit baby, you’ve got the most perfect little pussy, so fucking tight and wet for me.”

“S-Steve…”

“I’m gonna fucking cum inside of you, gonna breed that little pussy and make you mine, gonna fill you up with my cum, over and over again until you’re f-fucking pregnant, gonna show those fuckers what they missed.”

“P-Please,” you moan.

“You’d like that huh? You’d love to get pregnant by the guy you hate?”

“Mhmm,” you whine, you reach for his hands, dragging them up to your neck, “choke me, daddy.”

His eyes widen and he fucking whimpers, his dick is throbbing inside of you and you know he is close.

“God, you’re fucking filthy,” he grunts, wrapping his hands around your throat, “call me that again.”

“Daddy.”

He fucks you harder, rougher, faster and deeper. He wants you, he needs you. He is desperate for you.

You put your hands around his wrists, looking up at him through the tears, “harder.”

He gives you what you want, keeping his eyes locked with yours. You move your hips, meeting his thrusts. Tears stream down your face and you can no longer hold the sobs in.

“Cum inside of me, Steve.”

Your walls flutter around him and his hold on you tightens, “y-you want me to cum inside of you–”

“Please, I need it!”

His hips stutter and he can no longer hold back, he slams his lips against yours, moving one hand down, his fingers graze your sensitive nipples for a moment, he touches your stomach, your hips and then his fingertips find your clit, rubbing fast circles on it. He listens to the way your moans grow high pitched as you cum around him.

“I’m cumming, f-fuck,” he murmurs against your lips as he spills inside of you, coating your walls with his seed.

You both whimper in pleasure. He continues to thrust in and out of you slowly, for a moment and then he slumps against you, letting go of your throat and letting his face fall against your chest, his throbbing cock still inside of you.

You both need a moment to calm down from this.

Surprisingly, Steve doesn’t push off of you and pretend like nothing happened. He just continues to lay there, on your chest, tracing your skin with his rough hands.

And you, you play with his hair, not a single thought of your ex boyfriend or your best friend. All you think about is Steve. How good he made you feel, how pretty he looked when he ate your pussy, how he kissed you, how he smells.

“I think you almost fucked the hate I have for you out of me.”

He snorts at you, “wow, very romantic.”

“Oh we’re being romantic now?”

He looks up at you, “I mean, I’m still inside of you and you are playing with my hair so yeah.”

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes but are unable to fight the smile off your face.

He grins, “no one ever called me daddy.”

“Someone else will call you daddy in 9 months if you don’t get me the morning after pill.”

You almost expect him to grow pale but instead he laughs nervously.

“Babies can’t talk, honey.”

“Huh?”

“You said in 9 months, are you telling me newborns can speak now?”

“I was joking!” You mumble.

“Mhmm, sure you were,” he chuckles.

For a moment, the room is filled with silence. All you hear is the sound of the music from the party, the laughter and the loud voices. The smell of sex lingers in the room, the smell of him lingers on you.

“You know what? I think we should’ve done that a long time ago,” Steve admits, “in fact I think we should do it again.”

You smirk at him, “to get back at them or because you just wanna be called daddy again?”

For a moment, his face grows serious and he finds himself staring at you longingly, “I just wanna do it again, not to get back at them, fuck them.”

“Let’s do it then,” you whisper, “but take me home first.”

“Yes ma’am.”

A week ago, you would’ve laughed if someone told you that this would happen. That you would break up with your cheating boyfriend, lose a best friend you had known since childhood and fuck the man you hated half of your life.

Yet here you are, letting Steve Harrington help you get dressed, letting him steal kisses, letting him slap your ass on the way out.

You walked into his room hating him and you walked out of here, well, hating him a little less.

You both got betrayed by people you loved, deeply. You lost them but at least you had found each other.

In a perfect world you would be together.

Maybe this can be a perfect world after all.

tagging some faves @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @mysticmunson @aftermidnightwriting

#steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington imagine #stranger things smut #stranger things angst #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine

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fleurriee · 1 year

Text

— the one ; neteyam sully

pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!reader

synopsis ; neteyam was beginning to court you, much to your elation. each time he showed you how much you meant to him, you only fell more in love with him.

word count ; 10.3k (we don’t talk about it)

themes ; fluff, soon-to-be mates

warnings ; tooth-rotting fluff, vv brief mentions of worrying over someone’s well-being, uses of y/n.

author’s note ; i can’t tell if this got slightly worse as it neared the end but we’re just gonna leave it bc i do like it. i mean, who doesn’t like the idea of neteyam courting them??? also, this is my longest fic yet & it wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near this long but i just got carried away bc i love neteyam so much. sue me.

main masterlist request a fic!

For a short while now, yourself and Neteyam were in the courting process of your relationship.

It wasn’t too long ago when the male Na’vi asked your permission to do so, along with your parents’, and the thought always caused butterflies to roam in your stomach, no matter how much time passed in between. Neteyam was the perfect Na’vi - a mighty warrior, a caring gentleman, someone who knew how to properly lead, something that would one day aid him when he took over as Olo’eyktan.

So, in short, you simply couldn’t believe your luck when he asked you.

You could argue that you saw it coming with the way he always sought you out in a crowd, the gentle smiles he sent in your direction, but you’d be lying to yourself. Having Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan choose you to be his mate was something you never would have imagined possible in your wildest dreams. Of course, it was something you did imagine - you were pretty sure every other Na’vi your age did, too - but to have it play out in front of your very eyes was a whole different experience.

His family were welcoming, too, letting you safe in their warm embrace and treating you like one of their own - because you would be, someday soon. Neteyam’s family and your own got on well which was a huge relief to the both of you, making his progress just slightly easier.

His aforementioned progress in courting you was something that caused a blush to rise on your cheeks, filling you to the brim with elation. Each time you saw him, you were sure you were close to combusting; each time he spoke, you were sure your heart was close to melting. Everything about Neteyam was godly, otherworldly... how in Ewya had you managed to get him to choose you as a mate?

You were forced out of your jumbled, overthinking thoughts when Tuk let out a loud gasp. The young girl was situated in front of you, comfortably placed on top of your crossed legs, twiddling away at the carved wooden toys her eldest brother had gifted her a while ago. She had come to you earlier, asking you to braid her hair with some of the beads she had recently collected with her sister, Kiri. Of course, you couldn’t say no to her - you were sure Tuk could ask anything of you, no matter the circumstance, and you’d still say yes. It was those big eyes looking up at you, all pure and innocent of the dangers surrounding them with the war brewing nearby. You’d do anything to shield her away from that.

When Tuk gasped, for a split second, you thought you’d hurt her. Your eyes were frantic as you looked over her figure, but then another sound pierced through the atmosphere - a horn. Following Tuk’s line of sight, that’s when you spotted the group of ikran’s beginning to descend back into camp, chants from the warriors filling the air with their victory.

That meant Neteyam was back, too.

Lightly brushing back Tuk’s hair, the braids practically finished, you patted her back to ensure her she was okay to run over to her returning family. She doesn’t even pay you any mind and you laugh at her reaction, watching as she screams out in exclamation, her feet rushing over to where you watch her parents descend.

Standing up from the ground, you jump down from where you were seated, landing softly and jogging over, following after Tuk. The idea of seeing Neteyam again - even though it hadn’t been that long since you last saw one another - had you full to the brim with excitement. He was your future mate - it was practically your job to feel like this at the prospect of seeing him, even if you had only been away for a short period of time.

But, when your eyes finally land on who you were looking for, the smile drops from your face and replaces itself with worried features. Just a couple of steps away, you watch as Jake stands in front of his two sons, his back clearly showing off his agitation. You don’t hear what they’re saying, but you can tell it’s nothing good - both Neteyam and Lo’ak have their heads hung low, ashamed at the obvious lecture they were receiving from their father.

At the sight, you can’t help the way your heart aches for the two boys. Since Neteyam had started to court you, you had spent a lot of time with his family, meaning you got to know each of them pretty well, including Lo’ak. You got on with him great, despite your stark differences in personality, but you could tell everything he did was just to live up to the shadow of both his father and older brother. He just wanted to be like them.

And, Neteyam - he was always the protector, whether it was for his parents, his siblings, for you. If Lo’ak had done something reckless and dangerous, you knew Neteyam wouldn’t have been too far behind him, watching his every move and ensuring his younger brother’s safety. It was both a strength and a weakness of his.

Your eyes scrape over your future mate, checking every inch of his body until you spot a cut at his side that he’s trying to hide from everyone else’s view. It’s clear no one else has spotted it, or else you were sure they would’ve sent him straight to a healer to get it treated. Thankfully, the wound didn’t look too bad, but you could tell it was hurting him - from the signs of him fidgeting from foot to foot, keeping his hand pressed firmly against his side in a weak attempt to dull the pain, his eyes frantically searching about the place to find an opening of escape.

You know him too well.

That’s when your eyes meet, and if it wasn’t for the worry currently eating away at your very being, it would’ve felt as though the whole of Pandora stopped around you, just the two of you in a world of your own. That’s how it always felt around Neteyam, and knowing you had more of this to look forward to for the rest of your lives was enchanting.

In a bid to reassure your future mate, you send him over a soft smile, one full of care and admittance. A small nod of your head accompanied it, too, ensuring him that you would be there for him when he was finished with his father. You understand the weight bearing down upon his shoulders after the several times he would open himself up to you, and you’d be damned if you let him drown. No matter the circumstance, no matter the cost, you’d make it your life’s mission to pull him out when he started to struggle.

A tense smile in return is your only response, another subtle nod of his head with it, too, but you can see the way his body moves stiffly, as if afraid of more reprimand, as if hurting. His eyes held all the love and adoration he had for you like they always did, and seeing such a sight made you feel a little calmer about the situation.

Neither yourself nor Neteyam were conspicuous in your looks towards one another, it seemed, for Jake immediately noticed the way his eldest son’s attention was snagged somewhere else. He watched as Neteyam’s ears twitched a little, tail perking up from its once ashamed downturn, a smidge of light coming back to his eyes. It was obvious what the cause of such a demeanour was, and when he turned his head to look behind himself and found you, standing your weight from one foot to the another, fingers mindlessly playing together in a bid to calm your nerves and tail swishing in anticipation, he was proved correct.

He sighed deeply, turning back around and talking to Neteyam, words being shared that you couldn’t hear, but as he gestured over to you, you stood straighter as you realised he was dismissing his son. The young Na’vi in question doesn’t move quickly, something you can decipher from his wounded side he continued to clutch away from any possible prying eyes, but he does move eagerly, wanting to get over to you as soon as he can.

Not even ten steps between the two of you, and your feet are moving of their own accord, hurrying closer to his figure. You reach your arms out to him, hands grasping against his arms with care to help steer him in the direction of a healing tent. Your eyes wonder seamlessly back down to his wound, looking over every inch of it to ensure it’s not entirely life-threatening. In conclusion that it isn’t, a small breath of relief escapes your lips, shaking your head - still, it looks painful.

Looking back up at him, your eyes filter from one of his to the other in a bid to garner his full attention whilst the two of you continue walking. “Are you okay?” you question, your voice coming out breathy.

“It is fine.” His words are short and sharp, and if it wasn’t for the piercing wound aching at his side, you’d assume he was mad at you. But, that obviously wasn’t the case - Neteyam rarely got angry, and if he did, he swore it’d never be at you.

You scoff before you can decipher your own response, eyes trailing back down. “It doesn’t look fine.” When he doesn’t say anything in return, you look back up at him, finding his gaze already trained on you, a small, graceful smile painting at his lips. It makes your heart flutter, knowing that such a rare beauty is entirely for you. Trying to bite back the reciprocating smile desperate to show itself, you shake your head at your future mate and his antics, wanting to stay annoyed at him for once again throwing himself in harm’s way for the sake of others. But, when he looks at you like that, you find it difficult to do anything.

The healing tent you had intended to take him into finally appeared in front of you, sounds of chatter and winces coming through to your ears from inside. You weren’t a fan of such places due to the pain and misery it brought the people of your clan, but as the mate of the future Olo’eyktan, you knew you’d eventually have to suck it up and put on a brave face for those around you. You’d be spending more time in there than you’d like to admit.

Bringing your arm up and leaving the other one clasped tightly around Neteyam’s bicep, you go move the tent flap away, but another beats you to it. Despite the obvious pain he’s in, Neteyam reaches out, opening the entrance up for you and gestures you in. You stop in your tracks, looking over at him pointedly, but he doesn’t acknowledge the way your eyes reprimand him - even when in agony, he’s still adamant to be a good future mate in courtship.

You sigh, almost a little agitated that he still felt the need to prove himself to you, even when your heart beats rapidly in your chest at such a domestic gesture, the determination of Neteyam Sully peaking through his pained actions. As you step inside, you feel him grab a hold of your hand from behind you, his warm and callous skin juxtaposing against one another, but have you shivering in affection all the same. He allows you to guide him through the tent, weaving around those moving hurriedly to others sitting and waiting for their treatment, before you finally find a somewhat-secluded area towards the back.

With his hand still firmly in your grip, you turn to him, moving your other one around his bicep again and begin helping the both of you steadily to the ground, each of you guiding the other with delicacy. You didn’t want Neteyam to be in more pain than he already was, and Neteyam always treated you like you were fragile glass - something that didn’t bother you, although you have had others say it would bother them, but you paid no mind to them.

Once the two of you were as comfortable as you could be in a tent crowded with other injured people, sat cross-legged and facing one another, you gently pried his hand that had continued to cover the wound in his side. You were slow with your movements, sending him a look of reassurance that you would be tender. He winced slightly when the cool breeze smacked so suddenly against the now-rough skin, his head hanging low and shaking from side to side to tell himself that the pain was nothing. Neteyam never did like to come across as weak - especially in front of you.

You can’t help the way your eyes narrow up at him, a frown on your lips. “I wish you were more careful...” your voice is barely a whisper, not wanting anyone else to hear in on your conversation. With thoughtful touches, you begin to clean away at the wound, wanting to make sure the blood is washed away and nothing made its way in that could make it worse.

“I am always careful.” There’s another wince, another strain when he speaks, the sensation of your fingers against his skin both sending delightful shivers down his spine and causing his tail to stand on end from the pain.

Stopping in your movement, you sit up in front of him, watching as he slowly lifts his head once he realises you’ve paused. “This,” you say, pointing directly to his wound, “says otherwise.”

Neteyam doesn’t say anything as you immediately go back to your previous work of cleaning him, knowing that whatever he says will only be argued with a firm answer you no doubt have ready to fire at him. He understands you, though, because if the situation was switched and you were in his position, he knows his head wouldn’t be in the right frame of mind, either. Neteyam would be imagining different scenarios where you’d ended up worse, more injured, or even... If he didn’t like to think about it, he couldn’t imagine the feeling of going through it, and you did, every time he went out with the war party. You didn’t know what condition he was going to be coming back to you in... you didn’t know if he was going to be coming back.

Neteyam understood.

So, rather than biting back, the Na’vi instead smiled down at your working figure, pure love shining bright in his eyes as he watched your concentration prevail through your hurried movements, your gentle fingers, your narrowed eyes. Everything about you was so beautiful to Neteyam, even when you were surrounded in a crowded room by others who didn’t deserve to witness such a sight. He couldn’t believe his luck of getting to call you his own.

While you work, moving one of your hands back in the direction of his wound, you feel it get snatched away. You look up at Neteyam, about to tell him off for not letting you work, when you watch him place a firm, tender kiss against your knuckles, his eyes never once leaving your own.

You can feel yourself blush profusely at his actions, tilting your head to the side subconsciously as he only smirks at your reaction - he always knew the best ways to get you right in the palm of his hands. Instead of previously wanting to reprimand him, your words are but a murmur when you speak, eyes continuously flickering from his eyes to somewhere behind him in order to distract yourself. “I’m trying to concentrate, ‘teyam.”

His heart is full, ready to burst, when he hears your nickname for him, something he loves from only a select few people, with you being right at the top. Keeping your hand in his own, his thumb beginning to run smoothly where he kissed you against your knuckles, he chuckles at your attempt to stay focused. “I know,” he nods lightly, eyes bright and fangs pointed in bliss. “That’s why I kissed you - you look adorable when you concentrate.”

As soon as the words left his lips, your head sharply snapped back over to him, irises blown wide, ears high upon your head and tail curling in on itself from the compliment. No matter how many times he’d talk to you in such a way, or did certain things that made you feel all mushy inside, it’d always gain the same reaction from you. And, he loved it.

You plaster on a playfully annoyed expression, trying to fight the smile dancing at your lips. Chuckling, you shake your head. “Do you want me to help you, or not?”

He laughs, breathless, tongue flicking out and running along his fangs as his eyes make a point of looking over every inch of your figure. It makes you cower in on yourself, and this time, you allow your lips to curve at the edges. Neteyam doesn’t say anything in return, just shrugs mindlessly like he hadn’t been internally torturing you beforehand, letting you get back on with healing your future mate.

Not once does he move his gaze away from such a beautiful sight.

Your hands moved in a hurried motion, eagerness and anticipation beginning to eat away at you. You moved from one side of your tent to the other, the empty space allowing you to rush around without having to worry about bumping into or getting on your parent’s nerves. The both of them would be out all day - your mother spending the day with the younger Na’vi in your clan, and your father helping out with training the soon-to-be warriors.

With the day ahead seeming so empty, you had decided to take it upon yourself to go out into the vast forests of Pandora and collect some fruit for your family. Foraging was something you always enjoyed, ever since your mother took you out for the first time. There was something about just carelessly exploring the lush greenery whilst stumbling upon something new - it brought you happiness and peacefulness.

Of course, you couldn’t go out there unprotected, making sure to stop by your mat where you kept your bow and arrows and tying them around yourself. Going out into the forest alone wasn’t uncommon, but it was something the clan didn’t like to do often. However, you did - just for the tranquillity of being alone for a little while when you were constantly surrounded by the hustle and bustle of so many people at once. You knew there was always going to be a chance of you running into something dangerous whilst you were out there, so, to calm the nerves of your friends and family after finding out about your little lonesome adventures, you assured them you’d always take a weapon with you.

Sighing, you stood tall, looking around your tent then to your body, making sure you were definitely prepared before setting off for the day. You looped your mother’s empty basket through one arm, hoping to be full to the brim with an array of fruits by the time you returned in a few hours, your bow was tucked over your neck and hanging against your shoulders, and your arrows were placed firmly upon your back, ready for their use. You just hoped you wouldn’t have to resort to using them.

With a nod of your head, you turn around, beginning to walk out the entrance of your tent. You kept your eyes trained to the floor, hanging your head low so as not to bump it against anything and have an embarrassing story to talk about later on, when you ended up bumping your entire body into something anyway.

You gasped in surprise at the sudden sensation, the solid material in front of you hitting against you fairly harshly. Stumbling on your feet, you were sure you would’ve fallen down like a sack, but your saving grace came in the form of two hands, gentle yet rough in texture, catching onto your upper arms, wrapping their fingers against your biceps.

Looking up, you spotted Neteyam. The morning sun hit against his back, painting him in an ethereal glow, and you swore you had never seen anything so glorious in all your life on Pandora. He had a cheeky smile on his lips, eyes roving over your features, his hands still holding tightly onto you - he knew you were steady on your feet now, but he simply didn’t want to let you go.

When you made eye contact with Neteyam, you were so entranced, you couldn’t look away. The way his eyes caught against the light began to suck you in until you were his entirely, no one and nothing else mattered in the world because Neteyam was right here, looking at you. The close proximity between the two of you made the heat rise against your cheeks, painting you in a darker blue, but your eyes never strayed from his. How could you, when he looked like this? You could feel his breath fan against your face, the feeling sending shivers to your skin.

“Hi,” he said, voice low and teasing, that stupid smile never once leaving his lips as he looked down at you like you were some sort of prey and he the predator.

“Hi,” you whispered, voice sultry and soft, struggling to find the correct words to say to him due to your stuttering heart and how close you were, feeling every slight move he made against your own body. “What are you doing here?” You were happy to see him, but confused by his presence - you knew he had training with his father early that morning (part of the reason why you decided to go out), and if he was here with you now, you were sure he was going to end up being late, something Neteyam did once in a blue moon.

He shrugged carelessly, like he didn’t have a care in the world. “I wanted to say good morning.”

You look up at him expectantly, waiting, but when he only continued to look at you adoringly, you narrow your eyes in confusion. “Are you going to say it...?” Your words are still a whisper, but this time, there’s a teasing lilt to them as you watch his smile grow wider when he realises his mistake.

Neteyam began to laugh at your sudden cheekiness, something you didn’t do often but he absolutely cherished, silently wishing to himself that you did it more. Maybe he’d just have to do things like this a little more. “Good morning, yawne (beloved).” As he spoke, he leant down towards you, giving your cheek a feather-light kiss, you had to run the sensation over in your mind again. When he pulled back, you couldn’t hold his eye contact, too flustered to look up at him, knowing that if you did, your cheeks would only continue to darken from their original colour. Neteyam found it endearing, smile so bright his fangs were pointing out, before eventually spotting your attire. “Going hunting?”

“Foraging,” you corrected him, lifting the basket higher on your arms to accentuate your point. Your heart finally finds the confidence to look up into his intense gaze, swelling with both care and devotion. “I need to get some more fruits.”

At your admittance, Neteyam’s entire demeanour lights up at an opportunity beginning to present itself right in front of his very eyes - his ears stand high upon his head, eyes shining and tail elevated, anticipation peeking through his system. “I can get them for you if you want.”

You swoon at his eagerness to help you, the domestic part of Neteyam showing itself off to you. If it were any other time, you would’ve gladly took him up on the offer, loving the idea of spending more time with him despite truly believing your heart would explode if he continued to look at you like you were Ewya herself. But, you knew Neteyam was important to your clan, even before he was to become Olo’eyktan - you couldn’t keep him from his duties, from his purpose.

(Neteyam would strongly argue that you were his purpose.)

“‘Teyam,” you start gently, hate having to turn him down when his features slowly start to fall. A sympathetic smile lingers against your lips, head tilted to the side but your eyes spoke more than your words could convey. “You have training with your father...” you find your eyes trailing your surroundings at your reminder, instantly spotting Jake in the near distance behind your future mate. He stands tall, proud, but you can tell he’s only moments away from calling his son out as he eyes him up, impatient. “...who is right over there and definitely does not want you to be late.”

In an instant, Neteyam’s head shoots around to follow your gaze, a grumble slipping past his parted lips when he spots his father. Like a child, he hangs his head low in defeat, allowing it to fall against your shoulder when he turns back around. He lets his weight bear down on you teasingly, chuckling through his chest at your struggled attempts to stay steady on your feet.

You pat his chest in mock sympathy, giggling to yourself as he only continues to be his dramatic self, head nestling closer into the space between your shoulder and neck. But, when he begins to press kisses against your skin, you tense up, feeling your spine straighten out and eyes look around for anyone watching.

His father continues to glower at his eldest son, hands on his hips and shaking his head, obviously disgruntled. “Neteyam,” you warn, patting his chest again, a little harsher this time, more so in warning. Neteyam doesn’t seem to care, however, only continuing on his journey as he travels his lips from your shoulder to the crevasse of your neck. “’Teyam, your father-”

“Neteyam!” Jake’s voice is loud and clear, piercing through the clan until it makes its way to the two of you. In an instant, Neteyam jumps up and detaches himself from your shoulder. You look over his broad shoulder, seeing his father beginning to storm his way over. A harsh, fast-paced kiss is placed roughly against the side of your face, before you watch Neteyam run sheepishly over to his father, not wanting him to make a big scene. When your future mate arrives at his father’s side, the older Na’vi grabs his son against the back of the neck, forcefully pulling him further away from you before the guides of Ewya could will him back to you.

You can’t help but chuckle at their antics - the more time you spent with the Sully family, the more excited you felt at the prospect of finally being a part of them. Of course, they’d argue that you were already an honorary Sully, just from being betrothed to one of them, but you knew it’d be entirely different when you finally mated with Neteyam.

Shaking your head, you noticed a few stares sent your way from the scene Neteyam had previously created before leaving you to deal with it. The only response you could give them without wanting the ground to swallow you whole was a sheepish smile, before securing your basket tight against your chest and running off into the forest.

The rest of the day went by quicker than you had imagined - you were simply so emerged in the beauty of the forest around you that time seemed infinite, like it was laying in the palm of your hands for you to do whatever you pleased with it. And, you did - you spent majority of your time marvelling at the pure life around you, the way everything seemed to pulse like it had its own heartbeat, and you liked to imagine that it did. After all, this was all apart of Ewya, too.

You had managed to collect a good amount of fruits, filling your basket almost to the top with a variety of tastes and colours to show off to your parents. Walking back into the clan, your chest swelled with pride at the few gratifying looks you were receiving from your collection, but you were also feeling proud of yourself for not having to use your weapon, either. Whether it was just your good intuition, or Ewya herself guiding you in a direction to ensure your safety, you steered clear of any potential threats that could’ve been lurking around the corner, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. Either way, you were grateful you never ran into anything.

Arguably, you were a good hunter, someone who could hold their own if they needed to, but you weren’t entirely confident in your skills enough to fight off something bigger than you if its intentions were to kill you. You’d never had to fight against such a creature, thanks to adventuring out with others that knew what they were doing, or going to specific places you knew would be okay for you. Plus, there was something about killing the creatures of Pandora that didn’t sit right with you - after all, they were also children of Ewya. Of course, you understood the clan had to eat in order to survive, and if you were being attacked, no Na’vi would judge another if they needed to defend themselves or their family. That’s why you were always the one to volunteer to collect the fruits out of your family, enjoying that particular experience more. It also helped that you received offer’s from Neteyam’s family - and Neteyam, especially - to share the meat they had hunted. You could turn down the meats his family offered you, arguing that it was for them, but you couldn’t disagree with Neteyam - what’s mine is yours.

Nodding to another Na’vi who had done the same to you in a small gesture of congratulations, your cheeks hurting from the prideful smile against your lips, you hadn’t spotted the figure rushing to jog over to your moving figure until they stop at your side. You already know it’s Neteyam - not from the sight of him, but from the presence of him. His scent infiltrates your scenes immediately and his aura oozes itself around you, enshrouding you in a protective layer.

How your knees haven’t buckled out from swooning will always be beyond you.

No words are able to leave your mouth before Neteyam takes the basket from your hands, relieving your lower back from the pressure it was previously feeling with the weight of the fruits. He holds it firmly in his grasp, matching your pace as he walks beside you, taking note of the amount you collected before his gaze lands on you. “How was it?”

You don’t bother arguing against his wishes of holding the basket for you, knowing it would only be a losing battle if you tried. Instead, you allowed your heart to flutter wildly in your chest as it begged for release, wanting to cover Neteyam in all the love it had to offer. Your head tilts in affection as your features coo. “It was good - I managed to get quite a bit.”

He hums in acknowledgement, eyes hurriedly scanning over your figure from top to bottom. His gaze makes you feel warm, but you know he’s checking you over for any potential injuries. “You didn’t run into any trouble?”

“Nope,” you state proudly, beaming like a child would with a new accomplishment. “I’m too good at sneaking.”

A laugh tumbles from his stomach at your answer, embellishing in the way you proudly stand and tell him of your day’s achievements. This is what he’s always wanted - the two of you, talking about your day and everything in between, before finally coming back together to rest for the night.

All he’s ever wanted was you.

With only one of his hands now holding onto your full basket, he brings his other up to grab hold of your arm, stopping you in your tracks. When you turn to face him, your smile slowly begins to fall from your lips at the seriousness in his gaze. Only when he cups your face in his larger palm do you soften, features lighting up once more. “You did well, my muntxa (mate).”

The nickname makes you bite your lips to stop you giving away your true feelings, but you know Neteyam, and you know he knows you inside and out, like you were his other half - because you were. Snuggling your face further into his palm, you stand higher on your toes, wanting to bring him closer despite the rapid beating of your heart. “Not yet...” you remind him.

He hums in acknowledgement, but doesn’t say anything more. Rather, he presses a light kiss against your forehead, his lips lingering there for a while longer, like he didn’t want to part from you in such an intimate way. As he stays there, his lips ghosting over your skin, he whispers an almost-inaudible soon. The implication makes you shudder in delight, feeling him separate away from you, now intertwining his hand in your own and gesturing his head for you to follow him.

Soon.

Tonight was a normal night within the clan, although it somehow seemed more alive.

Every night, the people of the Omatikaya would come together to celebrate the day’s achievements, even if nothing too celebratory had happened. It brought a semblance of togetherness that you couldn’t get anywhere else - one you wouldn’t trade for the world.

You could hear the hustle and bustle of many Na’vi even from the tent furthest away from the main area, your body filling with brimming excitement already at the prospect of everyone being there. You weren’t a huge fan of crowds, but growing older had taught you to appreciate such a feeling - these people were your family, after all, and with such an impending war knocking upon your doorstep too often than you were comfortable with, you learned to enjoy what you have already, before it was too late.

Training with the Tsahik had increased tenfold in the last couple of months - you were working from sunrise until sunset alongside Mo’at and Kiri, aiding them in their tasks and ensuring you were close to knowing everything off by heart. Eventually, you would be taking over, with Neteyam at your side as Olo’eyktan. It wasn’t long until the two of you would finally be mated before Ewya, and whilst it would still be a while until you stepped forward as leaders, there would always be more preparing to do. As a mated pair, the clan would slowly start looking to the two of you.

With such a pressure lingering upon your shoulders, you began to make your way through the main crowd, leaving behind your duties in their wake and allowing yourself a moment to breathe. There were Na’vi everywhere, no matter what direction your gaze trailed to; smiles adorning each face, tails high in elation and chatter loud in excitement. There was a large woven table to the side that held the hunting party’s food they had caught during that morning’s hunt, piles high of fruits and meats that had your stomach growling in anticipation. You hadn’t had time to eat much when training, your mind too focused on remembering every little detail shown before you.

But, you couldn’t help your own smile beginning to dawn upon your lips as you attempted to make your way past people at the sight of their happiness. For a moment, it almost felt like there wasn’t a raging war so close to home, ready to kill you all just to say they had won.

You shook your head at such a thought, willing it away from your head and forcing yourself to enjoy the moment before you. There were several people you accidentally bumped into on the way past, your mind foggy as it searched for someone, but no one was too bothered, too caught up in the blissful atmosphere lingering within the air.

Eyes trailing over every figure you came across, you struggled to spot a single Sully. You stepped higher onto the ends of your toes, head poking out over the tops of other’s heads in an attempt to locate them, but you kept coming up short. It was obvious they would be here, of course - they were the Sully family, the leaders of your clan, and if they didn’t make an appearance at just a regular gathering such at this one, you knew they’d be more panic around you.

Thankfully, before you could be swallowed by the crowd and lost to the world around you, a hand clasped itself securely within your own, fingers intertwining together. The feeling of his hand against yours caused your brain waves to kilter off edge, the rough but warm sensation of his palm meeting your own so similar to home.

When you look up at him, Neteyam’s happiness is evident upon his features, grin broad and so unbelievably handsome-looking. Before you can get too caught up in him, him, him, he nods his head in the direction behind him, where you guess his family had set themselves up. He doesn’t take his hand away from your own, keeping a strong grip against you to ensure he doesn’t lose you, leading you through the crowd until you come up to his family.

They’re all already seated comfortably together, Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk already eating away to their heart’s desires whilst Jake prepares the food for himself and his mate. Upon seeing your breathless figure, they greet you with smiles and nods in your direction, never surprised to see you with Neteyam anymore as they used to be. The bond between the two of you was only growing stronger as the days tilted by, the time dwindling down before you were mated and you truly became a Sully. His family were your family.

Neteyam’s arm is almost forcefully ripped away from your own when a much smaller body crashes into you. Tuk, in all her pure and giddy glory, has her arms wrapped strongly around the tops of your legs, her height not allowing her to go any higher. Her chin rests against your legs, looking up at you with her deer-like eyes and the biggest smile you have ever seen. The sight has you melting.

“Hi, Tuk,” you greet her softly, bringing your hand up to gently caress the top of her head. She giggles at the sensation, lightly hopping up and down on her feet. Whilst you were definitely close with Neteyam’s family - more so Kiri, than anyone else, due to the amount of time you spend together - Tuk would always be your favourite. You looked to her like she was your little sister, and you hoped that one day she’d look at you like her older one. The idea of having someone as adorable as Tuk look up to you, feeling comfortable enough to come to you should she ever need to, was heart-warming.

“Tuk!” Neytiri called, her tone harsh but understanding as she beckoned her youngest child back over to her, watching her bound away from you and back into her mother’s arms.

You laugh quietly to yourself at the sight, finally making your way to the free seat next to Neteyam. When your comfortable enough, you go to reach over for the contents already splayed out before you, but a soft slap against the back of your hand has you recoiling away. Next to you, Neteyam reaches for everything you’d need, already beginning to do it for you.

He doesn’t look at you, although you know he can feel your gaze zoning in on his every movement - he’s too busy concentrating on making sure everything’s perfect for you, even if you are going to devour it just moments after receiving it. Your heart flutters like a swarming butterfly and you’re positive your cheeks are starting to redden as they blush. You don’t say anything to him, knowing it’s an argument you won’t be able to win - instead, you continue to watch with hearts evident within your eyes, a faint, loving smile present on your lips.

It’s then you remember you’re not completely alone, too caught up in Neteyam. When you look up at the family surrounding you, you instantly spot his parents’ gazes already trained on the two of you - Neytiri’s expression is fond, whilst Jake’s is most definitely teasing.

Whether he can begin to sense your slight unease at being caught, you’re not sure, but Jake decides to speak up, hands moving subconsciously as he now starts to prepare his own food after giving the finished one to his mate. “So, y/n,” he starts, “how is Tsahik training going?”

You briefly look back over to Neteyam next to you, biting back a smile as you allow him to continue his work - his eyes are narrowed in on making everything flawless, making sure it’s exactly how you’d like it. Turning back to Jake, you offer him a nod, breathing out. “It is good - there are a few things I’m still struggling with, but the Tsahik believes I just need to continue with my training before I am able to do it with my eyes closed.”

Shrugging at the end of your admittance, you let out a sheepish laugh, almost a little embarrassed. Tsahik training is hard - no one ever said it was going to be easy, especially when you would be guiding the clan spiritually through Ewya, helping them heal and celebrate important ceremonies. But, you know you don’t have anything to be embarrassed by for several reasons - Neytiri understands from her brief time of training alongside her mother before mating with Jake, but this is also Neteyam’s family, your family, who have never once stopped to judge you for a single thing. In fact, you’re sure they’ve only ever supported you through the things you do, because now you’re as much they’re daughter as Kiri and Tuk.

“You will be an amazing Tsahik, y/n.” Neytiri speaks up, clearly noticing your hidden embarrassment and wanting to ease your worries. Tuk is still in her lap, happily chomping away at her food as her mother braids her hair. Her smile is doting, motherly. “The clan already loves you.”

The compliment from your mother-in-law only causes more embarrassment to flood through you, feeling yourself slowly begin to curl in on yourself. The love you were receiving not only from the family, but also from the rest of the clan, helped ease your tensions, but you never really took to taking such praise well. You appreciated it like any other Na’vi did, but sometimes you struggled to show a natural reaction, becoming slightly uncomfortable. That was something you would have to work on - the Tsahik couldn’t be embarrassed.

Your tail had previously nestled itself against your side when Neytiri complimented you, shying away from the attention, but it began to perk up suddenly when Neteyam lay a kind hand against your shoulder. His thumb was absentmindedly rubbing soothing circles against your skin - you didn’t know whether it was in his natural persona to do so, subconscious taking over, or whether he took notice of your change in demeanour, but either way, it calmed you.

Looking at his other hand, you can see your prepared food, wrapped neatly together and gesturing for you to take it. With a grateful smile sent his way, you do so, speaking softly. “Thank you, ‘teyam.”

His grin is wide as he looks down at you. “You do not need to thank me, narlor (beautiful).” Heat passes over your cheeks when he calls you beautiful, the sincerity behind his eyes showing you how much he means it. You try your best to focus on your food when his attention doesn’t waver away from you, the warmth of his gaze piercing into your skin and making your entire being feel all tingly. Despite taking note of your attempt to shutter yourself away from him, taking a bite of the food and savouring every mouth-watering flavour it has to offer you, Neteyam is relentless - the same hand that was formerly rubbing against the top of your shoulder now snakes around the back of your neck, bringing you further into his side and pressing a tender kiss against the side of your temple. His lips linger hotly against your skin when he pulls away. “I would hunt down the most ravishing creatures and prepare the most delicious meals just for you, muntxate (wife).”

For a moment, you know nothing else but him - the way his eyes bore into yours completely, unseeing of anything else going on around you; the way his breaths steady with each one, like you bring a sense of calmness to his very being; the way his hand doesn’t move from its place against you, like doing so would cause him extreme pain. You’re sure you can feel your heart soar to the sky when he calls you his muntxate (wife), never wanting to hear him call you anything else ever again. You’ve been down the road before - Neteyam has been calling you his mate boldly as of late - but hearing him call you his wife, such domesticity has you feeling completely brand new, like you could conquer the world, face the most dangerous beast and win, just to come home and see him smiling at you like you hung the stars in the night sky.

You’re scared it’s obvious that your tears are beginning to show against the line of your eyes, a nervous but oh-so adoring chuckle escaping your parted lips. Neteyam brings you foreheads together, the heat of his skin sending waves of the temperature into your own, his hand still clasped firmly against the back of your neck, and you notice his eyes never once falter from their stare into your own. There’s so much love, so much devotion and worship in his gaze, you can’t believe for just one brief moment in your past, you had thought Neteyam wouldn’t want you to call his own. It’s clear to you now that he’s only ever saw you.

So suddenly you’re brought out of your reverie when you hear a gagging sound coming from the direction of your other side. Reluctantly pulling away from Neteyam, you spot Lo’ak pretending to throw up the contents of his meal, no doubt having seen the intimate moment between his older brother and yourself. In any other instance, the embarrassment would be clawing away at you - and, you won’t deny the little semblance of it still making its way to the forefront - but the endearment you held for Neteyam in that moment, when you truly saw how much you meant to one another, overrides anything else. You laugh at your younger brother figure, looking up at Neteyam with nothing but comfort and passion in your eyes, watching as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head at such dramatics. But, he doesn’t pull away - no, he keeps you closer.

Another sound is brought forward to your senses - this time it’s Neytiri, smacking the back of her youngest son’s head, her words a hushed scolding. You faintly hear her tell him that someday soon, that will be him and his own mate, but the voices drown out when your attention is pulled back to Neteyam. He’s not looking at you this time, rather he’s laughing at his brother’s grumbling of having to put up being like Neteyam, and as your eyes drown in everything he has to offer, you realise the whole world had started to disappear, until all you see is him.

After a long day spent with the younger Na’vi within your clan, you’re finally finding the time to slip away and relax. Your time had been filled up with helping teach the children different aspects that Pandora had to offer before they go their separate ways and start heavily training on what they wish to do in order to provide for the clan - whether that be foraging, hunting, healer, weaving... You and a few others had taken the children out into the forests, showing them the plants, the fauna, the creatures, the life that constantly emanated around them.

This was arguably one of your most favourite things to do - teaching the children the way of Ewya was such a beautiful experience when you got to witness their eyes light up in awe, fascination cleaving at each and every one of them, wanting to know more, to explore more. Spending time with them made your heart grow fonder, the images conjuring in your mind of the day that yourself and Neteyam get to do such things with your own children. You’re still unsure as to how many you’d like, but you know that Neteyam would be the best father, without a shadow of a doubt.

Such thoughts stay lingering within the corners of your mind, unrelenting in their leave and it has the corners of your lips turning up in a subtle smirk. The walk from the tent you had just visited after dropping off the last child wasn’t such a distance from your own, and you couldn’t stop the sigh of relief breathing through you when you spotted it. Already, you were picturing yourself laying down in the comfort of your mat, eyes closed as the worries slowly start to slip away, your dreamland beginning to take to the forefront of you mind.

Lately, your dreams had only been filled with Neteyam, and you wondered what else they’d have you thinking about that night. The time of your bonding with Neteyam was just around the corner now, on the precipice to being the next chapter in your life, and both nervousness and excitement filled your entire being. You wanted it to be special, you wanted to be everything Neteyam ever wanted in a mate, and that’s where your nerves started. But, the moment you thought of them, they were shut down by your excitement - you knew Neteyam, and with the way he had been treating you all this time was only further evidence to how much he cared about you. You truly didn’t have anything to worry about.

“Y/n!” Your name pierces through the clan, senses heightened when you recognise the voice, such a sound being the cause of your craned eyes and elevated tail, like they had a life of their own and were looking forward to seeing him, too. You stop in front of your tent, watching as Neteyam slowly jogs his way over to you, his hands hidden behind his back.

“Hi, ‘teyam,” you greet him, an affectionate smile playing against your lips.

He sends you one back, but this one falters a little towards the end, like he’s unsure of yourself. It has you feeling nervous again, but this time, the nerves are understandable - he’s beginning to fidget from foot to foot, nodding to himself as though he’s telling himself everything’s going to be okay. “Hey,” he replies, voice low and quiet, so unlike the Neteyam you’re used to. One of his hands points towards your tent behind you, still keeping the other one hidden away from your prying eyes. “Can we talk inside for a moment?”

Such words only make you feel worse, so many jumbled thoughts and suspicions bouncing from one side of your intrigued mind to the next, concocting different possible outcomes of what could be the source of his anxiety. You repeatedly tell yourself that it can’t be anything too damaging - after everything the two of you have been through together, even before finding out you were to be mated, it’s practically impossible to pull you apart, now. Without yet being mated, you know the two of you are bonded for life, and nothing can ever come in between that. Still, a small part of yourself feeds off his apprehension and you can’t help but wonder if going inside your tent with him will change the course of your life as you know it.

With a tense smile, trying your best to muster up the courage and pretend that he’s not worrying you, you nod, moving towards the entrance. Neteyam’s quick with his movements - instantly, the flap is pulled open for you, his hands holding back the fabric and allowing you to usher yourself inside. That’s a good sign, you tell yourself - if he’s treating you like this still, whatever he wants to talk about can’t be too bad, right? Unless he’s being a gentleman so the idea of tearing you down doesn’t seem as harsh.

You walk over to your mat, placing yourself down in a hurry, looking up at Neteyam and gesturing for him to do the same. He does so, and his body movements of sitting down opposite you are stiff, too. You notice his hand still firmly placed behind his back. Suddenly, the air feels uncomfortable, too much to bare as it continues to envelop you more, his worry stifling every one of your senses. Sucking in a breath, you let out a nervous laugh, hoping to ease the tension, wanting to get it over with in the chance it’s something bad. “’Teyam, you’re worrying me.”

As soon as you speak, he’s on alert - his head shoots up to you, finally able to properly look at you directly, his pupils blown wide. Tension steadily starts to dissipate from his figure, a brittle chuckle parting from his lips as he shakes his head slightly. “I’m sorry, I do not mean to worry you, it’s just...” he pauses, takes a big breath like he’s preparing himself for something monumental and steadies himself. “I made something for you.”

The strain of believing Neteyam was going to be telling you bad news disperses and it’s like it was never there in the first place. You feel your ears wiggle as they come to understand exactly what he said, your tail swaying back and forth in anticipation. “For me?”

He breathes out a soft laugh, eyes lighting up at how adorable you look to him. “Of course, am I courting someone else?”

It’s like the nervous Neteyam has completely disappeared, and finally you’re looking at the one you know and love - the Neteyam that is brave, and proud; the Neteyam that enjoys teasing you just to get a shy reaction out you; the Neteyam that can’t help but be sarcastic despite being a nervous wreck just moments beforehand. You hate the way he teases you, and yet you love it at the same time. You shake your head at his sarcasm, in slight disbelief at how he had managed to change his demeanour in the matter of a split second, a velvet-like giggle breaking out before you have the chance to force it back in. Now, he knows he’s got you right where he wants you.

Slowly, with both precision and care, he moves his hand from behind his back, palm outstretched and showing off what he has to offer you. Your eyes land on a beautifully woven necklace, all different colours, shapes and sizes of beads and feathers and small intricacies tied all into place to make it perfect. It’s completely caught your attention, and you can’t seem to train your focus away from it. Subconsciously, your hand covers your mouth, smile wide and tears beginning to brim along your waterline. “Oh, ‘teyam. It’s beautiful.”

He brings himself closer to you, body shifting over until you’re now sat side by side, legs touching. He holds the necklace delicately in his hand still, bringing it further into the light to show it off, to show you how it looks in its true element. A beam plays at his lips now that he’s finally at ease, seeing the way you look so adoringly upon the object, so intense and ethereal it surely can’t be real.

With a slight shake to his hand, he points to one of the beads, a watercolour blue that glistens when it shines perfectly against the light. “This bead is to represent when we first met - when you tripped and fell into the water.”

The memory comes back to you so quickly, it felt as though it happened just yesterday. You had been stood by the water, so close your toes were tipping in to the cool liquid, watching the fish as they swam in their habitat, blissfully happy and fascination clear on your features. Neteyam had unintentionally snuck up on you, scaring the life out of you as you fell into the water in surprise. Instantly, Neteyam felt bad, helping you out of the water and making sure you were fine, but as time went on, Neteyam loved to casually bring it up in conversation, if only to tease you.

You playfully smacked his arm, features recoiling before gasping out at his remark. “I did not trip - you scared me!”

He laughs, eyes imploring straight into yours, and you can see the hearts filled lovingly within them. Shaking his head, he bites back his smile, moving onto the next one, this one a darker brown, almost rusty in colour with different edges of tones. “This one is to represent the time when I started to help you with your bow.” As another memory filters through your mind’s eye, of two younger looking Na’vi practicing in the midst of the forest on how to correctly aim, you start to realise that this necklace your future mate had made for you is personal. He didn’t choose these specific ornaments just based on their beautiful colours or their variety of textures... he’d chosen them to portray each pleasing moment you had spent together, right from the very beginning. Your attention doesn’t falter, eyes trailing slowly from the necklace up to him, watching as he continues to talk through each one; so in his element, so in love. “This is a feather I found that looks similar to the colour of your ikran, and this one is supposed to represent when I asked to court you-”

You couldn’t help yourself - his voice was drowning in your ears, a ringing sensation taking over until silence deafened you and there was nothing else important in the world. Whilst he’s still speaking, you take his face gently within your grasp, holding onto both sides of his face, turning him to you and smashing your lips against his own. You kiss him passionately, as though it was the last one you may ever share together. It isn’t usually you who initiates moments like this one, but the more he spoke about every moment you shared together, concocting them and making them into something you’ll wear for the rest of your life proudly, all you wanted to do was show him how much the gesture meant to you, how much he meant to you.

When you eventually pull back, your lips linger against one another, breaths mingling together. You press another soft kiss to his lips, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing the apples of his cheeks. Looking up at him, you watch as his eyes start to open slowly, dazed, hazy, in love. A grin rests along your features at having been able to get him so drunk on you in such a way. “Nga yawne lu oer, Neteyam (I love you, Neteyam),” you breathe out, pecking his lips again, even lighter this time. “Oel ngati kameie (I see you).”

A vast smile is obvious upon his features now, uncontainable, but it wasn’t like he wanted to contain it anyway. For as long as the two of you were together, he’d show off all of himself to you, no matter the circumstance. Such a sight before you - all for you - has your heart fluttering. Neteyam presses his head impossibly closer to your own, trying his hardest for the two of you to become one, kneading his face against your own, wanting his scent to be all over you, for everyone to know that you belong to him. “You have no idea how much you mean to me, yawne (beloved), and how eager I am to finally be all yours.”

Your cheeks are hurting from how happy you appear, but there’s so much love being shared between the two of you, you simply don’t care. “And, I cannot wait to be yours, muntxa (mate).”

It’s the first time you’ve admittedly called him your mate - after all this time, it’s usually him to call you such a name. But, seeing him today, presenting you with a gift of such beautifully personal memories, you finally give into yourself. Even if it is still some time before the two of you mate as one before the eyes of Ewya, but all in all, Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan will always be your mate.

A laugh bubbles in the back of his throat at finally hearing you call him such a name, pearly fangs on full display as the two of you show off your eagerness to come together as one - of how much you care for one another, how much you yearn for one another.

You truly cannot wait to be all his, because there was no doubt in your mind that Neteyam was always the one for you.

taglist ;

@bakugouswaif @andraga12 @draiochtwrites @teyums @neteyamslovrr @tinkerbelle05 @netesanrr

#𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐑’s work ── ✎#neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar 2 #neteyam fluff #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam sully x you #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x fem reader #neteyam sully fluff #neteyam sully smut

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kooktrash · 1 year

Text

guys my age | jeon jungkook

summary: a summer spent at your friend’s place wasn’t something to be anything to look forward to. her hot, young dad would seem to change that for you when you decide a game of teasing would suffice your boredom. you got more than you bargained for when you realize he’s not a fan of games.

➣ pairings: dilf jk x female college student!y/n [she/her]

➣ genre/au: dilf au, best friends father, summer house, smut, age gap [38 & 21] pent up sexual frustration

warnings: 9.5K words. smüt. 6 9 position [ oral f & m receiving] use of protection. roūgh missionary. they go like three rounds. reader gets on top. dirty talk, use of ‘little girl, slüt, etc but lightly] y/n is a man eater lowkey. jk wants to resist but he can’t lol. y/n is rich and spoiled, Y2K style. big bOobs lol. y/n is besties with jk’s daughter. stays at summer home. y/n is a cöçk tease. always teasing him. lawyer jk, with tattoos and piercing. y/n has bellybutton piercing

song inspo: cola — lana del rey [i got a taste for men who are older] affection — abra [did you close your eyes and think about me like I think about you?] guys my age — hey violet

Illicit Desires | DILF!Jungkook collab

The blaring sun burned against your skin, your patience running thin the longer you waited outside. A key was being jammed into the doorknob with no luck to actually get it to function. You were tired, hot, and hungry—never a good mix when it came to your mood. Your feet hurt from the kitten heels you wore and the black handle of your suitcase was getting hot with the summer heat.

“Hurry up,” you whined, a manicured hand with long pink nails waving in an attempt to fan yourself. Only seconds later the click of the lock was heard and the door was opening. You and the person in front of you groaned in relief and you were trudging inside the large house you’d be spending your summer at.

“My dad’s not home so we’ve got the place to ourselves for a couple hours, what should we do?” Your friend, Jieun, asked once the two of you made it to the stairs to take your things to her room. You gave a shrug in response, “I don’t know, I’m hot, I can’t think.”

“Oh, so you think you’re hot?” She joked with you knowing that was not at all what you meant but you winked at her anyway. Your gum smacked with each chew as you looked around her bedroom that looked fit for a teen which made sense since she’s been rooming with you in the dorms for the last two years.

“I thought you didn’t like your daddy,” you were teasing but also serious when you sat on her bed, skirt shifting to show more thigh. Jieun just sighed, opening her drawers to pull out a bikini, “It’s complicated. The divorce with my mom was ugly and it was only three years ago. I was a teen so I held a lot of resentment toward him and her.”

“Wasn’t she the one who cheated?” You asked curiously as she passed you your smaller bag for you to fish out a bikini. Jieun nodded, “Yeah, I know but my dad was always busy. Always gone for work and I don’t know, 17 year old me wished he was around more so she wouldn’t feel so lonely.”

You let the subject go in order to change out of your clothes that had been way too hot for the heat and into something way too small. A hot pink bikini with small triangles covering your breasts and a small pair of bottoms with silver links to hold it together. Jieun directed you outside and she went to get drinks and snacks for you two before joining you. You managed to pull a heart shaped floaty toward you and laid inside of it with your legs hanging out the side and a cherry coke in your hand.

“Is your dad hot?” You asked looking over your sunglasses as they hung low on your nose bridge. Jieun rolled her eyes as you passed her the donut floaty.

“Don’t ask me,” Jieun said as she finally made it on, “And leave my dad alone, the old men you like are sad.”

“Whatever, I was just asking,” you laughed, “And I’ll have you know I prefer them younger.”

She just rolled her eyes moving next to you and the two of you floated in the pool for a good while before dropping yourselves into the cold water. You played only one round of mermaids until you swear you died and came back to life.

At the sliding door stood a man, a very attractive older man dressed in a forest green matching shirt and shorts that could pass as pajamas. His shirt was slightly transparent but unfortunately you couldn’t see much. He slid the glass door open coming out with a pair of black sunglasses that he pushed up to his hair. Jieun turned to look at what you’d been staring at and she waved a hand, “Hey.”

The man’s eyes swept back to you, “Hey.” Jieun swam to the edge of the pool pulling herself up with absolutely no grace and pointed to you, “This is my roommate Y/n, she’s staying with us this summer.”

“Oh really?” He asked looking to her, “I don’t remember you telling me about this.”

She just shrugged, taking her towel and stretching one out for you to grab. You dragged yourself to the edge of the pool before placing your hands on the edge and pulling yourself up in one go. You didn’t notice the way Jieun’s dad watched the water cascade down your breasts to your stomach and thighs until you dragged yourself up. You took the towel from Jieun and dried yourself off looking back to him, “Hello Mr. Jeon, I’m Y/n, Jieun’s roommate for the past two years.”

You placed your hand in his as greeting and he gave it a firm shake, “Call me Jungkook, has Jieun gotten you set up in the guest room?”

The three of you went upstairs and for some reason you felt the need to walk with a sway in your steps knowing Jieun’s dad was behind you. You also knew you shouldn’t be doing that in just a towel and very skimpy bikini but you didn’t care. You knew in the back of your mind Jieun was one of your best friends and thinking her dad is hot should be weird. You also knew you were going to do what you want anyway and if that was planning a little game for the summer you were going to do it.

In truth, you were a very spoiled person. You came from money and your dad never thought twice about doing what you wanted so obviously you would be spoiled. You didn’t care about the consequences, you just did what you wanted because it was fun. It wasn’t going to be anything serious anyway and it’s only your first day staying here and you had to entertain yourself some way if Jieun wasn’t around.

“Thank you for letting me stay Mr. Jeon, I wouldn’t have had anywhere to go for the summer,” you said once it was just you and him after getting changed. He was bringing in blankets and pillows for you. He stopped to look at you, eyes threatening to trail down your body again but he forced himself to only look at your face, “It’s no problem, did your parents not let you stay with them?”

“They’re away for the summer,” you told him leaning against the back wall as he put the bed sheets on the bed you’d be sleeping on, “They didn’t want me in that big house all by myself for three months.”

“Maybe they don’t trust you,” he said with a small smile trying to make himself feel comfortable around his daughter’s friends. It is very hard to not think about the girl in his house that was so physically attractive it had him anxious. It just wasn’t a good idea to think about a girl his daughter’s age. You had no idea he had these thoughts, all you knew was that you were in the mood to talk, “They don’t, I’m not always the best behaved.”

“In my house, I hope you’ll behave,” he let the words slip before he could stop himself. They sounded more flirty than he meant them to when in reality he just hoped for no trouble with you. You weren’t making this easy when you tilted your head to the side and batted your lashes, “Keep a close eye on me and maybe I will.”

Jungkook seemed to freeze for a moment, his hand fixing the fitted sheet and using his sudden tension to stuff the fabric into the frame. It was silent and when Jieun came up looking at you, “I ordered pizza.”

“Yum,” you smiled cheerfully, “Are you joining us, Mr. Jeon?”

You stood at the doorway facing the stairs but turning your head back to look at him. He was already walking behind you and when you got to the stairs, his hand touched your back lightly. He stared forward, looking distant as he said, “I have to keep an eye on you, don’t I?” With that he looked to you quickly before looking ahead.

The first few days you barely had a chance to see him, you mostly hung out with Jieun and went out with friends. He was up early and got home late so you didn’t see him often. Tonight though, you’ve gotten lucky. Jieun has a date tonight with her boyfriend and she’d be staying the night at his house. Now you would be home alone until Jungkook came home and sometimes it’s not till late evening.

So you spent pretty much all day, after noon, by yourself trying to quench your boredom doing anything you could. Now you’re outside again tanning by the pool, or attempting to. The sun was already setting so there wasn’t much left and yet you remained outside.

“Jungkook, man, are you even listening right now?” A voice boomed through the speaker of his cellphone. He could barely make out the person’s voice as he held his phone away in a trance. His attention was elsewhere, somewhere he shouldn’t be focusing on, but he was.

It was hard not to stare at the view just on the other side of the sliding door. This time you were in yellow. A bright pastel that had a silver heart ring holding your top together at your breasts. From here he could see the belly button ring you had and you just looked… like sin. He was too lost to notice the way you pushed your glasses down to stare back at him. It wasn’t until you gave a little wave that he snapped out of it.

“Yes, I’m listening,” he muttered back to Taehyung as he went back to the kitchen to at least pretend like he wasn’t watching you. It was wrong, you were his daughter’s age but you just looked so damn good. And you know you’re attractive, you know that just one look and someone would squirm and currently that’s him. He has no business being 38 watching a girl who is barely 21 and thinking about the way your bottoms hugged your ass that he catches himself looking at from time to time.

His hand ruffled his hair in an attempt to shake the thought of you away, “But I should go, I’ve gotta start dinner.”

“Oh, but I wanted to know how it’s been having Jieun back? Does she come home for dinner everyday?” Jimin asked, still trying to keep a conversation going but then you came in. The tiniest denim shorts on with the button and fly open showing off your stomach and a small triangle of the yellow bottoms. You seemed to forget a shirt, sauntering into the kitchen in just the tiny bikini top and shorts, a pretty smile on your face, “You’re home, I was feeling lonely.”

His phone nearly slipped out of his hand.

Snap out of it, Jungkook, he’s reacting nervously around you and he shouldn’t.

“I’m about to start dinner,” was all he said to you before continuing his conversation with Jimin, “It’s been good but she’s not home today. She’s spending her night with Yoongi.”

You sat at the island leaning against the marble counter, pressing your chest into it and his eyes flickered to the way they seemed to bulge even more than usual. Oh God.

He could see small, hard buds through the fabric, “Jimin I’ve gotta go, I’m going to start cooking.” He needs a cold shower, like now.

“Or we can order,” You said once he was off the phone, “I’m sure you’ve had a long, hard… what’s the word I’m looking for?”

“Day?” the word came out in a stutter that had his neck heating up in embarrassment. Why was he getting flustered? He’s had very little interaction with a woman consistently, aside from the women at work and they were nothing like you. They wore gray pencil skirts and white button ups—not yellow bikinis where he could see your hardened nipples poking out. This doesn’t mean he hasn’t had opportunities to date in the last three years but with his divorce and busy with work all the time he didn’t go out. He was a boring man in his eyes.

You flashed him an innocent smile that he’s not sure he believed, “Then I’ll treat you to dinner tonight, a thank you for letting me stay. Should I call and order?” Unsure of what would come out if he opened his mouth, he just gave a subtle nod.

“I’m going to shower while we wait,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. You told him okay, ordered, and then showered yourself.

For dinner you had Italian and you were fully dressed now—still not enough for his prying eyes—but enough for him to focus on his food. He hates to admit that he’s way too curious tonight to ask questions, “What are your thoughts on Yoongi? Does he treat Jieun right?”

“Mhm,” you nodded with a light bite on your lip, “The sweetest, perfect for her.”

“For her? Wouldn’t everyone want a sweet guy?” He’s not sure why he asked or why he was curious to see what you’d say. All he knew was that his plate of food was no longer being eaten, and instead played with by scraping his fork against it. He avoided your eyes and you loved every second of it. He was just so cute getting nervous by a younger woman like you. It’s just too tempting to wanna make him squirm. A big, bad man like him falling underway by your teasing.

“I like them a little meaner, a little more authoritative,” you said looking up at him, “Like the ones who can put me in my place when I’m being difficult.”

“Hm,” he hummed in thought looking into your eyes, “Difficult?”

“Yes, I have a tendency to want what I want and find a way to get it,” you told him, voice more assertive, “And if I don’t get it, I become a huge brat.”

“So someone who can handle you?”

“Yes, but I’m a lot to handle, Jungkook,” you said his name laced with lust and if he said it didn’t go straight to his flaccid member, he’d be lying. He took a big drink from his glass of wine, “I’m sure someone is up for the task.”

“I hope so, I can get very impatient,” you raise your glass to your lips to drink, your eyes locked with his. With that you stood up with your plate, “Are you done?”

He gave a silent nod, not trusting himself to bite back a comment about how he has no patience for teasing. He’s not even sure those would be the exact words he’d say, or if he’d say how capable he is of putting someone in their place. You took his plate and washed them before excusing yourself to your bedroom to answer some call. He caught a small glimpse of the name already calling you and it was a man.

It’s been two weeks. Two hard weeks of forcing himself to not think about his daughter’s friend, but it’s been so damn difficult that you’re clouding his vision. All the looks you sent his way whenever you were with Jieun or the little comments you’d make that had his head spinning in guilt and lust. It’s been too long since he’s slept with a woman and anytime he sees you, he’s reminded of it. Like right now.

He was supposed to be working on a case with his partner, Namjoon, but he was distracted. They worked at the kitchen table but then you came in with a short, fitted black dress that barely covered your butt. Even Namjoon seemed to turn and stare when you opened the fridge and bent down at the waist to look inside. Jungkook’s head rested on his palm as he watched, half hoping your dress would rise just a little more but it didn’t, sadly. He was supposed to be doing all the paperwork that laid across the dinner table, not stare at you rummaging through the fridge.

You pulled out a bottle of pineapple juice, sipping from a straw as Jieun came down just a little more dressed down as she asked, “Is he almost here?”

Jungkook snapped his attention back to you in confusion. Is who almost here? “Are the two of you going out with Yoongi?”

“I am, Y/n’s meeting up with a guy, so lucky you dad, you might get the house to yourself,” Jieun said putting a hand on his shoulder waving a greeting to Namjoon, her father’s friend.

“Don’t miss us too much,” you teased, making him look back at you. “How well do you know this guy?”

“Just enough, we had a couple classes together,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders still sipping on the pineapple juice. He’s sure the taste of the fruit would remain in your body for hours.

Jieun laughed, “Y/n doesn’t need to know him well for her plans tonight.”

You sent her a wink that Jungkook caught and he’d be lying if he said a small part of him didn’t feel… jealous? Upset? Annoyed? All of the above? He doesn’t want both of you gone, he’s gotten used to a full house and he doesn’t want to feel lonely again. Jieun he can understand, she’s seeing her boyfriend but you… you’re not in a relationship. You don’t have any obligation to another man so why can’t you stay home. Despite all the women who notice him, he seems to have a love/hate relationship with the attention you gave him. Part of him wanted nothing to do with you in that sense, but the other was enough to boost his ego. Despite his age he was clearly attractive enough to gain the attention of a 21 year old used to college guys. So, no, he doesn’t want you to go out with one of those guys and remember that Jungkook was a boring lawyer and father of your friend.

“Well he’s outside,” you said looking at your phone, “I guess I’ll head out now.” Jieun joined you when Yoongi sent her the same text and you two were leaving.

“How are you living with that unaffected?” Namjoon finally said once the two of you were out the door. Jungkook shook his head, “I’m not.”

Long after Namjoon left, Jungkook found himself still awake working in his office. It had to be around midnight and he didn’t feel tired, he felt anxious. It stresses him out because why on earth does he feel anxious? He should feel relieved to have time to himself but he doesn’t. He’s currently staring at the clock every five damn minutes. Jieun won’t be coming home, he knows that, but now it looks like you aren’t either.

He shouldn’t care about his daughter’s friend but something about you just draws him in. You were like a succubus in his eyes, a beautiful girl who can draw anyone in and even he fell victim to it. It’s so wrong, you’re too young, you’re his daughter’s friend. But you’re so damn enticing, like every little thing about you. From the way you chew your gum while looking at him to the sway in your hips when you walk. The way you batted your pretty long lashes when you’d ask how his night went. You make little comments that he swears were suggestive that he knew he shouldn’t like, but he does. It makes him blush, honestly.

He knows he’s an attractive man. He’s fit, he’s got the looks, money, age. He has tattoos and piercings and he’s clean. He knows that women at the store try to flirt with him in line. The ones at work always have some favor to ask or some help they need. When he’s at the gym he feels eyes on him but none of it matters. Jungkook has thought about going on dates when he’s been asked and lately he’s been thinking about trying again but he just doesn’t know if he should.

At his age, is it even worth it anymore? His wife of eighteen years cheated on him just three years ago. He doesn’t think about her outside of when it has to do with Jieun but still. That’s the last woman he’s been with, it’s not like he’s your age.

You’re young and a very attractive person. You’ve got the smile, the confidence, the looks, the humor. Honestly, he could go on. He’s thought about it before, you have a way of drawing someone in and clearly it was true. If you’re on a date then obviously you know how to get someone interested, especially if Jieun always jokes about how you string these boys along. Actually, he’s not even sure if what you’re doing now is part of the date.

It’s too late for dinner. That could only mean one thing, you were probably at the guy’s place or maybe a hotel room. If that was the case then clearly you could only be doing one thing. That thought alone was enough to make him stiffen in his chair. He shouldn’t be thinking about all the things you were doing in your little black dress, or even with it off.

Jungkook knows what your body looks like under that dress. He knows that you have a little tattoo on your hip that was only noticeable when you wear one of your tiny bikinis. And god, he shouldn’t, but he feels so damn envious of whoever gets to see what lies under those poor excuses for bikinis. He can only imagine what man you’re with, what hands are touching down your naked body.

The look in your eyes when a certain spot was touched, maybe your back would arch and your hips would buck. Maybe you were sensitive, so damn sensitive that when Jungkook first gets his hands on you, you’ll be dripping in your panties—if you wore any.

Wait.

Fuck.

When did this become an imagination of him being the one touching your body? His jeans seemed to tighten, his member growing more erect with each passing image of you under him. Falling apart with his teasing this time, batting your eyelashes at him like an innocent, sweet girl, when you were anything but. The things he could do to you, teach your body so many different sensations that only he could bring you—

“Mr. Jeon.”

His entire body froze, even the small pulse of his hard length at the sound of your voice. Jungkook snapped his eyes to the door of his office, now more open than before with you standing there looking like a walking sin.

You just called him Mr. Jeon and it seemed to send him back to reality about the fact you were much younger than him. Not only that but a friend of his daughter’s.

“Y/n,” he cleared his throat, shifting in his chair awkwardly, “When did you get home?” Could he call it that? Call it your home when you both know it really isn’t. You giggle softly, pushing off the wall sauntering over to his desk with a little sway.

“Just now, I didn’t want to wake you,” you moved around his desk making him more anxious by the second. He was suddenly too aware of the bulge between his legs due to his perverse thoughts. His hand was suddenly on his lap trying to hide himself when you leaned against the desk, right next to him. Your hands on the wooden table supporting your weight, “But you weren’t even sleeping. Why are you up this late?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Jungkook looked into your eyes when you frowned. Your face looked flush, eyes a little red and nose puffy. You had a lazy smile, “And here I thought you were waiting up for me.”

“I didn’t even know if you’d be back,” he looked away when you pushed off the desk, shifting his eyes back to his abandoned files. He kept his gaze stuck on it as you walked behind him with a hand on his shoulder, before there were two. His breath hitched as your hands touched his shoulders. You leaned against his back just briefly and he could smell the alcohol on you. It made him tense and he could feel his back muscles twitch. Your palms flattened against his shoulders before sliding them down toward his collarbone as you said, “I bet that worried you. Not knowing what I might be doing, who I might be with.”

He didn’t say anything, eyes failing to stay open when the fabric of his button up shifted against his skin with each drag of your hands across his shoulders, “What are you doing?”

You just smiled looking down at him. You couldn’t see his face but you could see the angle of his head hanging low. You could see the clenched fist around a fountain pen and an arm conveniently placed on his lap. “You just seem so stressed lately. I want to help you relax.”

“Oh,” his voice strained when you nearly closed your hands around his neck, the unbuttoned top of his shirt nearly exposing more of his chest than he wanted it to. “Y/n.”

He needs it to stop.

This needs to stop.

Now. He could feel it, he was very close to snapping. This isn’t right, not at all. But it’s not entirely wrong and it’s all just confusing him and his dick. He had to think of something else but he didn’t want to tell you to stop touching him even if he knows he should.

“How was your date?” He asked, probably one of the worst things to ask but he did so anyway. You didn’t stop your movements, unaware of the way his lips parted when your nails scraped along his chest. God, it felt so damn good to be touched. It was all he could think about and he didn’t want it to be.

“It wasn’t a date,” you told him, continuing your massage, “We went for drinks and, no, nevermind, I won’t say.” You ended with a deep sigh that had him whipping around to stare at you.

“And?” He asked, finally exposing himself to you with disheveled hair, lust blown eyes, and a wrinkled button up. “What else did you do?”

As he asked and his eyes fell upon your neck, something was building up within him. The sight of the small red mark on your neck, “Well?” His voice was deeper, more stern and definitely not happy. He was jealous and you knew it.

“So you were worried,” you giggled, “Were you thinking about it all night? What I might be doing?”

He didn’t confirm nor deny it but he did look away as if he’d been caught. He couldn’t face you but that didn’t stop you from pushing. This was like the red button.

You know you shouldn’t, but you couldn’t stop yourself from pushing.

“Well…” you took a long sigh, a soft moan in thought, “After the drinks we went back to his place and well, you know how that goes.”

“Hm,” was all he said and you stopped running your hands along his shoulders. For some reason he was disappointed that you did. You just smiled, “That’s all I can say unfortunately, I missed you too much to stay the night so I got an Uber and came home.”

“Y/n,” his voice was firm but the hair on his arms rose at the raspy tone of your sleepy voice, “What are you doing?”

“Having a conversation with you,” you told him simply as you moved back against his desk, his knee so close to your leg as his chair spun out just a little. His eyes narrowed, “You know what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t think I do,” even as you said that you bit your lip, “Why don’t you tell me?”

He ran his fingers through his hair, clearly stressed. He can’t just tell you. What if he’s just imagining your touches? Your innuendos? He’s much older than you and for him to be bringing this up was embarrassing enough. So instead of doing it, he just gave up.

“You should go to bed.”

“Are you going to take me?”

It went quiet and you swear his gaze darkened in an instance. You weren’t sure if he was deciphering every meaning behind your response or if he was debating actually doing it. You wanted him to. Just look at him. Whenever you even think about him, every concern for Jieun as a friend completely slips away. He’s just too damn stunning, too damn perfect. The fact that he was older just made it ten times better.

You looked at the clock behind him before saying, “I guess I’ll go, but I’ll miss talking to you.”

“Y/n,” he grabbed your hand, stopping you from walking away. You looked back at him as he stared down at where your hand was in his. No.

No. Jungkook, don’t even if you really want to at least get a kiss. No.

“Yes?”

He cleared his throat preparing himself to talk, “Goodnight.”

You smiled, “Goodnight.”

You left without another word and the second the door shut behind you a breath of relief was pushed out from his stomach to his mouth. “Fuck,” he groaned looking down at his aching member.

He doesn’t think he can resist you the next time.

It happened again a couple nights later. This time around, Jungkook felt even more delusional over it. You were only looking at him but you weren’t being at all appropriate. Especially not now having dinner with Jieun and Yoongi. It was a table of four so he was close to you and God, this was getting harder by the minute—or no, he was.

Your foot was pulling at his pant leg and he had to pretend like it wasn’t affecting him. He listened to you talk to Jieun instead.

“So how was the other night with Jimin?” Yoongi asked you at the dinner table. Jungkook pretended like he wasn’t interested, too focused on his dinner plate. From the corner of his eye is where he watched you. You gave a small shrug, still running your foot past his knee until your leg was on his thigh. He places a hand over your ankle, a small squeeze to try and get you to stop instead of just pushing it away.

His hand was rough with age and work and your foot was smooth. It was big, with long fingers, even his pinky and you wondered what else he could do with them. Jungkook hand began hesitantly caressing your leg as you spoke, “Good, but I’m not going out with him tonight.”

“Someone else?” Yoongi asked as he served you all more food from the middle of the table. You smiled, “Maybe.”

Jungkook’s jaw tensed and he shook your leg off of him. He doesn’t know what you’re trying to do with him but he’s a grown man. If you want to do things with him he’s not going to wait around for you to finish up with another guy. Especially with a guy much younger than him who he knows won’t be able to please you like he could. Just from the way you’ve been acting he knows not everyone can handle you. You’re a cocktease and maybe he’s delusional but he knows you want him. So why are you going on a date with another man?

No.

Why does he care?

Why is he thinking about a girl young enough to be his own daughter? Why is he imagining what you’d look like sitting pretty on his dick. Why doesn’t he care that Jieun is sitting on the other side of him and all he wants is to slide his fingers up your leg and under your skirt. He could if he pulled your chair closer. He really could. He feels guilty but not enough to ignore this anymore, they’re only thoughts anyway. He wouldn’t actually do it… no, never.

“Do you want us to drop you off when we leave?” Jieun asked once dinner had been over. You shook your head, “No, I won’t be with him till later. What time are you getting home?”

“I’m not,” Jieun said, patting Yoongi’s stomach, “Staying at his place.”

“Alright, I’ll probably start getting ready.”

Jungkook went to his office when everyone left. He would do more work tonight, now he’s got all the time in the world apparently.

Once again he was going to be alone in the house.

Once again you were going out with another man.

Once again he finds himself thinking about it and feeling irritated.

Jungkook doesn’t know you have something up your sleeve. He doesn’t know that the whole time you were talking with Jieun all you could think about was how to get her father to fuck you how you’ve been craving all summer.

He couldn’t even concentrate on his case files, he could only think about what you were doing. He hasn’t heard the front door or the sound of your heels clacking on the stairs. You must be in your bedroom trying one one of those tiny little dresses you like to wear.

How was he to know what you were currently doing? Was it through the text he just received with your name displayed. He picked up his phone, unlocked it, and clicked on your message. It was a photo.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, hand running over his face and into his hair as he looked at it. There’s no mistaking what he’s looking at.

You were sitting on his bed wearing the skimpiest slip of black lingerie he’s ever seen. It was a dress, but it wasn’t even enough to cover the black lace panty you wore. His eyes followed the length of your legs, pressed together so elegantly as you posed in front of his large mirror, perched on the edge of his bed. One of your hands was on your lap, keeping the short dress from showing any sliver of underwear. It was your form of teasing, acting like it was innocent and playing it so poorly, but that’s what you were playing at. You knew what you were doing.

Jungkook knew you were bad news the second he saw you in the pool with his daughter. Even before he saw your body, your eyes were seductive. Your tone was always flirty, and he responded to it. God, since the beginning he would react, always giving a little answer to your flirting, always looking when you wanted him to. Even now, his fingers hovered over the keyboard finding it hard to just tell you to stop. He read over the text attached to the photo.

you: should I wear this out tn?

His breath hitched roughly, tension running through his muscles processing your text. You were apparently showing him something you planned on wearing tonight? Asking for his opinion? Sitting on his bed? There’s no way, absolutely no way you’re doing this to him right now. He dropped his phone on the desk and leaned back against his spinning chair. His hands covered his face, easing some tension away in thought. You’re driving him absolutely crazy. How does he even respond to that? He doesn’t.

You might have really done it this time, you’re not even sure what transpired you to act out this way aside from a selfish need to get what you want. This had started as just a way to not get bored during your summer stay and that was all it was supposed to be. It’s not your fault that Jieun’s dad is the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. And if things went the way you wanted them too, he would be in the same room as you very soon.

If they didn’t, then it was safe to say you would never show your face around here ever again.

There was a bigger sense of confidence that came with preparing this whole ordeal, but the wait itself broke it down. You were so close to getting up and running out the door when it opened. In walked Jungkook, looking as disheveled as possible but he tried to hold himself together. You looked up at him from your seated position as he took in the sight of you.

“Y/n,” his eyes trailed upwards from your exposed legs to your pretty face. A small choked out groan escaped his lips as he shifted his gaze to the ceiling, “What are you doing?”

“Getting ready?” You asked standing up to look at yourself in the mirror, “How do I look?”

“Y/n,” his voice was stern, turning to face you, “Don’t play with me.” You didn’t bother taking your eyes off your own reflection, capturing his glare through the mirror. “I’m not, Jungkook, I’m just asking a question.”

“Jungkook?” He asked as you finally turned to him, taking a small step closer. He’s so used to hearing you refer to him as Mr. Jeon teasingly that he forgets what it’s like for you to actually say his name. You nodded, standing in front of him, “Or Mr. Jeon?”

He looked down at you now that you were mere inches away from him and he could see the twinkle of mischief in your eyes. You don’t care who he is, you don’t care if he’s older either. He wanted to tell you this was inappropriate and to leave but he would never kick you out. He wouldn’t tell you he didn’t like it either, “Are you wearing this for a boy?”

A boy. Someone younger than him, probably one of those he’s heard you like and it’s not him. He’s a man, he can really show you what it’s like to feel pleasure. You looked down at your slip dress that had him looking down at your exposed cleavage. Without thinking you pressed a finger into his abdomen lightly, “I’d prefer it if it were for a man.”

Jungkook’s gaze didn’t falter away from yours, the sexual tension at a high as he leaned into the touch of your hand as it lowered. You were so close to him, chest nearly against chest and you were wearing so little. He licked at his dry lips, “Why’s that?”

“Guys my age don’t know how to fuck me, Mr. Jeon.”

In an instance, any thought of putting a stop to this vanished. Every reminder that you weren’t just an attractive younger woman expressing interest in him, vanished. All it took was the soft whisper of your response into his ear for his body to turn to mush. Jungkook barely shifted his head to the side when your lips met his, hungry and fast. His hand pressed into the back of your head, tangling in your hair, to keep you from moving back but you wouldn’t dare. The only moment your lips separated was during the first press of your tongues, meeting in the middle with the slide of spit.

Jungkook couldn’t get enough, the last time he had even kissed a woman, touched one in this manner, it had been a while. A long while that created such intense build-up when you came along making him break. The hand that hadn’t been laced in your hair was touching your waist gently but firm. It was soft but you could tell you wouldn’t be moving away anytime soon. It didn’t stop your fingers from trailing even lower than his abdomen, to the belt on his jeans. With one hand you began to tug on the belt loop, turning your neck as he began to leave wet, needy kisses down your jaw, your back arching from the way he had to bend over you to kiss your neck.

He released a low, breathless grunt at the rough pull of his zipper, hips moving with the force. The arm he had on your waist pressed you to his side when your hand dipped into the waistband of his briefs. His other hand left the back of your head, sliding down toward your neck, releasing a short moan, “Y/n.”

It has been too long. Too damn long since the last time a woman touched him. No, it’s been long since he let a woman touch him. Jungkook always had many opportunities to see someone but he never did it. He never seeked anyone out for sex, he just let himself take care of his own needs and feel unsatisfied. Now he’s letting someone young enough to be his daughter put their hand on his dick.

And it felt so fucking good. Jungkook stopped his attack on your neck to take a proper inhale, trying to keep himself under control as you palmed his naked member. Your fingers wrapped around his thick length giving him a soft stroke. You kissed down the expanse of his neck feeling the vibrations of his low groan. Your palm hugged the head of his cock, twisting your wrist and smearing it in his own precum. Your fingers brushed along the underside of his tip and he couldn’t wait. He wanted more.

With the hand that he had on your neck, he held you away from him. Your eyes met, both looking blown out and yet you still managed to look so seductive. His eyes shifted back down to your parted lips releasing small pants of breath. He licked his dry lips and with a raspy voice, he said, “Get on the bed.”

You looked down at his cock that still felt heavy in your grip. With your eyes locked with his, you moved to the bed sitting on the back of your legs, arms on your lap looking oh-so-obedient. His breath hitched at the sight and he was quickly undressing himself the rest of the way standing naked before you as you sat looking pretty in your little black dress. He got on his knees letting them sink to the mattress as you got up too.

A shiver ran down your spine at the feel of Jungkook’s rough fingers running across your shoulders to lower the thin straps of the dress. They trailed down your back softly, catching the ribbon that tied it together against your spine, and undid it The thin, silky fabric dropped down on the bed revealing more of yourself to him. Jungkook looked down at your chest, he was used to the size of them. All summer long you were showing off your pretty tits in tight tops and slutty bikinis, and yet the full view was so much more. Your nipples were pointed out, sensitive from being exposed and his rough, large hands cupped them. You released a quiet whine as his fingers pinched your nipples. Jungkook’s jaw was open, speechless at how soft you felt in his hands, “You’re such a pretty girl.”

You nodded, biting into your lip when he lowered his head to place a kiss on the plumpness of your breast. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders not wanting to stop when his tongue swiped at your nipple, licking it before sucking it into his mouth. Jungkook traveled his hands down to your thong, groping your ass before getting a hold on the material. With little effort on his end, he tore one side at your hips and did the same to the other until it was coming apart from your legs. Your underwear was left ruined as he held you by the waist, guiding you on top of him as he moved to lie back. You didn’t say anything, only soft moans leaving your lips at the way he moved your body around to his liking. You were both fully naked now and he guided you to turn away from him, gripping your thighs as he backed you up to his head and you got the hint.

Jungkook was being impatient, he needed to feel everything. He couldn’t wait to taste your pussy or to feel the tightness of your throat constrict around his large cock. He wanted to do it all now, not later. Later he can explore slowly, learn every way you want to be touched. Because if you think he’s going to be done with you after one round, you’re wrong. He moved his elbows under your knees making sure your thighs hugged the sides of his head and his body shivered. Just above his face was the prettiest little cunt he’s ever seen. Slick coated the outside and pooled at the center. Your clit was in view and the way you arched your back made your pussy pop out more. He swallowed dryly.

How did he manage to get this sight in front of him? He was a fool to think he could withstand your games, clearly not. But he can’t just let you toy with him, he’ll show you how to make a woman cum.

As soon as his wet tongue met your oversensitive clit, you had to cling to his thighs, nails digging into the muscle at his boldness. Your mouth parted in silent moans as his hands pinched your hips, pressing you down further against his mouth, getting the first taste of pussy he’s had in years—even before his divorce. You better believe that he was not doing this to his ex wife the months leading up to separating. Even if he was, nothing would have compared to how eager and wet you were.

“Da—Ju-Jungkook… ” You whimpered as you brought his cock toward your mouth, tongue swiping along his side in hopes of bringing pleasure to him fast. Your tongue began from the base of his cock where his neatly trimmed hair ended, licking all the way to his tip. From there you wrapped your lips around his head letting your tongue swipe along the slit that released clear dribbles of precum. As best as you could, you tried to relax your throat, guiding him down as far as you could.

The feeling of a warm and tight mouth around his dick had him moaning. His eyes rolled in pleasure as his thighs tensed, “Oh fuck, Y/n,” he groaned against your cunt, your wetness running down his chin. “Your mouth feels so good.”

Lewd sounds came from your mouth with each thrust of his cock down your throat, tongue licking as much of his length as you could. Jungkook was getting messier with the need to bring you to an orgasm with his tongue. Slick sounds formed every time he lapped his tongue between your pussy lips, nipping at your clit with each swipe. His fingers were digging small crescents into the roundness of your ass as he made you ride his face harder.

“Oh my god,” you cried out like a whiny brat as your hips twitched in pace with the cool in your lower belly. Jungkook placed a hand behind your head not to apply pleasure but to keep you in place. “Oh my god,” you repeated and you were so damn loud, so shameless with your moans and he’s only used his mouth so far. He’s so thankful you never tried this when Jieun was home. He wouldn’t be able to keep you quiet if his dick was in your tight snatch.

Jungkook was relentless, licking at your cunt even as you released your juices all over his tongue. He ate you out through your orgasm, letting it dribble down his chin that he pressed against your clit, shaking. He was close, so fucking close but if he cums it’s going to be in your pussy. He needs it now.

You nearly fell to your side as he moved you off his lap and you collapsed onto the bed, hand feeling around against the comforter to find your little item. He was too busy fixing himself between your legs to notice you touch a small black package. You picked up the condom moving it in front of him and he took it without a word. Jungkook felt like his hands were shaking as he put it on. The anticipation of being inside you was building up and making him jittery. You were going to be so sensitive with the way he ate your pussy and he was so hard it will be very hard to be gentle. His hips dipped down as his hand lined his cock between your folds. Wetness stuck to the condom, and he began a slow grind making sure to touch your clit as he did so. His hands pressed against the bed near your ribs and looked at the sight. You brought a hand down between your legs, spreading your slick around his cock hoping to get him to just fuck you already. You didn’t want him to tease you or stretch you or gently talk you through it. You want him to stuff you full of his cock and tell you much of a bad girl you are.

You don’t know how to explain but he was such a man. Not a boy, not a college guy or late-twenties coworker. He was a man who worked out every day, trimmed his body hair, cooked meals and did yard work all while looking so unbelievably hot. He would take care of you, he has been taking care of you and you wanted him inside of you now.

With your hand already against his cock you took a hold of him as you lined him up with your entrance hearing a soft grunt leave his lips. Jungkook was going to stop you and do it himself but he found it so much hotter to feel you guide his cock into your pussy. The softest pussy he’s ever felt, hugging his dick with warmth and wetness. Sucking him in as far as you could take him and dragging along his length as he pulled back in a nervous twitch. He won’t last, he won’t last at all

“Come on Mr. Jeon, show me how a real man fu—ohh,” he sank back in, the same vacuum sealed feeling hugging his cock and he found it hard to pull back out. Jungkook was quiet, too focused in the need to just fuck that he’s not paying attention. He’s doing what feels good until you tell him to stop. His hands snuck between the mattress and your ass, finding purchase as he lied down against your body. His knees dug into the bed and the muscles in his thighs flexed with the first real hit of his hips against yours, cock digging in just a little further. Your arms and legs wrapped around him like a baby when his hands held your butt so tightly that your hips lifted off the bed. He fucked you onto his cock, back flexing with each thrust that made his spine protrude in his arched form in an animalistic way.

Jungkook was so turned on, so close to the edge that he wanted to scream. He could hold off so much longer but not right now. Not while your moans tickled his ears and your skin was hot under his mouth with each kiss he placed on your neck. You moaned loudly, “I’m so close, oh… daddy, ohh.”

“Shh,” Jungkook mumbled against your throat, “Just cum baby, be a good girl and cum for me. I want to feel your slutty pussy cum around my clock.” He was so close, he just needed the final push and he wouldn’t be so desperate to get off.

Like before, the only warning you gave to your release was the tremble in your thighs. Jungkook released a low growl that made your throat bob as you practically hugged each other with the way he still held your ass to his cock, both coming undone at once.

Jungkook was heaving for air, legs shaking as he set you back down the inch he lifted you up. Your walls still clenched and unclenched around him and he had to turn you both on your side to be more comfortable as he began to pull out.

He rolled onto his back, hand on chest as he looked up at the sky, “Fuck.”

You smiled moving to sit lips placing a kiss to the line between his feelings the way he gasped for air. You wondered if you’d have to wait for a second round another day. “You’re still hard.”

It was true, despite the puddle of thick semen on his lower stomach, he was still hard, and your hand running up his thighs wasn’t helping. Jungkook looked down at you, “Condom?”

“I’m out but I’m on the pill.”

Jungkook wanted to be more rational but he could. He still needed to feel you on his cock. “Come sit on my dick, pretty baby.”

With a flirty smile you did as told, quickly swinging your legs around his hips as you held his cock up, Jungkook had to bite his lip hard to hold back the moan he was going to let out. This time around, Jungkook didn’t hesitate to place his hands on your hips and push you down his length.

“Y/n,” he moaned as you began to ride him, grinding against his base every time you sank down on his dick. You’d raise your hips and drop them back down against his with a smack. “Fuck, tightest fucking pussy. Fuck, look at you.”

You were such a sight with your pretty face displaying pleasure, your first bouncing with how hard you rode him, belly button ring glistening every time light reflected off the jewels. Jungkook’s hand ran over it before coming up to your breasts. “All summer, teasing me with this body, leaving me to jerk off in the shower to the image of it.”

Your pussy twitched at his words, “I touch myself to the thought of you, Mr. Jeon, I’ve been dreaming of this cock in my pussy.”

Your words traveled straight to his dick, pulsing at the idea of you with your fingers in your cunt fucking yourself to him. You were riding him with such eagerness that the bed shook with each bounce of your hips and his hand couldn’t help but spank your ass urging you on. Once again he felt himself close and he wanted to warn you. He was waiting to know for sure if he was going to when everything seemed to stop except the bounce of your hips splitting your cunt open with his cock. His eyes shot to the bedside table where your phone sat facing up, Jieun’s picture on screen.

His heart stopped, trying to get you to slow down but it was too late. He was reminded of your age and relationship with his daughter. You reached for it before he could stop you and pressed it against your ear fighting his hand that reached for it, “Hello?”

“Hey ugly, is my dad home? He’s not answering his phone.” Jieun asked through the phone. You looked down at Jungkook who shook his head with pleading eyes for you to stay still but not stop. He still needed to cum.

“He probably left in his room,” you said the last words with a grind of your hips that had him biting into his knuckles to fight back a moan. You sat straighter, enjoying the stretch of his cock, “Is there something you want me to tell him before I leave?”

His eyes shifted to you now. What do you mean leaving? You sent him a smile, shaking your head to assure him you didn’t mean it and that you wanted to have fun with him all night. Jieun signed, “Just tell him that I left the keys to Benz on the mantle.”

“Mmm, okay,” you said softly as Jungkook began to respond with his hips bucking to meet yours. He couldn’t hold on anymore. “I’ve gotta go Jieun, I’m about to leave, I’ll tell him.”

You hung up with that and he took your phone dropping it on the mess of pillows on the floor before sitting up to hug your body fo his, “Such a dirty fucking girl.”

“She left the keys to the car on the mantle,” you moaned out as his face dug into your perky breasts, nuzzling into them. He growled in frustration, grinding your hips on his length, “I already know, fuck she interrupted us for that?”

“While I’ve got her best friend riding my cock like the little slut she is?” He licked your nipple and his words had you moaning, shaking in his hold. He really didn’t seem to care anymore.

He was fucking you from below, sitting you on his lap and making you bounce on his cock, “You like fucking your friend’s dad? You like older man dick?

“Yes, fuck Jungkook, only yours,” You moaned making his chest blossom with pride at your words. With your affirmation, he moved onto his knees, hands under your ass as he fucked you onto his cock.

“Gonna cum for me? Is my baby gonna cum on my cock?” He asked with a coo but with a deep tremor in his voice, “Yeah baby? Such an eager brat, look at you.”

“Mhm,” you nodded and he went faster.

When you came undone, Jungkook took you off his cock. He couldn’t be gentle with it as he came all over himself. A hand was on his dick as he eased himself through his second orgasm of the night looking over to you. You were tired after your own third orgasm and toppled onto his bed. Jungkook knew he should feel some form of guilt but he doesn’t. Instead, he runs his hand over your back to your ass as you laid on your stomach. Your perky little ass taunting him so much that he leaned down and place a kiss on it, biting lightly into the plump flesh making you shake your hips from sensitivity. He gave it a final smack.

Maybe when the sex-fueled fog leaves his mind he’ll realize the damage he’s done.

He fucked a woman much younger than him, fucked you real good.

He had let himself be seduced by a total nymph.

His daughter’s friend.

Yet all he could say as he lied down on his back to catch his own breath before a possible third round was…

“You’re such a good girl when you’re taking dick.”

He had about a month before you and Jieun left back to school and he was going to make it worth your while. You’ll never want younger men again. You’ll want his cocking fucking into you every time he visits Jieun. He’ll sneak into your dorm when she’s at work and fuck you with all the pent up desire he’ll have from not having your body in months.

And you’ll take every inch he gives you like a good girl.

REQUEST 1

::.

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a/n whewww look at that taglist 😮‍💨also this was so fun to write and just imagine dilf jk 🤩

#jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook au #dilf jungkook #dilf smut #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #jungkook #jungkook imagines #jungkook fic #kooktrash collab #bts smut #dilf bts #bts jungkook #bts imagines #guys my age

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redheadspark · 6 days

Text

Here (Part Two)

Summary - Azriel stays by his mate's side, not knowing his family is rallying behind him to find out who attempting to kill his mate

Warnings - Mostly Angst

A/N - Part of the Ocean Eyes Series. I posted this as a sequel of Part One, which got insanely reactions! I am so glad you guys liked Part One and I hope you like Part Two!

Part Three Found Here

"What's the plan, Rhys?"

"I'm focusing more on my cousin's health and her life in the balance than dealing with her attacker."

"That's not where my head is,"

"Enlighten me then, Cassian,"

Cassian rolled his shoulders and eyed his High Lord as Rhsyand was perched at his desk in his office, the sun setting over the rolling hills outside the River House, and the cooler air was blown onto the office with ease. Cassian leaned against the wall, his arms crossed and his head reeling with questions and scenarios that he wanted to figure out immediately. But Rhysand was remaining calm, too calm for the Illyrian Army Commander's liking. He considered the wounded Illryian who was asleep upstairs, his friend's mate, his family. Someone tried to hurt his family and take away his family, and Cassian was fuming from the inside out.

But he was also a changed Illyrian, just as Rhysand and Azriel were. They were all fathers now: Rhsyand with Nyx, Azriel with Alec, and Cassian with his daughter Rose. His daughter, sweet and yet fiery Rose was a splitting image of his mother but had his infectious and playful heart. They all had offspring to protect and think about, no more rash decisions and acting out on a limb. The children had to come first, and Cassian was not willing to do anything that would bring his family harm. Azriel never did that himself, yet that led to Alec almost being killed as a toddler and Azriel's mate now in a bed upstairs hanging between life and death. Nesta would never let Cassian do anything like that, not just for Rose but for Nesta too.

Cassian was the one who found you first, sprawled on the forest floor bleeding from your wing and the arrow still hanging out of your wing. You both were out in the outline border of Velaris, Cassian getting a hunch that there were rogue beings there making their way across the border into Velaris territory. You on the other hand were meeting with some of the farmers and shopkeepers that lived in the cottages there to check on them and talk business in contributing to the Community Center.

Maybe it was fate that he was there and come enough to hear your scream out, but he knew your scream far too well from knowing you since you both were younglings. He flew towards the wail you let out, his heart hitting against his chest far too hard and thinking it was a trick of the mind.

Everything slowed down for him as he gathered you in his arms, you were out cold and the poison already working in your blood. He had to act quickly, time was of the essence, and your time was about to be snuffed out if he didn't get you help in time.

"The marks on the arrow," Cassian stated, reflecting on the arrow that was piercing your wing and sicking out so harshly that it sickened him to rethink it again, "We need to know where they came from so we get a hunch as to who did this,"

"I already have a big hunch, and I got in contact with the very High Lord that I'm thinking," Rhysand hummed, his cooldemeanor was hiding the anger he had. Cassian raised a brow at him as Rhsyand rang his thumb over his fingers back and forth, a tactic he would use when he was thinking deeply, "High Lord Beron has been notified and is coming tonight,"

"What?" Cassian asked in shock, standing up stiffly and no longer leaning against the wall.

"He knows the utmost importance of this since it does involve my cousin…my fucking family," Rhsyand said the last part in a low tone, not a growl but close enough, "We are going to meet at the Townhouse since I know both yourself and Nesta would rather not have the High Lord of Autumn Court in your home,"

Cassian snorted, then gave him a questioning look, "Does Elaine and Lucien know what happened?"

"Feyre reached out and told them to stay at their home here in Velaris for the time being. In fact, I don't want any of the Inner Circle going anywhere outside of Velaris until this is resolved once and for all. We either stay in our homes or at The House of Wind until I say so," Rhysand explained as his violet eyes looked out the window to see the last images of the sun still in the sky before it hid into the horizon.

"Is that an order?" Cassian asked, Rhsyand's eyes shot back to his Commander. Cassian, though tamer than he used to be when he was younger, was still reckless at heart at times. Something inside of him wanted him to find whoever did this and bring them pain. You were family to him, meeting him through Rhsyand when he was a boy and considered him a brother of yours. His rational side was teetering to be pushed aside, and he was fine with it.

"I don't want another member of my family hurt, Cass. I consider you family, long before you became my brother-in-law. You need to think of your wife and daughter and that they need you," Rhysand explained to Cassian, seeing Cassian's eyes soften from the mention of Nesta and Rose, "We need to be smart about this, not reckless. I want you with me when we meet with High Lord Beron,"

Cassian hummed, knowing that Rhsyand was right when it came to being reckless. He then gestured his head over to the doors that lead out of the office, "What about Azriel?"

"I don't want him anywhere else but with his wife, she's his priority now. And besides, I would rather not leave Azriel alone in the room with High Lord Beron. That's if Beron, or Autumn Court for that matter, did have something to do with this. He is not in the right frame of mind to be anywhere else,"

Cassian knew he was right about that too. The rage Azriel must be feeling at this moment, not knowing who in factharmed and attempted to kill his mate, must have been explosive. Cassian himself has been Azriel in such a way before, the anger that would fester deep down and be unlashed by either his shadows or his Truth Tellers. Cassian and strength behind him, but Azriel had something deeper.

Something more menacing.

"Alec is also staying here until his mother is well again, though he still doesn't know what precisely happened," Rhsyand explained as he got up from his chair and walked around the desk to stand near Cassian with his arms folded in front of him, "I don't want Alec anywhere else but here, he's my nephew and he needs to be protected now more than ever. We all do, but epically him: someone is hunting his mother and father, and I won't let him become an orphan under my roof,"

"None of us want that, Rhys," Cassian reasoned with Rhsyand, "He's secure and protected here with you and Feyre, and he's safe with his father, the safest he’ll ever be,”

"Which is why we need to be smart. For now, let's just focus on this meeting with Beron and making sure my cousin is comfortable and safe while she heals and come back to full health," Rhsyand stated, then pausing as he gave Cassian a more cornered look, "How is Alec and Azriel now?"

"Alec's okay, he just misses his mother. As for Azriel…it's hard for him," Cassian confessed. Rhysand hummed and rubbed his eyes, already thinking of the next steps that were to come. The meeting tonight would be far too important, life-changing, and yet his cousin was still in the back of his mind and her health was his main concern.

All he could do now was hold onto his Inner Circle, his family, so close in hopes they wouldn't slip away.

"Alright, buddy. Time for bed, okay?"

"Ok, daddy,"

Azriel softly smiled as he watched his son hop into the massive bed he was going to sleep in, the guest room that wasacross from where you were still sleeping and still healing. He left the door slightly open, being able to see you from where he was in Alec's guest room as Alec was settling into his bed.

Alec was only told that his mother was sick, severely sick, and he was not able to see her. Of course, it confused him at first, not understanding that he wasn't able to see his own mother since he had seen her sick before, but he knew better than to question his father. Seeing Azriel looking worn down and defeated made Alec worry all the more.

But Feyre was a step ahead, making sure he was well fed at dinnertime and kept him busy with his cousin Nyx until it was time for him to go to bed. Still, his mother was in the back of his mind, wondering what was it that made his mother so sick. He missed his mother, hugging her and hearing her voice telling him goodnight. Azriel tried his best to be present with Alec, but his son caught onto something that was hidden from him.

Perhaps a trait he inherited from his father.

"Alec, I know this is different from what we're used to," Azriel explained to Alec, who was watching his father with his wide blue eyes as he was snuggled under the soft sheets of the bed, "But you are being such a trooper for going with the flow of it all. I promise you that things are going to go back to normal soon, okay? As soon as momma is all better, we'll go back to our house and things will be back to the way they were,"

"Is it going to be forever?" Alec asked tentatively as he searched his father's tired eyes. Azriel felt a twinge of pain that his son was still kept in the dark, so speak, when it came to what truly happened to his mother. The last thing Azriel ever wanted to do was to lie to his son like this, to have that trust broken at any moment.

"No, not forever, baby," He reassured Alec as he pushed the inky black hair out of his son's blue eyes, "This is not forever, I swear to you. You believe me?"

"Yes, Daddy," Alec replied, Azriel smiled at his son and leaned over to kiss the top of his head. He was about to leave his son to sleep, and as Azriel eased himself up from the bed, Alec spoke up again in a gentler tone. So gentle, that it sounded like the curtains were swaying in his room from the night breeze.

"Daddy, is momma gonna be okay?"

Azriel could have cried then, seeing his son watch him for an answer. Azriel never wanted this for his family, the fear of losing someone he loved and another person he loved was filled with fear and worry. Alec was only four years old, far too young for something like this to happen in his life. Nothing could prepare him for this: consoling his son and hoping that his wife would pull through.

Alec needed his mother, Azriel knew that deep down. There was no greater bond than Alec's bond with his mother, it was thick and filled with so much happiness and love. Inwardly, Azriel wanted that himself with his mother, and he did have that in the blink of a moment when he was young. To see his mate give that same love to his son was beyond rewarding.

Now his son, looking at his father with worry in his young eyes, was asking about his mother.

"Yeah…yeah she's gonna be okay," he reassured Alec. He had to give Alec hope, the hope that his mother would be herself again. Although he had very little hope, he would at least give some of that hope to his son. He leaned down and kissed his son one more time, "Get some sleep, okay? I'm gonna check on momma and come back to you, I love you,"

"I love you too, Daddy," Alec replied, then curled into the bed under the sheets as Azriel moved away. He felt like he needed to be in two places at once: with Alec and with you. Although you were sleeping and till healing, Alec needed you and needed your warmth. Azriel wished he could change it all, make you all better so you can hold your son. Yet as he watched Alec fall asleep, facing the window with a look of peace on his face, Azriel could breathe a bit easier.

He kept the door into the guest room open slightly, mostly in case Alec needed him as he walked silently across the hall into the room where you were in. Still asleep, facing the empty chair where Azriel was perched for the past few hours, the moon shining into your room to cast a bluish light along your still wounded wings. Azriel could even see the moonlight shine through the thin membrane of your wings, showing the veins and the damage from the Ash Arrow.

But the way you were snuggled against the body pillow, head against the soft pillow, and your long hair draped over your shoulder, you looked more peaceful than you did earlier when Azriel found you. Azriel sat down on the chair, taking in a long breath as he held his hands together in his lap and watched you. Your deep breathing, the softness that was now slowly coming back along your skin and your cheeks thanks to the medicine from Madja.

"I might be talking to myself here, but I hope you can hear me," Azriel said aloud in the room, his voice sounding a bit raw as he watched you in earnest, "But I need you to pull through and get better. I….I don't think I can do this without you. I won't have the strength to, no matter how hard I'll have to try. I need you, our son needs you. He needs his momma, and I…I don't wanna do this alone and without you."

He might have sounded silly since he was talking alone in the room, but then again he needed to get it off his chest. Bottling up all his fear that he's had for the past few hours, would have suffocated him. The only person he was ever safe to unload his feelings, to be open and exposed therapeutically, was the one who was asleep in front of him and unable to be fully present with him.

"I'm sorry I failed you and couldn't protect you," Azriel admitted, sinking a bit in his chair as he was fiddling with his fingers, Clutching them together tightly and refusing to let them go, "I promised you when we were mated that I would protect you, keep you safe and never let anything happen to you. I broke that promise, and I know I can never repair that,"

He thought that if you were awake, you would reprimand him for being hard on himself. Azriel could even hear it clearly in his mind, your kind voice scolding him for being immensely harsh towards himself. You've always helped him out of his moods and insecurities, including what he does and how he takes care of others around him. Azriel thought back to a talk that he had with you when Alec was still a young infant, he was voicing his worry about taking care of his family and if he was doing enough.

He needed you to bring him back to the light, and not have him hide in the darkness.

Azriel reached out and took your hands in his own, feeling the coolness of your skin and yet how soft they were. Healways loved your soft hands, a soothing balm against his calloused and scarred skin. He leaned down and kissed the back of your hand, his lips along your skin had you shift in your sleep and hum.

"Sleep and come back to me, come back to us. Your son and I need you more than anything, so I need you to get your strength and open those eyes for me when you're ready. I'm here when you wake up, I promise. I love you more than life itself, more than my own life, and if I could trade mine for yours then I would in a heartbeat. Just gather your strength, we'll be here waiting for you," Azriel proclaimed to you and your sleeping form. He did speak the truth: he would trade his life for yours since at times he felt you had more good for the world than he ever did.

Azriel cannot picture a world without you, without any of your beautiful traits or your tender heart.

Azriel heard it, almost like a whisper, as he was dead asleep with Alec cradled in his arms in the spare guest room. His arms were tucked around his son, who was snuggled against his father and snoring softly. It was so soft, like a breeze, which didn't disturb the Spymaster at first.

But it was also distinct, not the sound of the curtains fluttering next to the bed or the very soft ticking of the clock on the fireplace mantle. This was a shutter of a whisper, and it was calling his name.

Azriel…..Azriel….

His shadows hummed, licking along Azriel's arms as he stirred a bit in his sleep. Alec was thankfully a deep sleeper and stayed in slumber, even though his father was feeling the sensation not just with his shadows but in his mind. It was a familiar voice, so familiar that maybe it was a trick of the mind as Azriel took in a long breath. But he heard it again, a pinch louder and his name being called out as if the source was so far away. Fighting through a fog that was thick and almost recognizable.

Azriel…Azriel…

Azriel was still asleep, but it was becoming more alert as the voice was getting a bit louder now in his mind. It was no longer a dream, it was something else, something familiar to him. So familiar like coming through the front door of the small little cottage where he lived, or flying amongst the cloud with his wings stretched. Even the familiar touch of your lips against his own made him feel safe.

But he finally heard it, and his eyes shot open on high alert.

Azriel….I'm here…

It was you, your voice, speaking through the bond.

You were awake.

To Be Continued….

A/N - Part three?!?! Let me know if you want a part three!

Tagging - @valeridarkness @impossibelle @acourtofbatboydreams @prettylittlewrites @fxckmiup @sizzlingstarlightsky @iluvyewman-blog @masbt1218 @a-courtof-azriel @homeslices @zanzie @topaz125

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slushycoookie · 13 days

Text

Pierced Perfection ~ Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader

Content: Breast play and fondling, Miguel goes crazy over your nipple piercing, leg humping, MINORS DNI!

A/N: Thought about nip piercings which turned into thinking about how Miguel would react to them so here we are. Enjoy!

“Baby, can you come here for a sec?”

Miguel came into the bathroom at your call, “Yeah?” He noticed you covering up your chest with your robe and his brows lowered, “What's wrong? You okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine.” You reassured him with a smile, “I have a surprise for you.” He gazed at you in question, watching you open your robe.

Two red stones caught his eyes, dangling from a silver ring that enclosed around your nipples. The piercing fit perfectly on your body, as if it was made for you. Miguel couldn’t stop staring at it.

“Wow. They look great.” He got closer, “When did you get them?”

“Around noon.”

You had discussed the idea a few times about getting nipple piercings. A couple of designs on the internet caught your eye and you thought it would be a good idea to get one. Your husband liked the idea as well. The two of you did research on the healing process, understanding that it could take up to 6 - 12 months for you to heal. In some people's experiences, it was much longer. Almost 2 years. You were a little worried about that, unsure how your body was going to react. But you wanted them. So you got them.

“It's just been tingling a little but it's not so bad so far.”

Miguel’s brows furrowed again, “Tingling is okay, right?”

“Yes.” You provided a pat on his shoulder for more reassurance, “The artist told me that's normal and it shouldn't take too long to go away.”

He nodded at that, eyes still going back to your exposed chest. Miguel’s hand twitching at the idea of wanting to touch them. Your breasts were one of his favorite parts of your body and you couldn't help but have a twinge of guilt at the unexpected surprise.

“I'm sorry. I should've told you when I was going to get them.” Your lips formed a pout, “So you could prepare.”

“No, it's okay.” It was his turn to reassure you with his gentle hands on your arms, “It's not the end of the world that I can't touch them-”

“Well, you can touch. Just not right now.” You clarified, “You can’t suck on them now though.”

“Oh.” Miguel took a moment before clearing his throat, “I'll be fine. I can give more attention to other parts of your body.” You smirked when his hand squeezed your ass cheek.

Miguel stayed true to his word, not providing any additional stimulation by mouth or touch while you were healing. Your man had amazing self control, even when it came to sex. He tried to stay away from making contact with your breasts. Not wanting to hurt you. If he was really feigning for them, he'd place his head between the valley of your chest. Warm tongue licking up the crevice, causing you to shiver.

You knew he truly liked them by the way he stared with fascination. Crimson eyes reflecting back at the jewelry with a semblance of similarity. How a distinct feature of him was also on you. It was a little embarrassing when he asked for a picture of your breasts. His reasoning was so he could look at them while he was at work. You were no stranger to taking pictures like that and sending it to him. But somehow your mind created a scenario of an innocent spider coming in to see your unseemingly naughty picture on display.

It was a big day when Miguel found out he could finally touch them.

You were extra careful in cleaning your piercings, knowing you were going to clean them again once your husband finished fondling. He placed you on the counter in your bathroom, your shirt pulled up above your chest. No bra as you were still trying to get used to your nipples brushing against the padding. They've been extra sensitive since the procedure. But you also haven't been touched like this for 4 months.

“Be gentle.” You warned, “I'm still a little…”

“I got you.” Miguel kissed the top of your breast. As a test, he motioned his thumb against the jewel. That simple motion causing shockwaves throughout your body. You bit your lip, already missing the feeling. He did it again with your other breast and you sighed in bliss. “You okay?”

You hummed, “Feels good.”

Miguel grinned, placing his palm against your nipple, creating a gentle circle. You gripped his shoulder to keep steady. Low moans escaping your lips from his touch. He stood in between your legs, watched you whine and whimper for him. While his hands carefully rubbed you. The large palm hitting a right spot on your nipples that made you squeeze your thighs around his waist. He silenced you with a kiss, drinking up your sounds of pleasure underneath him.

You pushed your chest against him, begging for more under his hold. Only for him to pull away, tugging against your bottom lip.

“They feel nice.” His voice low, eyes filled with lust.

You leaned forward again for more but he dodged your advances, chuckling. You purse your lips, hunger in your eyes. “Just nice?”

Miguel flicked your nipple, causing you to tremble, “Just nice.”

You wondered if you made a mistake in getting your piercings. Because your husband was very touchy. Even though he couldn't taste you yet, he loved playing with your breasts. Running his fingers over your erected nipples casually. Gently pinching them. Teasingly flicking the jewelry. He'd always ask if he could touch them, still considering himself as being a gentleman. Who loved playing with your boobs.

He was going to be ecstatic when he found out he could taste them.

You were feeling great one day. Your nipples healed up nicely after almost a year. You thought it would be the perfect time for Miguel to place his mouth on you. And you were also going to clean it later to be sure.

If he had a tail, you would see it wagging. His eyes lit up when you told him on a call he could finally place his mouth on them. Whenever he was ready to do so.

That meant now as he portaled back home, hovering over your body in bed. “Let’s go.”

“Wait a minute.” You sat up, holding in your laughter. “Don't you still have work?”

Miguel sucked his teeth, “It's not important right now.” He got on his knees, hands gripping your sides. Desperation clouding his eyes. “Let me taste.”

How could you say no to that?

You pulled up your shirt to tease but your husband demanded to take it off completely. So he could have room. Your heartbeat picked up in your chest, practically heard in your ears. Miguel licking his lips in anticipation. You closed your eyes as you felt his breath against your breast, gripping the sheets to stable yourself.

A whimper escaped when Miguel's tongue flat against your nipple. Done in a way where the tip swirled around your ring, sending sensations throughout your body.

“Finally…” He groaned while sucking on your nipple with care, “I missed this.”

A firm hand rested on your back before pulling you closer. Miguel provided extra care to your nipple, practically almost putting your entire breast in his mouth. He moaned as if he starved. Wanting to keep you there as he finally got what he was denied for almost a year.

Your whimpers turned into full out sounds of pleasure as his fingers twirled your other nipple, his nail scratching along your areola. He kept you in place, making sure you never wandered off far. Your husband was still in his suit as you felt the material against your leg. While in his pursuit of tasting you, you felt his hard cock. Hips grinding slowly against your leg. Muted groans along your breast.

“Tan bueno (So good)…” He muttered, “Sabes tanto (You taste so)…”

Miguel rutted against you, his tongue and lips taking turns messing with your nipples. His hard thrusts shook the end of the bed. Causing you to hold on to his body. Your hand deep into his curls while the other was on his shoulder. Gripping him tight as he continued. Grunting and groaning before suddenly stilling. He was cumming against your leg.

His mouth parted against your nipple as he came. Those crimson eyes rolling back in his head. And all you could do was watch. Tug against the strands of his hair to prolong his orgasm.

“You really missed them, huh?” You asked when he calmed down, his face still buried between your breasts. Panting against them. All Miguel did was nod, hugging you tight.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara smut #slushycoookie writes

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jadestone2 · 10 days

Note

IM ABSOLUTELY IN LOVE WITH UR GUNS N ROSES + READER FIC AAAA I NEED MORE ITS LIKE A WHOLE NEW WORLD (please if you do write more I will be jumping out of joy (^.^)

Roses ‘n oil

Theme: nsfw

Summary: Going to the bar with your boyfriends was a mistake, especially when someone flirts with you. They came up with an agreement to mark what’s theirs.

Pair: Boothill & Argenti x chubby reader

Tw: bitting, oral (fem), praise

Song: Don’t go insane

A/n Don’t be shy to make yourself an official Noonie for my blog<33 you also didn’t tell me if you wanted sfw or nsfw, I did nsfw because I said I would for these 2

Maybe going to the bar with your boyfriends was a mistake, especially when fights are bound to happen. The moment Boothill saw there was an ongoing fight he instantly shoves his hat on your head, covering your eyesight.

His hat smelled like his cologne and the nasty smell of cigarettes, a hint of oil smell too. His intense smells clouds your head, though you welcomed it.

You sigh, watching a table smashing into a guy’s leg. Boothill goes crazy, his demonic laughter filling the bar as people watch with anticipation.

“Ugh, why am I surprised? So much for a calm day” You say, resting your head on the palm of your hand.

“It’s alright, my love. Boothill will be fine, how about I get you a drink?” Argenti asks, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

You nod your head, watching how Boothill doges glass bottles being thrown in his direction. Argenti could see how tense you were, he gently rubbed at your shoulder.

You watch the red man slowly dispersing into the crowd of people, the long red hair fading from your eyes. You sit in silence, still watching how Boothill seemed to enjoy making a scene.

Suddenly the smell of alcohol smells stronger, a drunk man having a drunk smile on his face. Your eyes twitch in annoyance, he takes a seat by you.

“Looking good, darling” the man slurs, he looked like he was going to black out.

His hands grab at the fat of your hip, squeezing. You cringe, removing his hand from your hip.

It felt like the fight stopped, the cheering slowly going dead quiet. You shiver, someone was staring at you with an intensity that would pierce through you.

The click of shoes as someone walks close to you, it sounds like they are getting closer, making you even more nervous. The sudden cheers getting louder, incision someone won.

“Hey there, partner. I’d like to let you know that this little sugar is off limits” Boothill says, his voice coming directly behind you.

You tense up when you see a revolver coming in your eyesight, pointing at the man. Terror strikes the man, frozen in fear.

You could see him tremble, holding his hands out. Boothill chuckles when the man quickly walks away, almost tripping over his feet. That famous cocky smile on Boothill's face, facing you with amusement.

“Was that necessary? Put that away, people are looking” You avoid, shoving his revolver into his pocket.

“What’s happening, my love?” A familiar red hair asks, placing down your drink.

“You were supposed to watch ‘er, she could have got hurt” Boothill grits, a glare sent Argenti’s way.

“Me? I went to get her a drink because you were stressing her out, starting a fight” Argenti says, you could see how he was starting to get annoyed.

Argenti almost never gets mad, always so calm, but it was obvious Boothill’s antics were getting to him. The obvious conflict brewing between them, creating an uncomfortable atmosphere.

“Guys, it’s okâ€” let’s just go home” You says, grabbing their hands.

You take a sip of your drink, the alcohol sending a sweet flavor down your throat, your taste buds tingling. Argenti and Boothill share a look, lifting an eyebrow. Boothill chuckles, putting a hand on his hip.

“Of course, sugar~ let’s just go back home” Boothill says, walking past you.

“What’s that for?” You ask, confusion dripping from your voice.

Boothill looks over his shoulder, his teeth showing as he smiles brightly at. You could hear the quiet chuckle from Argenti, deciding not to question it.

The way back home was quiet, the sound of romantic music playing quietly, the click of Boothill’s boots. Argenti hums quietly, he must know this song.

He seems at peace, even though he seemed pissed earlier. It looked like something was bothering him, his brows furring in concentration.

Honestly, can you shut the flip up partner?” Boothill says, glaring at Argenti.

You snort, guess he’s still not able to cuss. Argenti continues to hum, opening your house door wide enough.

“Sugarplum~” Boothill draws out, circling around like you were his prey, his hands tracing around your hip.

Argenti leans in, kissing your lips. He rubs at your cheek, the smell of roses fill your head, the cologne he wears.

“Boothill!” You shriek, feeling sharp teeth sink into your shoulders.

A tongue swirls around the area, coating the area in a thin sheet of spit on your neck. You stare at Argenti with pleading eyes as Boothill nimble on your neck, leaving marks.

“Let us mark you, sugar~” Boothill coos in your ear, licking at your earlobe.

Argenti carries you to the couch, helping you out of your clothes. The metal of Boothill’s hand sends shivers down your spine, goosebumps covering your soft flesh.

“Mmh, you don’t mind? We want to worship you, your beauty” Argenti says, parting your thighs.

The tip of Argenti’s tongue licks at your clit, drinking in the juices that coat your cunt in a shiny layer. He hums into your clit, tongue swirling around the engorged bud.

“Do you have to fiddling hog her? Dang voice restriction!” Boothill grunts, shoving Argenti’s head out the way.

Boothill eagerly laps at your cunt, leaving no area unexplored. You moan, plucking his hat off his head.

“Serves you right, learn your lesson, you can’t keep cussing in front of children” Argenti chuckles, pinching at your nipples.

Boothill grumbles, it sounded muffled since his head was buried in your cunt. His cold hands grab at your thighs, squeezing the chub.

“Boothill!” You whine, his tongue plunging in your clenching hole.

A sharp stung could be felt on your thigh, Boothill chuckling when you glared down at him.

“Just marking what’s mine” Boothill teases, continuing to lap at your cunt.

Argenti trails kisses back down, spreading your thighs wider. His tongue slowly rubs at your clit while Boothill’s tongue plunges in and out of your soaked hole.

The wet sounds fill the room, the occasional groans from Boothill when you pull at his hair. Argenti pulls from your clit, his fingers pressing on the bud.

“Good girl, cum for us” Argenti says, his fingers rubbing at your clit fastly.

You tense up, throwing your head back. You tense up, drenching Boothill’s face with your cum.

“There you go~ so good for us, my sweet” Argenti says, rubbing spare hair from your eyes.

“I wanna watch a movie” Boothill grins, acting like his lower half of his face isn’t soaked in your juices.

He sits beside you, his tongue licking most of your juices from his face. Your face goes bright red in embarrassment.

These idiots just ate you out and now they want to watch a movie?! Argenti grabs at the remote, putting one a cheesy romance movie.

“This reminds me of us” Argenti says, pointing at a scene where two guys are fighting over the lady.

She looked so tired of their shit, like she was about to smack the shit out of their head. It was honestly so funny, you snickering when the two guys in the movie let out a pained cry when she smacks their head and scolds them.

“Boring! Let’s watch a cowboy movie, right sugar?” Boothill asks, looking over to you with a cocky grin.

“Don’t you dare” you warn, a disgusted look on your face.

“You love riding cowboys? Especially metal ones, right?” Boothill says, laughing hard when you shriek and hit his head, even Argenti laughs.

You wonder if that woman in the movie was you in another universe, she seemed to have the same reaction as you.

Taglist: @sidhion @ihatelifesm @sneakylilbartender @missingtophat

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bluexiao · 2 years

Text

#there for you

—when they walk in on someone else being mean to you

CHARACTERS. Albedo, Ayato, Childe, Cyno, Diluc, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Thoma, Venti, Xiao, Zhongli; gn! Reader

THEMES. hurt/comfort; angst to fluff?; some might’ve been unintentional crack, honestly

WARNINGS. may have themes of verbal and emotional ab*se; them being protective; scara showing his authority; toxic family in ayato’s part

NOTES. this is a request from an anon and it got pushed back a lot of times, so glad i got to post it now finally hahah

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

ZHONGLI knew the wicked ways of both mortals and gods—all the good things and the bad things that had happened throughout the millennia, he had seen them all. With this in mind, this is nothing new, actually, such a situation unfolding like this in front of him is not out of the ordinary at all. And yet…

“What is the meaning behind this?”

When he came right next to you, everyone stopped talking, holding their breath as a heavy pressure fell upon the air almost too suddenly—or maybe it had been a while since the pressure had been like this but they only noticed it when someone else joins in, which is what happened—but in reality, they did not see what is coming upon them, nor had they realized that the pressure his presence held came from an identity they did knew but do not see in him.

“Ah, Mr. Zhongli, you see-“

“My words are not directed to you, Mr. Zhang.” His voice was firm, and so was his gaze, but as they turned to you, relief washed over you almost instantly. “Darling, would you care to explain the situation to me?”

No matter what other people say, he would listen to you. He knows you more and trusts you all the same. As much, as he could see the way you tried to hold yourself up, he couldn’t handle also seeing you stress over something that someone else caused you out of just a very simple thing—and after confirming things through, he’ll do his best to solve it—of course, mostly in your favor.

At the end of it all, he will be taking you out for fresh air and making sure you were feeling better after such a stressful experience.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

XIAO had been through a lot of pain. For him, this suffering is meant for him, something that he thinks that no one else should experience but him—as he very much deserved it—this kind of pain… he can handle them all.

And you—especially you—are one of those who he did not wish to bring up the same kind of pain he had experienced. No matter what.

Xiao is a natural protector, and it is why it took all of him to control himself. His fists were balled tight and his eyes pierced through everyone in the area. He stood tall, right in front of you, between you and the person that was still glaring right at you.

“Walk off, human.” He sneers. Just as he was about to call his weapon, he could feel your hand on his wrist, your touch waking him up from the momentary blur he felt. Despite still feeling tensed, he instinctively takes your hand to his and holds it tight—yet not too much, just enough to make you feel assured that he was there—and he’s there for you.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

VENTI is the embodiment of freedom and was the hope of people from then, and even until now, they praise his name in the midst of their success and pray in the midst of their suffering. He can hear them all, even if it can sometimes be overwhelming, it is something he had been used to as he had lived long enough to endure it.

When he heard your voice tremble with the mention of his name, he knew, and he was there in an instant that it surprised the people how fast it had gotten for him to rush your way.

“Venti!”

“Y/n!”

Far too many times, he was the one rushing to your arms, but at times that it was you, he just knew that there is indeed something wrong.

“Why? What is happening, love?” He hadn’t even realized that there are other people with the two of you until you looked away and he felt their presence all of a sudden, looking around and meeting their judgemental eyes.

“You’ve hung around this bard for far too long, Y/n, his way had gotten to you, huh?”

Venti rarely gets mad—like mad mad, he really doesn’t—you’ve never seen him. Yet today, not even putting the pieces altogether before reacting, a flame grew inside of him that he had never intensely felt before—maybe he did, well, he certainly did, but it was all so foreign and he just… erupts.

“Excuse me, I don’t think you should be doing this.”

“Hm? And what business do you even have here, bard? Who are you to interfere?”

You could see your boyfriend bite his lip, you could almost feel the suppression of his anger that you had to wrap your hand on his wrist, yet he doesn’t back down.

“If you knew who I am, you wouldn’t even be standing in front of me at this very moment.” You should be kneeling.

The thought scared him—how he could just break at any moment and all of that is because of you.

Then he forces out a grin—you could tell it was fake though—“I’m Y/n’s boyfriend. Of course, it’ll be my business as well.”

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

THOMA always knows what to do when there are disputes—it’s his job! Of course, he can handle them! But wait… isn’t that… you?

“What is happening here?” He came without any other hesitation, making sure to place himself in between you and the vendor that was yelling at your face. It is very rare for people to see him mad—mostly serious, but not to the point he would be furrowing his brows and frowning his lips—and it would seem this would be one of those times.

“Love… do you want me to handle this for you?”

Whatever your answer will be, he will be by your side—if you need assistance, just send him a glance or a squeeze of his hand, he’s there. He’s very observant, so he knows very well how to respond properly and fit upon your comfort—actually, at this point of time, this will be what he will be prioritizing he will do his best to bring the situation where you’re the most comfortable or pleased with.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

“The nerve! You dare to do this right in front of me?!”

SCARAMOUCHE’s voice was heard all over the area, and by then, each of the Fatui members knew what that tone indicated very well. (Someone’s going to suffer that day)

He glares down at the said person and almost kicks them, only for him to feel you grab him by his arm, catching his attention for you to shake your head no to him.

“Are you telling me to spare this piece of trash when—” he cuts himself off and pauses before breathing out a heavy sigh, looking away.

He can’t just ignore you when you’re giving him that look.

“You’re lucky.” He mutters while he glares at the person who had hurt you. He then turns away and pulls you close to him, making you follow suit.

He gestures his hands towards his subordinates, to which they silently made their way to the person, bringing them away… and maybe for them to await his final judgement.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

KAZUHA is away for most of the time. At first, this was something that he thought would work out—even distance could not break whatever you and he have, that is something he is very much sure of. But there are times when he did not have a choice and had to leave.

And his instincts from the start were not proven wrong.

He had just arrived from his current travel to Mondstadt when you weren’t on the docks—he did send you a letter beforehand for you to be informed that he will be returning soon, were you unable to receive it? You’ve always received his letters in the past, what could’ve changed?

There was an uncertain beat in his chest as if being able to smell the faint scent of danger in the wind.

And he was right this time as well.

“I believe we must discuss this in a calm manner.”

“What do you mean? And who are you? Mind your own business!”

You tried to stop Kazuha from trying to get in between you and the vendor, but he merely looked back at you and gave you a smile, as if assuring you that everything is going to be okay.

But will it be?

As if sensing your worry, he reaches out for your hand and squeezes them gently.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

KAEYA had met a lot of people and observed just as much. One thing he learned from all of these is how to predict people—and this he expected, and he was glad he did before anything else had happened without him there.

“This is not how you’d like to treat others, sir.” He’d try to coax them into shifting their attention to him, and once they did, he will be rather… harsh with them.

“Oh believe me… it is my business,” he’d smirk shifting his eye to you, sending you a brief look before averting them back to the other person, attempting to intimidate him further, “you see, if you don’t know me too well, I am the Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius. Seeing my own lover stuck in an unfortunate and unfair situation like this…” he shrugs, “it bothers me quite a lot.”

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

ITTO does not tolerate any sort of unfairness, not for those who he even does not know well, but more so when it comes to his own loved ones—especially you.

Although even if he does try to defend you, in the end, you’ll be left worrying for him because he might be the one ending up in jail because he’s being loud and looking like he’s instigating a fight. If the Tenryou Commission sees you like this…

“Hun! I don’t understand!” He whines, “Why in the world are we running right now?”

“Because!” You heaved out a frustrated groan, “the moment the Tenryou Commission hears that you’re causing a scene, who knows what will happen! Just trust me, okay?!”

It was exhausting running like that but… well, he did defend you from that man that tried to instigate you were in the wrong earlier, so you might as well just reward him with cuddles later.

But maybe after getting away from Narukami Island in the meantime.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

HEIZOU is good at sensing something before anything ever happens. But this. This happens so suddenly, almost like a blink of an eye, and it took him by surprise.

“Hey you! Y/n’s in trouble, you should go and check it out.”

Those were Kujou Sara’s words and when he heard them, he could see the worry in her eyes, and how she wanted him to judge the situation himself.

He was… conflicted.

Of course, he would be biased over you. Just seeing you being shouted at by someone else makes his blood boil and want to hurry and charge the other person with anything.

But of course… he has to keep it cool.

“I see… so that is the case…” he nods and keeps the slyness in his voice, but he was making sure that he was in between you and the other person, keeping up a front before momentarily sending a wink your way.

And maybe he can charge them with... something that would not let them out of jail any time soon.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

GOROU was quite taken aback. For one, he had never expected that there would be anyone complaining about you, all the more, he does not know what to do, especially when it comes to you.

“From how I’ve known Y/n, this is not what they’re like-“

“General Gorou! Aren’t you supposed to judge us fairly? How can you judge us fairly when they are your lover!”

He bites at his lower lip, chewing them as he ponders. And worries.

“Ah! You guys! How could you say that to the general! For all we know, you’re the ones being unfair to the general’s lover!” The other soldiers began to join in, “And besides, Y/n is known for being kind and sweet, the general wouldn’t have fallen for them if they are bad! Clearly, you’re the ones that are lying!”

“How did you even know? We didn’t even know you were acquainted with the general’s lover!” Says the other side.

Gorou would’ve silenced everyone else, but he stiffens when someone else adds on;

“Well, the general often gushes about their kindness and sweetness, let’s not distrust the general like that!”

It wasn’t enough that almost all the soldiers knew about his “gushing” towards his own lover… but you had to hear it too as you were standing right in front of him.

And as if you weren’t just in the middle of a difficult situation, you send him a look, one that had him looking away in embarrassment.

Ah, he is definitely gushing over you right now.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

DILUC is quite protective, of the people of Mondstadt and of course of those who are a part of his “family”—which includes his employees in Angel’s share and you, of course.

“Have you no shame? This is not the right place for you to quarrel about these things.”

“What business do you have–Mr. Ragnvindr?!”

Diluc raises a brow and continues to do so as the other person tried to explain his side and acted as if he was the one on the right, “This… Y/n over here-”

“Stop right there,” his glare intensifies—how dare this man to speak your name in such a harsh manner? If only he could burn this man even for a little— “I will not tolerate any lies that are spoken about my significant other. I’ll personally investigate about this and if I ever find you at fault in any way,” he pauses, his eyes gleaming, “I’ll hand you over to the Knights of Favonius myself. Or would you prefer in front of monsters in the middle of the wild?”

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

CYNO has never been in a situation like this before—maybe a few times, but not to the point that he got emotionally invested in it which momentarily took his clear thinking away.

“What is the meaning of this? Have you lost your mind?” He glares at everyone—but really, he’s not mad at you.

“Yelling inside the akademia grounds. This is not the right place and tme for you to be shameless.>:

Ah, you think, he is definitely mad.

Yet why is he making his way over you? Is he perhaps mad at you?

He tugs you over to his side and you could only watch as he proceeds to nag at them, scolding them with his arms crossed over his chest and looking down at them.

Maybe… he isn’t mad at you.

He definitely isn’t.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

CHILDE is highly protective of his family. And of course, that includes you.

“I believe we can discuss this calmly, don’t you think… sir?” he tried to use his charm first—of course, he couldn’t start a fight when everyone is here to witness his every move.

But of course, his patience is not that big either, especially when it comes to you. How dare this guy to bully you like this? Isn’t it understandable if he begins to show his anger at this point?

Well, reputations be damned.

“Actually, why don’t we talk about this… privately?” he flashes a sweet smile—but you recognized it in an instant.

He’s definitely not leaning into the other person and whispering something next to his ear, only for the other to flash a horrified look—what did Childe say?

Well, you’re not even curious at this point…

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

AYATO was raised in a good family, one that he continues to uphold even to his work—his surname is his work, and that was enough to describe him as a Yashiro Commissioner.

“Stop what you are doing right this instant.”

“Who are you to say this? They are my child.”

“But they are not a child anymore.”

You could tell that the pressure in the atmosphere was already beginning to thicken every second that passed.

“Y/n,” he turns to you, but his grim face drastically changes and molds into one with a reassuring smile, “darling, shall we go?” He offers his hand, and you were about to take it when-

“Hey, you! You can’t go! We’re not yet done talking-!”

Instinctively, you took his hand and he instantly pulls you to his side.

Anything else didn’t matter to you at this point, because with him by your side, you felt at peace and safer than the other days of your life.

┌───────── · · · · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

ALBEDO is not someone who gets “feelings” on the way of solving problems.

He definitely isn’t, but he would do anything to defend you—well, isn’t it logical to do anything for someone you love?

“Oh? You must be the genius alchemist!”

When the other person deliberately ignored you after shouting and scolding you for the longest time before he had the chance to go over to your side. Yet before he can even get the gist of what was happening, the other person starts to… try to humiliate you in front of him.

“Hm… Is that so?”

He even has the nerve to act like he was pondering over something.

“How about you, sweetheart? Do you have anything to say?” you could see the surprise in the other person’s face, most likely realizing something.

“Sweetheart…?”

“Well, it’s not like I will side with you or anything… mister…? I don’t even know your name. Pardon me.” Albedo smiles—a taunting one, you could tell.

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all-alone-he-turns-to-stone · 3 months

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The Most Innocent Sinner

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Summary: For everyone, she's the shy, pure, little Y/n. Dating Dean Winchester is like going on dates with the complete opposite of her. So it is a very nice surprise when Dean learns how kinky she actually is by finding her collection of sex toys.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Content warning: Sex toys, masturbation (male and female), dirty talk

Square filled: Dildos for @spnkinkevents / “Now that’s something you definitely shouldn’t try at home.” for @jacklesversebingo / masturbation for @anyfandomkinkbingo / “Unfortunately, I’m turned on by that.” for @anyfandomgoesbingo

A/n: Finding a title is so hard. I got stuck on this one for way too long. Big thanks to my friends that helped me!

From the outside, Y/n looked like a Saint. Cute, she wasn't very tall and almost sickly shy, and her social anxiety didn't help her case at all.

Since she didn’t have many friends, Y/n spent her time at the library surrounded by stories that made her forget how alone she felt. The characters on these yellowed sheets would never judge or criticize her, it was a comfort in which she really liked to immerse herself, especially after a hard day.

It was also where she met the Winchester brothers for the first time.

For someone like Y/n, the complete opposite of popular, invisible to people even when she was in the same room with them, the Winchesters were the pinnacle of perfection. Bodies built like gods, well-defined faces, piercing eyes, they gave off a strong and dominating aura that attracted the gaze of everyone in their path. And Y/n was no exception.

The moment the two brothers walked near her table at the library, there was no longer any need to read. Her book closed by itself in front of her, as she no longer held it open, her eyes fixedly stuck on the two men. Following their directions with her gaze, she turned her head, almost hurting her neck.

The colors around her suddenly seemed more vivid. The sounds, sweeter to the ear. She strained her ear to better listen to their conversations. And it was then that the stories she loved reading so much... Became reality.

Y/n had always had a habit of making herself fade away. Not wanting to attract attention, remaining discreet and making herself as small as possible. But the moment she saw them, it was like a light bulb went on inside her, and filled her with a life she had never really felt. And she decided to change that.

She didn’t want to hide anymore.

It was an adventure awaiting her, just like in her books. Filled with villains, monsters, but also angels, laughter, food and finally, a place where she belonged. It didn't take long for her to take part in their lives, quickly becoming a full member of their families. Although she wasn’t trained to be in the field hunting monsters, her lifelong experience of extensive reading was too vital and important to refuse her help.

Initially, Y/n was assigned to research. It was perfect for her, she could show them how efficient she was at this task so they would give her more to do eventually. Quickly, she climbed the ranks in the Winchesters' trust and became closer to them.

Everything about her personality was perfect to fit with Sam's. And yet, as the months stretched into years, she inevitably grew closer to Dean. Some will say that opposites flock together, and they are not wrong. Dean was the opposite of Y/n, stubborn, he didn't hesitate to say what was on his mind and loved seeing the adorable expression that invaded her face when he made inappropriate or worse, sexual comments. Immediately, Y/n would disappear from the room almost like magic, or she would become so embarrassed that he took pity and immediately changed the subject.

Y/n had a purity that Dean never had, and it was one of the reasons why even after all this time knowing her, he was still reluctant to let her come with them on hunts. Or even to involve her in anything that could endanger her or defile this purity. If he could keep her from losing that sparkle in her eyes, he would, no matter the cost.

After a few months of dating, Y/n finally agreed to live in the bunker with them. Dean helped her move in, putting her things in a room other than his, and although not sharing the same bed disappointed him a little, he understood why. She wasn't ready, and he insisted on her comfort. He was willing to wait for her as long as it took.

“If I had known you had that many boxes, I would have brought in extra hands,” Dean huffed, placing yet another heavy box on the ground. Straightening up, he raised his arms above his head to stretch his back.

“Sorry, all my books,” Y/n shrugged and lowered her head, embarrassed.

With a quick wave of his hand, Dean signaled that it was nothing. “It only takes a little longer but it’s no problem,” he quickly said to reassure her, so she wouldn’t feel bad about having so much stuff. After all this time knowing her, he knew how important her books were to her.

Her 500 books which weighed bricks to transport…

“I'll go get another box,” she accepted Dean's answer and as she passed him on her way out, left a quick kiss on the cheek. It was Dean's turn to react, his face quickly turning red.

“Okay, in the meantime, I'm going to start…” Glancing at the mountain of cardboard, Dean sighed again. “Cleaning a little…”

Sam wasn't there. Although he proposed his help for moving her stuff in, Dean's ego was more powerful. As a boyfriend, he had to take care of his girlfriend himself. Without help. Showing her that he was there for her, and that she would always be his priority.

Dean had been in several relationships in the past. And he loved each woman with all of his soul. But each time, his work, his family or the apocalypse had forced him to leave. It had been a very difficult task each time, but he had done it.

Just the thought of leaving Y/n had the same effect as losing a limb. It was unthinkable.

Ah shit. He was in love.

Him, in love?

It was the first time.

… Wait a minute.

He was in love with her.

This realization hit him harder than he expected. Dean took a few steps back, his head spinning quickly. He was in love. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Never in his entire life had he felt this kind of thing for someone, feelings so strong, so true. When they were together, he felt so good, like he had finally found the thing he was missing. The person he needed.

Dean took another step back, and inevitably, his legs encountered a box. He lost his balance and, trying not to cause a landslide, had to hold himself against the nearest thing… Another box.

This one was strangely and unfortunately lighter than the others and failed to stop him from doing damage. Luckily, Dean kept his balance and avoided the embarrassment of falling on his butt, but the box fell to the ground.

“Son of a bitch,” he grumbled as he hurried to pick it up. As he took it, he noticed that it was not closed properly. It was definitely not his plan to go through Y/n's personal belongings, but when he opened the box to close it better, he couldn't help but see what was inside.

And it wasn't his fault. The first item on top was a box that displayed the inscription of its contents, and his curiosity, well… took care of the rest.

“What the…” taking the item in question, Dean examined it. His hunter's eye detected every detail, inscriptions, the wear on the cardboard and even the place where the packaging had once been sealed before opening. The sticky paper seemed to have been removed so quickly, the color of the cardboard remained stuck on it. It was exactly as if its owner, eager to have the object, hadn’t been concerned by the breakage of its packaging.

SO. It was still possible that the contents were not what was written in black and white on the packaging. It was still a possibility. Dean understood, it was his duty to get to the bottom of it once and for all. Otherwise, the question would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Heart racing for no good reason, Dean placed his fingers where the paper was torn off and pulled the tab. Then, breathless, he opened the box and peered inside.

“Son of a bitch,” his mouth breathed along with the last of his oxygen. No... he couldn't believe it. As if he needed further proof that his eyes had already given him, Dean reached into the box and pulled out the object.

It was still in its bag, but an opening proved its frequent use. Both soft and very hard, it was of regular size and of a pretty pink shade. Dean didn't need to take it out of the bag to know that underneath was the little hole to get charged, the wire still in the box.

In his hand, Dean held the thing he never thought he would hold… Let alone find among his girlfriend's stuff. The sweet, pure, shy Y/n.

Scared that she would come back and see him like this, Dean quickly put the pink dildo vibrator back in its box. A thousand questions swirled through his mind and his heart still hadn't stopped pounding in his ribcage. In his eagerness and nervousness, Dean almost dropped the box, so he had to pull himself together to put it back exactly where he had found it.

And that was when he saw them.

There were plenty of them. A dozen even. Some had their original packaging, others had boxes without inscription. Curiosity rose in Dean who forgot the presence of his girlfriend and owner of these toys in the bunker. It was like suddenly he was alone in the world as he began to pull out everything he had in front of his eyes, his pupils dilating with each new discovery.

Small portable vibrator. One that looked like a butterfly, insertable and vibrant. A… dolphin? A flesh-colored dildo, including ball and base with suction. A magic staff. Purple, pink, black, the colors were added one after the other. And then suddenly...

Dean came across the largest box.

It was curiously and surprisingly big for what was inside. Dean couldn't help it. It was heavy, there was no doubt about the contents, but he had to see it with his eyes, hold it in his hands, and absorb reality.

It couldn't be that big... right?

And oh my god.

“Now that’s something you definitely shouldn’t try at home…”

Examining it from every angle, he still couldn't understand. The words “bad dragon” were forever imprinted in his brain along with the image of that purple and blue hued dildo. It was imposing, as tall as it was wide, and the different textures were strange but pleasant to the touch. And inevitably, his brain went in that perverse direction he imagined...

Her moans filled the room and the echo was carried throughout the whole bunker. Sounds of pleasure? No. Of frustration. She moaned as she tried as best she could to get the dildo into her entrance, which was still too tight for such a monster. But her determination only grew with her goal, and the idea alone of being able to have all those inches inside her was so exciting that she almost didn't need any lube.

“Oh fuck,” breathed through her lips as the head of the toy finally pierced the breach. Her head tilting back, she wiggled on the dildo to widen her entrance to accommodate the rest. Kneeling over the toy made it easier for her to maneuver her body and part her lips for guidance. And when finally the dildo was inside her, a long sigh of relief mixed with the pleasure of having succeeded hissed between her lips.

“I love the view…”

Dean hadn't missed a single thing. Standing in the doorway, he watched, admired, and nourished himself with the magnificent view before him. Kneeling on the bed facing him, she knew he was there. Even though her eyes were closed, she felt his presence, heard his heavy breathing. And then there was the rustling of his clothes every time he adjusted his position or reached for his swollen crotch.

It was one of the hottest things she had ever experienced. The desire was so strong it was palpable. The smell of sex filled the room. A moan passed her lips as she opened her eyes to look at him, her breath leaving her lungs, making the air almost unbreathable because it was so saturated.

"Oh. No."

The sound of a heavy object hitting the ground brought him back to consciousness. Then it took him several seconds to realize the voice that had spoken just before the impact, what it had said and who it belonged to. Turning towards the door, Dean's eyes were wide open, the green almost disappearing from his irises because his pupils were so dilated.

Her face was not in any better condition. As her eyes, wide with fear and shame, moved between what he was holding and the box behind him and finally settling on him, Dean could see the embarrassment quickly filling her being.

“What is this?”

Still shocked by his discovery and what it implied, these words were the first and only ones that had managed to escape his lips. Obviously, he knew what it was, and what it was for. However, he needed to hear it from her mouth. To confirm what his eyes had already understood.

His question only made her more uncomfortable.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” she muttered under her breath, lowering her head and crossing the distance between them to grab the dildo and remove it from the hunter’s hands. All this to hide the evidence that had already been consumed, unfortunately. “Please, forget about it,” she pleaded, still refusing to meet his gaze. Her hand resting next to Dean's on the dildo, she tried to take it back, but was surprised to see that he didn't want to let it go. “Dean?”

“It’s impossible,” his voice was low, almost a breath lost in the tension of the air. “Unfortunately… I’m turned on by that. And here I thought you were all pure and shy…” Taking a pause in his words only made the state Y/n was in worse. Next to Dean, she felt his breath against her cheek, and the heat of his body. It was heavy, his chest moving in time with his harsh breathing. As if he had to do everything to hold back. “I waited for you to be ready, and I'll still wait but… Y/n…” As she still refused to raise her head and meet his gaze, Dean took his other hand, the one that wasn't holding the dildo, to gently lift Y/n’s chin. “Thinking about you touching yourself with that… oh fuck, it’s hot, sweetheart.”

“Yeah?” A shy smile appeared on her lips, her eyes watering at how she was embarrassed but still... Very excited by this idea.

“Oh yeah,” Dean swallowed, his green eyes darting from Y/n's lips to her eyes, then back to her lips. Like two magnets held too far apart, but at the same time too close, it was inevitable.

Dean pressed his mouth to Y/n’s, kissing her forcefully. The dildo was quickly put aside, both needing their hands to touch the other. Dean placed his on Y/n's waist, and her around his neck. Her nails scratched the soft part of his neck, leaving red marks he would never see. It was intense, they almost devoured each other with an insatiable appetite. Opening her lips, Y/n stuck her tongue out barely, just enough to give access to Dean who was quick to push his tongue into her mouth. The kiss became languorous, messy, even, and Y/n backed into a box and almost fell. Dean broke the kiss to ask if she was okay, but she silenced him by replacing her lips on his to continue the kiss.

Their mouths didn't leave each other as clothes flew around the room, some getting stuck on boxes while others fell to the floor. Eventually, they managed to maneuver through the mountains of boxes to get to the bed. Y/n plopped down on the mattress and laughed against Dean’s mouth which only took a second to find its way back to hers. Now both were shirtless and their hands explored each other without stopping.

Finally, Y/n broke the kiss to speak.

“I want you to watch me.”

“What?” Dean was panting, his erection so painful in his pants he was afraid it would explode at the slightest touch. Like a hungry lion demanding its prey, he tried to grab Y/n's lips but she refused him access by placing her fingers between them.

“I want you to watch me use the toy…” If she was an angel a few moments ago, the Y/n he had, lying under him on the bed, half naked, was a little devil hidden under the appearance of a Saint.

Just the thought of seeing her in real life masturbating with the monster he had found made Dean gulp and push himself up so he was on his knees. His face was so red, he had trouble understanding how there could still be blood in his length.

“Are you sure? I mean, I… I can’t say no to that, fuck, but… I don’t want you to feel forced or…”

“Dean,” she interrupted, a smile tugging at her lips. “I really want to. And I know you want it too.” Y/n took a deep, slightly shaky breath before continuing. “So… Bring me the one you want me to use… And get comfortable.”

Dean swallowed and looked at his girlfriend's face. Since he had known her, they had never been this far in their intimacy. And he would never have imagined that she had this in her. Obviously he was surprised, but it was a very pleasant surprise. Like an excited child on Christmas morning, Dean rushed to the box of adult toys and once again admired all the choices presented to him. Each of them infused an image, each more erotic than the other, into his mind. For a moment, he hesitated to take the monster he had found shortly before, but decided that for now, this view was better in his mind. And he didn't want to embarrass Y/n even more than she was, what she was proposing was very intimate, very sexy, but also terribly hard to do. To open up like this, to show yourself like this...

Dean returned to his girlfriend, a box in hand. “This one,” he held out the box, knowing full well what it contained. Y/n took it, hesitated for a few seconds while staring at it in her hands. Just as Dean was about to repeat that she didn't have to, that they could continue to just makeout and that was okay, she opened the box and took out the toy.

It was a simple one. No vibration, just a flesh colored dildo with suction at the bottom. It wasn’t the biggest she owned, but it was still big, almost as big as Dean’s cock. So to see her use this, he could easily picture him in her…

Just the thought sent another wave of arousal down his pants.

“Do you need a moment, or lube or…” Dean was still standing up near the bed as she was on her knees on the mattress. For the first time, he was clueless and didn't know what to do. And yet, it was not his first time, nor the last, that he had more kinky moments with his partner. But Y/n was different, she wasn't just his sexual partner, but the woman he loved. And the prospect of getting even closer and more intimate was worth more than any sex he could have.

“I want you to watch the whole thing,” Y/n replied, lifting her ass off the mattress just enough to undo her pants and pull them down along with her panties with just one hand. In an almost expert manner, she finished undressing herself with one hand, her other never letting go of the toy. “You can sit down, you know,” she laughed when she saw Dean still standing where he was, stiff as a stick.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he sat on the edge of the bed and turned his body towards her. It was like he was back at 15 with the most popular girl in school, ready for his first time. Nervousness filled his entire being, along with excitement, and if he wasn't so experienced years later, his erection would have disappeared or he would have come prematurely in his pants.

Dean silently thanked all the girls he had in the past that strengthened his stamina.

“How do you want me to use it?”

Dean could see how nervous she was. It was the first time she was completely naked in front of him, and her body was shaking ever so slightly, shivers that covered her soft skin in goosebumps. But yet, through that nervousness, she was freaking sexy. Still kneeling, she was slowly stroking her intimacy with the toy, coating it with her wetness. And without asking, Dean knew she wouldn’t need any lube.

“Just… Like this, you can ride it…” The words got out of his mouth by automatism. Truth was, Dean was half there now, so excited and focused on her, a part of his mind was shut down. It was so hot, he couldn’t detach his eyes from her body, the way the toy rubbed through her lower lips, how her hips rocked back on it, and her face, so soft, so cute, so embarrassed… With eyes burning in a strong passion.

“Okay,” she whispered. Time seemed to slow down. Dean could feel his heart beating in his head and in his crotch, the intensity growing with each movement she made. Straightening up, she placed the dildo behind her, careful to align it with her entrance, and opened up her legs to let Dean continue watching.

And he could see it all.

It was better than everything he could ever imagine.

The toy was big, but she was probably very wet and very used to it, because it didn’t take long for her to lower down on it. Inch by inch, the dildo disappeared into her entrance until it was almost completely gone. Her body was bent back, her chest glistening with sweat and the cutest moan left her lips.

“Fuck,” Dean groaned. It was too much, so he rushed to open his pants, just enough to free his aching cock. The simple touch sent thousands of electrical shocks of pleasure through his body, but still, his eyes were fixed on her. “You’re so hot, I don’t think I’ll last long,” he held the base of his cock stronger to avoid his climax.

“I don’t think I’ll last long either,” she whimpered. She had started moving already, slowly, up and down on the toy. Since she was on the bed, the succion was useless and she had to hold it with one hand. Dean could see how wet she was on the dildo, and imagined how warm it had to be inside.

Another groan whistled through his teeth.

“Hmmm,” she moaned, picking up speed. “It feels so good… Dean… Look at me…”

He didn’t notice, but his gaze was so focused on the toy and her pussy, he didn’t even look at her face. Blinking hard, he looked up, and when he saw her face, twisted in pleasure, he couldn’t help it.

His hand started moving on his cock at the same rhythm as her.

“Can’t wait to be inside of you,” Dean muttered through his rashing breath. “Must feel so warm in there, and you’re so wet, fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me.”

As an answer, she moaned and closed her eyes for a second. But quickly, she set her gaze on him again, even if it had to be the most embarrassing thing she ever did. She wanted to watch him watch her, watch him stroke his cock, watch him cum with her. “Soon… I promise, soon, you’ll have me, you’ll fuck me as much as you want, whenever you want… I'm ah... All yours, Dean..."

"Y/n." Dean could only say that. Again and again, moaning her name as she continued moving on the toy. "Y/n..."

"Dean, I’m gonna cum, oh my god, I’m…”

It was stronger than her. Never before did she come with only a dildo in her, it always took her hands or a vibrator on her clit to reach the end. But right now, in front of her boyfriend masturbating with her, it was too much. It felt so good.

In an explosion of pleasure, her orgasm ripped through her in a scream. She closed her eyes, her body shaking, her wetness flooding under her and on her bed. But she so didn’t care about this right now.

It took a few moments for her to regain her hearing back, and a few more moments to open her eyes. It was strong, and she suddenly felt so tired, like the world came crashing back on her. Feeling like she could sleep for a whole day without waking up.

Y/n landed her eyes on the man in front of her. Dean had his head bent back, eyes closed, mouth parted. Lower, his cock was still a bit hard, and his release was covering his hand.

“Oh,” she said sadly, realizing she didn’t see him cum. At least, they came together.

“Oh,” Dean repeated, finally opening his eyes to land them on her. “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen and done,” he admitted, a silly smile filling up his face. So he was too, drunk on pleasure.

“Yeah,” she admitted, feeling her face flush with embarrassment. Wow. They did it. They actually did it. Her joy, thought, left her face quickly as she realized something. “Fuck.”

“What is it?” Dean immediately went on protective boyfriend mode when he heard the change in her voice.

“I think I…” Y/n’s voice was small, so small and shy as she lifted herself from the spot she was in, removing carefully the dildo from her, and looked at the mess she made. “It never happened before, but now my bed… I don’t think I can use it anymore… Oh no…”

“Sweetheart,” Dean rushed to her side, quickly putting himself back in his pants even if he was messy with his release as well. “It’s alright. There’s plenty of other room in the bunker, with other beds.”

“But,” she stammered, her gaze looking down at her hands. “What if I want to… Use your bed, with you?”

Y/n ended up looking up at him, their gaze meeting.

A soft kiss on her lips answered her question, and all of her insecurities washed away.

“My bed is yours, sweetheart. We can always use this room for your books, I’ll ask Sam to help building shelves and-”

Another kiss, this time, more powerful, interrupted his sentence. “God, I love you so much.”

Babum.

The words he never said back before.

Dean thought they would be hard to say. Impossible, even. But he surprised himself with how easy it actually was.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @eevvvaa @wickedinspirations@fictional-affairs @awkward-and-indecisive @peachyaliien @katbratsupernaturalwhore

Supernatural Tag List: @peachyaliien @sexyvixen7 @stixnstripesworld @charred-angelwings @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @lyarr24 @fiftyshadesgrl @this-is-me19

Dean Winchester Tag List: @akshi8278 @kazsrm67 @wtrpxrks @deanwanddamons @thoughts-and-funnies @charred-angelwings @jensendreamland @deanswaywardgirl @happyt0exist @waynes-multiverse @djs8891 @mimaria420 @this-is-me1 @syrma-sensei

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xrollingmyeyesx · 1 year

Text

Innocence Part 1

Pairing: Neteyam x fem!Metkayina Reader. Reader is 19, Neteyam is 23.

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Olo’eyktan Tonowari you live a very sheltered life. When the Sullys arrive on Awa’atlu a certain son guides you to escape the bounds you’ve been kept in. But is everything as it seems?

Warnings: mature themes, suggestive language, heavy petting but doesn't go all the way, thigh riding???

word count: 6,993

Notes: This started out as fluff but...Stuff happened. Also, this is the first time I've ever tried writing, so pls point out any errors I need to fix. This might be too long? I didn't know how much was too much. Might write a part 2.

Part Two

As the youngest daughter of Olo’eyktan Tonowari, you have always been sheltered.

At first because you were the youngest, but then your partners began to notice how sensitive and vulnerable you were. You didn’t seem to have the same aggressiveness that most Metkayina were born with; You were soft where they were hard.

Your passiveness and trusting nature often got you hurt, sometimes physically and emotionally. You trusted other kids who would trick you into doing dangerous activities with the promise of being your friend. As you aged, other teens would befriend you to get to your more popular siblings, and your parents worried others would take advantage of you to gain favor with the chief.

So they protected you.

They did as much as they could to shelter you from the world, keeping you under close watch in the village. You were constantly watched and forced to have a chaperone, usually one of your siblings. As such, you were forced to spend most of your time with your family. They didn't let you leave the village unless it was to visit the Cove of the Ancestors or for clan ceremonies. You didn't go out and make friends, and you definitely weren't going on any dates. Your father and brother had all but banned any suitors from coming anywhere near you.

You thought you would be free after your iknimaya, after finally proving yourself as an adult. You were a woman now and you had hoped your parents would loosen their hold on you. Of course, Olo’eyktan Tonowari and Tsahik Ronal did not agree.

Overtime, sheltered away from the rest of the clan, you became lonely, You yearned for freedom from your caring but overbearing family.

You were lying on the beach daydreaming when the Sully family arrived.

The sound of the conch horn boomed across the island of Awa’atlu. You followed your sister, Tsireya, to the northern beach. The two of you took your place beside your family, your mother and father at the head. A small crowd had gathered.

“Uturu has been asked.”

The voice came from an Omatikayan woman holding the hand of a small girl. There were six of them, a family with four children.

They looked very different from you, and you eyed them curiously. They were darker than you, their skin a deep blue that resembled the night sky. Their tails were skinny with tufts of hair at the ends, and their eyes were a startling gold.

As usual, you became distracted easily, taking in every little detail about the foreigners in front of you. Your fathers voice faded into the background. It was hard to focus on him with the strange, piercing eyes of the oldest son focused directly on you.

He looked to be the oldest of the siblings, and he held himself with a strong air of confidence. He was tall, taller than his father even, and strong, with broad shoulders that narrowed into a muscled chest and a slim waist. He was lithe like one of your clans dancers, but had the confidence of a trained warrior. He had long hair braided back and a riding mask sat on his forehead.

He looked straight at you, as if he felt the same pull that had you wanting to reach out and touch him. It would be completely inappropriate to do that, but your fingers twitched at the urge.

The Omatikayan boy smiled at you, dipping his head forward slightly in acknowledgement. Your skin flushed.

Your brother, Aonung, huffed under his breath and stepped in front of you, blocking the other man's view.

He was such an ass sometimes, and way too protective. What could the other man possibly do to hurt you here, in the middle of your family and surrounded by your clan?

You pinched Aonung in the side, and he hissed at you sharply, smacking your hand away before he turned back to your father.

“My children, Aonung and Tsireya, will teach your children the way.” Your father announced. He then addressed the clan with an air of finality. “You will treat Toruk Makto and his family as your brothers and sisters. Teach them the way, so they do not suffer the shame of being useless.”

The man, Jake Sully, thanked your father before Tsireya ushered them away to their new home. You watched, enamored, as the son packed up his stuff and followed after his family, shooting you a quick glance over his shoulder.

“Y/n.”

You turned to your dad, hope bubbling inside you. “Dad? Do I get to help teach too?”

Tonowari gave you a hard but wary look. “No, these people are strangers and I do not trust them yet. I do not want you anywhere near those boys Y/n. Go home, I’m sure your mother could use your help.”

And just like that, your hope was crushed.

You rolled your eyes as you turned your back on him, your ears pinned back in irritation. You loved your dad, but sometimes he spoke to you like you were a soldier, like you were meant to do exactly as he said and never disobey. But that's exactly what you did, wasn't it? He and your mother told you what to do with your life, and you followed because it was what you had been doing for 21 years. You were so tired of everyone trying to “protect you” and telling you what to do. You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. But your dad would hear none of it.

“Yes, father.” You stomped home, pouting like the child they accused you of being.

You didn’t see the Sully kids again for a while.

They were busy with training and you were doing your best to obey your father and stay away. You avoided them at all costs and tried to ignore their presence, but the strange family had piqued your curiosity. You found yourself watching them from afar, especially the eldest son, Neteyam.

Tsireya would come home at the end of the day and tell you stories about her training with them. She tended to talk more about Lo’ak, but you devoured every bit of information you could get about his brother.

She told you that Neteyam was a warrior and a good hunter. She said he was protective of his sisters, and had an adorable relationship with the youngest, Tuktirey.

From the stories she told you, he sounded like a good person. A noble, caring man. It made no sense to you why your father was so adamant that you stay away from him.

A few weeks later, you sit on the beach with your mother as she discusses your healing lessons. You weave ropes of netting absentmindedly, humming under your breath and paying her little attention. You are the youngest in your family, the least likely to have any kind of leadership role, but still she insists on teaching you everything a Tsahik would need to know.

“Tsahik.” A harried voice calls from further down the beach. A man runs towards the pair of you, his chest heaving with effort. “Atexo has been injured in the hunt.”

Your mother straightens, eyeing the blood smeared on the man's shoulder. “Badly?”

He nods his head vigorously. “Very badly. He got caught in a swarm of hakora.”

Your mother sighs, glancing at you contemplatively. You are supposed to stay with her today, but you know she is hesitant to involve you when there are severe wounds. She thinks you are too delicate to handle such a violent scene.

She gives you a hard stare. “You will stay here, ma’ite. I will be back quickly.”

Surprise blossoms in your chest, and you do your best to keep it from showing on your face. She may not want you to see severe wounds or injuries, but she likes leaving you unchaperoned even less. But you won’t question her choice, not when it's the first bit of freedom you’ve had in a long time.

“I will be here.” You smile softly at your mother, and her eyes soften. Brushing sand off her legs, she follows the man towards the healing tents.

You’re not sure how long she’ll be gone, so you give up on weaving and sunbathe instead. You lay outstretched, your hands buried in the sand at your side. It’s warm, and you wiggling your fingers as you bask in the soft rays of the sun.

You sing to yourself as well, the soft melody of an old lullaby falling easily from your mouth. You’re about halfway through the song when a sense of awareness washes over you, your skin prickling in the warm sun. Your mother has returned much quicker than you anticipated.

“You sound amazing.” A deep, baritone voice says softly.

That is definitely not your mother.

You sit up quickly, fumbling as you attempt to turn and back away from the strange voice all in one go. You are in full defensive mode, reaching for the knife at your side, but relax when you see Neteyam.

He stands a few feet away, keen eyes taking you in. It’s in that moment that you realize that, for the first time in your life, you are alone with a man who is not family. You have no chaperone.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people.” Your voice is soft, and he tilts his head as if he can’t hear you.

Neteyam had seen you that first day on Awa’atlu and instantly thought you were beautiful. Your hair was long, almost to your waist, and curly, so different from his own. He had liked the way your eyes wandered over him. More than that, he liked the pretty blush that decorated your cheeks when he caught you. He had no intention of pursuing you when your father had so clearly declared you as off limits, but goading from his brother and a few other guys had encouraged him to seek you out.

After that first day, Neteyam had watched you as discreetly as he could. You never seemed to be alone, always with your mom or dad or a trusted healer. He was curious about the hidden Metkayina princess. It only piqued his curiosity more when he realized you had been watching him too. He had felt eyes on him more than once, and each time he would see you quickly dart out of sight.

“Y/n, right?” He steps closer to you, and you instinctively take a step back. “Please, sit. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Well. You glance back towards the healing tents, but there's no sign that your mother will be returning any soon. You sigh and sit back down in the warm sand. Neteyam follows, though he sits much closer than he needs to.

You fiddle with a shell in the sand, not quite knowing what to say. You feel nervous this close to him. You feel his eyes on you, those big yellow orbs watching you. The silence is incredibly awkward, and you have no idea what to say to him. He’s practically a stranger, and you don’t really hang around anyone but your family and their trusted friends.

“I am Neteyam.” He offers, giving you a small smile.

You turn your head to face him, and again are startled by those eyes. So strange, but kind of… nice? “I know.”

Neteyam grins, his sharp teeth bared at you like he thinks you said something funny. “I never see you around, and you don’t train with your brother and sister.”

He phrases it as a statement, but really he wants to know why you avoid his family. The pretty girl, who he’s been watching for the last 2 weeks, refuses to even acknowledge the Sullys. You even go as far as avoiding them at meal time.

“My parents want me to stay away from you,” You mumble. “My father thinks you will get me into trouble.”

He raises his eyebrows at you, and the surprised look on his face makes you wonder if you were supposed to say that or if it was some kind of secret.

“Get you in trouble? Why would I do that?” Neteyam tilts his head.

“Well, I'm not sure actually, but Aonung and Tsireya say you will ‘corrupt me.’” You don’t know what the phrase means, but it sounded bad. Aonung had drilled into your head that the Sully boys were nothing but trouble and would only put you in danger. He said they were violent and had become too used to war.

The laugh that spills out of Neteyam’s mouth startles you, and you peer at him, your face scrunched up. So far he doesn’t seem so bad, but he is very confusing.

Ah so this is what it’s about, Neteyam thinks to himself. You look at him with those big, innocent eyes, clearly not understanding the lewd undertones of the statement. He had originally thought you were shy, but from talking to you it seems as if you’re just very sheltered.

He leans into your space, his woodsy scent invading your senses. You inhale sharply, and let the scent settle in your lungs. You should back away, shouldn’t be so close to an unfamiliar man, but you can’t. He smells good, really good, and your heart beats frantically in your chest.

“And how will I corrupt you, Y/n?” His mouth quirks up, almost as if he knows something you don’t. Why was it that everyone seems to know more than you? He’s joking, clearly, but you have no idea what about. It always seems like you're one-step behind everyone else.

It’s hard to think with his eyes on you, and you can’t help the blush that spreads across your face. “I- I’m not sure.”

You go back to avoiding his eyes, fidgeting with your hands. You can feel the warmth from where his leg is almost touching yours, and fight the sudden urge to press your skin against his. Despite your shyness, he continues.

“I should tell you, I really came over here to see if you wanted to hangout? You seem lonely and I would love the company.” He taps your leg to get your attention, his hand warm against your skin. “Do you want to come with me? We could go out to one of the islands.”

You immediately want to say no, to tell him that you’re not allowed to leave the island without one of your family members, but a new thought crosses your mind.

Neteyam doesn’t know your parents' rules. He doesn’t know you aren't supposed to leave the village. You’ve always wanted to be able to explore on your own, and even more you want to keep talking to the handsome guy next to you.

Going with him is the perfect opportunity to get away, even if you might get into trouble later. You may never get this chance again, not with how strict your parents are, so you nod in agreement.

“Yes, please. I would like that.” Your heart races at the prospect of leaving, but it’s dampened a bit by guilt.

You know that lying and tricking him is wrong but your desire to get away is stronger. You’d always wanted to escape from your overbearing family but you’d be lying if you said that was the only reason you wanted to go.

Neteyam… everything about him calls to you. His smell, his smile. Maybe he was just charming and was always this kind to strangers, but something made you want to latch onto him and never let go. It helps that he seems pleased that you agreed to go.

Neteyam, always the gentleman, offers you his hand. “Come on.”

You hesitate for a second but then slide your hand into his much bigger hand. You expect him to let go after you’re standing, but he keeps hold of your hand as you walk towards the waiting ilu.

BREAK

You know how to ride an ilu, of course. Every Metkayina child learns to ride, but Neteyam still insists you sit in front of him “just in case.” You remember what your sister said about how he’s protective of his siblings. He’s protective in nature, so it makes sense for him to be protective of you too.

And Neteyam really does want to keep you safe, but he definitely has ulterior motives. Ever since he saw you laid out in the sun, he couldn’t get the images of you out of his head. You had looked ethereal then, splayed out in the sun like a tempting meal. You were curvy in all the right places. Muscular like all the Metkayina, but smaller than most too.

As the two of you glide through the water, Neteyam’s focus begins to shift from steering the ilu. He tries to pay attention but he’s hyper aware of all the places where your skin is touching his, particularly where his hand rests on the curve of your waist.

You’re so much smaller than him, and his one hand wraps nearly halfway around your waist. His mind wanders to other ways in which your size difference might matter, much more tempting ways, but quickly shakes his head to get rid of the totally inappropriate thoughts.

“Have you been out here before?” You turn your head to look back at him but freeze when you realize just how close he is.

He’s only inches away, his breath warm against your face and suddenly you can’t breathe. You don’t know what you’re waiting for, for him to say something maybe, but his eyes aren’t on yours anymore. Strangely, he’s focused on your lips.

His eyes darted between your mouth and your eyes, and your brow furrows in confusion. Neteyam was acting very strange.

When he finally breaks the tense silence, his voice is but a whisper. “Y/n? Have you been courted by anyone yet?”

You reel back in surprise. You have no idea what you expected him to say, but that was not it. “Um…No. My parents haven’t approved of anyone, and they say that I’m still too young anyways.”

You know courting is when two people wish to be mated, but you’re not entirely sure of all the details. Every time you ask your mom she brushes it off and says you don’t need to know yet. It’s frustrating, being so ignorant of such natural things, but you trust your mom would tell you if it’s really necessary.

His forehead scrunches, his eyes squinted in confusion. “That doesn’t make any sense, Y/n. How old are you?”

“I’m 19 seasons, why?”

He purses his lips. “I was just wondering.”

Neteyam’s thoughts are confirmed. You're 19 years old, a mature adult, and yet your parents have convinced you that you’re not at the age to be courted. He’d known you were sheltered when you didn’t understand the innuendo he made earlier, but he hadn’t realized how far your innocence went.

While he doesn’t think your parent’s should keep you in the dark, a part of him is pleased to know that you're untouched. Never been kissed. And now he has the chance to be your first.

The rest of the ride is spent in comfortable silence. You enjoy it more than you probably should but the feel of him behind you is nice. His warmth sinking into your skin is comforting in the best way. When you finally get to the island, you slide off the back of the ilu and let him lead you to shore.

“Tsireya showed us this place a few days after we got here. She said it was the best place to watch the sunset,” He informs you.

The island is familiar, but so different at the same time. It has a similar landscape, but there are some plants and animals that you don’t normally see on the mainland. The brush here is much more vibrant and the air feels less tamed.

“It’s amazing,” You gasp, taking in the view, a little in awe.

A shadow passes overhead and you tilt your face up to gaze at the swarm of fkio. The pack of bright purple birds squawk at you, their four wings fluttering gracefully. One of the younger ones swoops low to circle over your head, and you lift your hand up towards the creature, laughing. It dances over your head a couple more times before flying up to meet its mother.

You spin around to watch it fly away, only to find Neteyam staring at you with a small smile. You instantly feel self-conscious under his eyes and your laughter dies down.

“What are you staring at Neteyam?”

“I’m just enjoying the view, Y/n.”

You blush at the flirtatious lilt of his words. You turn your back to him as you walk, hiding from his gaze, but he catches up quickly. “Yes, it is nice out here.” He falls into step next to you. “Much quieter than in the village.”

He glances down at you as you reach out to brush the petals of a flower. “I’d be happy to bring you out here again.”

You immediately feel bad again for not telling him that he’d probably get in trouble for being here. You try to mask the guilt as you shoot him an appreciative look. “I would love that.”

The two of you continue to walk around the island, venturing between the warm sand and the canopy of mangrove trees. He challenges you to a race and the two of you chase fan lizards as they spin in the air. After losing two rounds of that game, you dare him to race you in the water. Of course, you are much more used to the water and beat him several times. Hours pass but neither of you notice the passing time as you explore together.

He tells you stories of his little brother, Lo’ak, who constantly gets him in trouble. He talks about his sisters too, his voice full of adoration. He even tells you that he considers Tuk to be one of his best friends.

In return, you tell him about your family. How you're the youngest and how you’ve always looked up to Tsireya and Anoung. You tell him how you were always closest to your sister and that she does your most days. You even tell him about your iknimaya and how you were terrified of the skimwig on your first try and immediately fell off. You love hearing his laugh as you recount the scary tale.

“Don't laugh at me! Those things are huge.” He only laughs harder, boasting how it was so easy for him.

“I conquered the skimwig on my first try!”

You shove at his shoulder as he teases you, and he splashes water at you in return.

Then you tell him about your spirit sister, Rayol, and your adventures with her. He seems to like the story about your first meeting and how Rayol saved you from a hungry akula fish.

You sit him down to show him your iknimaya gifts, proudly showing off your tattoo. Soft waves brush your legs as you sit in the shallow water.

“This is my marking.”

You stretch your leg out in front of you as you point to the black ink adorning the side of your thigh. The black curls over from the back of your thigh to the front in an elaborate design.

When he first reaches his hand out to trace the lines, you pull away. But you decide that, since you've spent hours together getting comfortable in each other's presence, letting him touch your marks can’t possibly cause any harm.

His fingers brush over the lines softly, a light caress on your skin. Your eyes close as you relax into the feeling. He traces the line that dips into your inner thigh, your skin heating under his touch, and your breaths come out a little harder. You try to keep still but a strange feeling settles low in your stomach.

Neteyam watches your face, far more interested in your reaction than the actual art. He takes in the way you start to breathe harder and how your hands clench in the sand. You’re so sensitive to his touch. Just a few soft caresses, not even anywhere indecent, and you’re practically putty in his hands.

You open your eyes at the loss of heat from his hand, the ghost of his touch fading. The day had been so fun, so carefree, up until this point. Tension builds between you and Neteyam, and you wonder how he must see you.

He must think you're weird, reacting to his touch like that. You’ve never spent time around any unmated guys in the clan, let alone spent time with them alone. The strange urge to curl into Neteyam’s side and inhale his comforting sweet was all new to you. All strange, but exhilarating too.

You breathe out softly, your skin flushing as he watches you. “I also got my clothing piece. For my iknimaya, I mean.”

You cross your legs, hoping to appease the warmth that’s been growing steadily in your belly. Odd.

He leans back on his hands, his lithe body splayed out in the shallow area where you’re resting. He nods, gesturing for you to continue, and doesn’t take his eyes off you for a single second. You have his undivided attention.

“My mom and sister made it,” You point to the small white beads that hang below your chest. “They sewed pearls into the strands so that it would sparkle. I like the color of the cords most, the oranges and brown remind me of sunset.”

You point out each piece to him, explaining the significance of the type of pearl and the painted beads. You get so involved in telling him all the little stories that go with each other, you don’t even notice him moving closer. Much closer. You nearly headbutt him when you finally look up from your chest piece.

He’s so close you can see the small white freckles painted across his cheeks

Much like earlier, your breath catches in your throat. His eyes are hooded and narrowed on you, as if stalking his prey. You wait for him to speak, but he doesn’t. His eyes roam your body, drinking you in. You aren’t sure what caught his attention or caused him to react like this. Maybe he was just really interested in your clothing?

“Neteyam?” You ask, barely above a whisper.

He reaches out to you, his nimble fingers brushing against the beads that hang off your chest piece. His hand grazes the skin there and you shiver against the feel of a calloused hand.

His eyes flit up to yours, and a cocky grin spreads across his face. He slides his hand up one of the braided cords of your top, just barely ghosting a touch over the peak of your breast as he goes.

You inhale sharply, frozen. The Navi were not modest people, not in the slightest, but it was one thing to be looked at and another to be touched. And no one had ever touched you in this way.

In his head, Neteyam wages war with himself. If this small touch could affect you so much, he couldn’t begin to imagine how you’d react to more. He wants to touch you more and in so many different ways. He wants to taste you, to feel you against his tongue. He wants to know if you’ll taste as good as you smell. He wants to hear your moans, to hear his name on your lips. He wants so much.

But he has to wait. Has to go slow.

You're innocent, in the most tempting of ways. So sweet, and so trusting of a man you’ve only known for a few weeks, and only spoken to once. He’s got to take his time with you. He’s got to teach you because it’s clear you have no idea what a courtship or a mating entails, and the last thing he wants to do is hurt you.

And to add on to all of that, you are his new Olo’eyktan’s precious, guarded daughter.

He really should stay away.

But the more he thinks about it, the more your innocence makes him want you more. You respond so nicely to his advances, and he’s seen you lean in to scent him more than once today. He’s also noticed the way you shift in your spot when he touches you. It kills him to know that your body wants him back, but you have no idea what any of it means.

“Neteyam?” You ask again, leaning over to tap his arm. The movement pushes your breasts up and out, and you pull back in embarrassment when his eyes dip lower.

“It's a pretty piece,” His voice is rough, scratchier than before. “For a pretty girl.”

A warm flush spreads from your cheeks, and warmth floods your body again, an ache blossoming under your skin. The way he looked at you was doing strange things to you, making you buzz with anticipation.

“Irayo, Neteyam.” You slide your hand into his. He engulfs yours entirely, his palm slightly rough but his grip gentle. “And thank you for bringing me out here. I don't get to leave the village very often.” Or ever.

Nausea curls in your stomach. Lying is wrong. Very wrong.

Little did you know, Neteyam was very aware of what he was getting into. When Lo’ak had goaded him into talking to you as some kind of joke, he had no idea he would become so infatuated.

“Anytime, Y/n.” His finger gently caresses your hand. “I actually picked this spot because your sister said it was a good place to see the stars.”

You stiffen. “You talked to my sister?”

Of course he had, she was training him. A voice in the back of your head warned you he might just be using you to get to her. It’s not a stretch. She’s the tskarem, the future Tsahik, and others have tried to use you to get to her before.

“No, but she told Lo’ak and he told me.”

“Oh.” Right. His brother told him. No need to be jealous of your sister.

He chuckles, and you look away in embarrassment. How stupid of you to be jealous over a guy you just met.

A warm palm snakes around the back of your head, and Neteyam turns your face toward him. Once again, you take notice of how much taller he is than you. You barely come to his shoulder, having to turn your head up to face him.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He coos as the heat of his palm seeps into your skin. His hand is big enough that his thumb brushes over the junction of your chin and neck, and the skin there prickles.

“Nothing.” You blurt. You breathe in softly. “Just happy to be here with you.”

He grins, those sharpened fangs glinting in the darkened night. “Come on.”

He drags you towards the beach again and pulls you to lay with him in the sand. Then, Neteyam points to the stars and names them for you, telling stories about his father and how he came from the bright orb in the sky. It’s so strange to you, so alien, that there’s a whole world out there that you’ve never known.

You stay like that for a while, laying nesting to each other. The sand is cooler now that the sun has set, and a cool breeze grazes your skin. The wind picks up, ruffling the leaves of nearby brush, and you wrap your arms around your torso to fend off the cold.

“Hey.” You twist your head to the side to see Neteyam watching you, his hand outstretched. “We’ll be warmer closer together.”

The temptation of warmth is too hard to ignore, so you maneuver your way closer until you’re pressed against his side. He wraps his arm around your back, your head nestling into the crook of his arm. His skin is hot, nearly burning.

“You were right, this is warmer.” You sigh contentedly, gazing up at the twinkling stars.

Neteyam passes his hand over your side soothingly, leaving goosebumps along your exposed skin. His heart beats quickly under your head, and you sigh at the comforting rhythm.

On the next pass of his hand along your waist, the tips of his fingers brush the cord of your skirt. You stutter, stumbling over the story you’ve been telling. How can you possibly focus with him touching you like this? It’s nothing but a friendly touch, but… everything about him screams more. Intimate. His hand rests there against your hip, its warmth laying heavy against your skin.

You do your best to sound normal as you recount the childhood story to him. It’s a simple tale about two friends and how they came to live amongst the stars, but the story becomes harder to tell as you become more aware of the man next to you.

You continued to stutter over the story, but your stomach kept clenching with this unknown need. You were beginning to think you were sick or something. And when his fingers dip towards your navel, you forget about the story completely.

“Y/n, why’d you stop?” He asks cheekily. Goosebumps rise along your skin as he strokes the skin just above your skirt.

An uncomfortable tension had been growing under your skin all day, but in this moment it all seems to come to ahead. Something is wrong. Very wrong. The tingling against your skin and the tightness in your chest are new. But you know that something is very wrong because there is something decidedly wet between your legs.

“Neteyam? I don’t think I feel very good.” You admit breathily, leaning a bit back from him. You’re sick. That must be it.

“What is wrong?” Neteyam watches you, those keen eyes drinking you in. Maybe… maybe he’ll know what's wrong and help you?

“I-I don’t know. I feel weird. I think I’m sick.”

“Weird how?”

You grab the wrist of the hand lying against your stomach, holding him still. “Here. It is like….Like when you are hungry but do not have food,” You paused to think. “But I am not hungry. And…” Should you tell him? You’ve never talked about anything down there with anyone except your mother.

He sits up, leaning his broad form over you. “And?”

“And I feel,” It feels shameful to speak about. “It feels wet, or something. Down there.”

Neteyam laughs, and you frown. You’re sick and he thinks it's funny? You never should have told him.

“Don’t laugh at me!” You huff, glaring up at him. “I am sick or something. I need to see a healer.”

“Oh, pretty girl.” He moves quickly, adjusting himself so he’s above you completely. His broad form blocks out the moon and the stars above, demanding all your attention. He cages you in, his arms on either side of your head and his legs bracing yours. “You do not need a healer, Y/n.”

He rests his weight on one arm and palms your cheek. Instinctively, you lean into it.

“I don’t understand. What are you doing?” The question is like a whisper in the wind, floating between you.

“You’re not sick.” He smiles kindly. “This feeling, down here,” He moves the hand from your face and presses gently onto the area below your navel. “It’s your body telling you that you have found a potential mate.”

You reel at this new information. How could you not know this? How come nobody has told you? And did this mean Neteyam was a potential mate? You have so many questions and so few answers.

“Why does it hurt?” If this is supposed to be a good thing, a signal that he would make a good mate, then why is it so uncomfortable?

Neteyam grins, leaning down to nuzzle your cheek. He lowers his body to rest his weight over you fully, pressing his body right up against yours. He eases one of his legs in between your thighs and settles.

“I can help you, Y/n. Make it less painful.” He kisses your cheek softly, and you nod. He’s been so kind and you can't help feeling safe with him. You want him to help relieve the ache, no matter how he does it.

“Say please.” He reprimands sternly.

“W-what?”

He smirks down at you. “Be nice and say please,” He kisses the tip of your nose. “And I’ll make it feel better.”

You don’t want to be rude, especially not when he’s helping you.

“Please Neteyam.” The plea is more of a whine than anything else.

He presses his thigh up against your center, the cloth of your skirt the only thing between your skin and his. You moan softly at the foreign pressure, pressing your hips down to meet him. It feels….Good. You roll your hips, searching to replicate the sharp spike of pleasure it elicits. You clutch at his arms, closing your eyes as you revel in the new sensation.

“I’m going to kiss you, okay, pretty girl?” The only sound you make in response is a soft whimper, nodding your head again.

He kisses you softly at first and then harder, slotting his mouth against yours and drowning out your gasps. He laps at your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours expertly. Neteyam’s hand cups the spot where your neck meets your jaw, holding you still as he devours you.

You wrap your arms around him, latching onto him hungrily. You had no idea kissing could be like this. Could be so all consuming. Neteyam was all but claiming you with his mouth, declaring to you that you were his and his alone. You would never want another after him.

You writhed against him, circling your hips as you sought an ending to the aching throb in your clit. Neteyam slides his hand to your hip and guides you, taking control of your frenzied movements. You give in to him easily, allowing him to mold your body against him and melting in his hands.

He kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin there. You moan out, gasping for air. He bites down softly, sharp canines digging into your skin.

You gasp out his name. “Neteyam—“

You’re cut off by the sound of a conch horn nearby. It shrills loudly through the night sky and you freeze all movement. It sounds again, this time closer, and icy fear runs down your spine.

“No, no, no!” You push at his chest hard, and the man rolls to the side immediately.

“Y/n? What’s wrong? What are those horns?”

You sit up off the ground, eyes wide in fear. You huff for breath, pushing up from the sand.

“They sound those horns when someone is missing,” Your voice wobbles as tears well in your eyes.

While you knew you would be in trouble for leaving, you hadn’t really thought about it. Going with Neteyam had been spur of the moment and you had just pushed the consequences aside. And now? Now you would actually have to face those consequences.

There was a moment of silence.

“They are searching for you.” Neteyam says, realization dawning. “I didn’t realize they would send people out if you left.”

“My parents are going to kill me.” Your hands start to shake. You were gone all day. Mom and Dad were going to kill you. The tears start to flow harder as you realize the extent of the trouble Neteyam will be in as well.

“I am so sorry, Neteyam. Please, do not be mad at me.”

He grabs your shaking hands, pulling you into his chest. “Hey, I could never be mad at you.”

Your voice cracks. “My parents never let me leave the village, it is their biggest rule. They keep me with a chaperone all the time.” You take a deep breath. “I cannot handle being locked away in that village until the day I die. So, when you offered to bring me here today, I didn’t mention that it could get you in a lot of trouble. I am so, so sorry.”

He softens and pulls you into a tight hug. “Do not cry. I knew that you were a bit sheltered. I would have done anything to spend the day with you, pretty girl.”

You hiccup. “You are not mad at me?”

“Of course not!” You relax into his hold, leaning your head against his shoulder.

Another horn sounds.

The two of you sit there silently for a moment before he leans away. “We have to go back. I will explain and tell them that I insisted on bringing you here.” He says surely.

He would sacrifice himself, face your father’s wrath, just to protect you from punishment? The gesture is so sweet you can't help but kiss him again. No one had ever done anything like that for you.

He kisses your forehead and takes your hand. “Come, we will ride the ilu back.”

You let him drag you to the ilu, all the way dreading the coming punishment. There is no way you are going to let him take the fall for this.

Your parents are going to be furious that you left the village. They are going to be even more angry when they find out who you were with. And if they find out what the two of you did while you were alone on the island…..

You don’t want to think about it. Instead, you focus on holding your breath as you ride towards the island, ready to face the wrath of the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik.

Part 2

#avatar #avatar: the way of water #neteyam fic #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar neteyam #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #atwow #thigh riding #smut #innocent!reader

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gimmethatagustd · 5 months

Text

delicate | pjm

After months of not talking to each other, Taehyung thinks he can charm his way into your life again. Thankfully, Jimin is there to help you work through your feelings.

○ Pairing: Jimin x f!reader (from Only Here To Sin)

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Established relationship, fluff, smut, pwp

○ Word Count: 3,987

○ Warnings: It's pretty much just porn, OHTS Taehyung strikes again!! he's annoying!!, mentions past sex with Taehyung, references toxic past relationships, consensual sex while under the influence of alcohol (just tipsy), using a tie as a blindfold, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, it's their first time together 🥹, I definitely didn't edit this (as usual, we post when we're done and we never look back)

○ Notes: This can be read as a standalone oneshot, but I recommend reading OHTS to get the full backstory~ and also because it's a disaster of a series, so it's kind of like watching a trainwreck. Don't judge me too much; I had no idea what I was doing when I wrote it. I still have no idea what I'm doing!

○ Post Date: December 16, 2023

○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots

○ What was Jai listening to? Like Crazy - Jimin

You knew going out with Jackie was a mistake. Even more of a mistake was your agreement to go to this nightclub.

“Are you cold?”

Jimin’s arms snake around your waist and draw you against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder. The light, minty scent of his toothpaste mixes with the floral notes of his cologne. Rather than overwhelm you, the smell grounds you and brings you into the present.

“I’m okay,” you mumble.

Jimin hums. You feel the sound vibrate from his throat against your shoulder and the side of your neck. He’s not convinced, and you know he isn’t.

“Want to go find your friends? I’ll order us drinks.”

You nod and reluctantly detach yourself from Jimin’s embrace. The poor bartender has far too many people crowding the counter. Jimin will have to wait a while; he’s too polite to cut in front of other customers.

The club isn’t big, but it’s packed. You feel like you’re clawing through the bodies swaying to the music with your head on a swivel to find your friends in the crowd. The last time you were at this club, you’d ended up in the bathroom with Taehyung’s fingers shoved inside you.

No. You are not going to think about that.

It has been five months. Five months of detoxing, of neatly packing away the hurt and confusion that Taehyung caused you and storing it in the attic of your mind. You’re a different person now. The person Taehyung manipulated and strung along was no more. And the most important part is that you’ve forgiven the person you used to be. It was too easy to be angry at yourself for your mistakes.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean you weren’t nervous about returning home for summer break. The memories and emotions triggered the moment you pulled into your parents’ driveway were enough to make you feel like throwing up. You’re lucky Jimin got time off from his music apprenticeship in California to visit you, or you may not survive the summer.

Dreary thoughts aside, you’re beginning to feel frustrated with your inability to find Jackie when you feel a warm hand slide into your palm and long fingers intertwine with yours.

“Hey, jagi.”

Despite the loud thrum of music, that smooth voice pierces through you sharply and clearly.

Taehyung’s cheeks shimmer pink with intoxication beneath his honey-toned skin. His hair is longer than when you last saw him. It falls into his eyes, obscuring them in a way that makes his already mystifying gaze all the more intimidating. They nearly glow in the pulsing club lights, sparkling with amusement.

“Miss me?” Taehyung tongues his cheek as his eyes take apart every inch of your body. “You look really good.”

How your stomach flutters with butterflies you’d thought were long gone makes you feel sick. You quickly rip your hand from Taehyung’s. You’d missed him, in the beginning, a little bit, but being with him had hurt you more than leaving him. It took making new friends to realize you’d missed companionship, not Taehyung. Now, you have far healthier friendships.

You can practically hear Alexis’s voice in your head, nagging you about toxic men like Taehyung.

“The worst thing a man can be is aware that he’s hot,” Alexis lectured you the first time you opened up to her about Taehyung. She wasn’t wrong.

“No, I did not.” The steadiness of your voice surprises you, though it shouldn’t. You’ve put in a lot of work to process your fucked up relationship with Taehyung. You can do this.

The smug look on Taehyung’s face doesn’t disappear, but that doesn’t surprise you.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in town, jagi?”

“Why do you even think I would tell you?”

Before you can demand that Taehyung stop calling you by the inappropriate term of endearment, you feel lips brush against your temple.

“I gave up,” Jimin admits with an apologetic smile and empty hands. His eyes take in your crossed arms and rigid stance when you don't speak. With a frown, he follows your gaze to notice Taehyung finally. “Oh, sorry, hi. I’m Jimin, her boyfriend.”

You try to be kind, but you want to punch the smug look off of Taehyung’s face when he offers his hand to Jimin.

“Nice to meet you, Jimin-ssi. I’m Taehyung,” he introduces himself. “Her ex.”

Jimin is too polite for his own good. He shakes Taehyung’s hand with his head cocked to the side. His pink lips scrunch into a sideways pout, and his eyebrows are just as tense. It’s the look he makes while writing his Music Theory essays. (“Music is about feeling, Y/N! Why do I need to write papers about it?”) It isn’t anger or frustration but a struggle to understand.

All you can think about is that Taehyung called himself your ex. After the grief he’d given you for wanting to be more to him than a sexual conquest, it’s unfathomable that he could claim the two of you had dated.

“She’s told me about you,” Jimin finally states. You’re not sure what angle he’s going for. In all honestly, you’d love to melt into the floor and bypass this entire conversation.

“That’s cute.” Taehyung’s eyes twinkle with the sparkles of the disco ball rotating overhead.

“Hmm, I guess, if you think being an asshole is cute.”

You hope your gasp isn’t detectable. Both men continue staring at each other, so it’s hard to tell.

“Do you?” Taehyung grins, and you barely hide your shock when Taehyung blatantly checks Jimin out.

It’s the same predatory look he’s given you in the past that makes your heart flutter and heat blossom between your thighs. You find it odd to see the look directed at someone else, let alone at your boyfriend.

It’s also odd that you feel relieved when Jimin’s cheeks flush pink at the sudden attention. Somehow, Jimin’s reaction is the validation you need to remind yourself that you haven’t made anything up. Taehyung has this uncanny power to capture people’s attention and draw them into his clutches with a simple look. Seeing Jimin affected by Taehyung makes you feel better about falling into his trap. It doesn’t take away all the blame; you take full responsibility for your actions. But it helps knowing someone as strong as Jimin can be flustered by Taehyung, too.

“I do not, actually.” Jimin tightens his hold on your waist. The feeling of his warm hand on your hip keeps you out of your head. Grounded. Jimin always keeps you grounded.

“Unfortunately, that’s all Taehyung knows how to be,” you pipe up. Even if your snappy comment does nothing to remove the smug look on Taehyung’s face, you get satisfaction from voicing your thoughts regardless.

“If I remember correctly, you enjoyed that about me.”

You let out a long sigh. “Tae, what matters is that I’m not enjoying anything about this conversation right now.”

Jimin presses his fingers into your side, gently reminding you he’s there – as if you could ever forget his presence.

“Let’s go, Jimin.” You wrap your pinky around Jimin’s and tug. “I’m sure whoever Taehyung came with is looking for him.”

You don’t wait for a response from either man. You’re over the days of having men tell you what to do.

Two hours later, you’re thoroughly tipsy and stumbling into Jimin’s hotel room with sore feet and the sensation of cotton in your ears from the nightclub’s loud music. Never the type to be out all night, it didn’t take long for you to ask Jimin if you could head back to his hotel room. Although you succeeded in ensuring Taehyung didn’t ruin the night for you, partying isn’t your thing anyway.

Jimin, on the other hand, is still wired. He strips off his shirt and tosses it onto the couch before working on unbuckling his belt.

“What’s the name of that guy Jackie’s dating?” he asks with a huff like he’s out of breath. You watch him tug his belt from the loops and toss it onto the couch.

“Seokjin? Well, he goes by Jin.” Jin and Jackie. They’re an unlikely pair but cute.

“Yes! He’s so funny!” Jimin pushes his jeans down his thighs. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone take that make shots. And you know how my fraternity is.”

Following Jimin’s lead, you shimmy out of your dress. The hotel’s vents are blasting cold air, so you quickly sort through Jimin’s suitcase to find one of his oversized t-shirts and a pair of loose boxers to wear. The two of you have undressed in front of each other before, and you’ve even fooled around while naked, but nothing has ever gone beyond using your hands and mouths to get each other off. Jimin has been unbelievably gentle and kind with your desire to take your relationship slow. You’ve been dating for nearly half a year, and he hasn’t pressured you.

You know it’s basic decency to respect someone’s boundaries, but considering the relationships you’ve had in the past, this is a big deal for you.

Not ready to sleep yet, Jimin sits in the bed and reaches for you with grabby hands and a slight pout. He looks adorable with his fluffy blonde hair. You’re not sure you can deny him anything, honestly.

“We probably should have had more water,” Jimin points out as you climb into his lap. Heat radiates from his bare chest, prompting you to snuggle against his skin to absorb some of that warmth for yourself.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re talking with this cute little slur.”

“I am not!”

Okay, maybe you are, but you’re not drunk. You’re just tipsy enough to feel loose in your limbs, light in your head, and hot in your core. Biting your bottom lip, you shift to straddle Jimin’s lap. The blankets pool around your waist, and Jimin’s hands naturally rest on your bare thighs.

Jimin lets you lift his chin so his head is tilted to look at you.

“Are you okay?” His hold on your hips is light but sturdy.

“I want you.”

Jimin’s eyes flutter closed when your lips brush against his neck. You suck at the soft skin where his jaw meets his throat while you thread your fingers through his blonde waves. When you nestle your fingers into the roots, you gently tug his hair.

A low groan rumbles from Jimin’s chest. His grip on your waist tightens, and the sensation causes your body to shudder.

“Are you sure?” He opens his eyes when you pull back from his neck, but you’re focused on the dark, reddish-purple bruise you’ve left on his skin. “I don’t want you to feel like you need to do anything after running into–”

“No.” Your response is curt, probably sharper than Jimin expects if his widened eyes are anything to go off of. “Taehyung doesn’t have any influence over me anymore, Jimin. This is just me wanting you, okay?”

It’s true; Taehyung has nothing to do with your desire for Jimin. Maybe if he does have some ounce of influence over the situation, it’s only because you feel empowered and emboldened after standing up to him. That, mixed with the alcohol, is giving you a sense of invincibility. It’s confidence that you might lose by the night's end, but you’re willing to ride the wave for as long as you can.

None of this is anything you’ll regret in the morning. If anything, you’ll be thankful for the opportunity to prove to yourself and everyone else that you’re ready to take on the things you’ve once feared.

Accepting your reassurances, Jimin nods. He runs a hand up your spine, stopping at the base of your head to cup your neck.

“Can I just say something first?”

His question makes your stomach flip, but you force yourself to maintain eye contact while you nod. You tend to get nervous with him when you’re intimate. There’s nothing wrong with Jimin; he’s kind and attentive. It’s your bad experiences with sex that make you hesitate. There’s too much pressure to perform well.

“You always get really nervous,” Jimin starts slowly, rubbing his palms up your thighs. “And I was trying to think of a way to help you relax.”

Shame burns your cheeks because you feel like this isn’t something Jimin should have to do. It’s pathetic, isn��t it? Why can’t you handle sex without getting so stressed out over it?

“Okay…” you prompt him to continue, though you aren’t sure if you want him to.

“Would you be willing to try something? I promise if you don’t like it, we can stop.”

If it were anyone else, you’d be scared of Jimin’s question, but you find it relatively easy to agree to whatever plan he has – albeit nervously.

Careful not to jostle you too much, Jimin maneuvers you off his lap and goes to his suitcase. It takes a few seconds for him to find what he’s looking for, but when he faces you again, you feel your heart flutter.

In Jimin’s hands is a silk black tie, which he keeps for special occasions – such as the dinner he attended with you and your parents when he first arrived in your hometown for the summer. It looks good on him, especially when he loosens it and lets it hang haphazardly around his neck.

Despite your limited sexual experience, it’s clear that he won’t be the one wearing it tonight. Approaching the bed, Jimin instructs you to sit back with your legs spread so he can kneel between them.

“You trust me?” he whispers. When you nod, he reaches behind your head to secure the tie so that it covers your eyes. “Let me know if it’s uncomfortable, and I can redo it.”

“It feels okay.” Strange, but okay.

You can’t see anything, so you keep your eyes closed. Rather than become even more nervous about the unknown of the darkness, you find that it’s actually relaxing. So often, you let negative thoughts ruin intimacy with Jimin, preventing you from moving forward in your relationship. Somehow, being blindfolded empties your mind until all you can think about is how you imagine what Jimin looks like while he touches you.

You let Jimin guide you to lie flat on your back. With your most prominent sense taken away, you focus on your others to tell you what’s happening. Jimin is slow as he slips his hands beneath the hem of your shirt to push it up your torso.

“Can I take this off?” His breath is hot against the side of your neck, and you feel the bed shift when he hovers above you.

“Yes,” you reply, barely above a breathy whisper.

Once Jimin has removed your shirt, his body heat disappears. You don’t panic, but you feel lost without his touches there to ground you. That is, until you feel something wet flick across your nipple.

“Oh, god,” you moan when Jimin wraps his lips around your nipple and gently sucks.

His tongue is hot and sloppy as it swirls around the bud until it’s perky and hard. Satisfied with his work, Jimin attaches his plush lips to your other nipple and repeats the same action.

You arch your back, pushing against his mouth. Jimin wraps his arms around your waist to press his palm to the small of your back, further pulling you into him. The darkness heightens your sense of touch, making each hot swipe of Jimin’s tongue and the graze of his teeth against your skin even more tantalizing. Your pussy throbs with how wet and hot you’re growing just from this alone.

“Jimin,” you whimper.

His fingers hook around the edge of your borrowed boxers. “Can I take these off, too?”

You nod your head quickly and lift your hips to make it easier for Jimin to pull his boxers off of you.

“So pretty…”

You let out a high moan when you feel the pads of Jimin’s fingers brush against your entrance. He gathers your arousal and smears it over your lips and clit. You can hear the squelch the wetness makes when he dips his fingers inside of you just enough to gather more of the sticky mess. Your wet skin goes cold, and you can tell Jimin has blown air on you.

“I’m going to eat you out, okay?” Jimin punctuates his question with a tiny flick of his tongue against your pussy.

“Please, fuck, please,” you want to cry and try to push your hips against where you think his face is, but his hands hold your hips down.

“I will, I will.”

Jimin laughs, airy and gentle, before pushing his tongue further between your lips to flick your clit. He repeatedly sucks on your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive skin while his lips envelop you.

Your skin is blazing from the heat of his heavy breathing and how his touch makes you burn. Every suck of your clit makes you gush between your thighs. You can imagine Jimin staring up at you with dark eyes as he eats you out, humming into your pussy with satisfaction.

You arch into his face when you feel pressure at your entrance again, and Jimin slips two fingers into your pussy. He thrusts them in and out, hooking them to press his fingers against your front wall to find the spot he knows so well that makes you squirm.

“Fuck,” he groans into your dripping pussy. Turning his head to the side, Jimin brushes his mouth against the inside of your thigh. His lips are soaked and sticky.

You rock against his hand as he fingers you, letting out little “ah ah ah’s” with each thrust against your front wall. You feel like you’re on fire, like every breath will ignite your body, make you combust.

“Please, Jimin, please.” You never thought you’d be the type to beg, but you’re so desperate to cum that it’s embarrassing. “I’m going fucking crazy, please.”

You try not to compare Jimin to Taehyung; you really try. But it’s hard not to, especially when Jimin gives you the best head you’ve ever had. Foreplay has never lasted this long before. You can’t tell if it’s a blessing or a curse.

“Ready for me?” It’s both hard to hear and so fucking hot when Jimin asks the question into your pussy.

It’s disorienting when Jimin uses his clean hand to pull his tie off your face. You blink a few times to adjust to the light, belatedly realizing neither of you ever turned it off. While some people like intimacy in the dark, you and Jimin always keep the lights on. It’s nice to look at it other; it feels more intimate.

You switch positions, allowing Jimin to sit against the headboard and have you straddle his lap like you were before.

“Ride me first, okay?” Jimin whispers in your ear when he takes your arms and wraps them around his shoulders. “I want to see your face when you take my cock for the first time.”

Your pussy flutters, and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to survive taking his cock if his words are enough to create a reaction in you that makes your knees weak.

“Oh, oh,” you whimper as Jimin sits against the bedframe. “Okay.”

“Look at me.”

And you do. You stare into those narrowed, sultry eyes as you line his cock with your entrance, one hand squeezing his shoulder to help you lean at the correct angle. The stretch is quite easy despite your previous concerns about taking Jimin fully. It should have been obvious; you’re so drenched that you slide down on his cock so smoothly that you want to fucking die.

You know what you’re doing, having had plenty of experience riding Taehyung in the past. It’s different this time, of course. Jimin never takes his eyes off yours as you bounce on his cock. His hands squeeze your hips to guide you up and down his cock, encouraging you to lift until only the head of his cock is nestled in your pussy before sliding back down his entire length. You’re so wet that Jimin’s thighs glisten with your arousal, as do yours.

“You’re gorgeous,” Jimin says with a soft smile.

“Oh my god,” you squeeze his shoulders as you rock against him, “You’re, you’re cuter.”

“Whatever you say, baby.” Jimin rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to your forehead.

He’s so cute, even as your pussy sucks in his cock and clenches around it. How is it possible for him to seem so innocent in a moment like this? It makes your heart swell with a love you’re worried you’ll never be able to fully articulate to the precious boy beneath you.

“Feels good,” you moan against his mouth when you lean forward to kiss him. “I’m gonna cum already.”

Jimin sucks your bottom lip at the same time he slips his hand between your bodies to start rubbing your clit. The two points of pleasure cause you to slump forward, but luckily, Jimin takes over. He thrusts into with swift, strong movements, never stuttering even when you can tell that he’s nearing his orgasm, as well.

There’s no shame in not lasting very long. You’re both a little bit drunk and extremely horny. The buildup to this moment is almost a climax all on its own. Neither of you can be blamed for how frantically you claw at each other and do your best to grind against each other’s bodies as hard and fast as you can.

“Come on, baby,” Jimin groans into the crook of your neck as he fucks you. “We can cum together, okay? Let go for me so we can make each other feel good.”

“Oh, Jimin, y-yes, fuck, okay.” You nod your head and pant your words against the curve of his ear. Needing something to hold onto, you dig your fingers into Jimin’s hair.

Jimin always knows the right things to say and finds a way to ease your stress and ground you. He talks you through your orgasm and holds you close as you cum. It’s erotic, but it feels gentle and intimate. Rather than dirty talk, it feels sweeter and more caring.

Even when Jimin finds his release, coming in you with a brutal grip on your waist, he whispers soft words of gratitude because he sees fucking you as a privilege – not a challenge to be won.

When it’s over, you melt into Jimin’s embrace, chest to chest, with your head resting against his shoulder. You’re both sweaty and sticky, but it doesn’t matter. All you want to do is be close and be held.

“How are you doing?”

You nod, unable to find the words to express how utterly content you feel. Not just content – you feel cared for, even when all you’ve done is fuck. It’s different with Jimin. It’s gentle. It means something.

“Did the tie help?” he asks, curious and wanting to have done a good job coloring his tone. It’s sweet, just like all of Jimin.

“It did,” you finally speak up. Turning your head to the side, you press your lips against Jimin’s neck and speak to his warm skin. “It helped me get out of my head, so all I focused on was you and how you made me feel.”

“Good?”

You smile with your eyes closed when you feel him kiss your forehead. “You always make me feel good.”

Jimin squeezes you in his arms, content with humming a happy reply against the top of your head. No other words need to be said; for now, the two of you bask in the warmth you bring each other and know that whatever the morning brings, you’ll always have safe arms to fall back into.

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.

#bts fanfic #jimin x reader #bts x reader #jimin fanfic #jimin smut #jimin fluff #bts fluff #bts smut #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #ohts #delicate

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