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gyuswhore · 2 months

Text

Grease (the tragedy)

“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.”

jeon wonwoo x reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings: smut [minors DNI], fluff, angst, mechanic!wonu, annoyances to lovers, blind date gone wrong but then gone right, kissing, clit stuff, oral (f. rec), thigh fucking (oop), this all happens at a desk LMAO, title is a what I thought was a funny spin on how people say "grease (the musical)"....has nothing to do with the musical though but lots to do with actual grease!!!

synopsis: In which you have to sit through one of the worst dates of your life, followed by the insistent tug of fate and compulsion that lead you straight back to where you'd sworn you'd never go.

[a/n]: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WIFE CAMOTHY @highvern everyone go say happy birthday to cam or ill appear in your room at night 🔫 anygays HAVE FUN READING THIS I hope this is all the sexy wonu content you wanted, I cant wait for your reaction hehehhehe

and also bigbigbigbig thank you to jessifer @the-boy-meets-evil for proofing this for me!!! ily heh

and and to everyone reading this who is not cam, I hope you enjoy reading mechanic!wonu as much as I liked writing him heheh PLS REMEMBER TO REBLOG AND TELL ME UR THOTS it could be in the tags, replies, an ask literally anything!!!! id love to hear what you guys think!!!!

masterlist

[You]: do you think he died on the way [Liv]: hes still not there??? [You]: what do you think????? [Liv]: let me ask Amelia [You]: dont bother [You]: he can show up whenever he wants im leaving in 5 [Liv]: you promised you’d sit thru this!! [You]: sit thru what? an empty seat across from me???

Liv doesn’t respond immediately, and you immediately know she’s buggered off to ask her cousin why your date still wasn’t here.

It’s not like you couldn’t have asked him yourself, the sparse textbox sitting just under Liv’s contact. You open it to inspect the contents.

[liv’s cousin’s something]: Amelia gave me your number [liv’s cousin’s something]: friday night at the sage&salt at 7 [liv’s cousin’s something]: is that okay [You]: uh hey [You]: yeah that’s fine

Today 7:20 PM

[You]: im here?

The first thread of texts were enough to make you feel like this was some cold business meeting instead of a date, knowing wherever this would lead would be either the city dump or off a cliff. Liv was hearing none of it, taking the guilt tripping route, saying she’d already committed and her cousin was irritating enough even without a scuffle.

So when Friday evening came around you’d pulled on the first dress your fingers could find, took all of ten minutes fighting with your makeup to make it look like you did something and left the house with zero expectations.

Despite that, as you see a man walk into the establishment dressed like he’d gotten into a fight with a squid and a paper shredder, you feel the stone in your chest tank into the abyss. Zero expectations, and he’s somehow managed to strike out anyway.

The jacket looks like he’s put it on as a weak cover for the grime stains on his shirt and trousers, a couple jet black splatters across the outfit to really pull the whole thing together. It’s not like he looked homeless or anything, his face surprisingly handsome with his hair pushed away from his forehead. Although he remains looking like he’d been playing football in some neighbourhood parking lot before remembering he had an adult appointment too.

You’d never seen the man in your life, but your gut told you this was the shit texter who’d kept you waiting for nearly an hour. He seems to notice too, eyes locking from across the restaurant as the waitress leads him to your table.

“Wonwoo,” you greet with a difficult smile, half sure it came out as a grimace. “Right?”

“Yeah,” he huffs as he practically slams back down on the chair, and you wonder for a moment how the legs didn’t give out. He says your name and you nod. “Sorry I’m late, I got a call in the parking lot.”

He’s been in the parking lot this entire time?!

It’s like you’ve been doused in gasoline and lit on fire, yet somehow needing to give him a shaky reply anyway.

“O–oh, I see.”

The waitress saves you from spitting in his face when she asks if you were ready to order.

Dinner was off the table, as you discussed with Liv who forwarded it to her cousin to her–whoever it was that set up this god awful date–and agreed on dessert and perhaps a drink.

“I’ll have the chocolate cake,” you request in an attempt to make this somewhat better. You consider for a moment before asking for a drink as well, “And a dry gin martini, please.”

“Um,” he staggers as he barely skims the menu, ultimately flipping it closed. “I’ll have the same, I guess.”

Deep voice. You might’ve liked that if you weren’t already so peeved.

The waitress disappears with the menus, leaving you two alone for the first time.

“So,” you start with an exhale. “How do you know Amelia?”

“Her husband.”

“I see.”

Silence.

“How do you know her husband?”

He sighs like this is all inconveniencing him, and it irks you to an irrespective degree. Like you wanted to be here either.

“He brings his car to the workshop alot, became friends somewhere along the line.”

“Workshop?”

He looks a little startled, cocking his head to the side. “I’m a mechanic? Did Olivia–was it–not tell you?”

“No, she didn’t.”

It’s silent yet again as the man across from you refuses to elaborate. You curse as you ask him a follow up question. If there was anything you hated more than shouldering a dead conversation, it was sitting through an awkward silence.

One hour. You’d sit through this for one more hour and then you’d leave.

“What kind of cars do you work on?”

“Expensive ones,” he answers. You might’ve kicked yourself if he’d ended it at that, but he continues with a purse of his lips. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it. Vintage pieces too.”

“Have I heard of it?”

“The cars?”

“No, I mean,” you let out a breath. “Your workshop.”

“Jeon Motors, just a couple streets down actually.”

You did know what he was talking about, not expecting to recognise it through the empty question, passing by it on multiple occasions in this part of the city.

“Oh, I’ve seen it a few times.”

“Yeah, we’ve been there for a while.”

“Family business?”

“Uh–sort of.”

“Okay,” you sigh in an irritated laugh. This was going to be a very difficult hour. “Keep that to yourself too.”

“Is there a problem?”

Just as you lift your eyes to lock with his, a ready yes, there is actually a problem on your tongue, there’s an intrusion.

“Here are your chocolate cakes,” the waitress places the cakes down, and then the drinks. “And your dry gin martinis. Do you guys need anything else?” By the time the waitress is gone you’ve somewhat forced yourself to put that sudden surge of flames out, to a degree at least.

“Okay,” he sighs, grabbing his glass and downing nearly half the contents. He emerges, wiping a bit of a spill from the corner of his mouth. “Let’s get this out of the way.”

“Hm?” He’s speaking to you with a very weird surge of intensity, and it confuses you.

“Neither of us wanna be here. You’re clearly trying to be hospitable but I’d really rather you not, especially when we’re both doing this to get our respective ticks off our hides.”

There isn’t much you can do but stare at him.

“Have I misjudged your advances?” he asks over his glass, sharp eyes piercing.

“No!” you yelp, reaching for your drink yourself, taking big sips only to emerge sputtering and heaving.

Your date looks like he’s rising out of his chair when you raise a hand to stop him.

“No,” you repeat, less jumpy this time. “I guess we could’ve cleared that out from before.”

Did he…snort?

“Sorry.” Dropping his chin to his chest, he composes himself.

“What?” you ask, remaining annoyed as ever.

“Nothing.”

That does it. You slam your now empty glass down on the table, slipping your fork out of the napkin a little forcefully, the metal glinting in the light of the restaurant. You dig into a corner of the cake and shove it in your mouth.

If he was gonna be rude, you could be too.

“I don’t know about hospitable.” You swallow. “But I assumed not being an ass was kind of an unwritten rule for any situation really. Including the ones you’d rather not be in.”

Wonwoo stares at you with a blank face, his cake untouched. “I’m being an ass. My laugh couldn’t have offended you that much.”

“So you did pick that up,” you comment. “With the way this conversation’s going I would’ve thought it flew right over your engine.”

“I’d argue your laugh was the least offensive thing you’ve done tonight.” You plunge your fork into your cake again. “But clearly we’re in different realms of etiquette.”

Your eyes meet the rough stains on his attire, and then his own that bore into yours like a challenge. The cake isn’t too sweet, rich just the right amount and texturally sound. Maybe something good did come out of this fiasco.

“Okay fine,” he announces, sitting up straighter. “I apologise.”

“For laughing?”

“And for being obscenely late.”

“And?”

“And…” he genuinely looks like he’s struggling to figure it out, but catches your eyes flickering to his tattered and stained outfit. “And for my entirely inappropriate dressing sense. You’ll have to forgive me for that one, oil and grime are my spoils of war.”

“Wear it like a badge, mister mechanic, but perhaps somewhere it’s appreciated.”

Wonwoo has already finished his drink, his cake remaining untouched. “You’re quite adamant on disliking me.”

“And you’re quite adamant on being a horrid conversationalist.”

The corners of his mouth lift the slightest bit. Opening his mouth to respond, you cut him off. “Cars don’t talk? Or perhaps, machines are easier to understand?”

“More like I don’t care to be personable.”

“That can’t be good for business.”

“The cars speak for themselves.”

He’s a weird one. Even more so when he offers to pay the entire bill, promising you he wasn’t lying when he said he was good at what he does, and to “make up for lost personality points.” You manage to pay your half anyway, considering the circumstances.

“Can you at least let me drive you home?” Wonwoo asks as you both step out of the establishment soon after.

“Depends.” You fix the strap of your bag. “Will it fall apart on the highway?”

The blaring white of the restaurant's outdoor lights backlight Wonwoo to make him look like some sad angel. He turns to you, the same slight smirk that seems to be plastered on his face. “Why don’t you find out?”

“What do you mean sell it? I got this thing a year ago!”

There isn’t much you can do but sigh loudly as you listen to Olivia talk about the state of her car, the one that cost too much to justify but she seemed to use and abuse like a very replaceable toy truck.

Leaning against the hood of the darn thing, you talk to her. “The dealership is giving you a shit deal to take it off your hands, you might as well try your luck.”

The look on her face is easy to read as she silences. Not convinced in the slightest, waiting for the conversation to end just so she could figure it out on her own. Sighing loudly, you look back to the dark beauty with a crate of issues that make it spit and sputter to a stop every few weeks.

“How much did you say the repairs cost again?”

“Enough to put me on food stamps,” she whines through her frustration, tears pricking against her eyes as they glisten under the neighbourhood streetlights. “Why are you smirking like that?!”

“It’s just,” you pause as you consider your next words, pressing your lips together. “This is a little bit your fault.”

Lies, it was entirely her fault.

Liv stares like you’ve just offended her, which you’re sure you have.

“Care to share how this possible bankruptcy could be my fault?"

“Because you drive the thing like you have a secret reserve buried somewhere in Tenerife.”

“My apologies for making a habit of not being a public nuisance and going forty on a national highway.”

“Your speed-o-metre is not the issue here.”

“Yes, of course, everything’s my fault.”

“Liv, please!” You groan loudly. “Just…let’s try putting up a listing tomorrow. Consider the prospects and you can decide from there.”

Sagging her shoulders and stretching her neck, Liv decides to simply trudge back indoors in silence. You take it as a begrudging yes, and follow her inside.

That very night, when you were at the very cusp of falling into the dark space of sleep, your brain re-awakens before your eyes do. A jolt as the memory comes back to you of the many months ago, sitting in that restaurant across from a man who was too handsome for the personality he seemed to sire.

“Expensive ones,” he had said. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it.”

How fitting.

“Are you going to explain or should I explode instead?”

You’d mentally prepared for the bombardment of accusations from Liv, her questioning perfectly right as you yourself cringed at the thought of showing your face here of all places. The one last one that’d officially banned her from ever setting you up with an individual of her choosing ever again.

Hearing only silence as her answer, she appeals; “I thought he was the worst date of your life.”

“Nothing to do with his skills as a mechanic,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact.

“And everything to do with this being a horrible idea anyway!” Liv stares up at the sign on top of the garage. Jeon Motors. “What makes you think this guy can fix my car?”

What did make you think he could fix Liv’s car? If you’d known you might have given her an answer, but as you stare at the giant signboard that you’ve driven past for longer than you can remember, you can’t help but feel this place has been haunting you. Just a little.

You can’t help but feel the tingle of goosebumps rise on your skin, the hairs across the expanse standing up at the thought of walking inside. There was no way you could differentiate the reaction from plain nerves or from the cringing drills that sound all the way outside the establishment. Regardless, you make an attempt to look confident as you make your strides into the pungent of the workshop.

The first thing you note is how…clean everything is. Cleaner than any other workshop you’ve walked into anyway.

The interior is bigger than it looks from the outside, the ginormous hall hosting about a dozen cars within your eyeshot alone. One side of the great hall holds an array of parked cars in different stages of dismantled and deconstructed, while the other side is lined with contraptions that look like stripped and enlarged elevators.

Once you’ve inhaled a beyond recommended amount of smoke fumes and listened past all of the clanging, banging and sparks, you register the people that are elbow deep in the hoods of the vehicle they’re working on, enough to leave you and Liv standing at the entrance of an establishment that you can barely make sense of.

“Can I help you?” A man in stained beige overalls approaches your wide eyed pair, face half covered in his baseball hat and hands occupied with a rag.

To your slightest dismay, it isn’t the man you’re looking for.

“Uh– is Wonwoo here?” you ask.

“He’s in a meeting right now. Are you a friend?”

No, just a failed love interest.

“He,” you falter. If you weren’t a friend…then what were you? “He gave me his card.”

“Do you need help with your car?”

“Mine, actually,” Liv pipes. “It’s outside if you wanna take a look first.”

With one sweeping look across the warehouse, your eyes land on one of the few doors on the left. You register the plain look of it for barely a moment before joining Liv outside.

By the time her car has been rolled and parked inside for a more thorough inspection, it’s taken you every last grain of your willpower to not stalk back out and wait in your car. For whatever reason, you can’t help but feel a very familiar spasm of irritation spark through you. Here you are, left anxiously waiting for the same man for a second time, merely feet away but remaining occupied with more important things.

At the very least, the multiple hands prodding around the car’s engine were being somewhat of use, attempting to survey the same issues that had been looked at about a dozen times before. You silently promise to be a better person if this trip wouldn’t be for vain.

“Am I late for something again?”

Your throat is suddenly clogged as you open your mouth and no sound graces your presence. The face that meets you has his eyebrows raised as he stares at you in expectation, a ghost of a smile on his face.

“W–Wonwoo, hi, um.” You clear your throat loudly, heat cursing your cheeks. “No, of course not.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure after…four months?” he asks, hands on his hips and his back straightened.

“I…my friend’s car needed to be looked at so…”

“Ah, of course!” He turns to where you’ve motioned, looking at the popped hood of the car his employees are working on. “I’ll take a look at it myself, don’t worry about it.”

He’s already walking away, towards the car and leaving you a ways away from the action. You stare at his back; the overalls tied at the waist and the stained white T-shirt that clings to his form from the humidity.

Wonwoo remains a man of a few words, and you remain at wits end about it all.

A loud honk gives you something to do as you jump at the sound so up close, scrambling to move away from the smack centre as another car pulls into the garage.

“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.” Wonwoo snickers from his place hunched over the hood as he cranes his neck to look at you.

You walk over to where he is to get out of the way. “Was that meant to sound like an innuendo?”

“I was talking about the occasional running over someone’s foot,” he answers. “Not sure what you were thinking.”

Ignoring the jab, you note that it was now only you and him crowding the car, “Where’s Olivia?”

“Went to look at spare parts.” You watch him as his gloved hands reach further into the enclave and yank at something hard.

“So you can fix it?”

“The car? It’ll take a couple days but it’s not really an issue.”

Furrowing your brows, you press on, “But the dealership—”

“Dealerships are the spawn of the devil,” he grunts as he finally wrenches out a spare nut or bolt or something that’s covered in oil. “Let me guess, they wanted her to sell it back to them?”

It’s your turn to raise your brows. “Yes. They tried fixing it, but it'd just stop again.”

“Because they’ve been fixing the symptoms.” He raises his eyes to meet yours, hands occupied with rubbing the part in his hands relatively clean with a rag. “They haven’t bothered to do anything about the actual problem.”

“Because that’s gonna cost…?”

“Couple hundred, give or take,” he announces nonchalantly, turning his focus back to the engine.

“But—” That’s it?

“Fifty extra for every question I have to answer after this.” You briefly wonder if Wonwoo’s eyes were always this piercing, boring into your soul like he didn’t need words to know what was going on with you.

“Fine,” you huff, moving to drag a chair over, mostly just so you could have reason to break eye contact, and plop down as you watch him work.

The more you think about it, the more you can find yourself unbothered by his strange behaviour. He wasn’t bleak, but nowhere near one of the more interesting people you’ve met. Taking the opportunity to really scan the man head to toe, you can’t say you find anything truly concrete to be this put off by him.

Not much of a talker, but with the times you’ve prayed for a man that knew when to shut up sometimes, you wonder how much you can actually complain about this boon in particular.

Besides, he was a looker, and you were completely content shutting your trap if it meant you got to shamelessly ogle at him from this close.

“You know, this place looks bigger than it does from the outside.”

Wonwoo stares pointedly.

You raise a shoulder in nonchalance, “Wasn’t a question!”

He simply huffs as he mumbles, “More length than breadth I suppose.”

“What are those things called?” you ask as you watch a sedan get lifted into the on some platform on the other end of the row.

Glancing back, he answers, “Post lift, car lift, whatever you wanna call it.”

“What does it do?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Touché.”

Glancing back at him, you catch sight of his stained shirt once again. “Is that the same thing you wore to our date?”

Chin to chest, he registers what he’s wearing, hands still working on pulling bolts and boxes out of the hood. “Have about twenty of the same shirt, I can never be too sure.”

“You’re impossible.”

He smirks, “Touché.”

You questioned if this was a mistake.

Olivia could pick up her car herself, so why did you insist to be the one that did it? As you pay the taxi driver, you feel your ankles lock for a moment as you move to slip out of the cab. Frozen, you hear the driver ask you if everything was alright, to which your legs seem to work again, finally foot to gravel in front of the dreaded workshop.

The Jeon Motors sign blares the same as it always has in the afternoon light, glinting as it encourages you to walk in and do one of the stupider things you’ve done in life. Other than the ridiculous outfit you’ve put on, of course.

But alas, as you hand over your slip to one of the many mechanics in the workshop, you find yourself praying he wasn’t here after all, that perhaps you could miss him as you leave and never have to see him again.

Somebody yells out his name, and the dream drifts away like smoke.

Finding the courage, you look up to where the man shouted for him, and immediately wish you hadn’t.

Wonwoo remains in his overalls, the same ones that he had tied to his waist the last time you saw him. His undershirt however…

The tank top is revealing too much for you to pretend you don’t care, his hair remaining pushed back and away from his forehead as he walks over to you in what feels like slow motion. He takes the slip that he does not need, smiling at you as he says his hellos.

“Car’s all fixed up, just need some papers that need signing and you’re all set.”

“Oh, but Liv isn’t here today.”

“That’s alright, you can sign them too,” he reassures, motioning for you to walk with him towards the car. “The car was alright in the test drives, revving hasn’t caused any problems either.”

He halts in front of the now (supposedly) fixed black sedan and pats the hood lightly, “If anything happens tell her to bring it straight here, although it shouldn’t have any more problems.”

“What’s your rate of return on customers?” you ask, a slight smirk on your face.

He thinks for a moment, “Pretty crap. But I guess that means I’m doing something right.”

You consider yourself something of a helicopter parent when it comes to your own car, but perhaps you’d change that if it meant you’d get to come here a little more often.

Goodness, what’s gotten into you.

Wonwoo’s smiling too, and for a brief moment the silence is nearly awkward. A pause before he proposes leaving.

“Shall we go to the office then?”

Nodding eagerly, you trail behind him as he leads you towards the other end of the workshop, passing by even more cars in all their stripped or constructed glory. Glancing in front, you catch sight of Wonwoo’s back, ensnared for a moment before you snap your head away, reciting every curse word you know like a mantra.

“It’s less hot in here too, keep the air on all the time.” Wonwoo stands in front of the plain doors, hands on the handle to wrench it open. You recognise it as the same door you had noted a few days ago. “Would you like anything? Coffee, tea?”

“Um, just water is fine, thanks.”

It’s quite plain, beige and leather against cream walls and unfittingly white lights. There’s a desk on one corner that’s beyond cluttered with more papers than you can register, pens and other office supplies mixed into the disorganised chaos of the large tabletop.

“Sorry about the mess, I can never find time to sort through it.” To your surprise, the light tinge of his cheeks suggest he might actually feel a little embarrassed.

Cute.

There’s cabinets that line on one of the far walls, and you watch him take his gloves off to open it and reach for a cup. The white porcelain emerges stained with an ashy grey as his fingers betray him. He looks flustered, glancing at his hands and back up to the cabinet.

You can’t help but laugh a little, moving forward to help. “It’s alright, let me.”

“Sorry,” he apologised again, with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll, um, wash this off.”

“Go on, I’m here,” you reassure as you move towards the water dispenser in the corner to fill your clean cup.

He returns with significantly cleaner hands and apologises one last time. “Seems all I do around you is apologise.”

You have the good humour to chuckle, “So I’ve noticed.”

He does well to clear out most of the clutter that’s on his desk, leaving enough room to set down a few pieces of paper as you take a seat on the opposite side.

As you scan through the papers, he attempts to make sober conversation. “You should…bring your car around for inspections if you want.”

“Oh? Even if I ask a million questions?”

“I can make an exception or two,” he grins.

“And if you charge me double?”

“Might not charge you at all.”

“Might?” you question as you lift the pen he’d given you to sign the first space.

“Might.”

“And what’re the conditions for that?”

He doesn’t answer as he ponders and you fill in the second blank. “I’ll have to think about that.”

You snort before you can help it, your last signature coming out a little wonky as your hands shake. Turning the papers over to him, you continue, “Well then, let me know when you figure it out.”

He stares pointedly as he accepts the papers before dropping his eyes again, “Can I?”

“Hm?”

“Can I? Let you know?”

It’s like you’ve been frozen over, the typewriter in your mind jamming as it punches out the implications of what he’s saying.

“It seems, at least to me, that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” he continues.

You hesitate. “I think so too.”

“I…I don’t want to put anything like pressure on you but–”

“Would you like to try the new gelato place downtown this week?” you ask finally as you save him from his misery. “If…you’d like.”

He looks stunned for a moment before he’s scrambling, “Oh–of course! Yes, anytime is fine with me.”

“Great,” you smile, lifting from your seat. “It’s a date.”

“I’ll promise to wash my hands this time…and my shirt. And I won’t be late.”

“Let’s not make promises we can’t keep,” you tease.

You’re nearing the door as he follows behind, and just as you’re about to pull down on the handle, you hear him say your name.

Turning around, almost too eagerly, you look up at him in expectation. He’s close, almost right behind you as he looks like he’s debating whether opening his mouth is a good idea.

“Are you doing anything else today?”

“Um,” you stutter for a moment. “I don’t have to drop off the car till later tonight, that’s all really.”

He swallows. “Do you wanna stay? Just a little while. We can stay in here, nobody comes in anyway.”

You aren’t entirely sure why you said yes, because you did actually have dinner plans with Liv later tonight, but the teeny tiny voice in your mind egged you on anyway. Besides, Liv wouldn’t mind, not if you were cancelling for this.

This entailed the very friendly contact of Wonwoo’s tongue in your mouth, and the extremely cordial way it seemed to caress your insides. If somebody asked you how it led to this, you don’t think you’d have an answer. Not that you care, especially when his hands are grabbing your waist and hips like that.

He’s already locked the door, reassuring you that nobody would find their boss and client in the smack dab middle of the devil’s tango. You take his word for it, relishing in the way his hot breath hits your skin below your ears, his mouth sucking under your earlobes as you whimper ever so quietly.

Your hands are on his exposed biceps, feeling him up all to your heart's content. “Do you–Do you always wear stuff like this?”

He emerges, wet lipped and eyes trained. “So I wasn’t imagining it.”

“Imagining what?” you ask as you let him unbuckle your trousers.

“Please. Like you weren’t stripping me with your eyes.”

If you were warm before you, you're boiling up now. Were you being so obvious?

“It’s alright,” he reassures as you feel his fingers make contact with the crotch of your panties, pushing in to put pressure on your clit. “Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t picked up on it.”

You feel his fingers push the dampening fabric away as his fingers make contact with your hole, coating his fingers in the arousal that’s made itself known. It’s hard to not hiss at the way he begins to circle it, thanking the universe that the loud noises of the workshop outside were masking whatever evidence of the heinous crime you were committing inside.

Back against the couch in his office, you settle into the cushions once you feel him rub at your clit, one hand spreading your lips apart as he continues to massage your own wetness onto your throbbing cunt.

When he retreats you almost cry out, but are smothered when he plunges two fingers into your hole instead, curling them almost immediately inside you. The consistent brush of the tips of his fingers on your walls are making it difficult to keep your eyes open, and absolutely impossible to keep your moans at bay.

“Wonwoo, that’s so good, fuck.”

Through your closed eyes, you don’t note when Wonwoo gets on his knees. But you do feel him yank your trousers off entirely, and you definitely feel him place his wet mouth flush on your lower lips, sucking at your clit as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you mercilessly.

That’s all it takes for your noises to become increasingly high pitched, hands buried in his beautiful hair as he continues to pleasure you beyond imagination.

“I’m so close, keep going, please, it feels so–”

He somehow buries his face in deeper, sucking harder, licking faster, and it’s enough for you to finally feel yourself collapsing on the inside, your composure dissolving as you moan so loud you’re sure they can hear it outside, even through all the clanging and revs of cars.

There’s no way for you to know how long you lay there slumped against the couch cushions, but when you hear Wonwoo speak to you in your ear, you answer.

“Was that okay?”

“More than okay,” you say as you grab his face and pull his lips to yours, tasting the tang in his mouth from your arousal. “Do you have a condom?”

“I–fuck,” he thinks for a moment. “I don’t think I do.”

You try not to feel too disappointed, but you sigh into his mouth anyway.

“Can I fuck your thighs?” you hear him ask, and you might have just orgasmed again, untouched.

“Fuck, yes you can.”

With a yelp, you feel yourself lifted off the couch as you wrap your arms around Wonwoo’s neck, letting him guide you to his desk. “Wonwoo!”

You hear a loud crash of the desk being stripped of all its inhabitants, and your back hitting the cool of the table top.

Wonwoo unties the arms of his overalls around his waist, letting the legs pool to the floor before slipping his hard cock out of his boxers.

You don’t see it as you feel him lock your knees together and lift both your calves to rest on one of his shoulders. But you do feel it as he pushes the head into the seam of your thighs, watching the indent as the pink of his dick appears before you through the skin of your thighs.

Wonwoo’s face is contorted as he pulls back and pushes back through again, this time brushing against your still sensitive clit. You gasp at contact, and immediately feel him thrusting faster.

“Wonwoo,” you grunt. “Lower.”

He obliges, pushing his dick lower so it can rub flush against your clit as he begins to roughen up his pace.

You moan as you feel his free hand that isn’t holding your legs trail to the ends of your shirt, caressing over your stomach to pull it up and reveal your bra clad tits. He pushes his hands under the nearest cup and begins to grope you so wonderfully with his big, warm hands. Rolling the bud between his fingers, you can only grasp onto his wrists as a handheld to keep you down on earth.

The desk beneath you is rattling with noise, the full drawers making themselves known as Wonwoo pounds into your thighs like he would die if he stopped, mouth coming in contact with whatever skin of your legs he could reach, his breath fanning the side of your knees.

You’re close again, and you know he is too with the way his thrusts are beginning to grow sloppy.

“There,” he pants. “Almost.”

You orgasm for the second time, the throb your clit beyond comprehension as the rough of his dick slides across your clit mercilessly.

“Cum like this, Wonwoo please I need to see you cum.”

And he does, shooting the heft of his load to cover your already wet cunt and thighs, landing on your stomach as he continues to ride out his high between your legs.

The back of your head hits the table as you take in gulps of air through the aftermath of it all. Wonwoo is putting his weight on the back of your thighs, holding onto the table for support.

“Oh, Liv is never gonna let me live this down,” you pant, lolling your head to one side as you register him.

He peers up at you through his hair, the stupid smirk on his face, “Do you care?”

You’re smiling a little too when you answer, “Not really.”

And then your legs are off his shoulders as he nestles between them instead, diving in to lift your head and kiss you.

And you let him, although you wouldn’t really call it too much of a kiss—not when the both of you were smiling like idiots through the clash.

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taintedcigs · 10 months

Text

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ୨ ୧ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ 𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃.

summary: in which you show your best friend the new christmas lingerie you bought for a guy, and he finally snaps and shows you how much better he is for you. (wc:2.8k+)

warnings: smut smut smut, minors DNI, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up irl), possessive!eddie, slight breeding kink, degrading, praises, kinda dom!eddie, but v soft dom/sub tones, kind of a daddy kink (its used like 2 times i can never properly do daddy kinks im stupid) no use of ‘y/n’, nicknames!

pairing: best friend!eddie munson x bratty!fem!reader

authors note: so i was just looking for christmas lingeries, and saw those bow ones that wrap around your body. and i was listening to sabrina carpenter's fruitcake ep and this was made oops. not proof-read ignore any mistakes pls or ill bite u. [EDIT: sorry for posting this a million times tumblr won't co-operate w me so i got rid of the dividers. i hope it works or im gonna bang my head against the wall.]

“Do you think Chris will like it?” You hummed, admiring yourself against the mirror, moving around with a giggle as anticipation pooled in Eddie’s tummy, his breath getting more ragged, and pants getting tighter around his relentless bulge.

Speechless.

Eddie stood speechless, gaze darkening the more he admired you, he didn’t even know which part of you he wanted to take a mental image of.

It was like you stepped from his filthiest fantasies, giggling up at him with that alluring smirk on your face. God, you had to know what you were doing to him.

The red bowknot wrapped around you perfectly, cradling your curves, tantalizing him further and further. You were his precious Christmas gift, just waiting to be unwrapped by him, and him only.

Not that stupid jock who probably couldn’t even make you cum no matter how hard he tried.

No, you needed him, you needed Eddie to unwrap you, and show you how to properly be punished for even suggesting if this was good enough for you to surprise your boy toy with.

“N-no!” He spat quickly, getting up from the comfortable way he was sprawled on your bed.

Your head cocked to face him. “W-what? Do you not like it?” You jutted out your bottom lip, and he so badly wanted to bite those plushy lips, shut you up, and show you who fucking owned you.

You had been teasing him non-stop lately, and this had been your last resort, you knew Eddie always fell for your jealous antics, but this had been too much, you knew this would finally push him off the edge, finally handle you the way you wanted to be handled, rough and possessive.

Neither of you were good at communicating your feelings, but this, this is what you were good at. And you had been wanting Eddie ever since the two of you became best friends.

There was something unspoken there, a line the two of you always wanted to cross, always handsy with each other, always too close, but never stepping over that boundary. And you were growing tired of it, the nights you spent with your fingertips circling over your clit, imagining his calloused hands, mewling for him.

And the nights, the mornings, the showers he spent, abusing his hardened cock with the images of you sprawled out for him, begging to fuck him had been torturous enough.

He deserved this, he deserved you.

This was it, and Eddie was willing to fuck over the friendship once and for all. To finally make you his.

“N-no, I like- love it.” He stammered, taking a step closer to you, “but there’s no fuckin’ way he gets you like this.”

You wanted to smirk, the excitement you felt in your tummy was unexplainable, heat pooling with a need for him as you wanted nothing more than to have him push you against the sturdy beige wall of your room, exploring you, marking you as his.

“That inexperienced asshole, doesn’t deserve you,” he spat, pushing his body closer to yours, merely inches away from you, and you nodded dumbly at his words.

“You need someone who can take better care of you, princess. That can handle you like you deserve to be handled, don’t you think?” He coos, hand dipping to the lacey bow that adorned your curves, everywhere he touches feels hot, so hot that you almost whine, just at the sensation of his rough hands.

“Do you think he knows you better than me, angel?” He tsks mockingly and you’re quick to shake your head.

“That’s what I thought too, baby…” He hums, running his fingertips over the soft fabric that barely covers your slit, “Do you think he can handle a brat like you? D’you think he can actually put you in your place like I would?”

His fingers now dance over the wrapped bow, teasingly, wanting nothing more than to unwrap it and see you fully, naked, and begging for him.

Your thighs rubbed together with need, “Honey,” he hummed dangerously close to your ear, breath fanning against your cheeks, and you melted into him, “if I unwrap you, am I going to find you soaking for me?” He pressed open-mouthed kisses down the shell of your ear, tongue striping a lick down to your throat.

The anticipation is killing you and you want to answer him, but his slight touches on your body are making it impossible, he’s fucking perfect, and could probably make you cum undone with just his words.

You whimper slightly, glossy bottom lips still jutting at him and he tsks, “Nuh-uh… baby, I thought I told you not to be a brat.”

“Use your words, sweets.”

“Yes,” You breathed, barely, eyes opening wide to see the way his amber gaze darkened.

“Yes, what?” He taunted, grip on your body getting tighter.

“Y-yes, sir,” you gulped, gauging Eddie’s reaction obediently.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he smirks under his greedy moan, quick to let his hands roam around everywhere, fingertips slipping underneath the fragile fabric barely covering your slit, he groans when he realizes just how wet you are.

“Is that all for me, baby?” He hums into your mouth, swirling your slickness inside of your clit, grinning while having no mercy on your lips, all biting and nibbling.

You’re quick to nod, breathless when he’s basically everywhere, and it isn’t long before he frustratingly unties the stupid bow getting in the way of him and you.

With a growl he almost rips it apart, tossing it aside, and his eyes widen at the sight in front of him.

“F-fuck, princess, you’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he moans needily, eyes taking in the sight of you, naked, pooling for him. Perfect tits, waiting to be sucked by him, bare ass waiting to be marked up by him, crimson red handprints would look perfect on it, he decides.

He presses his plushy lips onto yours, desperate and sucking on your tongue, while his finger slides inside of your tight cunt, other grabbing onto your breasts, and you can do nothing more than mewl for him.

Then his finger retracts from your sloppy walls, you whine at the loss and he’s quick to shove his fingers down your throat, you happily accept it, sucking greedily on his fingers, tasting yourself on his fingers, it’s all so filthy and you throb more and more for him.

His darkened amber gaze is on you, almost groaning at the way you suck on his fingers, wishing he could fuck your greedy throat with his aching cock. But not now, because fuck, he needs to be inside of you.

With a growl he wastes no time picking you up, tossing you against the bed with a soft plop, and you giggle when he settles beneath your thighs, enjoying how rough and attentive he is.

His grabby hands are everywhere, hips rolling into you, but he’s far too clothed, yet you can still feel his bulge pressing against your thigh, making your sloppy cunt clench around nothing. You’re desperate, and he feels big, so big that your mouth waters at the thought of him not fitting into your mouth, his cock stretching you out, fully.

You tug at his pants, almost signaling for him to take them off, so that he could finally be inside of you. He taunts your desperate attempt with a breathy laugh, “Patience, doll,” he tuts, voice low and gravelly, making you hum sweetly.

He wets his lip before his lips attack you again, hands giving more attention to your breasts, pinching your nipples to earn more whines out of your pouted lips, wasting no time to dive down into your aching cunt, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses all over your breasts, your stomach, and your dripping inner thighs, doing it all with a grin while he watches you shudder beneath him.

He takes his time admiring your pussy, padded thumb slightly playing with your clit as he watches your eyes squeeze shut at his movements, he groans at your lips glistening with arousal. Perfect, just fucking perfect. And he doesn’t know how much longer he can handle not being inside of you.

His cock is strained against his zipper, and it hurts, just the thought of your velvety walls engulfing him is enough to have him explode in his pants. He needs you.

“Such a perfect fuckin’ pussy,” he growls, head dipping between your shaking thighs, inhaling and tasting you once he places open-mouthed kisses on your pussy lips, and your clit, giving you all the attention you need.

“Tastes so fuckin’ sweet, too,” he hums into your walls, lapping up at your juices like a man-starved, and you’re too far gone to register anything, nodding dumbly and trashing beneath him.

“Need you to sit on my face after we’re done, baby,” he purred. “But I need to fuck you now, doll, need to feel this tight cunt wrapped around my cock, yea?” He pulls back slightly, and you pout at the sudden loss of contact, it makes him grin, knowing how desperate you are for him.

Frustrated, and restrained, he unbuckles his belt quickly, even quicker to take off his boxers, with a hiss, his cock slaps against his stomach, your eyes widening with it.

No wonder you felt his bulge against your ass every time he passed by you, his cock slightly brushing against your ass, making you whimper quietly. No wonder you always felt the need to rub your thighs together when he wore those slutty grey sweatpants, he was packing.

Slightly curved to the left, thick, and deliciously beading with pre-cum, his angry crimson red tip faced your inner thighs, you nearly whined at the sight. “S-so big,” you murmured, doe-eyes looking up at him with so much promise.

“I’m going to treat you the way you deserve to be treated,” he grins up at you. “Gonna ruin you for everyone else, sweetheart.” You whine at that, his possessiveness slicking your thighs further as if that was even possible.

“P-please,” you looked up at him, desperate.

He tugs at his cock at your mewls, teeth drawing on his bottom lip at you. All sprawled out for him, legs spread apart, glistening pussy greedily waiting for his cock.

He reaches for the condom but you’re quick to stop him. “No, no. ‘M on the pill,” you murmured. He nearly groans at your words. The thought of fucking you raw, feeling your walls hug him sweetly shoots pleasure through his entire body.

“P-please, sir, wanna feel you,” you cry out, nearly wailing, glossy eyes looking down at him, pleading.

And who’s he to deny you?

“Want to feel you inside, fully, been waitin’ for this so long, Eds.” He groans at that, his cock aching, wanting to spill his load inside of you.

“Already, beggin’ honey?” A teasing throaty chuckle escapes his lips, he’s more than amused, letting just the tip of his fat cock tease over your entrance, pre-cum smearing all over your throbbing clit.

“Mhmm,” you unashamedly moan. “I need you, been spendin’ too much time, touching myself to the thought of you, your cock… Need you to stretch me, ruin me, wanna be yours so badly,” you whined, voice cracking as you desperately thrashed beneath him, his teasing making you pathetic and dumb.

That’s all he needed to hear before he slammed inside of you with a rough thrust, he couldn’t help himself, knowing that he could’ve had you all this time, made you his, and you were fucking touching yourself to the thought of him?

He was about to lose it, and you were quick to cry out at his size, your tight walls trying to accommodate his fat cock, feeling him stretching you fully.

“F-fuck!” He gritted through his teeth, holding onto your hips with a bruising hold. Your whines and your pussy clamping around his cock was enough to send him into a frenzy, wanting nothing more than to fill you up.

“Eds, t-too much,” you wail out, glossy eyes looking up at him.

“Ssshh, I know, baby, I know,” he coos condescendingly, making you whine more. “But you can handle it, can’t you, princess?” He bit on your bottom lip with a grin, “Look how well this greedy cunt is pullin’ me in,” he thrusts further into you with a groan.

You cry out at the intrusion, welcoming the way the slight pain turns fully into pleasure, his cock driving into you with such force that you can almost feel him everywhere. “See? Such a good girl f’me, mmpf, just like that, honey,” he praises, flutters fill your stomach and heat rushes to your cheeks.

He’s so perfect and you’re so proud to be his good girl. His padded thumb is quick to find its way to your clit, circling it gently to elicit more pretty whines from you. “This is mine, now.”

With a groan, “you’re all mine.” He continues to gloriously pump into you, enjoying the way you look so fucked out, his fingertips rubbing against your clit, you feel so full, so fucking full. Eyes lulling the more his cock dives deeper into you.

“All yours, daddy,” you breathe, not realizing what you just said, it makes Eddie hiss loudly as his movements pick up, eyes rolling to the back of his head with a delicious growl spilling from his lips.

You’re going to be the fucking death of him.

“P-princess, fuck, Jesus fuckin’, you can’t just say shit like that to me,” He spills out through gritted teeth, enjoying the way you move your hips against him, desperate for more friction.

“Look at you, shit,” Eddie groaned, pressing his thumb into your clit with more pressure, circling it with a grin, cock hitting that spongey spot deliciously while your back arched in pleasure.

Babbles, and incoherent pleas left your lips, and Eddie grinned at the way you looked so cockdrunk on him, clenching around his cock, letting him know that you were getting closer.

“Such a whore for me, aren’t ya?” He mocked, rough hands squeezing your cheeks as he made you look at him, “Love the way you go so dumb on me, pretty girl, not a single thought in that lil’ head of yours, only my cock, isn’t that right?”

Your breathing picks up at his words, orgasm pooling in your tummy, you know you’re about to lose it soon, “Daddy, please,” you whimpered, not even knowing what you were begging for, it was all too much, his filthy words, his thumb on your clit, the way he was deep inside of your walls, hitting spots you didn’t know that existed.

He growls at that, sinking further into you, “I know, baby,” he murmurs into your heated skin, reveling in the way you claw at his back, freshly manicured nails marking him. “You wanna cum, pretty girl? Go ahead, and cream my cock like the good girl you are, hmm?” His hold on your hips was rough, his other hand still circling your swollen clit, hips smacking against yours with such force that you were sure you were entirely gone now.

“Come with me, Daddy,” Is what you managed to slip past your lips before you couldn’t handle it anymore, head falling back, mouth forming into a perfect ‘o’ shape, you felt that tight coil snap in your tummy, making your vision blurry as you sobbed beneath him.

Your pussy squeezed and gripped his cock deliciously and with one more of his hips rutting into you, your orgasm was quick to trigger his. “Shit, gon- gonna fuck my load into you, angel.” He growled through gritted teeth, thrusts becoming shallow.

“Gonna fill you with so much cum that y-you won’t get it outta you for days, f-fuck!”

“Feel s-so fuckin, good, baby, shit, shit, shit!” He grunted, and finally spilled his load inside of you with a loud groan, painting your overstimulated walls, cock twitching inside of you as his groans mixed with yours.

Breathless, fucked out, and just a little sated, he was quick to slip out of you only when he made sure your pussy milked him dry and that every single drop was inside of you.

Both of you struggled to come down from your highs, all those years of pent-up sexual frustration too much to even sate.

“We’re nowhere near done,” Eddie hummed breathlessly, his head cocking toward you.

With a smirk, you turned to him. “Oh, yeah?” You quirked a brow, excitement, and pleasure were quick to pool at your tummy.

“Mmmhmm, still need to punish you for that whole Chris thing, princess. Even though it worked,” He gave you a hearty chuckle, “Don’t think you can tease me like that and get away with it, pretty girl.”

“And what did you have in mind?”

“Those Christmas lights you hung up on that tree,” He pointed toward the giant tree, decorated with lots of flashy lights.

“I’ve heard they were a really good substitute for ropes, hmm? And the best form of punishment for bratty girls,” he grinned wickedly, attacking your lips again without giving you a chance to breathe.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fics #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagines

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avis-writeshq · 7 months

Note

heyyy omg I love your writings so much! congrats on your latest milestone, it's DESERVED 👏 can I pls request track one with spencer reid where he gets an epiphany and decides that he wants to propose to his girlfriend? just superrrr cute and fluffy 😍 thanks a lot!!

glue song – spencer reid

summary: “but you’re here, and so i love you.” in which spencer realises that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. pairing: s5!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: established relationship, fluff warnings: spencer in a knee brace (tell me why that’s attractive. why does he look good at his worst. face card never declines), he’s genuinely obsessed with you, not proof read oops a/n: thank you so much anon !!!! i’m so sorry it took so long to post; i kept changing and editing it hahaha i hope you enjoy it !! wc: 1.05k

“Careful watch your– no, pivot a little, pivot–”

“I am pivoting! There’s nowhere to pivot to! Why is it so messy?”

You suppress a grimace as you manage to somehow squeeze your way through Spencer’s tiny doorway and into his apartment, the shoe rack on the side dangerously close to his damaged knee. You stumble a little as Spencer grips your shoulders tightly for support, his other hand holding onto a crutch.

“Maybe we should move into a bigger apartment,” you muse, helping him to the couch. Your gaze shifts to his injured knee, your face falling. “Does it hurt?”

“Only when I think about it. Which is pretty much all the time,” Spencer says, wincing as he finally collapses against the cool leather cushions. “Thank you for doing this.”

You look almost offended at his words as you brush his hair out of his face and into a makeshift ponytail. “Did you think that I wouldn’t?”

He hums as he feels the way your fingers pull lightly at his hair, your nails scraping against his scalp. “Thought you’d get tired of me. After, you know, everything.”

“None of that was your fault,” you remind him swiftly. “This–” you gesture to his knee– “isn’t either.”

He softens, leaning his cheek on your shoulder. You’ve been there for him through everything and he knows what specifically it is you’re referring to. He could see it from the moment his doctors informed you that he wouldn’t take the vicodin they had prescribed to him to soothe his discomfort. His thought process makes sense; he didn’t want to risk it. Regardless, he was left with a growing pain in his leg that didn’t shake even after taking toradol.

“I’d never get tired of you,” you clarify, squeezing his hands. “You’re too pretty to get tired of.”

He lets out a proper laugh as he squeezes back. “You’re funny.”

“I’m being serious!”

He laughs again, shaking his head adamantly. “Liar.”

“When have I ever lied to you?”

Spencer beams in your direction, pressing kisses against the soft of your jaw. “You’re right.”

A triumphant smile spreads across your face at his words. “Exactly.”

***

From his spot on the couch, Spencer watches guiltily as you hustle and bustle about in the kitchen, grabbing plates and filling them to the brim with the food you ordered from the Chinese place he loves. He feels bad seeing you work so hard looking after him; especially when you have your own workload to take care of. He doesn’t even notice that you’ve already placed his portion of food in front of him until you whack him lightly on his head with some napkins.

“Stop it. I know what you’re thinking.” You shoot him a half-hearted glare as you snap open your chopsticks. “I want to do this. I truly don’t mind.”

“You’re already doing so much,” he insists, “I’m okay, angel, I swear.”

You are not easily convinced and you point to the list of things the doctor suggested you to do in order to ensure Spencer’s speedy recovery. “I have a responsibility, Walter. What will your team do without you?”

“They’ll live,” he assures, reaching a hand out to massage the muscles by your shoulders. “I think you’ve seen me naked more the past two weeks than you have our entire relationship.”

“Well it’s not my fault that you need to bathe,” you argue, stabbing at your noodles. “You love it really.”

His cheeks burn with embarrassment at the accusation. “I do not! It’s humiliating.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you soothe, smiling at him. “Besides, it’ll only be like this for a little while longer.”

“If you consider five months to be ‘a little while longer’,” he quips as he shovels food into his mouth.

You let out a laugh, not finding offence is his sarcastic blow. He thinks you’re a blessing and he figures that you definitely are. Who else can deal with the problems of him being, well, him aside from you? Spencer doesn’t know what he would do without you. How could he when you manage to push all the darkness and negativity away?

“I’m lucky to have you,” he says finally, his gaze on your face. “You’re so good to me.”

You hum in response, wiping your mouth and curling into his good side, draping an arm over his middle. “That’s true. You’re good to me, too.”

He brings his hand over your waist and kisses the side of your face in an act of reciprocation. “You’re beautiful.”

Heat crawls up your neck to your ears at the sudden compliment and you can’t help the silly bashful smile that pulls at your lips. Your mouth opens and closes, deciding on what to respond with before you settle with a simple, “Thank you.”

It’s the honest truth. There’s a look about you that tells him that you don’t believe it, but he doesn’t say anything more to try and convince you. He tells it to you everyday; he’s sure that you’ll end up accepting the compliments more readily. Your being beautiful might have been what had drawn him to you in the first place. Although he isn’t entirely sure. He recalls a certain folktale about invisible stings and how it was tying him to you. There’s something pretty about that thought, the mere idea that you were made for him and he was lucky enough to actually hold you in his arms.

You’ve turned the television on now, a romance movie playing on the screen with familiar actors. It’s supposed to be a comedy, at least that was what the description on the DVD said, about the main male lead reminiscing about his year that he spent with some manic pixie dream girl. Spencer doesn’t understand how that could be comedic but you seem to enjoy it.

Spencer has tuned out the movie now, finding entertainment in the reactions you have. Your face morphs into different emotions with each dramatic scene and in that moment Spencer realises one very important thing.

“I’m gonna marry you one day,” he whispers, his breath tickling the shell of your ear.

“What was that?” you ask obliviously and you lift your eyes to look up at him.

“Nothing,” he dismisses, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Just keep watching the movie, angel.”

reblogs are always appreciated!

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lqveharrington · 10 months

Text

Silver Roses & Fallen Snow

PROLOGUE (masterlist for series)

summary: You and Coriolanus Snow having been dating, but your father disapproves of it, leading to an Ultimatum. Will the deal be secured? Or will the 10th Annual Hunger Games ruin it all?

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

warnings: (proof read once !!) mentions of death, you and Coriolanus being oblivious, fluff, twinge of jealousy, angst, italics are flashbacks, (let me know if i missed any !!)

word count: 2k +

a/n: it’s been too long since i’ve written something. let’s hope this series does well :)

You and Coriolanus were given an ultimatum. Well, more like Coriolanus was given an ultimatum.

Ever since you were born, your father and mother wanted the best for you. Especially your father. Being born in a family belonging to the Capitol, you were already lucky, in a way. You were essentially being given everything on a silver platter. However, you were always in an optimistic mindset, even when the first Rebellion started. Your mother was the one keeping your family happy and looking on the bright side, but when she died during the Rebellion, your father completely shut the world out, including his own daughter. When the world returned to a sort of functionality, the first Hunger Games started up. As an eight-year-old with no mother, you relied on yourself and the help your father hired around the manor. Heading to school, you walked with your caretaker and occasionally the Snows joined you.

Your family used to be close with the Snow family. You remember them coming over for dinner parties and playing with their only son, Coriolanus Snow. It wasn’t until your father heard about what happened to them in the war he left them behind as the Capitol built up again. You, of course, always stood by the Snows. You visited them as much as possible growing up and when you reached Academy, you and Coriolanus became closer than ever.

“What are you doing, Coryo?” You ask, chin propped on his shoulder.

He smiled at you, “I’m trying to write my paper for English, but you are so distracting.”

You frown jokingly, “Sucks for you, I finished mine already.”

“Nice to know.” He murmured as he scribbled down a few more sentences.

You watched him for a bit before getting up, walking out of his room to find his cousin. You were always interested in her amazing skill for clothing, but another thing was on your mind at the moment.

“Tigris?” You call out, finding her sitting at the table at the front. She hummed in response, carefully hand sewing a beautiful dress. “I need advice.”

“About?”

“Well…” You take a seat across from her. “You’re a senior, right?”

“Mhm.” She pulled her dress up, looking a bit closer. You watch her focus shift from the dress to you after she placed her materials down. “What’s up?”

“You’ve like, you know… Dated someone… Right?”

“Where are we going with this conversation?” Tigris rested her head in her hands, watching your face redden. “Maybe I know where this is going. Do you like him?”

You flushed and looked down at the table. “Him who?”

“Don’t be scared, Y/N. What am I going to do? Tell my stubborn cousin? He won’t believe a word I say the second I mention your name.” Tigris spoke with an airy voice.

“Well—”

Coriolanus walked in, placing his hands on your shoulders. “I finished my paper, it didn’t take long.”

“Hey, Coryo.” Tigris smiled with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Hi?”

“Did you know that your lovely little flower, here, likes—“

“Tigris!” You glare at the seventeen-year-old. “You said you wouldn’t.”

“Oops.” She stood, wiping her dress from invisible dirt. “But, you know, out of curiosity… Coryo, do you like someone at school?”

Pink dusted his cheeks as he glanced down at you before looking at his cousin. “No.”

She squinted her eyes at him, “No?”

He shook his head, refusing to meet yours or Tigris’ eyes. She hummed and got close to both of you.

“My advice, ask them out before someone else does.”

As you both got older with the passing time, your crush on him intensified and vice versa. Tigris always asked if either one of you asked the other out, but you both always said no. On your sixteenth birthday, he asked you to be his girlfriend, which was during your third year in the Academy. Around that time, you became better acquainted with those in your class. Coryo would get jealous, but ever so subtly. Even if that meant leaving mid conversation with another one of your friends just to talk to you.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N!” Sejanus nudged your shoulder, handing you a small present.

“Thank you, Sej.” You take the gift and lightly put it in your bag. “I’ll open it later, I have a—“

“Hey, beautiful. Can I steal you?” Coriolanus appeared by your left, nodding at Sejanus.

“Coryo, I was just talking too—“

“No no, go ahead. I just wanted to give you your present.” Sejanus smiled.

“If you say so. I’ll talk to you later!” You call out to him, letting Coryo link your hands together. “I was busy.” You gave a joking pout.

“Yeah, well, I needed your attention.” He pulled you away, near the few cherry trees remaining at the Capitol. His tone sent an unpleasant shiver down your spine, but you pushed the thought away as he sat you down on a concrete bench.

“Okay, what is it?” You cross your arms and legs, looking up at him. “I promised my father I’d come straight home today.”

Coriolanus dug through his bag before handing you a small, rectangular box. You carefully took it from his hands, pulling at the small bow. You gasped at the contents of the box, a silver necklace with a rose pendant hanging at its center.

“Coryo… It’s gorgeous.” You gently took the necklace out of its container, taking a closer look. “How did you…?”

“I may or may not have found some odd jobs around the poorer parts to get money for this.” He shrugged.

You clutch the necklace in your right hand and give him the brightest smile you could muster. “I love it. I really do… Help me put it on?”

He took the necklace from your hand and unclasped it, adjusting it to your liking.

“You didn’t need to get this for me, you know? I like our usual birthday hang outs.” You say, feeling the cold from his hands emit onto your neck.

“I wanted to.” He clasped the necklace back together, bringing his head near your own. “You deserve the world.”

You turn your head, face millimeters away from his own. Your eyes flicker down to his lips before back to his piercing blue eyes which had done the same. Coriolanus held your face with his left hand, rubbing your cheek.

“Can I?” He whispered to you, earning a nod.

He pulled you close to him, planting a soft kiss to your lips. You smiled into the kiss, placing your hand on his chest.

Quickly running out of air, you parted from him, eyes fluttering open to see him. You looked at his lips and lightly laughed, rubbing your thumb on his bottom lip.

“Have I got something?” He asks, voice slightly breathy.

You hum, “Just a bit of my lipstick on your lips, nothing major.”

He rolls his eyes and pulls you into another kiss, this time, his free hand was on your waist. You made a sound of surprise before melting into the kiss as well, messing with the fabric in his suit.

“Be my girlfriend.” He says in between kisses as you ended up on his lap. “Please.”

“Of course.” You separated yourself from him, taking heavy breaths. “Of course, I’ll be your girlfriend, Coriolanus Snow.”

“Then I’ll gladly be your boyfriend, Y/N Lovett.” He placed one last kiss on your lips. “Now, how much lipstick is on my face?”

“A lot.” You giggle, resting your forehead against his.

Over the next few months, you told Grandma’am and Tigris that you started dating. Both were happy, but Tigris especially. She would ask about your dates and occasionally made you dresses for them.

Yet, when your father found out about you dating Coriolanus, he simply disapproved. He hated the idea that you were dating someone from a family with no money, no more power to their name. Of course, no one else knew that except Dean Highbottom and your family.

Everyday was the same battle with your father. He always commented on your behavior after learning you were with the young Snow and refused to accept the fact that you two were dating without any benefits for his own family name.

Therefore, the ultimatum was created.

“You must tell Tigris to stop making me dresses.” You fiddle with the bow on the strap.

“Do you not like them?” He squeezes your hand, the warm breeze of the summer hitting the both of you.

You shake your head, “No! No, I love them. But I don’t think she should be spending all these resources on me. I offer to pay, but she won’t—“

“You don’t need to pay. You never do.” He stops your pace, looking into your eyes.

“Coryo…” You sigh, looking around you. Deeming it was safe, you continued. “You and I both know she shouldn’t be making these for me without pay. I should at least help pay for some of the—“

“Hey hey, look at me.” Coriolanus took your face with both of his hands. “You don’t have to pay for us at all. Don’t worry about it.”

“But—“

“Get your hands off my daughter, Snow.” Your father demanded as he came out of the manor, both you and Coryo jumping at the man’s voice.

‘Sorry.’ You mouthed to your boyfriend, forgetting you were walking back to your home.

Your father clicked his tongue, “Come inside, we haven’t got all day.”

You hurry your steps to the porch of the manor, your father waiting for who knows what.

“You too, Mr Snow.” He beckoned the platinum blond over. “I doubt you don’t want to hear this conversation involving my daughter and your… Relationship.”

Your steps faltered at his words but you followed the butler into the living area, supposedly where your father wanted to discuss something. You sat on the lovers sofa as Coriolanus walked in with your father second. You gave a subtle gesture for him to sit next to you. Coryo took long strides to sit by you, still leaving a good amount of room because of your father.

“Tea?” He asked the both of you as the help walked in with a tray.

“Thank you, Em.” You take a cup of tea from her, setting it to the side.

“No, thank you.” Coriolanus waved her off a bit, hands kept to himself.

“Right.” Your father sat up straight on the couch opposite of you both. “About your relationship.”

A few beats pass.

“You both are comfortable with one another and that’s fine. But, Mr. Snow, you really aren't of any value to us at the moment.”

Your hand flexes at your side, suddenly angered by your father’s poor choice of words.

“Maybe, before the Rebellion, yes. But now, the Snows are nothing but rags disguised as designer material.”

“Is there a point to this, father?” Your eyes bore into his.

“Ah, yes. You see, I wouldn’t mind your relationship with my daughter at all if you were to somehow make your way back up. Let’s say, winning the Plinth prize. You win, I allow you to date my daughter. You lose, well, she’ll be arranged to marry another who will benefit the Lovett name.” Your father spoke with such a demeaning manner.

“Father, that’s not—“

“I’ll do it.” Coryo cuts you off, earning a wide eyed look from you. “I agree to those terms, sir.”

“Very well. May the odds be in your favor, Mr. Snow.” He got up, taking his leave. “Oh, and Y/N?”

You look at your father, a permanent scowl on your face.

“I advise you to look for other suitors before I pick for you.”

Your father finally left the two of you, your eyes snapping to the blond next to you.

“Coriolanus Snow. Are you out of your mind? Where has your brain gone?” You smack his chest in between every word before getting stopped by the male. “Let go of me!”

“You know I only agreed to it because I can do it. You know that.” He loosens his grip on your wrists. “I have healthy grades, I never miss a class.”

Your eyes gloss over, “You better win that Plinth Prize, Coryo.”

Coryo cradles your head with his hands, kissing the top of your head. “I’m not losing you. I never will.”

From that day onwards, it was a constant battle for him to be the best out of the best at Academy.

After all, Snow always lands on top.

(ask for taglist in comments or dm !!)

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stellarbit · 2 months

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Unexpected Scenes

Word Count: 4.4k Pairing: fem!reader x Tech (with a side of simp Hunter oops) Warnings: unprotected piv, masturbating, voyeurism, creampie, self indulgence, simp hunter, poor proof reading Summary: Hunter is well aware of your relations with Tech, but it doesn't stop him from fantasizing about you - something Tech can sense and isn't happy about. He wasn't going to say anything about it, but things happen. a/n : save me simp hunter, save me. I don't have excuses I just have self indulgent fantasies. gif credit: @kamino-coruscant

Hunter’s speciality was sensing that which could not be seen. Whereas Tech’s was analyzing the visible without missing a single variable. Meaning, as subtle as it was, Hunter’s interest in you did not go unnoticed by Tech.

A variable that was irritating Tech.

While the brothers of Clone Force 99 accepted their fate of sharing most of life with one another, they all had things they kept for themselves. Recently, Tech was keeping you to himself.

Not in the sense that your interactions were isolated to him, but in the way that he knew a side of you the others didn’t. A condition he wanted to maintain for the foreseeable future.

Emotionally, he delved deeper with you than he had with anyone outside of his circle. Physically, you’d allowed him to experience ecstasy for the first time. While it was an exhilarating experience and an activity he didn’t regret, he found he was just as content exchanging quiet conversation with you. Perhaps moreso.

Although he would admit that the satisfaction of bringing you to completion did swell a very male side of him. That feat is the biggest thrill for Tech.

One that was instantly surpassed when Hunter caught Tech with his hands in your clothes. You’d failed to notice Hunter, but he watched you cumming on his brother’s fingers.

Since then, Tech kept a keen eye on Hunter’s every exchange with you. It wasn’t so much that he feared Hunter would overstep; it was more about the possessiveness that had begun to root itself deep within him.

The brothers never spoke of the instance, but Hunter’s softened approach with you and his new habit of touching the small of your back almost drove Tech to break the silence more than once.

The tipping point came when you arrived at Cid’s seeking assistance from the Batch. The Marauder was docked at the spaceport, suggesting that at least one of them should have been available to help. It turned out Tech, Echo, and Hunter were there, albeit engaged in their own activities. Echo and Tech were tucked in a booth together hunched over a datapad, and Hunter, seated at the bar with a drink, did a soft double-take as you descended the last step.

“Well, look what the tooka dragged in.” Hunter chuckled and lifted his glass to you. He caught his brother's attention, perking Tech up first.

Tech locked eyes with you first, adjusting his goggles as a soft flutter hit his chest. He recognized the smile on your face - the one reserved just for him, small and crooked to one side. He glanced at Hunter, who was now, unfortunately, witnessing it too.

Echo twisted in his seat and hooked an elbow over the back of his chair. With a short wave of his prosthetic he called over, “Hey there, trouble. What brings you in?”

“I need to hop off world to meet a client and I was hoping one of you could come along.” You explained. “He’s someone I’d rather not be caught alone with.”

Tech was elbow deep in deciphering an imperial code with Echo, a task he was not excited to step away from. Nonetheless, he agreed you should be accompanied. Sighing, Tech made to move when Hunter responded.

Slugging his drink back, Hunter slid out of his seat, saying, “Alright then, I’ll go with you.” He waved towards the stairs with a smile. “We can take the Marauder.”

Tech pushed out of his seat, quickly interrupting, “That won’t be necessary. I can-”

“No.” Hunter firmly pushed back, pointing a finger towards Echo. “You and Echo keep working on that code. I’ll take care of her.”

Hunter cutting off Tech’s access to you, knowingly or not, rippled an ugly feeling in Tech.

Tech looked at you, hoping you’d intervene, but instead, you flippantly waved your hand, “We’ll be back before you know it.” You added with a wink, “Don’t worry, your ship will be fine.”

That’s not my issue. Tech grumbled inwardly. Knowing he had no real ground to stand on Tech sat back down with a shrug, conceding a curt, “Fine.”

It was not fine. The entire time you were gone Tech weighed the likelihood of Hunter seizing the opportunity at hand. He imagined what he’d do if he’d been the one with the freedom of autopilot and privacy of space with you. He wasn’t one for lingering in fantasies, especially with a task at hand.

But he found himself preferring the imagined scenarios of what might transpire between you and him over the intrusive thoughts of what could be happening with Hunter. All of the places he’d pressed you against that Hunter could be discovering.

Meanwhile on the Marauder, Hunter was basking in your presence and the comfortable silence you brought. Of course you chatted, but the spaces between were filled with an easy peace Hunter rarely experienced. You didn’t want or demand anything from him and he was able to just think about what he wanted.

And stars did he want you. Hunter wanted you often and in every way. His mild interest in you escalated to full blown fantasizing after seeing you with Tech. He could barely think when you were near him with the scent of your orgasm coming to the forefront of his memory.

He imagined what you’d feel like squirming over his lap as you had for Tech. Did you taste as good as you smelled? He conjured the sound of his name on your tongue in his moments alone, distorting it into what it might sound like as you came for him and on him.

Reality stood in the way of that though. He wouldn’t do that to Tech. So, the most he could selfishly manage was an afternoon alone with you.

Tech’s distraction was at a dizzying high by the time he and Echo finally deciphered the code. Several hours after that, when you and Hunter had still not returned, Echo excused himself to find replacement parts for himself.

Tech’s foot tapped out a nervous rhythm until a ping from his datapad caught his attention—a signal from the Marauder’s proximity sensor. You were coming back.

He couldn’t help himself from shoving out of the booth at record speed. He took the back alleys to the Marauder’s port, ducking around corners the closer he got until his ship was in sight.

The ship let off air as the door hissed open and its stairs extended. You came out shortly after, laughing over your shoulder to Hunter, still wearing his helmet and trailing behind you. The two of you shortly chatted on the ground before you laughed again and left with a wave.

Even as you left, Hunter stood in place, watching you for far longer than Tech liked. Tech caught the way Hunter’s fists gripped a few times and his helmet tilted back. His brother took a large breath, but ultimately turned to leave.

Backing off from the scene, Tech took an educated guess on your egress and left before Hunter caught on to his spectator.

Tech made a beeline to intercept you, cutting through a maintenance room to between you and the main road. As he pulled you aside to face him, he anticipated your scream and quickly covered your mouth.

Your surprise morphed into something happier once you recognized the goggles in front of you. Pulling Tech’s hand down you giggled quietly, “Way to be a creep. What are you doing out here?”

Tech brushed right past your question, asking, “Are you headed somewhere?”

You watched him for a second, a suspicious smile creeping over you. “Not particularly.”

“In that case - follow me,” Tech said as he led you back down the alley. “I need you.”

“For what?” You called after him, tugging on his shoulder to catch up. Tech gave you a sidelong glance but remained tight-lipped.

The two of you were in silence all the way until you made it onto the Marauder. Once inside, you walked past Tech hands on hips, in the direction of the gunner’s mount. “Alright, what’s got you all-”

“I would’ve appreciated the time with you.” Tech interrupted, his voice unexpectedly close. You spun around to find him just an arm's length away.

Tech didn’t seem like the clingy type, not to mention - “You seemed busy with Echo.”

“That’s because I was.” Tech chirped matter-of-factly.

Your confused expression made Tech pause, realizing he needed to explain further. He had been busy, indeed, but the thought that he could have spent that time with you—and had been distracted by thoughts of you instead—made him reconsider his priorities.

“The code… could have waited.” His eyes glanced at the floor between, thinking for another moment. “I would’ve preferred spending the time with you.”

Tech’s unexpected softness made you stutter. You reached up to cup his cheek, saying in a light tone, “From here on out, you’re the only one for me. Besides,” You offered him that small smile he relished so much and playfully patted his cheek. “I’ll make it up to you.”

A smile ticked the corner of Tech’s mouth, accompanied by a soft hum. It wasn’t long until familiar thought crept back up.

Tech pressed a kiss into your palm. He turned away slightly, then fixed a serious gaze on you. “How was your time with Hunter?”

The shift in Tech’s tone sent a chill down your spine. Despite nothing having happened between you and the leader, Hunter had somehow become a tender subject with Tech. Tech’s hand slid over yours as he faced you once more, his expression unreadable.

You weren’t sure what answer he hoped for. Hoping for the best, you answered, “Perfectly ordinary.” You couldn’t help adding on a teasing whisper, “You wouldn’t be jealous would you, Tech?”

Tech remained silent, a flicker of something indecipherable crossing his eyes. He gently pulled your hand from his cheek and took a step toward you, causing you to instinctively step back. He advanced again, and you retreated, until you both stood between the bunks.

He leveraged his hold on you to guide you into turning with him, a pseudo dance that put your back to the cockpit of the ship. His eyes drifted beyond you again as he took on a pondering tone, “Remind me - to be jealous is to worry that someone might take something of mine.” Locking eyes with you again he finished with a lifted brow, “That is correct, isn’t it?”

You nodded, momentarily feeling like you had gained the upper hand. That sensation quickly faded as Tech’s expression shifted into a confident, knowing smile.

“In that case, no, I am not jealous,” he stated dryly, moving away to crouch down. As he peered up at you, his hand vanished under the bunk. “However, that does beg the question,” he continued, his eyes fixed on you while his hand rummaged through a few boxes, “What of mine would I be worrying someone might take?” He watched you process his question, expecting the lovely color you’d be turning

A blush flared up your neck to the tips of your ears. Was he asking for clarity or to put you on the spot? You and Tech had never outlined exactly what you were doing together.

Your fingers found their way to each other in a nervous fidgets. Through nervous laughs you only managed to stammer out, “Well, I… I thought it…”

Tech’s search hit its mark and he was on his feet again, watching and waiting for a legitimate answer. There was something about being pinned under the weight of Tech’s attention that flooded your core with heat every time.

“Me.” You finally squeaked out. “I thought you were worried about me.”

Your response drew a quick inhale from Tech as his eyes widened slightly, a little light sparking through them. “You’re saying… you’re mine?”

His bold streak inspired one of your own. “I am.” You responded with more confidence than you expected.

“I was hoping that would be your response.” Tech dropped his gaze as he slipped something into your hand. “Put this on.”

You brought the object up for inspection, a familiar piece of fabric you recognized as one of Hunter’s bandanas. Looking between the bandana and Tech, you slowly asked,“Put it on?”

“Yes, over your eyes.” Tech confirmed, pointing to the red bandana.

You gave one last, suspicious glance at Tech before obeying. As you tied the bandana over your eyes, cutting off your vision and leaving you with only the rustling of Tech’s clothes to let you know he was still nearby.

“Now,” Tech began, his voice closer than you before. “Get on the bunk.”

His hand helped you through his instruction, leading you to the bottom bunk. Hunter’s bunk. The makeshift blindfold made you miss the second pointed look Tech cast over your shoulder.

From the pilot’s seat, slumped down and regretting every step he’d made that day, Hunter hid as best he could. He’d started heading back to Cid’s after dropping you off only to doubleback to the Marauder, unable to shake his thoughts of you.

Hunter just needed enough time to sit in your lingering scent and please himself the way he ached for you to. He was lost in the thought of you perched in his lap, moaning his name and moving over him in time with his hand, when the sound of footsteps snapped him back to reality.

Frozen in place, his cock still throbbed in his fist when your voice sifted through the Marauder, sending a twitch up his length. Tech’s voice followed shortly after, forcing Hunter to bite back a frustrated groan. You’ve got to be kriffing kidding me, he cursed to himself. Hunter kept himself as motionless as possible while trying to tuck himself away.

Hearing Tech telling you to get on a bunk kicked something in Hunter’s stomach and kept him from fully concealing himself.

Tech didn’t know that Hunter would be onboard. After all, he’d watched the both of you walk away from his ship. His initial urge was to move you somewhere without an audience. Though, standing over you, blindfolded and sitting at the edge of his brother’s bunk, he decided Hunter’s presence was indeed a favorable situation.

At the very least, Tech would make good use of it.

Refraining from checking the pilot’s seat, Tech dropped to balance on the balls of his feet. You were waiting so patiently, shoulders high and lip tucked between your teeth.

“Sarad.” You jolted slightly when Tech broke the silence with his name for you, humming suggestively at his nickname for you. Your thighs squeezed together when you answered with his own name. Your anticipation was palpable.

Tech shifted forward, bridging the gap by sliding his hand up your thigh. His thumb barely grazed the apex of your thighs and you squirmed in place. Not a single one of your reactions was wasted on Tech. Every time he touched you, you gave him a new expression, a new noise. He wanted all of it.

The way you moved was affecting him more than usual, he gripped your thigh to keep from shoving you onto your back. Gripping your other thigh, Tech spread your legs to move between them.

Blindly, your hands found him, sliding up to his shoulders. Your thumbs worked into him, begging for more of his touch. It worked, Tech felt blood rush through him and his thumbs matched your rhythm.

“Typically, our approach to intimacy is measured.” Tech paused to maintain his calm. His pants were well beyond tight and the primal compulsion to strip you bare was starting to cloud his judgment. He swallowed, nerves weighing him down more than usual.

All of this was more than usual. He wanted far more than usual.

“This time I-”

“You don’t have to ask.” You cut him short.

Tech blinked at you, “You do not know what I’m asking.”

Breathing a laugh, you thumbed the bandana out of one eye. The look you gave him was heavy and drew Tech further between your legs.

“You want me, right now.” You murmured, pressing your legs into him. “So take me, Tech. Right now.”

Tech’s response wasn’t immediate, he was still trying to see reason. Your pulling the bandana back into place threw that out the door.

He moved on you, gliding his hands over your hips and hooking his fingers into your pants. With your help, your pants and undergarments were tossed aside in seconds. He’d already unclasped his pants and positioned himself between your legs by the time you fell onto your back.

Tech took one of his gloves between his teeth to yank it off at the same time you slid a hand between you. He didn’t have time to even tug on the glove when he felt his head smooth over your entrance. He’d thought he’d need saliva to begin, but your arousal proved him wrong.

He felt you drip down the length of him and that was it. Tech drove his hips into you, catching your hand to stop you from stifling your moan. He hissed as he pulled back, letting you feel every inch of him and indulging in the velvet of your insides.

“Please, don’t hold back.” Tech thrust into you again, filling you completely. “I need to hear you.”

Your arms fell back beside your head and a lazy smile lilting across you as you gave in to him. Afterwards, each of his thrusts coaxed a moan from you and in turn, he echoed you with noises of his own.

The two had been down this route before, but something was different before. His movements were harder, faster, and more desperate. His force alone was spreading warmth through you.

Tech wedged his hand under your shirt, shoving his gloved hands over your breasts. His usual gentle touch was nowhere to be seen when he pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You whined in a way he hadn’t heard before.

And apparently in a way Hunter hadn’t either.

Just your sounds alone put a rhythm back into Hunter’s grasp. Even without turning, Hunter could envision every thrust Tech made by the sounds of your bodies moving together and the sounds you made. The very sounds he imagined when alone.

They were more beautiful than he’d imagined.

The whine you made pushed him so close to his edge Hunter had to let go of himself to stop from cumming. A whine so enticing, Hunter’s feet moved without his say. His chair swiveled just enough to let Hunter catch a glimpse of the bunks.

Tech was over you, half crouched and moving his hips against you in short, hard thrusts. Hunter could just make out the cause of your whine, Tech’s working beneath your shirt, but your face was out of view. Out of view and splayed out over his bunk.

Tech’s movements slowed slightly, his head twitching as if to look towards the cockpit. Hunter almost ducked back, but Tech kept his sights on forward and, from the sounds you made, pinched your nipple harder.

Moving a hand under your back, Tech kept his fingers tight on you and pulled you upright. The sudden pressure and change in position made you reach for Tech in need for something to ground you in reality. He caught you as your arms looped around his neck and your face fell beside his, chin resting on his shoulder.

Tech stilled for only a moment to allow you to adjust to him fully seated within you. You didn’t allow that though. You gyrated your hips against him, needy and anxious for him to continue.

“Don’t stop. Please.” You pleaded.

To your displeasure, Tech removed his hand from your shirt and his cock from within you. You were whimpering for him when he ordered you, each word carefully enunciated, “Then I suggest you get on your knees.”

You didn’t question the order, eagerly following directions with his help. Tech put you on your hands and knees on the floor in front of him and facing the cockpit.

Your new position allowed Hunter to finally see your face and the bandana covering your eyes. The sight of his bandana on you created an almost painful ache that pushed a swell of pre-cum out of Hunter as he gripped himself again. From his base to the tip, he gave himself tight, slow strokes as he took in every inch of you.

For all that he could see in the moment, you appeared fully clothed again. Then Tech lifted your hips to meet his and Hunter caught a glimpse of the bare skin of your ass.

It made it so easy to imagine that it was him behind you.

Hunter was so consumed by this vision of you that it took him a second to realize something else - Tech was staring him down.

And for a moment, your pants were the only sounds in the Marauder.

Maintaining eye contact with Hunter, Tech leaned over you with one hand steadying your hip and another moving under your chin. Tech angled your head back as he brought his mouth to your ear and slid inside you once more.

Your mouth fell open, groaning as Tech stretched you again. He pushed deep inside you, pressing against your womb in a way he’d not yet explored.

He didn’t move, only allowing you to feel his cock spasming against your walls.

“Can you do something for me?” Tech pushed harder against you, testing how much of him you could withstand.

Your response was instantaneous, “Anything for you.”

Tech turned his face only enough so that his lips brushed your ear. “Imagine there was someone watching us,” Tech whispered just for you, gauging your reaction.

Had it not been for the way you constricted around him, your silence would have made Tech backpedal.

“Watching us?” Your voice fluttered as you clenched around him. Tech may have dropped his voice low enough to miss Hunter, but you had not and Tech caught the jolt of Hunter’s seat. It was exactly what Tech was aiming for.

“Precisely.” Tech purred, pivoting all his attention back on you. “Someone observing as you come undone for me.” He let go of your face and pressed his forehead into your shoulder and he slid fully out of you to sheath himself again. “Someone who thinks they might have you.”

Neither of the brothers realized the bandana across your eyes sat in a way that gave you a sliver of sight. It was only a glimpse, but you could make out the cockpit, the slightly turned pilot’s seat, and the boots in front of it. There was a shadow of a face peeking around the chair and you knew exactly who was watching.

You braced yourself on your forearms, keeping your face visible for Hunter as you leaned away from Tech. He caught your hips and yanked you back onto his cock.

“So show them who I belong to.” You shuddered as Tech ground into you.

“Oh I can do that.”

Tech wrapped his arms around around your waist, holding you in place as he fucked you into the floor. Your eyes stayed on Hunter, watching as the chair shifted slightly. He was moving in the chair and you may not have been able to see it but he was touching himself.

This was the closest Tech would let him get to you. Being on display for Hunter, vulnerable, naked, and pleading for Tech thrilled you in a way you hadn’t expected.

You began begging for more, letting your voice ring loud and clear. Moaning for Tech and the pressure building inside you. Shifting as best you could, you wormed a hand beneath you to circle your clit.

Tech knew what you were doing and knew what was coming. He moved his legs to either side of you, budging you to stand on your knees, your back flush against him.

Your view of Hunter vanished along with your resolve. You kept one hand on the bud between your legs and slipped the other one up over your shoulder to hang on Tech’s neck. He dipped his face close to you again, his eyes checking Hunter one final time.

“What was it you said earlier?” Tech panted out. “About being mine?”

Those three words almost shoved you both over the edge.

“I’m yours, Tech.” You gasped as Tech thrust up into you, angling into the soft spot that brought you to your release every time.

“Again.” He grunted on a hard thrust that finished you.

Your entire body shuddered and you cried out, “I’m yours - only yours, Tech!”

Tech had to focus on not dropping you as your words shoved him into his own orgasm. He didn’t have time to pull out, instead burying himself as far as he could and spilling out inside you.

Hunter had watched the entire scene, keeping pace with your rhythm and chasing the sounds of your moans. Multiple times he had to pace himself, hungry to finish as you did, anxious to stay quiet enough to witness it. It was the quaking of your legs and the scent of your orgasm that wrecked him.

Hunter put a hand over his head as he came, begrudgingly catching his seed before it hit the floor and gave him away.

The two of you quaked together until you collapsed back into Tech, sending you both off balance to the floor. It hadn’t been a long session, but the two of you were spent, sweaty, and panting together.

You fidgeted just enough for Tech to slide out of you and push up onto an elbow to look over you. At the angle you sat and the blindfold still in place, there was nothing stopping a stealthy exit for Hunter.

Without glancing at his brother, Tech lowered himself over you, hoping he could drown out any footsteps to come. It wasn’t necessarily an exit, or an entire event, he wanted to address. Now or ever.

Tech tended to you, speaking to you in a low voice as Hunter took the hint, tucked himself away and went for the exit. Had it not been that you were already aware of his presence, it would have been a successful endeavor.

You said nothing about it, letting the brothers keep whatever competition that was happening to themselves. You’d been truthful, you wanted nothing and no one but Tech. If he occasionally needed that validated and this was his way of getting it - you certainly weren’t complaining.

taglist: @baddest-batchers @bruh-myguy-what

#simp huter is my favorite hunter #dom tech wrecks me #i am but a feral woman #feral for clones #specifically the goggled one #the bad batch #tbb #tech #tech x reader #tbb tech x reader #tbb hunter x reader #hunter x reader #tech x you #hunter x you #star wars #fanfiction #sw

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f1goat · 1 year

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his masseur x lando norris

In which you're Lando his best friend and masseur, but your feelings start to cause a bit of trouble.

Requested: yes Warnings: small mentions of sexual content / not proof read

Tuesday - August 2022

“Maybe you can sleep in my bed this time?” Lando asks you.

You look up surprised. This is new.

“What’s wrong with the guest room?” You ask still surprised.

“Nothing!” Lando quickly exclaims, “but I’m tired but I also don’t want to stop cuddling like this. So I thought we could sleep together.. Maybe?”

You notice that Lando is rambling now. You smile at him. “That sounds great,” you say with a genuine smile.

Lando leaves his earlier position to get of the couch. You think about what’s happening. Maybe it’s weird for friends to cuddle as much as you and Lando do. Maybe it’s even weirder that you’re going to sleep in the same bed as him. But it’s not like you mind. You have been crushing on Lando forever, so every little thing you can have you take willingly.

Thursday - November 2022

“Happy birthday Lan!”

You kiss him on his cheeks. Lando pulls you even closer to him so the two of you can hug properly. After a bit you release yourself from his hug so you can give him his present. You hand him over the present you carefully wrapped with an orange wrapping paper. You watch how Lando unties the golden ribbons.

His face lits up when he sees the present. You smile as well from his happy reaction. It’s safe to say he loves the new microphone you got him. It’s themed with everything he likes. The Quadrant logo and colors are covering the stand part, while the mic itself is a bit more McLaren themed.

“I thought you could use a new one for your streams,” you tell him.

“You’re amazing!” Lando exclaims enthusiastic. He pulls you closer to himself again. It doesn’t take more then a few seconds before he’s hugging you once again.

“I love it,” he tells you softly, “You know me the best!”

Sunday - December 2022

“Finally a well deserved break,” Lando says.

You nod. “You were amazing this season,” you tell him.

Lando smiles gratefully. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” he tells you even more grateful.

“Don’t say that,” you say quickly, “It was all you. I’m just massaging you.”

“I’m glad you’re on my team,” Lando says, “so I might have a tiny surprise to thank you for that.”

“A tiny surprise?” You ask.

“I booked us a hotel here, so we can spend a week together. We can do some fun things! Like exploring the city and go buggy riding in the desert.”

“That’s not a tiny surprise,” you tell him while laughing.

“Oops,” Lando just says.

“Are you thanking everyone on your team like that?” You ask.

“I send the rest a nice thank you card,” Lando replies.

You laugh.

Sunday morning - January 2023

“I can’t wait to spend the whole year with you again,” Lando softly says. The clock just stroke midnight. Lando is sitting next to you on the couch. You’re with friends, but everyone is busy with wishing each other a happy new year. Something you should do as well, but you’re enjoying your small private moment with Lando.

“Me too Lan,” you say, “and a happy new year to you!”

“Happy new year!” Lando replies happily.

He comes closer to you. You want to press a kiss to his cheek, like you always do with friends while wishing them a happy new year. Lando seems to have the same idea. You don’t know how it happend, but in some way Lando his lips end up on yours.

“Oh fuck,” you say.

It didn’t even last two seconds, but it feels like an eternity.

“Sorry!” Lando quickly says.

“It doesn’t matter Lan, nothing happened. I’m going to wish the others a happy new year as well.”

Lando watches you when you walk away. He sighs. “Yeah, nothing happened. Just my feelings for you,” he mutters annoyed.

Thursday night - February 2023

“Thanks for picking me up,” you tell Lando.

“It’s nothing, how was the date?” Lando asks you.

You sigh. “Since I texted you a few hours earlier then we discussed I think you can conclude that it was bad.”

“I don’t get it. Why do you keep going on dates with types like this?” Lando asks you.

“I don’t know either,” you sigh. You think about who you really want. The guy next to you who’s currently driving you home in his McLaren. Lando is silent, he’s thinking about how it shouldn’t feel this way. Every time he picks you up he’s happy that your date didn’t go well. He can’t be like this. His jealousy is rising up way too much recently.

“I think I’m going to stop dating for a while,” you tell Lando after a bit of silence, “Maybe I’m not ready yet,” you add.

Lando can’t stop himself from smiling. It’s insane how relieved he feels suddenly.

Friday night - March 2023

“Would it be weird if we kissed?”

You look up at Lando. Does he even know what he’s asking you right now? It’s not like you can blame him right now. He’s drunk. But still, you let out a small sigh when you think about his question. Yes it would be weird, but you wouldn’t care about that.

“I kinda want to kiss you,” Lando continues.

Butterflies are all over the place inside of you. You don’t have to check the rear mirror in Lando his car to find out your cheeks are red. You feel flustered. You try to focus on driving, but Lando is making it hard for you. For the second time that evening you remind yourself about Lando his condition. He’s drunk. Carlos and Max texted you before to warn you and when you picked up Lando you quickly noticed it as well. You can’t take his words serious right now, he’s drunk.

“You’re drunk Lan,” you tell him after doubting for a bit, “but yes, it probably would be weird. We have been friends forever.” You don’t tell him that you don’t mind the weird aspect. You also don’t tell him about your feelings from the last years for him.

“If you say so,” Lando sighs.

You hope Lando doesn’t asks questions like this again. Or not like this. He can ask questions like this, but not when he’s drunk and his words are meaningless.

Saturday morning - March 2023

“Fuck,” Lando grunts, “That was just what I needed.”

You release a bit off the harsh pressure you used earlier. Slowly you massage further. Since you graduated last year, you’ve become Lando his personal masseuse. You’ve been lucky when McLaren hired you for it. Since then you join Lando and his - and your - team to every race. Meaning you can spend a lot of time with Lando.

“I thought so,” you tell Lando smilingly.

Lando lets out a soft moan. Something that can give you weird butterflies sometimes, but now you’re getting used to it. It’s just because your massaging him.

“You seemed pretty drunk last night,” you add.

“Oh god,” Lando grunts, “Please don’t remind me. I have no memories left. Sorry that you needed to pick me up like that.”

You let out a soft disappointed sigh. You already expected this, but still. It would be nice if Lando remembered what he told you last night. It’s nothing new. Things like this happen way too often.

“It doesn’t matter Lan, that’s what friends do,” you tell him to comfort him.

“Hm, friends yeah,” Lando sighs.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

Lando doesn’t really respond anymore. You put a bit more pressure on his abs while massaging him. While you do so you think about multiple weird situations you had with Lando.

“Maybe we can have a night in tonight? After qualifying,” Lando suggests after a bit. “We can watch some movies or something, whatever you like,” he adds.

“I kinda planned a selfcare night,” you tell Lando, “but maybe we can combine it?”

“I’m in,” Lando tells you happily.

“Great!”

Saturday - April 2023

“Y/n, it’s time for my massage.”

You look up surprised. Lando is standing in front of you and Pierre. What is he talking about? You just massaged him earlier. You’re free for the rest of the day.

“Let’s talk further another time,” Pierre tells you.

You just met him. He seemed nice. Maybe you can finally find some other friends on the grid as well?

“That sounds great,” you tell Pierre excited.

You almost start to think that Lando lets out a scoff, but you’re probably wrong. You walk closer to Lando and he takes you with him to his drivers room.

“I already massaged you Lan, what was that about?” You ask him confused.

“I just got a bit of pain in my shoulder,” Lando mutters.

“Okay, can you pull of your shirt?”

When Lando feels your hands on his painless shoulders, he feels happy again. Maybe it was childish, but he didn’t see another way to get you away from Pierre and back to himself.

What’s going on with him?

Wednesday - May 2023

“I think I’m in love with y/n.”

“No shit,” Max sighs, “It took you forever to find out.”

Lando looks at his friend. Was he that transparant?

“So when will you tell her?” Max asks.

“Never!” Lando says quickly. He almost shouts. “What do you think that’ll happen? She doesn’t return my feelings, everything will become awkward and then I will lose her.”

“For fuck sake,” Max sighs, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Max, you have to keep this a secret,” Lando almost begs, “I can’t lose y/n.”

“You’re such an idiot.”

Saturday - June 2023

“Fuck, that feels amazing,” Lando moans.

You slowly apply more pressure to his body. Your hands roam around Lando his necks and shoulders carefully. When you come closer to his neck, Lando can’t withhold another soft moan. You start to feel the well known butterflies flatter around in your body.

Lando doesn’t stop. He keeps letting out soft sounds that show you exactly what you’re doing to him. After a bit you notice that you’ll get an even bigger reaction when you massage him on a specific spot close to his neck. You can’t help yourself and don’t stop touching him there. Can it be his sweet spot? You wonder what will happen when you let your lips touch his neck right on that spot. Fuck, you shouldn’t think like this.

“Can you lie down on your back Lan?” You ask a bit later.

Lando shuffles a bit, but he doesn’t move to lie down on his back. You wonder what’s going on.

“Lan?” You ask.

“Give me a few minutes,” Lando tells you.

“Is something wrong? You need to tell me if you feel uncomfortable or painful when I do something,” you say.

“No!” Lando quickly replies, “It’s far from wrong.”

You don’t get it at first, but then Lando lies down on his back. You notice the bulge that formed itself in his pants. Lando doesn’t look at you. Something that comes in quite handy right now, because you’re smile isn’t really professional anymore.

Sunday - July 2023

Lando his qualifying at Silverstone went amazing. He got the second place and that as his home race. This is amazing. Currently the two of you are laying on the couch. You’re feeling relaxed while spending time like this with Lando.

“Maybe I can massage you a bit?” Lando suggests, “Reverse the roles for once.”

“That seems nice.”

Lando helps you to find a comfortable position on his lap. His hands slowly find your shoulders. He’s quick to apply a bit of pressure on them. You let out a soft sigh of relaxation. It’s been way too long since someone massaged you. That’s the disadvantage of being a masseur, everyone always expects you to massage them and not the other way around.

“How does this feel?” Lando asks you.

It feels like his hands are touching you everywhere at once. You haven’t felt this relaxed in a long time. He’s slowly massaging your neck and you can’t stop yourself from letting out a soft moan.

“Like you should do this more often,” you answer Lando jokingly.

You don’t tell him that you already feel yourself getting wet. Fuck. Why does he have to have such big, strong hands? That also feel insanely good on your body?

***

A few hours and a movie and some YouTube video’s later you’re still laying against Lando. The two of you are cuddled up on the couch in your hotel room. Lando plays with your hair while he focuses on the television in front of him. You can’t seem to focus anymore. Your mind keeps filling up with thoughts about Lando.

“I’m glad you’re on my team,” Lando tells you suddenly, “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“You’re the one who’s racing this good,” you reply.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando says slowly, “but I couldn’t have done any of this without your support. It means the world to me that you’re always here.”

“There’s no place where I would be rather.”

“Promise me you’re in for a long time?” Lando asks you.

Without even thinking about it you stick out your pink. Lando is quick to wrap his own around yours.

“I promise Lan and if you join another team, I’ll do everything I can to join them as well.”

“I’m not going anywhere else if you can’t join me,” Lando says, “If they want me, they get you as well.”

You laugh.

Sunday - July 2023

You haven’t seen Lando for a while now. The two of you are in some sort of night club with a lot of the other drivers. Earlier today Lando got his second place. His first podium of the season. He even drove a couple laps as race leader. Things were amazing. You haven’t been proud, excited and happy like this for a long time. It feels insanely good. That’s why the both of you wanted to celebrate.

“Hi!”

You notice that Pierre Gasly is standing in front of you and just greeted you.

“Hey,” you greet him back.

Pierre and you have know each other for a while now. You can say that you’re friends with each other, but not really close friends. During race weekends you’ll talk with each other, but that’s about it. Still, when you talk to each other it’s nice and comfortable.

“In the mood to dance?” Pierre asks you. You’re quick to nod. Pierre gives you his hand and takes you with him towards the dance floor.

When Lando searches for you, he’s surprised to find you on the dance floor. Until he sees with who you are. Fuck. He lets out an annoyed sigh. Why does Pierre always come close to you? Lando thinks about a way to get you away from Pierre, but he can’t figure out something right now.

“Congrats on the podium!”

Without even realizing it, Lando is hugging with Yuki Tsunoda. He makes a bit of small talk with him, but Lando his eyes never leave you and Pierre. It annoys him that you’re still dancing with him. He needs to figure out a way to get you back to himself.

“Don’t you find them cute together?” Yuki asks him after a while.

Is Yuki talking about you and Pierre as well? Before Lando can say anything, Yuki continues talking.

“Pierre has been planning on taking her out for a while, maybe he’ll finally ask her now,” Yuki tells Lando.

“He likes her?” Lando asks.

Yuki nods.

“Fuck, I knew it,” Lando mutters annoyed.

Without a plan he walks towards you and Pierre. When he stands in front of you two, he’s quick to grab your arm. You are quick to look up. You’re surprised to see Lando in front of you.

“We’re going back to the hotel,” Lando tells you quickly, not knowing any better excuse right now.

“Why?” You ask surprised.

“I’m not feeling well,” Lando lies.

He notices the way your facial expressions change. He starts to feel like a terrible person when he sees your concerned face.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him.

“I’ll explain in the car,” Lando answers with the lack of a better answer.

“Wait, y/n, before you go, can I ask you something?” Pierre asks you.

Lando his grip on your arm firms. He pulls you with him softly. You look at him, still concerned about his well being. “I really want to go,” Lando tells you. He knows what’s coming next, Pierre is going to ask you out. Fuck. He needs to get you away.

“Maybe you can text me it?” You suggest to Pierre, “Lando isn’t feeling well, so we’re leaving now.”

“I’ll just ask you later,” Pierre sighs.

When you’re sitting in Lando his car, you notice that the boy is looking a lot better already. His weird facial expressions from earlier are gone, he almost seems relieved now? Maybe he was overwhelmed with all the attention and loud music?

“What was wrong?” You ask Lando.

“I uh,” Lando stutters a bit, “uh, I uh, I had a.. a uh, a headache. But it’s already getting better now.”

***

“Sooo,” you let out. You have been waiting for a moment to ask Lando something and maybe now is your chance?

“So?”

“Why don’t you like Pierre?” You ask him.

Since you and Pierre have gotten a bit closer, you have noticed Lando his strange behavior against Pierre. He always tries to get you away from him with excuses (?) about more massages. Or he joins your conversation and makes things awkward. What seems on purpose sometimes.

“You always try to get me away from him,” you add while waiting for Lando his reaction.

Lando sighs. Maybe he should just tell you everything. But he doesn’t.

“There’s nothing wrong with Pierre,” Lando replies.

Wednesday - July 2023

“Want to lunch together?” Lando asks you.

“I’m sorry Lan, Pierre asked me to get lunch together earlier today,” you reply a bit disappointed. If Lando only asked you earlier…

“Oh allright, then I’ll see you later. Right?” Lando asks disappointed.

“Yeah, after lunch I’ll be back,” you reply.

“Okay, have fun.”

Friday - July 2023

“We’re still on for tonight, right?” Lando asks you.

“What do you mean?” You ask surprised.

“It’s Friday!” Lando exclaims loudly, “we always have your self care night on Friday.”

“Oh fuck,” you whisper. You totally forgot. Or better said, you didn’t know Lando saw it as a weekly thing. “Pierre asked me out for dinner tonight, I’m so sorry Lan,” you explain, “but I can cancel?”

“You don’t have to,” Lando sighs, “just have fun with Pierre.”

***

Y/n: uh hi

Y/n: can u pick me up?

Lando: where?

Y/n: *location*

Lando: where is that? Who lives there?

Y/n: Pierre

Lando: can’t he bring you home

Lando: you seem to be dating him

Lando: not me.

Y/N: please lan

Lando: Omw

***

“Thanks for picking me up,” you tell Lando when you step into his car.

Lando is quick to notice your sad expression. He wonders what happened inside Pierre his house. When he sees a small tear rolling over your cheek, he knows for sure something happened.

“What’s wrong?” Lando asks you.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you sigh.

“Babygirl,” Lando sighs, “What’s going on lately? We barely see each other and now I’m picking you up from Pierre’s while you’re all sad?”

You let out a small sob.

“I fucked things up,” you cry out.

Lando increases his speed, he wants to get home as soon as possible so he can talk to you properly. He puts his free hand on your thigh and slowly draws some figures on it. When you use both of your hands to hold his, he can’t resist a small smile.

When you’re inside Lando his home, you know Lando still wants answers. He deserves them as well. Together you sit down on his couch. You try to look at Lando, but you can only sob when you do.

Pierre asked you to be his girlfriend tonight. You told him no. Of course you said no. You thought things between you two were just friendly. And there’s Lando. Maybe if Lando wasn’t here, you would have given Pierre a chance. But he’s here. He’s always on your mind. Even when you tried to forget about him, he’s always present in your thoughts.

“What happened?” Lando asks you again.

“I uh,” you stutter, “Pierre uh.. He, he asked me to be his uh.. his girlfriend.”

“Then why are you crying? Isn’t that what you wanted?” Lando asks confused. His body is heating up. He can’t handle it if you’re officially Pierre’s.

“I said no,” you state. This time the words come out a bit calmer.

“Didn’t he accept that?” Lando questions.

You just nod your head this time. When you think back about Pierre his reaction, you shiver.

“Want to talk about it?” Lando asks you.

“Later,” you suggest.

Lando opens his arms for you. It doesn’t take you long before you find your comfortable spot back. You lean on his chest. You’ve missed this.

“I’ve missed you,” you sob.

“I never left,” Lando states, “I just gave you some space with Pierre.”

“I don’t want space,” you sigh.

“What do you want?” Lando asks you confused, “I thought you wanted to date Pierre, so it seemed logical to give you a bit of space while figuring things out with him.”

You don’t think about your answer.

“I want you,” you state.

When the words leave your mouth, you realize the impact of them. Fuck. What did you just do? This is going to be the moment that you’ll lose Lando. You already feel him straighten up, sitting more straight then before. Slowly you seat yourself different as well. Lando looks in your eyes and you can’t look away.

“That’s a dangerous thing to say,” Lando replies.

“I can’t unsay it I guess,” you sigh, “This is just great. I fucked up something even more important now.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Lando comforts you, “but you need to explain what happened and what you mean.”

You sigh again.

“I told Pierre I didn’t want to date him, I thought our ‘dates’ were friendly. Then he got mad. He started to talk about all the money he spend on me,” you explain slowly, “I told him I could pay him back, but that wasn’t what he wanted. I don’t know what happened, but I do know I lost a friend.”

“And then I started thinking about you. How I blew you off multiple times because Pierre asked me to do something, I was afraid that I lost you as well.”

“Pierre’s a dick,” Lando scoffs, “and you can’t lose me. No matter how hard you’ll try, you can’t lose me.”

You let out a couple sobs. Lando pulls you closer to himself again.

“What do you mean with wanting me?” He asks you.

“Fuck Lan,” you sigh, “I’ve been in love with you for like forever.”

Lando doesn’t know what he just heard. He asks you again. And again. You keep telling him the truth.

“Fuck,” he says after a while.

“I’m sorry,” you sob, “I knew telling you was a mistake. Please stay my friend.”

“Max was right,” Lando says.

You look at him, confused by the deeper meaning behind his words.

“I should have told you,” Lando continues, “Then all of this would never have happened.”

“Told me what?” You ask confused.

“I’m in love with you,” Lando confesses, “I’ve been for the longest time. That’s why I didn’t like all of your dates, including Pierre.”

Saturday - August 2023

“It always turns me on when you massage me,” Lando confesses.

You laugh softly.

“Remember than one time you massaged me?” You ask Lando. He’s quick to nod. “We both have that problem.”

“Maybe I can massage you again tonight?” Lando suggests.

“That sounds amazing.”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris imagine #ln4 #formula one #f1 #lando norris imagines #lando norris smut

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sorcerersseestars · 10 months

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LIMERENCE (part I)

Gojo Satoru x gn!reader

"I can't stop loving you, no matter how hard I try."

summary: Your long-time friend stirs feelings inside you that you never realized existed. Of course they bubble up in your chest while he’s in the midst of ignoring you and discovering his own possible romance. Your mutual friend thinks she has it all figured out—or does she?

pairing: gojo satoru x gn! reader

fandom: jujutsu kaisen

genre: hanahaki sickness au, angst, hurt/comfort, drama, slow burn!

warnings: mentions of feeling sick, being stonewalled kinda, usage of the word (Y/N) bc Gojo is too fed up for nicknames (in reality idk what else to use 😶), Gojo being an ass (common theme in my fics oops)

word count: 3.6k

a/n: This is the first part to my hanahaki au! I’ve had this in my drafts for the longest time, but never committed to writing it all out until now. This first bit is kinda slow and maybe confusing BUT hopefully I’ll be able to clear it up next chapter. Not proof read very thoroughly; will probably regret later 🫥

part ii part iii

“DON’T YOU THINK you could be a bit nicer to me?” You try, clasping your hands together as you look up at him with an odd smile—a cross between apologetic and playful. You’re joking, or at least half joking. It’s too difficult to be serious with Gojo; his habit of masking emotion with jest must be rubbing off on you.

Only one corner of his mouth raises. “Good one, (Y/N)-chan. As if I didn’t use to pay your bills.”

He doesn’t look at you when he speaks, and he walks away from you without a single glance. You frown and lightly jog a few steps to catch up to him.

“Ah, and I’m forever thankful for that!” You say, cringing at how overly peppy your tone is. “But that’s not exactly what I meant.”

“Hmm,” Is all he says. His hands are in his pockets, but he doesn’t carry himself with as much ease as usual—his posture is closed off, angular and tense.

“What I meant was–” You prompt your own answer, as he doesn’t make any move to. “We haven’t seen each other in a while. I know you’ve been really busy lately, so I don’t blame you, but I think we should go out and do something. Could help relieve some work stress too, don’t you think so?”

“Maybe,” He says, the word short yet effective in its delivery. The word was sharp in his mouth, clear annoyance shaping his tongue enough for the word to have a bite to it.

You wince. He never used to be like this. Gojo has been in a state of perpetual mirth—and one could argue levity—for the entirety of your friendship, never taking anything seriously and always looking for opportunities to poke fun at you to half-jokingly glorify himself. His expression has always been infectiously positive—never molded into anything hard or serious.

But, lately, everything you thought you knew about Gojo Satoru has faded away into your memories. He never seeks out your presence anymore, which is polar opposite from your high school days, when he would follow you around and pester you until you’d hang out with him. You actually used to get annoyed at this behavior, but you’re sorely missing it now.

You feel like you know nothing about him these days, only hearing tidbits here and there from your mutual friend Shoko. It stings to know that he obviously talks to her, and quite often at that, seeing she always has new details to spill every other day.

It doesn’t make sense to you: him and Shoko were never particularly close, definitely not nearly as close as you and Gojo were. In fact, she thought of him as particularly annoying in high school, and often swore to you that she would cut all contact with him once they graduated.

Back then, you had rolled your eyes at her antics, never believing that anybody could cut Gojo out of their life, seeing as he simply wouldn’t let them. But how else could you describe what he seems to be doing to you?

You bite your lip nervously. “Satoru? Is there something wrong?”

“Not particularly,” He says with a forced smile that’s screaming for you to shut up. You pretend like it’s not the most disingenuous smile you’ve ever seen smeared on his face.

“Are you sure?” You probe. “I mean…what’s been going on with you these days? We haven’t seen each other in forever, and you don’t seem yourself.”

“Are you sure?”

His lips are quirked up, as they perpetually are, but it’s different this time. It’s mocking. A mocking smirk that’s telling you to face reality. Do you really know him anymore?

You pause in your steps, studying his expression. You can’t see his eyes, but you wish you could. He’s hard to read with that blindfold concealing those powerful eyes of his, but it never used to be a problem. It hurts that you’re now struggling to gauge him when your emotions used to feel like one.

Evidently, you can’t answer his question. Not that he seems to care.

“I’ve really got to get going. Students to teach, curses to kill, all that,” He announces, tone low and apathetic. Bored. “See ya.”

Your breath flutters in your throat as you try to bid him goodbye. You choke on your words and only end up tentatively raising a hand. Before you can wave, his form disappears. A gust of wind greets you in lieu of a proper goodbye.

You stay where you are for a few shocked moments, not even registering the hot tears that leak from the eyes he avoided.

You wander aimlessly around campus for a while, the whole interaction replaying in your head several times over. His “Are you sure?” needles its way into your brain even when you push it away, the words hitting where it hurts every time.

Your feet find themselves taking you to an empty break room – ah, this is the one that has your favorite flavor of tea. You turn the kettle on, then eagerly dig through the tea stash. You file through the individual packets quickly and thoroughly, but to no avail. It’s gone.

With a sigh, you grab a random tea bag and throw it into your mug. Frustrated, you roughly begin pouring the now-boiled water into the mug, but it doesn’t seem that was a good idea. Your hand slips for just a split second, but a sizable splash of boiling water still manages to singe your non-dominant hand. A stream of expletives leaves your mouth, and you instantly cradle your hand to your heart.

More tears appear. At least you have an excuse this time—it fucking hurts.

You trudge to the clinic, feeling quite silly, but also seeking some much-needed relief. And you’re not exactly imagining painkillers or an ice pack—no, there’s something else. Someone else.

You hesitantly knock on the door. You feel stupid, but you really have to see her.

You crack a smile at the creak of the door. Your friend and co-worker Shoko strides out with an air of confidence you wish you held.

“What happened?” She asks calmly, eyes lazily taking in your form.

“Spilled some water from the kettle,” You say lamely. “It hurts.”

That doesn’t really constitute a visit to one of the only reverse-cursed technique users in the school, and you know it. So does she.

“Mmhm,” She raises her eyebrows. “Well, come on in.”

You shuffle in a little sheepishly, not able to meet Shoko’s eyes. Now that you’re here, you start to feel unsure about your own motive—do you really want to discuss this? Won’t it just be embarrassing more than anything else?

You stall a little in your steps as the negative thoughts invade your head. You’re startled to attention by a poke to your side—when you look up, Shoko’s playful smirk fills your vision.

“Come on over to the sink and we’ll put that under some cool running water,” She says, gesturing to your reddened arm.

You cock your head, looking between her and the sink skeptically, ��No ice?”

She shakes her head, sticking her tongue out at you a bit, “Nope! Running water for burns.”

You hold up your hands in defeat, smiling, “Whatever Doctor Shoko says.”

“And I do,” She says cheekily. “So get under that water!”

“Aye-aye,” You say with a salute.

She groans, “Ugh. You guys are so annoyingly similar. Hang on a sec, I gotta grab something.”

She turns away before she can see the way your expression drops. The smile is stolen from your face, leaving behind saddened eyes and a slight frown. There’s only one possible person she could be talking about.

You sigh and turn on the faucet—your disheartened sigh morphs into one of great relief as the cold water soothes your burn.

“That better?” Shoko asks upon her return.

You nod, a small smile coming back, “Yeah, thanks Shoko.”

“Is there something else wrong?” She asks, then shakes her head. “No, scratch that. What’s actually wrong?”

You take a deep breath. How are you going to broach this subject? You wait several moments, pondering your exact next words.

“Do you think Gojo is okay?” You finally ask your long-time friend, words coming out almost cautiously.

She eyes you funnily, “Why are you asking me? As if he doesn’t chase you around the school to blab on about himself.”

You smile, but it’s tainted by bitterness.

“Shoko…Gojo hasn’t talked to me for two months,” You admit quietly. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

She stops.

“What?”

You hate hearing the confusion in her voice. You hate the pity that soon fills her eyes.

“He seriously hasn’t,” You affirm, sighing. “I don’t know what I did, or if I did anything, or…or what. I just, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Have you tried talking to him about it?”

You sigh. “Of course I have, but he didn’t seem to take my concerns seriously. Or consider them at all. It just seemed like he wanted me to shut up and leave him alone.”

Shoko looks at you curiously, lips quirking as if she has something to say, but no words come out. Is she holding something back?

You take a deep breath, willing the horrible emotion that squeezes your throat away. You look out the window to distract yourself, watching the branches of a sakura sapling swaying in the wind. It looks alone and lost, battered by the relentless wind.

“What’s he been like recently with you?” You finally ask, your gaze still on the tree.

“Normal,” Shoko says. “Annoying as ever. Noisy as ever.”

A cluster of pink petals is ripped from a branch, swirling hopelessly to the ground. When they settle on the ground, you look back to your friend.

“He’s really the same?” You ask weakly.

“Unfortunately,” She says wryly. “Besides, why do you care? We’ve both been trying to get him off our backs since waaay long ago. Sounds like a blessing in disguise.”

“Ah, that’s true,” You admit with a weak chuckle, trying to ignore the way your heart throbs painfully. “But he’s also our friend.”

“Since when? More like a thorn in my side. Maybe he finally got the message,” Shoko smirks. “You should give me instructions for that. I’d have a lot better quality of life, you know.”

You know she’s just joking around with you, but she’s truly just rubbing salt in your wound. Not very ethical for a doctor, even if unintentional.

“Yeah,” You laugh, but it’s an empty sound. “Well, I guess I’ll get going then. Hopefully your next patient gives you an easier time.”

Shoko jokes, “Yeah, this has been my toughest job all week. You fiend.”

Your head is filled with so many questions, all of them growing louder as you walk away from your friend. Your friend who you thought would sympathize with you, but only ended up making you feel worse in the end is acting suspicious. It’s not like you’ve ever wanted to actually cut ties with Gojo, even when he used to pull pranks on you in high school. You craved for a strong friendship with him throughout all his shenanigans.

Why is Shoko acting like you hate Gojo, and what isn’t she telling you?

Before you reach the door, you decide you need to know. You stop abruptly in your tracks.

“Ieiri, you’re not telling me something,” You say softly, not looking back. “Why?”

Shoko sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, “You don’t miss anything, do you?”

You say nothing. The door in front of you is tempting—it’s your way out of knowing the truth. Do you really want to know?

You wait tensely for a few seconds, the silence causing nerves to bubble up in your stomach. But when Shoko begins to speak, they go don’t go away.

“He hasn’t really been acting strange around me, but he’s constantly on his phone. Like always. Whenever he comes to chat, he immediately tunes me out and starts texting or loudly takes a call,” She snorts, huffing out an exasperated sigh. “I thought he was just bored and trying to make me feel disrespected as a sort of cruel joke, but I think it’s something else. I think…I think Gojo is interested in someone.”

Your head whips around, disbelief clear in your features. Interested in someone?

“Maybe that’s why he’s been acting weird. I always thought he was crazy for you, so it didn’t cross my mind until now.”

“Crazy for me?” You immediately echo back, voice hollow and confused.

Shoko shakes her head at you, “C’mon, you can’t be that oblivious. He always followed you around like a lost puppy in high school. He never said anything to me about it, but I really thought he would confess any day for years.”

“He did that to everyone…” You shake your head. “You say yourself he bugged you so much.”

She rolls her eyes. “Trust me, it was different.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. Your vision becomes foggy at the edges, reality fizzling out.

“Why didn’t you want to tell me?” You ask. “It’s not like that matters.”

You try to appear uncaring, yet it was a fight to get those words out.

“You’re a sensitive person. ‘Didn’t know how you’d react since Gojo always seemed to chase after your attention, exclusively. But it’s not like it was the other way around—should have known it wasn’t a big deal. It’s not. Guess he’s just growing up.”

“Yeah,” You agree faintly, voice devoid of emotion. Reality is slipping through your numb fingers, the information turning your world into a nightmare. You should have opened the door and ran when you had the chance.

“It’s not,” You say with a saccharine smile, one so sickly sweet that Shoko gets chills. That’s not your usual smile—not one that Shoko has ever seen you wear. “Of course it’s not.”

When you turn on your heel and rush out of her infirmary, Shoko reaches out a hand and her lips part to call after you. It’s uncharacteristic for her—the cold doctor is rarely sentimental or emotionally affected, but she saw something ghastly in that smile of yours.

The slam of the door answers her call. The truth, now imparted, comes to bite her in the ass.

It’s been a few days. You’ve been moping around the school, around your students—trying to cope with the information that you don’t even know is true. You see him across campus sometimes; he’s so easily spotted with his translucent hair and tall frame. Every time, he’s facing away from you, and your eyes fall on the back of his head. Your chest always tightens and you end up turning away, too.

You have ignored the feelings stirring in your chest, not willing to admit something that clearly isn’t reciprocated. It has been working, you suppose, since you haven’t cracked under the mental weight of possibly being in lo—

No, you can’t even think that.

Everything has been as okay as it can. It’s not until you attempt to visit Shoko again to try sort out your feelings, however, that things take a turn for the worse.

Your hand is raised as you prepare to knock on the infirmary door, but you hesitate once you hear muffled voices.

“I don’t know…I didn’t expect it at all.”

That’s Gojo’s voice. That low but self-assured tone is undeniably his.

“Expect what?” Shoko asks, sounding bored.

His reply is so soft that it passes by as just a hiss of air, so quiet that you physically startle at Shoko’s loud reaction.

“No! What? I can’t believe that!” She shouts, laughter quickly following her exclamation.

You shouldn’t be listening—you hadn’t planned to eavesdrop on your two best friends, but for some reason your ear seeks out the wall, as if magnetized.

The next three words uttered still your heart.

“Utahime kissed me,” Gojo admits quietly.

You feel like you can’t breathe. Utahime, who has always despised Gojo even beyond Shoko’s extent. Utahime, who once cried into your chest after Gojo was harsh with her at an exchange event. Utahime, who always persisted that you and Gojo were into each other during high school.

Shoko’s unbelieving chuckle cuts through your thoughts.

Shoko laughs, “Oh, yeah, okay, as if I’d ever believe that.”

There’s silence. Your heart drops at the lack of response—no teasing refute, no playful faux playboy attitude.

Shoko absorbs his unusual silence, finally interpreting his words for what they are.

She gasps loudly, spluttering, “Oh my God, you’re being serious. What?! There’s no way…”

Gojo’s voice is even and deep. “I didn’t lie. She just did it out of nowhere. I didn’t even know how to react, to be honest.”

“So you just stood there?” Shoko snorts, trying to keep up her usual sarcastic persona. “God, you’re insufferable all the way around.”

“I kissed her back,” He breathes out, voice almost weak.

Another long moment of silence ensues. You hold your breath, terrified that your panicked pants will alert them of your presence.

Shoko recovers quickly this time.

“Still insufferable,” She sighs, and you can imagine her shaking her head. “So what now? You like her or something? This is so random.”

“I…I don’t know,” He admits quietly. “I never thought she’d do that, it took me by surprise. I…I think I liked it?”

Your heart shatters. You clutch a hand to your mouth, gagging yourself, forcing back the pained gasp that’s threatening to leave your lips.

“Oh, is that so?” Shoko says drily, but the usual edge to her voice is absent. You can only imagine her expression: contorted with pity and pain, desperately trying to maintain her poker face.

“Yeah,” Gojo reaffirms. “It was nice.”

There’s silence for a few seconds as Shoko takes it all in. Then, “Is she who you’ve always been calling and texting when I’m talking to you? You’re an ass for that, by the way.”

Gojo exhales out a sardonic sniff, “You’re spot on.”

Why are you still listening? You should leave. You shouldn’t be hearing this. Pain blooms in your chest, as if thorns became lodged between your ribs.

“What about (Y/N)?”

You freeze, eyes bulging out of your head.

Gojo sighs, sounding annoyed, “What do you mean?”

“I’m not dumb, Satoru. There was something going on during high school and frankly in the past few years as well. Are you going to deny it?”

He scoffs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Shoko. It was never like that.”

You feel like you’re going to be sick. You shouldn’t—there’s no possible way you’re actually in love with Gojo Satoru, is there?

Fuck. The thought you’ve been trying to avoid all this time has finally firmly inserted itself into your head.

You take off swiftly and immediately, and your footfalls are as light as you can possibly manage. If either of them knew you were here, you wouldn’t be able to handle the shame.

Gojo and Shoko are none the wiser to the immoral action that took place just beyond the door—so when Shoko is ready to clock out and opens the door, the presence of a school ID on the ground is nearly missed. She feels something strange crunch underneath her foot and steps away and glances at the foreign object.

You left in such a hurry that your ID flopped out of your pocket. It lays on the ground, your smiling face staring up at Shoko, who looks on in horror. She immediately knows that you heard everything. She quickly steps back onto your ID, concealing your identity with her foot.

With all the sight of his six eyes, Gojo somehow completely missed Shoko’s strategic maneuvers to erase traces of your presence. He whistles nonchalantly, not having a care in the world, apparently.

In contrast, Shoko’s mind is racing. Her eyes roam around the courtyard, searching for your form. She feels rooted to the spot—will she reveal you if she steps away? She almost forgets that she’s not alone.

“You looking for someone?” Gojo asks.

Shoko stiffens, but forces herself to relax and appear nonchalant. “Ah, I was just wondering if…if (Y/N) would still be around.”

Gojo frowns. “Hm. Not sure. Don’t they usually go home right after they get off?”

“Lately, they’ve been staying back to do paperwork,” She sighs. “Masamichi has really giving them too many missions…How come you don’t know that?”

“Haven’t had the chance to catch up, I guess,” Gojo says evasively, then quickly changes the subject. “Besides, aren’t you the same way? You coming or not? I’ve got better things to do.”

He waves his cell phone around playfully, a smirk widening across his features.

Shoko rolls her eyes, “Go ahead. I’m just going to wait here a bit and see if I can text them and get them over here.”

She hesitates for a second before adding, “Actually, why don’t you wait a sec? We haven’t all seen each other in a bit.”

Gojo immediately stiffens. He scratches the back of his head and says, “Ah, I’m actually sort of on a time crunch. Maybe next time.”

What a lie. Shoko thinks, eyes narrowing subconsciously. What is he up to?

As he trails off into the distance, the gears in Shoko’s head continue to turn. He always, always teleports home after work finishes. So why is he slowly walking around campus, head turning this way and that way as if searching?

And you! Why were you there? Why were you so affected? What is going on in your head—or rather, your heart?

Something strange is going on with her two friends and Shoko is determined to find out what.

next part

credit 🩷:

@kiyaedits - baby pink dividers, @sweetxmelody - cherry blossom divider

*note: taglist open!! comment to be tagged in part 2 :)

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo behavior #hurt/comfort #gojo hurt/comfort #angst #jjk #best buddie shoko #sad bc utahime and shoko aren’t together in this one 😤#Gojo is a hater

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bucks-babe · 9 months

Text

Munch

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky x f!reader

Summary: Bucky gets his first taste

Warnings: Angst in the beginning (mentions of Hydra and potential abuse), smut (oral f!receiving, fingering), Bucky humps the bed, sub!bucky, mommy kink ( I don’t know what came over me), aftercare, slight overstimulation, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Not me disappearing. Oops. Special thanks to @bucknastysbabe for proof reading and edits. Part of the Virgin!Bucky series of one shots but can be read alone

Next to you in bed, Bucky was twisting and turning. He agreed for you to sleep over in his room after this week's movie night. Ever since the night you both ‘watched’ When Harry Met Sally, Bucky had been acting weirdly. At first you thought that maybe he was just embarrassed; it was his first sexual experience after all. But he hasn’t looked you in the eyes for more than three seconds before blushing and turning away.

It had been almost two weeks since that night, and now you’re starting to get worried that you pushed him too far. What if he wasn’t ready for you to see him like that? What if he didn’t want you to touch him but he didn’t want to hurt your feelings by saying no? Did you violate his trust? You worked so hard to get him to trust you, to be the person he can always turn to.

You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you forced his hand. After so many years of not having any choices, or any control of his body, maybe Bucky got used to seeing himself as a toy, an object to be used and not as his own being, entitled to saying no if he didn’t want something. “Did I do something, Buck?” It comes out as a whisper, but he catches it with his super hearing.

Bucky’s entire body freezes. “No,” is all he says, looking up at the ceiling in the dark. He doesn’t know how to stay still around you. Not when his brain is replaying the events from a few weeks ago, happened in the very same bed he is laying in. How fucking good you made him feel, how pretty you looked, and how he’s been fucking himself almost every night since, dreaming about you.

Bucky has no idea that you think you’ve pushed him too far. If anything, he wants more. He wants you to blow him again, wants to eat you out, and above all, he wants you to take his virginity. He craves for you to be his first and only, to corrupt him, show him every dirty thing possible, teach him how to fuck. But he doesn’t know how to ask for it.

“Is this about what happened a few weeks ago? I need you to tell me if I crossed a line and made you feel like you had to say yes.” You need to know if you did something he didn’t want, make sure that he feels comfortable enough to set boundaries. You also don’t need to clarify what incident you are referring to. The two of you haven’t done anything near that intense since.

Bucky’s eyes widen and he flips onto his side to look at you, the light of the moon showing how glassy your eyes are. “No, Doll! I wanted that to happen, I promise! It’s not that.” With his metal hand, he pulls you into his chest, needing you close to him. He can’t believe you would think that he didn’t want you to suck his dick. Bucky chokes up a little at how much you care, not used to warmth and care for him as a person.

Hydra cared about his physical health, making sure he was ready for the next battle, that he was strong enough to carry out his mission, not him, never him. You, on the other hand, are right here in his arms scared that you coerced him, because you care for him.

“Then what is it? I feel like I’ve done something. You’ve hardly looked at me these past two weeks.” You pull away enough to look him in the eyes, seeing his blush.

“Oh, doll, this is so embarrassing.” You reach up and cup his face with your hands, silently encouraging him to proceed. “It’s not because I didn’t want you to,” his eyes leave yours, “you know.” A small chuckle leaves your lips at his shyness. “It’s because that’s all I’ve been thinking about, and more.” The end of his sentence comes off in a whisper, not intending for you to hear.

A weight comes off your chest and you laugh, much to Bucky’s chagrin. “Honey, that’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” At his frown, you kiss his nose, then his cheeks, before landing a chaste kiss to his pouting lips, giggling in between each peck. “You had me scared. And here you were just being a little horn dog.”

“It’s not funny.” Bucky buries his head into your neck while you continue to laugh; however, you feel his smile. After a minute he pops his head back up, “Okay, maybe it’s a little funny.”

You both laugh for a while until you remember his sly, ‘and more’ comment. You find his shyness adorable, but you want to corrupt this man, if he’ll let you of course, so you feel compelled to pry about his tiny admission. “What else were you thinking about doing? With me”

Bucky groans, face still buried in your neck. “What do you mean?” He decides to play coy, knowing that it won’t work. Your hand goes to his hair and you lightly tug on it, pulling his head up. A choked groan leaves Bucky’s lips and he grinds his hips against your stomach. At the look on your face, he feels like he could cum right there, and he feels such a deep and powerful urge to be good for you, to do whatever you want him to.

“I wanted to do what you did to me… on you.” His cheeks are as red as a tomato, and you feel your own arousal pool in your panties. Evidently, Bucky could smell your wetness as his eyes darkened.

“You wanna eat me out, honey? You wanna try to eat pussy for the first time?” You still have your grip on his hair, and you can feel how hard his cock is from where he’s grinding against you. He nods his head, only to have you pull on his hair, “Use your words like a big boy and tell me.”

“Yes, mommy. I wanna eat you out, but I don’t know how. I need mommy to teach me.” Your eyes widen at the title but Bucky doesn’t seem to realize, eyes foggy and mindlessly humping you. Poor baby had dropped headfirst into sub-land.

“Don’t worry, honey, mommy will teach you. Such a good boy for using your words.” Bucky whines as you pull away from him to turn on the lamp on the bedside table, hips chasing any type of friction they can. “If you want to eat mommy out, honey, you have to let me move.”

After turning the lamp on, you kneel on the bed, gesturing for Bucky to follow, which he does without hesitation. “Bucky, are you okay with this? I need to make sure this is something that you want.” You stop Bucky from laying you down when his only answer was a gentle, “Yes mommy.” You need him to be present when he consents and when you get him to look you in the eyes, see the fog behind his eyes clear up some, then you accept his consent, knowing that this is something that he is okay with.

You let him lay you down on the bed, with him in between your legs. “Take mommy’s clothes off, honey.” Immediately, Bucky goes to take your shorts off, taking your panties off with them, feeling the cool air hit your slick. You could feel your clit pulsing at the sight of Bucky right next to your cunt.

“Mommy, your pussy is so pretty. Can I lick it, please?” You don’t miss the way Bucky’s hips are rocking against the bed.

“Not yet, honey. First, I want you to use your hands, okay?” You could tell how excited he was, and how confused. “Touch mommy’s clit with your thumb.” He was a little over enthusiastic and was a little too hard, making you wince and your hips jerk, but you couldn’t blame him - the poor thing was clueless.

“A little lighter, just like that, good boy. Now rub it in circles, shit, uh huh.” Bucky was watching you like a fucking hawk, torn between watching your face contort or watching the way your clit was throbbing and slick was seeping out of your hole. He was salivating at the thought of having his first taste of you; your smell alone could have him cumming on command.

“Do you feel good, mommy?” He needed your confirmation. His cock was harder than ever pushed up against the bed. He knew that he should slow his hips down, but it was like he was watching the sexiest porno ever, eyes drawn to the slick leaving your pussy, how you were drenching the sheets underneath you.

“Feels so good, honey. Now I want you to use your index finger and put it inside real gentle.” Bucky was absolutely incredible at following directions and reading your body, seeing what you were responding to. “Curl your finger, fuck, good boy! Use your mouth now, on mommy’s clit.” Bucky whines, he wants to be your good boy so fucking bad.

At your direction, Bucky latches onto your pulsing clit, moaning at his first taste, and holy hell, Bucky feels his cock twitch and he knows he's about to cum. He flattens down on the bed, humping faster, his moans match yours in volume. Pride blossoms in his chest - he’s making you feel good. He’s being a good boy.

His balls pull up tight to his body, but Bucky cant fucking stop, and he cums in his boxers and all the way to the sheets. Ropes and ropes of his cum shoot out, but he’ll be fucking damned if he leaves your pussy. Every groan leaving him goes straight to your clit, and you’re reeling with pleasure. Men who had twice the experience than Bucky couldn’t give you half the pleasure he has.

He alternates between sucking and licking, watching to see which you like more, bringing his other finger to your entrance, now using two fingers and his mouth, more feral than ever to pleasure you, all the while his hips are still rocking against the bed. “Keep going, just like that, Bucky.” There is no way that Bucky could stop now, not when he hasn’t seen you cum. He’s in his own world at this point, eyes closed, hips still grinding against the bed, listening to the way your pussy is sucking his fingers back in, feeling your thighs shake around him, fucking tasting your slick like it’s water.

Each time he moans into your pussy, he feels your walls clamp down on his fingers. Your hips start to chase his mouth, wanting more. “Bucky, I’m gonna cum! Please don’t stop! Make mommy cum!” Bucky wants you to cum more than anything, he needs it like its air.

He wants to speed up his ministrations, but he knows that’s not what you want. Instead he speeds his hips up, feeling his second orgasm building. His movements are much easier with the surplus of cum that’s already on the bed. Distantly, you hear the bed shaking with the force of his thrusts, but your orgasm is about to hit you and you can’t focus on anything.

His free hand reaches up to grab you, grounding himself, desperate to make you cum before he does. He wants to beg and plead for you to cum but he can’t tear himself away from your cunt. If he could, Bucky would stay between your legs for the rest of his life. He can feel you pulsing around him and he knows you're going to cum soon.

When his eyes find yours it’s over for the both of you. You cum first, crying out his name, thighs clamping around his head, suffocating him. The sight of you cumming has Bucky finishing immediately. You look so fucking gorgeous, slight frown pulling at your lips, lines forming inbetween your eyebrows, it’s heaven on earth for him. His hips spasm and somehow even more cum than before bursts from his tip, making an even bigger mess.

Bucky doesn’t pull away from your pussy, he cant, it’s fucking addictive. He feels your slick running down to his wrist, and the taste of your cum is driving him insane. Only when you push him away does Bucky leave your pussy. “Did I do good, mommy?” He groans when he licks his fingers. Both of you are panting heavily, trying to catch your breath.

You pull him up and let him rest his head on your chest. “You did so good for me, I’m so proud of you, honey. You made mommy feel so good.” You feel how he relaxes into your chest, all the while you whisper to him, letting him know how good he was and how much you love him.

After a few minutes, Bucky begins to wiggle around, the cum in his boxers becoming uncomfortable. You have to move him, going to the bathroom and getting a damp cloth to clean him up with. “Honey, can I take your pants off and clean you up?” At his blush you add, “It’s okay, honey, mommy just wants to make you feel better, nothing to be embarrassed about.”

He lets you take his boxers off and you clean him off as gently as you can, trying to avoid the overstimulated tip of his cock. You throw his soiled underwear in the hamper and give him a new pair to put on. Climbing back into bed, Bucky goes straight to your chest, cuddling to you. “Go to bed, honey. Mommy’s right here.” Bucky falls asleep, feeling safe and protected in the arms of his best girl.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #sebastian stan x reader

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ghostsbaby · 2 years

Note

BABE. WE NEED A FANFIC OF THE READER RIDING SIMONS THIGH LIKE RN, LIKE IMAGINE HIM BOUNCING HIS LEG UP AND DOWN TO TEASE THE READER OH MY GOD?

pairing - ghost x fem!babygirl reader

word count - 742

warnings - just some thigh riding, name calling, bad plotting and daddy kink!

a/n - got you baby! hope it’s okay. it’s not a complete fic but had to whip something up. let me know if you want something different. not proof read so if things don’t make sense oops I apologize 🖤🖤��

You weren’t facing him. Weren’t witnessing the change in his eyes when he felt your cunts heartbeat against his thigh. Weren’t seeing the amusement in his grin when you didn’t make a sound about it.

So he only did what felt natural. Tease.

He knew how to get your attention while you just sat there in his lap solving a puzzle with your holes untouched and pussy dancing on his thigh. Ghost knew how to fuck with you.

You had just finished the border, putting the last piece in place before moving onto the next section of the 1000 piece puzzle that had a picture of a cute puppy on it with pretty pink flowers. How cute he thought, gonna ruin it.

Of course at this time you weren’t alone. The rest of 141 already joined in the same room while Ghost had plans of turning you into putty. Gaz and Soap were watching a movie while Price began to softly snore on the couch. Perfect.

Looking for matching pieces you were playing oblivious to Ghosts intentions, not even noticing his growing cock under you until you felt the first bounce and heard the light tap of his boot hit the ground.

Your eyes zeroed in on one of the pieces in your hand, coming back from your little princess world of everything perfect now that you know what Ghosts really doing. You were sitting in his lap and occasionally, but purposely fluttering your pussy all over his thigh. You knew he could feel it.

The bouncing of his leg continued and it only made you weaker, starting to lose focus on the puzzle in front of you while the only thing Ghost is paying attention to is your cunt bouncing against him. It wasn’t the first time.

It didn’t take long for your panties to soak. The fabric thin and rubbing against you, his pants having all sorts of pockets and buttons that you find one and press your sensitive bud into it. Fuck he was going to have so much fun with you.

Ghost sat lazily in the chair, watching and waiting your every move while he bounced his leg. Starting off slow before going into a continuous rhythm of trying to get you to come while the boys were in the same room, almost all of them awake. Ghost knows how fucking loud you are and is going to use it against you.

You roll your hips impatiently and deeper. Your feet hanging off the floor under you, only bracing on Ghosts thigh as the puzzle doesn’t exist to you anymore. All hope of you being silent and not giving into your boyfriends shenanigans was thrown out the door.

“Look at you baby. Fuck.”

Low growling in your ear, his pace slightly quickening to see what noises he could get away with. You squeaked, hands bracing against the table while you started to hump Ghosts thigh and he fucking loved it. Ghost didn’t need to look over to notice the shift in Soap’s body and it drove him mad.

Ghost wasn’t even fucking touching you and you were melting all over his leg, riding his thigh like it was his cock you were gonna cum all over. His cock stretched his pants tighter and tighter while you desperately dry humped the Lieutenant.

“Do you want them to see you? Fucking slut.”

His hands finally made contact with your hips as he brought you down even harder against his thigh, making you hump against him vigorously until he could feel your body start to go limp. He held you up effortlessly, pushing his knee up so your clit presses against the buttons on his pocket and rolls your hips in circular motions.

You’re panting, letting out a string of moans before Ghost starts to bring you to orgasm from words you never wanna repeat.

“Come on baby. Ride Daddy’s thigh until you’re making a mess.”

The puzzle pieces scattered on the table started to fall off the table while you whined and whimpered out moans, hitting the ground with just enough noise that Price opens his eyes while you’re shaking against Ghost and he holds you down harder, leaving bruises where he dug his fingers into your sides.

You dared yourself to look in the captain’s direction, turning your head ever so slightly until it’s brought back to the puzzle in front of you by a hand closing your throat.

#simon ghost riley #b answers #b writes #simon riley #ghost #simon riley smut #ghost smut #ghost x babygirl!reader #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #ghost x reader #ghost x reader smut #mw2 #call of duty: modern warfare 2

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sugurusdiscordmoderator · 6 months

Note

Halo bby! <3

Do u perhaps take request? I have been thinking about husband!gojo who feels offended after wife!reader told him about how men can only ejaculate 3 times a day after after she saw it on facebook :3 So Satoru had to cum in wifey more than what she believes because the truth is better than rumours, right? 🤔

hi anon! my inbox is always open for requests (it just might take me a little to finish them lol)

Sorry I’ve been working on this for like 3 weeks lol, I am going to take a break from writing Gojo for a little after this though (:

I didn’t proof read this my apologies

MDNI

cw: smut lmao, handjob, 69, riding, missionary, doggy, daddy kink (oops), shower sex, etc.

—

You scroll through your Facebook feed, when an article from Cosmopolitan magazine pops up called “How To Make Your Man Orgasm Better”. You read through some of it, not really absorbing much until you see an actual doctor’s name listed as research for the article. I mean of course if there’s a penis doctor listed in this article it must be legit!

‘Generally, a person with a penis can orgasm no more than 3 times a day. It can become painfully overstimulating the penis after that I’m afraid. In fact over 80% of this study shows that the person with the penis could not go longer than one orgasm, and 95% could not continue after the second one. That leaves just 5% of the population able to orgasm a third time in a day. There is the possibility for an asymptote - a line that never actually reaches zero although approaching it rapidly after the number 3.’

After reading through the article you decide to scroll through the comments, reading about middle aged women’s sex lives and how their husbands are rather bad at being intimate.

But oh, you could not relate.

After all, you are married to the Satoru Gojo. As a newer married couple with no kids, the two of you fuck at least once a day, usually after work or before bed. You like to get a little more creative on weekends, with morning sex, shower sex, kitchen counter, couch (and just about any surface in the house he can bend you over he’s already fucked you on). You guys can have sex for hours, pulling multiple orgasms from you, but the most he’s ever came in a day is three! So that doctor must have been right.

Just then, your lovely husband Satoru comes home to your beautiful little house, strolling in with a smile on his face like usual. He sits his bag down and takes off his blindfold before making his way over to you and kissing the top of your head where you sit on the couch.

“Hi baby, how was your day?” he asks

“Good, I was just reading a medical article!” You giggle mischievously, getting up to join him in the kitchen with your phone in hand.

“You can read?!” He sarcastically responds, pretending to be shocked before coming up behind you to hug you. This time he kisses the side of your head near your temple, smelling your freshly done hair and you can smell the remnants of his cologne that he sprayed before leaving this morning. “What were ya reading baby?” He kindly asks, not joking this time.

“Well this doctor says guys can cum at most three times a day! And I was thinking about it and even when we stay in bed all day on the weekends having sex the maximum you’ve hit is 3 so it must be true!”

Your husband breaks out laughing, a truly angelic sound, but you’re not quite sure what he’s laughing at. He breaks your hug turning you around to face him with his hands on your shoulders.

“Oh. You actually weren’t joking.” He says reading the expression on your face.

“No babe. Here read it!” You shove your phone towards him with the article pulled up. He reads the same paragraph as above and makes a mental note of the doctors name and credentials and thinks about how he’s going to contact him once he proves this theory wrong.

“Oh, interesting babe. Since you’re so into these ‘medical’ articles you find on cosmopolitan, why don’t we test this theory for ourselves?”

You giggle and blush at his sentiment, still getting shy when initiating sex even after being together for 5 years! You close the distance between your bodies, wrapping your arms around your husbands neck and pulls him down for a kiss.

“Yes please” you whisper against his lips. Satoru deepens the kiss, taking control over you like always. He continues kissing you and backing you up until your back reaches the refrigerator. He plants kisses all over your face before moving down to your neck.

“Y’know, I think we’ll have to make me orgasm all different ways for it to count. Something about a control variable.” Satoru mumbles against your neck.

You’d protest but your pretty little head is thinking about the way his mouth is on your sensitive spot, too horny to shut him up. He pats the back of your thighs for you to jump into his grasp, and you do wrapping your legs around him like a koala. The two of you continue your passionate make out before heading to the bedroom.

Leading you to the gorgeous master bedroom satoru closes the door behind you even though nobody else is there. He begins unbuttoning his jacket and throws it on the floor followed by his undershirt and black jeans. He lays back, his stiff member pulling his boxer briefs tight as he looks over to you expectantly. You waltz closer to the bed, only wearing your matching silk tank top and short set that satoru bought multiple of and loves so much.

He bought every pastel color and loves when he can see your somehow always hardened nipples through the silky fabric. Today’s outfit was baby blue, which happened to be his favorite. Being Satoru’s housewife really isn’t so bad, he makes good money and takes care of you in every way. You just can’t help but be submissive to him when he asks you to wear certain things or cook a certain food. For this man, you threw feminism out the window, and oh how he knew that.

Satoru pulls you onto his lap, looking up at you with those stupidly beautiful eyes as he gently squeezes your hip. “Cmon princess let’s start this experiment,” he winks at you before helping you take off your tank top.

While yes, you play a submissive role in your relationship, he doesn’t always dominate you in the bedroom.

That being said, you roll off satoru so you are laying beside him, leaning to him to resume your steamy make out session.

“Mmm.. I love making out with you, we need to do this more,” he mumbles against your lips. You “mhm” in agreement before proceeding to enter your tongue into his mouth. One hand grips into his white locks while the other reaches down to rub his erection through his boxer briefs. He moans at your touch, reaching his slender arm around you and firmly grabs ahold of your ass, as if you would run away. Satoru takes over the kiss a little more, but as you’re still trying to be in control you stick your hand inside his underwear, rubbing your thumb against his slit.

You break the kiss so he can lower the underwear, before spiting on your hand to lube his shaft as your soft hand runs up and down. He shudders and rolls his eyes back, putting both of his hands behind his head, showing off his sculpted physique completed by the tufts of white hair on his armpits.

You try your best to talk dirty to your lover, being shy in bed like usual is not going to work if you want to make him cum more than 3 times.

“Such a pretty cock belonging to my pretty man”

Satoru knows he’s in for a wild ride when you start to talk seductively. It doesn’t happen often because while you’re vocal in bed… it doesn’t usually include words or full sentences. 😉

You keep eye contact with your lover while you rub your thumb in circles against his sensitive spot, on the back side of the shaft where it meets the head. He lets out a mixture of a whimper and moan while closing his eyes. You add the dripping precum to the tip of his cock will you rub him up and down just like he had shown you previously. He likes when you start towards the middle and rotate up and down, not too fast and not too slow, but not too much pressure and not too light of a touch. He openly told you before that you weren’t very good with the whole handjob concept even though you’re basically professional at everything else, and so he went into great detail, and now you can really make the man quiver.

You sit up, moving so you can use both hands, because his balls look just a little too neglected. You straddle his left leg, allowing him to feel your bare soaking pussy against him. He grunts at the new feelings, getting to be too much for him to handle.

“Baby please make me cum,” he whines as you start to grind yourself on his leg, matching the rhythm that you’re stroking his length. Your other hand gently caresses his full sack, you know he will be cumming so much tonight and you cannot wait.

“Satoru, baby, please? Cum for me?” You let out a small moan as he rubs his leg against you for some extra friction, which simply sends him over the edge. Looking into your big sweetly innocent eyes he shoots his seed all over his abs. Neither of you even look at his cock when he cums, too mesmerized by the lust contained within the eye contact.

Finally, you let go of his penis as he catches his breath with his eyes closed. You want to give him some time to recover but not too much, because it will mess up the variable data!

“My sweet, are you ready for more?” You ask innocently already devising a plan for what you’ll do to him next.

“Whatever you want princess,” he breathes out finally opening his eyes when he has caught his breath.

You try to remain confident as you shift your weight off of his leg and swing your body around.

“Can I sit on your face please baby?” You ask again sounding way too innocent for the words coming out of your mouth. Satoru lets out a moan at the unexpected question, his cock growing hard again.

“Please, fuck yes, please let me make you feel good,” Satoru begs, grabbing your legs to help you get adjusted.

“No baby, I want to face the other way.”

“Oh,” Satoru breathes out, knowing what is coming next.

You get adjusted, your warm soaking cunt hovering over your husbands mouth, thinking about how long it has been since you’ve done this position, surely it won’t take him long to reach peak number 2.

Satoru wastes no time diving in like a starved man. That is the thing about your husband, is he loves pleasuring you almost more than he likes being pleasured himself. Seeing and hearing and feeling you feel good drives him crazy, being the reason he loves sixty-nine so much.

Pulling out all the stops tonight you lean down, licking a strip down Satoru’s abdomen, the exact line where all of his previous cum was. You lick from the bottom of his pecs down the whole way until you reach the base of his dick, proceeding to lick a stripe up and wrap your lips around his tip.

“Oh my fucking god baby that was the hottest thing ever”

Now he really starts eating you out with a passion, tongue circling your clit before plunging in your hole. You attempt to match the bobbing of your mouth on his cock but he simply goes too fast. You come off his cock to let out a guttural moan of his name, which only eggs him on further.

“I’m - I’m not going to last long - ahhha - if you keep that up S’toruuu”

“Mhmmm,” he hums against your clit, knowing how good the vibrations feel for you.

You close your eyes before going back down on his cock, feeling him twitch as you messily tongue his tip.

“-m sensitive hmm” a muffled Satoru says but you don’t care. Using your previously covered in cum hand, you run up and down his shaft while moving down to suck on his balls. This sends toe curling electricity through his body, and he reaches his arm around your thigh so he can access your tight hole with his thumb. Sucking and licking while you feel his thick thumb being sucked into you. Being as turned on as you were, a first orgasm is almost instantly ripped from you, catching both of you off guard but you moan against Satoru’s balls. The combination of feeling you convulse against his thumb plus the sensitive state of his dick in your hand sends Satoru over the edge, but he at least gets to give you a warning.

“Cummin for ya again baby please take it all,” he says barely coherent being so overtaken by pleasure. You attach your lips back to his tip and finish sucking him off until you feel cum stop coming out. You try to get off of him as gracefully as you can, moving to lay down for a minute to give you both some air. You look at the lower half of his face as he licks his lips, and you hold out your tongue showing him you swallowed all of it.

“Cmere pretty girl,” he murmurs, wrapping his right arm around your shoulders and pulling your sweaty bodies close.

“Don’t get too comfortable my baby were only half done, at least,” you smile up at him and watch as he realizes you really weren’t kidding earlier.

Once you’ve recovered from your orgasm, you crawl back on top of Satoru, but this time straddling his pelvis, his semi-hard cock under you. He still looks a little out of breath, but you’re going to do all the work so he doesn’t need to worry right?

You grind your soft wet folds against his growing erection, “can I have it in my sweet pussy this time baby?” You ask doing your best to give him puppy eyes. His eyes roll to the back of his head, humping his hips up a little to give more friction.

“You can have anything you want Princess, you’re being such a vocal good girl t’night,” he sounds out of breath, whiney, and desperate as he watches you reach your hand down to line him up with you. You smile as you playfully rub his tip on your clit.

His hands cover his face, “please. Please stop teasing me, please baby,”

Without further notice you slip him inside, slippery from the previous orgasm Satoru ripped from you.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” he whispers before a porn like moan courses through him, “y/n I’m so sensitive, I don’t think I can do it!”

You slowly ride and grind up and down his shaft, one hand on his chest to support you, the other rubbing at your clit. “Please, daddy… for me?” You emphasize that word, knowing being called that drives your husband crazy.

Satoru’s large skinny hands find the squishy sides of your hips and he squeezes hard. Not that he meant to, but there will definitely be 10 small oval bruises on your ass and hips tomorrow.

“Say it again…” he moans.

“Say what again?” You smile innocently, batting your eyelashes. With that he lifts one hand off your hip and lashes out a spank on your ass check, making your tight hole clench down on him more.

“You know what I meant.” God, something just slightly feral comes out of Gojo when you play so innocent but also act so seductive for him, especially when he hears that word from your lips.

“Daddy, I need two more orgasms from you, please?” You whine as you find a particularly good spot that his cock is rubbing inside you. It’s like your words revived Satoru’s stamina, firmly grabbing your hips again before helping you lift off and on him at almost inhuman speed. Each thrust goes so deep in you, you think you feel it in your stomach. A few more hard thrusts and he is pulling you off of him, and pushing you straight back so your back is on the bed now. He hovers above you, reclaiming his dominance, before pushing back into you with both legs dangling off his shoulders. You know he is holding out as long as he can, but he’s going to want you to cum first so he can feel you clench around his cock and push him over the edge. He leans down kissing your lips, forehead, and cheek before whispering seductively, “such a good girlll,” while emphasizing the last two words with two particularly rough thrusts. He continues his praises inbetween licks and sucks on your neck

“You looked so pretty on top princess but I just had to have my way with you,” before he leans down to suck which will surely leave a hickey. When he comes back up for air he breathlessly groans,

“And you just taste so good and your throat knows my cock so well!” You think he may be slightly going insane and wonder if orgasm numbers 3 and 4 are necessary. Moaning with him, he knows you love his dirty talk because he can feel you squeeze his cock without trying.

Satoru fucks into you with relentless speed, causing your chest to bounce up and down, and all you can do is grip onto his shoulders and let your toes curl from pleasure.

“Mmm, daddy, g’na cum for you,” you barely breathe out, getting closer to the edge as your back arches off the bed. At this he puts your legs together and pushes them back towards you, knowing exactly how to hit your favorite spot in this position.

“Come on princess, cum for daddy, that’s it,” he groans, temporarily forgetting about his overstimulated cock while being so focused on your eyes rolled back and mouth hanging open in pleasure. Just a few more thrusts and he has you squeezing his dick so tight, he knows he won’t last much longer. Your orgasm hits you, not even able to control the beautiful sounds coming out of your mouth, face red, tears threatening to spill from pure bliss. Satoru slowed his pace to let you finish your orgasm before pounding into you harder than before

“Sa-tor-u” his name comes out of your mouth broken up not being able to catch your breath.

“I-I’m gonna - toru!” Being fucking into overstimulation has made you squirt all over Satoru’s cock and lower abdomen, which puts him over the edge, two more hard thrusts before he pauses, spilling his third load of the evening into your throbbing cunt.

His breathing heavy, sweat making his usually fluffy white hair stick to his forehead and his whole body seems to be glowing from the shine of sweat covering him. God you feel so bad for him but also do you really? As he’s said before “your pussy is heaven” so like it’s not really bad that you’re giving it to him…

“Let’s get you in the shower hun,” you whisper next to his ear, having plans for how you can get at least one more orgasm out of him. Still huffing, he gets up and his glorious skinny body looks so beautiful you feel yourself getting horny again. At least you weren’t as tired as your husband!

You set out 3 fluffy clean towels from the linen closet and turn the shower on a good temperature. Satoru has his arms wrapped around you from behind as you both wait for the water to warm up. “I love you,” he says, kissing the top of your head.

“Love you too, Toru” you smile up at him, turning around in his grasp. You kiss him sensually slowly at first, on your tippy toes gently rubbing your fingers along his cheek and neck. You deepen the kiss, knowing exactly how your husband loves it. He reaches down, each hand grabbing each ass cheek and squeezing before giving you a light spank, causing you to giggle.

“Naughty girl, still haven’t had enough?” He asks down to you. Without responding you gently wrap your had around him and pull him into your beautiful giant shower. The water is perfectly hot , making your eyes roll back in relaxation. You pull Satoru under the water taking care of him first. He turns into your big baby, leaning down to let you shampoo his hair and wash his body. When you get to clean his pelvis area you gently lather his soft penis with soap. He whimpers just from you touching it, but you have to clean it! Next you fondle his balls, massaging the soap in. His erection slowly starts to grow again and you know orgasm number 4 won’t be too far away.

“My turn,” you say looking up at him and turning around so you ass rubs up against his hardening member.

Satoru pumps a generous amount of your fancy smelling body wash onto your pink loofa, his frontside still pressed up against your backside. His long arms maneuver around your smaller frame, using all his energy to make sure he washes you in every hard to reach spot, only detaching himself when he had to wash your back and ass. He ignores the boner that impossibly came back after cumming 3 times already, and thought you didn’t notice.

He opts to hang the loofa back up and uses his hands to sensually rub the soap in, starting with your tits, although they needed no extra attention. Your nipples have always been sensitive in the best way, so when he starts rubbing them you can’t help but feel your core heat up again.

“Spread your legs hun,” he whispers, barely able to hear it over the running water. You do as satoru tells you, and he runs his hands down from your chest to your folds, making sure the area is soapy and clean. Your eyes close, leaning your head back against his chest while he massages your slightly tender pussy.

You take this opportunity to reach behind you, grabbing your husbands hardened shaft, and lining it up with your slick cunt.

“Baby…” he groans, voice laced with concern.

“Shhh, it’s okay I’m going to take care of you,” you answer back and with that, push yourself back onto his cock. You both moan in unison at the connection, like a melody between the differences in your voices. You can tell Satoru is tired by his rather lazy thrusts, so you hold onto the shower wall in front of you, fucking yourself back onto him. He is back there whining and groaning uncontrollably, being such a trooper for letting you do this experiment on him.

He puts his hand over yours on the wall, while snaking his other around your waist and under you to rub at your swollen clit. Immediately when he touches it you gasp, not realizing just how sensitive it was from this evening’s fun.

“-hmygod, don’t squeeze me like that,” Satoru whimpers, you turn your head to the side to see his eyes squeezed shut, a blush covering his whole face and chest, and his abs flexing over and over.

Seeing your hot husband so worked up is just the ammunition you needed to finish this last round. You ask him to sit on the little stone bench you have in the shower, which the two of you don’t utilize enough. He sits and you turn around, reverse cowgirl, and bounce up and down with as much energy as you can.

You didn’t even realize how loud your own moans had gotten, his hands on your waist, with yours resting on his knees.

“Please Satoru, let go for me, cum for me please,” you babble and moan with your head empty. Satoru is completely pussy drunk and fucked out in a way you’ve never seen him before.

“Love you ‘Toru,” you moan out as you reach your last peak and the combination of words and friction send him over the edge. He nearly convulses, gripping your hips to the point it actually kind of hurts. No moans, whimpers, or grunts can even come out of his mouth at this point, his jaw is just slack and eyes pressed shut.

You still on his lap, he leans forward and presses his head against your shoulder, and you think you may have made him pass out.

“Babe, cmn, let’s get you out of the shower.” You stand up turning around to see your husband in all his glory, looking half dead on the shower bench with his cock softened and red. You give him and yourself one more rinse over to get the last rounds residue off and turn the water off. You help Satoru stand, although nearly a head above your height, he wraps his arms around your shoulders and lets you guide him out. You wrap his fluffy extra large towel around him and he slowly grabs the edges, just standing there letting water drip off and making no attempt to dry himself. You wrap your hair in a towel, and quickly dry your body off, tired yes, but not nearly as worn out as your husband.

You look over to him, head thrown back, holding onto the towel. You decide to pamper him for the rest of the evening, drying him off, putting his usual hair product in for him, helping him put on a clean pair of boxer briefs and crawl into bed. It’s not even 8 pm and the sun is just starting to set, you giggle but he hasn’t eaten dinner since being home from work. For christs sake he hasn’t had dessert either. He rolls onto his side scrolling through his phone as you get yourself dressed and brush through your hair.

You kiss his forehead and he tiredly smiles up at you. “Thank you babe,” you whisper, “you helped me prove that article wrong.”

His eyes roll jokingly, “well thanks to your damn article I don’t think my dick is going to work for a few days, so who’s loss is it really?”

You ignore his question, “do you want takeout babe? Are you hungry?”

“Can I just have ice cream..?” He squints up at you like a kid asking their parent to have dessert without finishing their vegetables.

“I guess..” it’s your turn to roll your eyes at him, “stay here I know how you like it.” That brings a smile to his face, snuggling into your cozy bed.

You leave the room to head to the kitchen and Satoru goes back on his phone. He googles the doctors name from the article that he noted to himself earlier and finds the email address.

Dear Doctor Yeager,

Please note that my partner and I experimented after reading your article, and I would like to inform you I am an outlier, and finished four times before nearly passing out. If you would like to do any tests on me please let me know.

- world famous Satoru Gojo

he pushes the send button as you walk back in with his ice cream.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk smut #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #jjk satoru #satoru smut #jjk requests #sugurusdiscordmoderator

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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 1 year

Text

I Will Always Find You

I WILL ALWAYS FIND YOU | Azriel x Fem!Illyrian!Reader

REQUEST(S): hello! could i request and azriel fic? where reader gets badly injured and azriel saves her? thank u so much! – (anon) hi! i saw you asking for azriel requests where reader gets kidnappped? lot of angst and fluff please! 💕💕 – (anon)

SUMMARY: Five times Azriel wanted to tell Y/n he loves her, and the one time he finally did

WARNINGS: Mentions of blood and injury, unrequited love (it’s not, Az & Y/n are just stupid), swearing, mentions of alcohol and drinking alcohol, kidnapping, one brief thought of sexy times, kind of angst but not really, and a bit of fluff

WORDS: 4.6K (oops)

NOTE: I am literally in love with the 5+1 trope so I hope this works for you both 🙂 Also I did not proof read so enjoy<3

Laughter filled the living room of the River House on the night of the Winter Solstice, and it flitted through the air, such a stark contrast to the pain and suffering they had all felt only two years prior. It sounded strange to Azriel — the joy and happiness of his friends and family. He hadn’t been sure that they were going to survive the war against Hybern, but he thanked the Mother every day that they did. He thanked the Mother that she had mercy, that she kept you alive.

Your laughter was the most contagious of the group, and Azriel couldn’t help but allow a small chuckle to leave his lips as you laughed at the gift Cassian had gotten you — a rubber practice sword, so that Cassian wouldn’t get as many bruises and scrapes while sparring with you. You smiled widely at Cassian and gave him a big hug, kissing him on the cheek in thanks. Azriel watched as you sat back down on the couch beside him, the grin still etched on your face.

“I’m thinking more drinks,” Cassian suggested, standing up and clapping his hands.

“Count me in,” Mor grinned, rising and rushing down the hall to the kitchen.

Cassian swore and chased after her, and Feyre and Rhys stood up, chasing the other two. Elain and Nesta left next, arms linked, and Amren sighed before following the group, leaving you and Azriel alone together.

Azriel cherished the moments he had alone with you. With only the two of you, it felt like all of your attention was on him, which was all he’d wanted for the past three hundred years. He wanted you, wanted every part of you. Wanted to hold you close at night and wake up with you in the morning, wanted to know what your bare skin felt like, what your lips tasted like.

But he’d never told you that, for a varying amount of reasons. The first was you deserved better – you deserved someone better than him, someone worthy of your love. You deserved someone who could offer you the love and affection you were entitled to, someone who you would want love from. Because why would you want to be loved by Azriel? He was practically invisible – as the silent shadowsinger, people rarely paid attention to him; some barely even knew he was present.

But not you. You always seemed to know when he was around – your gaze would find him in a crowded room, and you always asked for his opinion on things. But just because you cared what he was thinking, it didn’t mean that his love was requited.

“You’re not getting another drink?” you asked, taking a sip of your own.

Azriel simply shrugged. “I’m sure they’ll bring the whole bottle. Or maybe more.”

You laughed lightly, the sound filling Azriel with no small amount of warmth. He loved that he was the one who coerced that sound out of your lips, that he was the one who made your face brighter. He wanted to tell you that, but… how could he?

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, and you rested your head on his shoulder. Azriel’s mind screamed at him. Tell her that you love her! Tell her now, tell her now, tell her now! But it was just a friendly gesture – he was sure of it.

Maybe I could work up the courage…

But it didn’t matter, because laughter rang down the hall, and then Cassian was running through the living room with a bottle in hand, the others following close behind. The moment passed and you laughed at your friends’ antics, leaving Azriel to sigh internally. He wasn’t sure whether it was from disappointment or relief.

~ * ~

It was cold. That was the first thing Azriel registered as he looked around the nightmare. It was a stark contrast to the flames and burning of his own. The snow glistened in the moonlight, the only solace in the darkness of the freezing forest.

The dream faded in and out, as if there was a door opening and closing between himself and the dreamscape. But he felt cold as he curled up in the snow, his wings bleeding and shredded, his wrist sprained and thigh screaming in pain. As he raised his head, he glimpsed a flash of light reflecting off of a blade. Illyrian warriors came into view, and with a jolt, Azriel realised where he was.

Or rather, where you were. Because this nightmare… this nightmare was yours. Azriel remembered these males, remembered how he cut them down for hunting a female Illyrian for sport. He didn’t know you then — it was the first time he’d seen you. Bloody and shaking, your wings torn and broken, bone jutting out of your thigh… it was instinct that had him killing the males within seconds. Instinct that caused the roar in his head, instinct that made him need to protect you. Instinct that made him go over to you and pick you up gently, cradling you close to his body.

But in your dream, Azriel didn’t arrive. The males came closer and closer, laughing and taunting you, until they were close enough to grab your wing and snap–

Azriel awoke with a fight thrumming through his veins, the need to hurt and maim and kill screaming at him — but he was alone in his room in the House of Wind. His thundering heart slowed as he took deep breaths…

A muffled sob had his head turning sharply to the door. It was barely audible, but…

There it was again. A frantic sob, so quiet he almost didn’t hear it. He was out of bed in an instant, walking out of his room and into the hallway beyond. There was another sob from your room, and a cry of anguish. Azriel knocked, but there was no response. There was another cry of pain, and consequences be damned, Azriel opened the door.

You were twisting and turning, your scarred wings tense and tear tracks on your cheeks. You were still asleep, still stuck in that dreamscape… Azriel was at your side in a second, hesitating for only a moment before gently grabbing your shoulder.

“Y/n?” he murmured.

Another whimper. He shook your shoulder with a bit more force and you shook out of his grasp. He grabbed you again, cupping your face with one hand.

“Y/n, it’s just a dream,” he assured.

But you still did not wake up. Azriel usually wasn’t one to panic, but seeing you in this state… It made him frantic. So he mustered as much authority as he could, and ordered, “Y/n, wake up!”

Your eyes opened and you shot out of your bed, flipping him and landing on top, a dagger pressed against his throat. Had he not been worried about you, you would be on the floor, knife discarded across the room. But he stayed still as your wings flared behind you, and as your knee pressed into his chest.

“It’s okay,” he breathed, watching you carefully. “It was a dream, Y/n.”

As if saying your name had snapped you out of a trance, you stumbled back, removing the weapon from his throat and trembling slightly. Azriel rose from the bed, surveying you carefully. Your hand still clutched your dagger, the knuckles of your hands bone white.

“I – I’m sorry,” you whispered, horror in your eyes as you glimpsed the trickle of blood running down his throat. He hadn’t even realised you’d drawn blood, and he resisted the urge to wipe it away.

“It’s okay,” he assured.

You shook your head, pressing your palms into your eyes, your breathing coming in short bursts. Once again, it was instinct that had him walking over to you and bringing you into his embrace. You readily accepted it, your arms wrapping around his middle as sobs racked through your entire body. Azriel whispered assurances into your hair, pressing feather-light kisses there as he consoled you.

He wanted to chase away every nightmare, to hold you close and tell you how much he loved you — by the Cauldron, the words were on the tip of his tongue… but you had started to pull away. When you pulled away, he felt the loss of your warmth like a slap to the face. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trembling. The words died on his tongue – you didn’t need a love confession right now.

“Are you okay?” Azriel asked, and then mentally hit himself. Of course you weren’t okay – you’d just re-lived one of the most traumatising moments of your life. The fact that he’d seen your dream… he didn’t let himself think about what that meant. Perhaps his shadows had been too curious.

“I will be,” you mumbled. You hesitated, and then added, “Thank you, for waking me up.”

Azriel understood the dismissal in your tone and dipped his head in a nod before heading to the door. Your breathing hitched as he walked away, and he paused in the doorway, his mind and heart and soul screaming at him to tell you – to tell you how he wanted to hold you through the night, how he wanted to learn every inch of you, to know all of your secrets and darkest desires…

But would you want to know his? Would you want him if you knew every despicable thing he’d done, every way he’d torn people apart? He doubted it, so he left the room, just as you wanted him to.

~ * ~

The fire crackled in Azriel’s office as he tapped his pen against his desk. He hated writing reports – it was his least favourite part of his job by far. The only thing that made it bearable was your presence. You sat in one of the plush armchairs, legs draped over the armrest and a book in your hand.

Azriel found himself getting distracted by you, as he usually did. He just knew he could stare at you for hours on end, even if you were doing something as simple as reading. He would watch you finish the book and then start another, if only to watch the way your lips curved up as you read something humorous, or the way your eyes sparkled when the love interest finally confessed their love for the main character.

Azriel wished he could build up the courage to confess his love to you. It had only been last night that he had seen into your nightmare, and though his soul screamed a single word over and over in his mind, he chalked it up to his shadows being more invasive than they should have.

Because the word his soul cried out, the word that could change everything… it couldn’t be true. In fact, it was too good to be true. Because there was no way the Mother had promised him to you, and you him. Because Illyrian males made you jumpy and uncomfortable, always putting you on edge. How could you love a male of the race that had hunted you down for sport, intending on violating and hurting you in unforgivable ways?

Even so, you weren’t jumpy around him. Granted, he had saved you, had offered you a home in Velaris, had trained you so that you could defend yourself against even the most fearsome of warriors, but…

But nothing, he realised. You didn’t fear him, didn’t run away when you could. You’d had centuries to leave if you wanted to, but you had chosen to stay. Stay with him. He looked up at your lounging form, watching as you turned a page. You seemed at peace here with him, as if you’d never needed to look further.

I love you, I love you, I love you. He wanted to say the words aloud, wanted to say them between breathless kisses, wanted to say them as you writhed beneath him, pleasure filling every pore of both your bodies.

“Azriel.”

Azriel was brought back to reality as you spoke his name, and he realised he’d been staring at you. He refused to blush, refused to let you see how much you affected him – but you weren’t looking at him. Your book was closed, and you were looking at the ground, almost shamefully. He cocked his head in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” he inquired.

You still refused to look at him, instead fiddling with a loose thread on the armchair. You stood up and began to pace, wringing your fingers. It took a few moments, but you finally opened your mouth to speak.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised. “For last night.”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” he murmured.

You shook your head, tears forming in your eyes. “Azriel, I hurt you–”

Azriel was walking to you in an instant, standing by your side. He took your hand in his and squeezed lightly, in an attempt to offer you assurance. “Y/n, it was a natural reaction. I’m sure I would have done the same thing, had the roles been reversed.”

You looked up at him with silver lining your eyes, and before he could overthink it, he pulled you into his arms. You fit perfectly in his arms, as if the two of you had been carved to hold each other. You melted into his embrace, wrapping your arms around him, and holding him as if he was a lifeline. The way you fit just had the words at the tip of his tongue; I love you… But you didn’t need that right now. You needed comfort — you needed a friend. And so Azriel held you, withholding the words that were begging to be spoken.

~ * ~

Starfall had not yet begun, but the celebrations had. Azriel stood by the balcony, overlooking the sea of people who awaited Starfall. Azriel loved Starfall; he loved that everyone came together for it, no matter how far or long they had to travel. It was another one of the few nights that the inner circle could spend time together, letting loose and celebrating.

Not that Azriel tended to let loose. Sure, he’d have a few drinks, but he never got as wild as Cassian or Mor. They drank enough for him, and then some.

“Hey.”

Azriel turned at the sound of your voice, opening his mouth to offer his own greeting — but nothing came out as he took in the image of you. You wore a cream coloured dress that sparkled like the stars in the sky, hugging your curves and showing off your gorgeous figure. The dress pooled at your feet, and Azriel couldn’t help but stare. Words couldn’t describe how you looked — words such as ethereal, divine, and enchanting came close, but Azriel doubted that there was a single word that could capture the extent of your beauty.

“I — hi,” Azriel got out, quickly averting his gaze, lest he never look away from you again.

You walked up beside him and rested against the railing with him. Azriel liked that you didn’t feel the need to fill the silence — he liked that you could sit with him without speaking, just taking in each other’s company.

There was just so much about you that Azriel loved, and he didn’t want to keep it a secret. He wanted to tell you, wanted you to know. Azriel hid so many parts of his life from everyone, but he wanted to share it with you, share it all with you. He looked at you from the corner of his eye, only to see you already looking at him.

I love you, I love you, I love you! Just say it, you idiot!

“Y/n,” Azriel began, turning his body to face yours.

You responded instantly, your actions mirroring his, so that the two of you were facing each other. This close to you, the sounds of the party disappeared, turning into a muted lull. All he could see, hear, or think about was you.

“Y/n, I’m–”

The sounds of cheers erupted and Azriel turned his head, spying the first star hurtling across the sky, turning and twisting in its glory. It shone bright as it crossed the vast expanse of the night sky, and hundreds more followed. Azriel turned back to you, only to find you captivated by the stars. He smiled slightly at the sight, at the pure joy in your eyes.

Maybe there would never be a good time to tell you. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to tell you. So Azriel took a deep breath, and let it go.

~ * ~

“Oh, come on, Y/n…”

Azriel watched as you sighed through your nose and shook your head. “I have to be up early tomorrow, Mor. You know I’d go if that wasn’t the case.”

Mor looked to Azriel hopefully. “Az?”

Azriel shook his head, and Mor rolled her eyes. “At least you’ve got everyone else.”

Mor sighed dramatically and threw her arms around you, squeezing tight. After a moment she let go, linking her arms with Cassian and Feyre, dragging them to Rita’s for another night of drinking, dancing, and revelling.

Azriel watched as you sighed after them wistfully, no doubt wanting to lose yourself in the music and rhythm of the pleasure hall. But it was true – you had a mission the very next day, and you had to be gone by dawn.

“You can go with them, you know,” you say, looking at Azriel.

He turned to face you, cocking his head slightly. “What do you mean?”

“You’re not going because I can’t,” you said, causing him to shake his head, but you persisted, “You never go when I can’t. You always walk me home, or stay with me.”

Azriel gulped slightly, wondering if this was it. If this was the night he would finally tell you — tell you that he never went out if you weren’t going because he didn’t want to be parted from you. If this was the night he was to tell you that he actually enjoyed it when you couldn’t go out, because it meant that the two of you could spend more time together.

“I just don’t like going out all that much,” Azriel replied, adding a slight shrug. “Besides, it’s… nicer with just you.”

Azriel refused to blush, refused to let you know how nervous just saying those simple words made him. But you looked up at him with a small smile, not knowing at all what was going on through his mind.

“Yeah, I like being with just you, too,” you admitted, looking up at him with bright eyes.

Once again, Azriel’s heart was screaming at him, screaming to tell you how much he loved you, how much he craved you and needed you, but… he couldn’t. Because although his heart was screaming at him that it must be love, that you must be his mate, his head told him that it wasn’t true. He didn’t deserve you, didn’t deserve someone as wonderful and strong as you.

So he just smiled in response, and walked you home.

~ * ~

Azriel paced around his office, spinning Truth Teller in his hands. You hadn’t come back from your mission yet, and Azriel was… well, he was panicking. He knew you’d be able to take care of yourself, but what if you’d been hurt? What if you were in the middle of nowhere, bleeding out? Thoughts and scenarios played out in Azriel’s mind, and he knew he was overthinking, knew that there had probably been some sort of hold up…

But what if it wasn’t? Azriel had no idea what to do, no idea how to find you and help you if you were dying somewhere. How would he even know if you were?

The door to his office opened to reveal Rhys. Azriel searched his High Lord’s face, praying to the Mother that you had returned safely, but Rhys’s eyes held a hint of despair.

“She’s not back?” Azriel inquired, to which Rhys shook his head.

“Can you find her?” Rhys asked.

Azriel nodded, and winnowed to the area where your mission was supposed to occur, but he could not find a single trace of you. He was unsure if you were hiding from him, or if you were simply not there. His shadows scoured the entire place, but nothing.

Azriel took a deep breath to calm his erratically beating heart. He just needed to find you, to ensure that you were safe. He peered into himself, into his heart and soul, and felt for the bond. Even if he still wouldn’t admit it fully to himself, he knew the two of you shared a connection, a connection that transcended every other relationship Azriel shared. The bond was almost like a string of pure light, and Azriel tugged on it. He tugged softly at first, testing the waters, before pulling it blindly and sharply. After a moment, he felt a pull in return, albeit smaller and weaker than his own. But he knew where he had to go, and he allowed his shadows to winnow him to you.

He arrived and his senses were immediately filled with the scent of blood, the copperry tang causing his nose to wrinkle. He stood outside a cave in the Illyrian Mountains, a cave not too far from where he first met you on that night three-hundred and forty-seven years ago. And suddenly, Azriel knew what had happened. He smelled the tang of pain and fear in the air — your pain and fear.

With his Siphons glowing and a rage that ran deeper than the pits of Hell, Azriel entered the cave with his blades drawn. The Illyrian male beside the entrance to the cave didn’t even have time to draw his weapon before his head was tumbling from his shoulders. The other males turned at the sound of Azriel’s blade slicing through flesh, tendon, and bone, and as one, the colour drained from their faces. With his shadows swirling behind him like a sea of darkness, blood splattered across his face and chest, and eyes full of a glittering, icy rage, Azriel knew he looked like Death incarnate.

The males barely had a chance to scream before he was upon them, slicing and stabbing. Azriel only wanted to incapacitate them, wanted to take his time peeling them apart for what they had done to you, but the killing rage took over, and before he knew it, five males lay dead at his feet.

A small sob brought him back to his senses, and his head jerked up to where you were chained to the wall, bloodied and broken. He took a step forward before pausing, unsure of how to proceed. Azriel swallowed and lowered his wings in an attempt to make him appear less threatening.

“Y/n?” he tried, stepping closer.

“Azriel,” you got out.

He heard the hope in your voice and immediately stepped closer, his eyes on the chains that trapped you. He touched it and his shadows recoiled — the chains had been imbued with some sort of spell that suppressed magic. It only took his shadows a few seconds to find the keys, and he freed you from the grasp of the spelled metal.

With nothing to hold you up, you collapsed into Azriel’s arms. After a quick lookover, he judged your injuries much worse than he’d feared, and panic started to creep in.

“Hey, hey,” Azriel murmured. “You’ll be okay.”

He slipped an arm under your legs and behind your back, picking you up and holding you close to him. He could feel your heart beating faintly, as if it was his own. Your eyes had fluttered closed, and he held you tight and winnowed back to Velaris, right into Madja’s office. The older healer jumped slightly, a pen nearly falling from her fingers, but she quickly jumped into action.

“Lay her down here, Shadowsinger,” Madja commanded, gesturing to a cot.

Azriel did so, although he never physically parted with you. His hand gripped your own, and Madja knelt down, her hands glowing as she held them over your body, healing broken bones and the other various injuries you had sustained. A cup of a lavender potion was held above your mouth.

“Drink, Y/n,” Azriel ordered.

As if you would never dream of disobeying him, you did as he asked, despite your half-conscious state. Your eyes fluttered closed again.

“Talk to her,” Madja demanded as she worked. “She’s fading in and out. You need to keep her here.”

“Please, Y/n,” Azriel begged. His icy demeanour was gone, and all one could see was the warmth and love he harboured for you. “Please, Y/n. I… I need you here, darling. Don’t leave me…” Azriel took a deep breath. “I love you, Y/n, and if you stay, if you survive, I swear I’ll tell you. I’ve wanted to tell you for centuries, but… it never felt like the right time. Please, Y/n…”

“Azriel,” you muttered, your hand squeezing his weakly.

“Yes, Y/n, my love,” Azriel murmured, squeezing back. “Just stay with me.”

Azriel reached inwards again, reached into his heart and soul, and tugged on the string that bound the two of you. You jerked slightly at the sensation, your eyes fluttering open. Despite how exhausted you were, despite the pain and injuries wearing you down, your eyes found Azriel’s. He saw the word in your eyes, saw the word he’d been denying to himself over and over again.

As Madja healed you, as your injuries stitched themselves back together with her magic, your eyes became clearer, more alert. They never left Azriel, and his never left you. Neither of you spoke — there were no words that could be said in that moment. When Madja finally finished, she ducked out of the room, sensing the tension between you two.

“I survived,” you said finally, your eyes searching his.

Azriel let out a small huff of laughter. “I suppose you did.” He took a deep breath. “Y/n, I love you. I love your smile, I love your determination, I love your laugh… I love everything about you. I have loved you for centuries, and I will love you for the centuries to come, if you let me.”

Silver lined your eyes as you smiled up at him. “You’ve loved me for centuries?”

Azriel nodded, “From the moment I met you.”

You took in a shuddering breath, emotions overwhelming you. Azriel felt something in his chest, felt a small tug, and he looked at you in surprise as he felt the bond. You stared at him, almost in surprise.

“This is how you found me,” you whispered.

Azriel nodded. “I will always find you.”

He couldn’t form words to describe it, anyway — had no idea how he knew it would work. There was just a feeling that he had, a need to keep you safe, just like he had when he had first found you in the snowy forest, broken and bleeding. He now knew it was the bond that had sent him over the edge, the bond that had his blood boiling and rage and death running through his veins.

“I’ve loved you for so long, Az,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his face lightly.

Azriel leaned into the touch, relishing in the contact between your bodies. He let out a shaky breath, knowing that this was it. This was the moment he had waited centuries for, the moment that he had dreamt of for so long.

“You’re my mate,” you whispered.

“And you’re mate,” Azriel echoed.

You smiled slightly, your thumb brushing lightly over his cheek. Azriel’s hand reached up and cupped yours, and the warmth in your eyes nearly made him melt.

“I love you, Y/n,” Azriel murmured.

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you, Azriel. And I will always find you, too.”

azriel taglist: @ruleroftides @officiallyjaehyuns (let me know if you'd like to be added to my azriel tag list!)

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blurredpurplemint · 9 months

Note

Ooo can u do jealous bi han scenario/one shot?

i didn’t have inspiration at first but it suddenly came to me, like, ok why not. was supposed to be short but is kinda more than i anticipated (0.4k words). lot of dialogue cuz i suck at description lol. not proof read (will do it later, maybe, i’m tired, its 3 am, i have school, i’m talking way too much, gn)

───────────────────────────

you've been tasked with organizing the cleaning tools and supplies as it's your responsibility to take care of cleaning the backyard today.

while absorbed in the task, you failed to notice someone entering the room.

“so this where you were…”

caught off guard, you dropped what you were holding.

“by the gods! you- wait. how did you know i was there?”

“unimportant.”

you sighed as you picked up what you had dropped.

“i swear you almost scared me to death…”

“death may be imminent for you depending on your answer to my oncoming question.”

you paused, reflecting on his words with closed eyes and furrowed brows, then shook your head.

“ok… what have i done?”

you replied as you continued with your task.

“don't assume I overlooked your actions with that foolish monk.”

you quickly turned around to gauge his expression, and you could discern his anger beneath the mask. the least you could said was that you were doomed.

“who? raiden?”

“the other foolish monk.”

in an instant, everything made sense in your thoughts.

“ohhhh… kung lao! haha…”

“is this amusing to you?”

“it's just that... i don't understand what you're accusing me of.”

“quit feigning ignorance; you know exactly what I'm referring to.”

you huffed.

“if only!”

you pivoted entirely to confront him.

“why not be more direct about what I've done wrong? it could help us make progress. just saying.”

“what was the reason for him holding you earlier?”

“ohhhh…”

you recalled the events from this morning.

“explain.”

you waved your hand at him, dispelling his concerns.

“it was nothing; i just lightly twisted my ankle, that's all.”

“what?”

he nearly rushed to you, but you halted him in his tracks.

“bi-han, i said "lightly." it was truly nothing, just a slight twinge of pain. that's why kung lao got a bit carried away and assisted me.”

he huffed, swiftly raising his chin in disdain.

“he didn't just assist; he practically enveloped you.”

“if you had witnessed the entire scene, you would have observed me leaping out of his arms.”

“i should consider tearing his arms off for this.”

“huuum, sexy~”

“alright, I'm done dealing with your attitude.”

you began to laugh at his irritated expression, prompting a deadly glare from him. he then turned away to leave.

“oh come on! don't give me the cold shoulder now!”

you spoke amid laughter.

he halted, slowly pivoting to cast upon you the most exasperated expression.

“oop- no pun intended!”

his sigh was so deep and prolonged it caused the room temperature to plummet by at least five degrees which elicited a shiver from you.

you shrugged apologetically, wearing a sorry smile, and approached him slowly. softly chuckling, you ran your hand over his torso, eliciting an eye roll of annoyance from him due to your feeble attempts to soothe his nerves. he subtly made sure you weren't limping.

“don't be upset with me. you're well aware that I have no interest in him.”

he didn't respond but glanced back at you with a raised eyebrow, prompting a smile from you. you couldn't resist the urge to tease him.

“you are incredibly cute when jealousy surfaces, grandmaster.”

“i am not.”

“oh yes, you are!”

you spoke as you gently tapped his torso.

“whatever you stance, i’ll leave you to it. i have duties to fulfill.”

he said as he walked past you, intentionally bumping into you to clear his way. you let out a small whine in response to his abruptness.

“bi-han! we are not done here!”

“in my perspective, we are.”

you sighed, crossing your arms. you knew he was thickheaded before, but now he's just downright childish.

you watched him leave, but he suddenly halted in his tracks and spoke without turning back.

“i will meet you tonight… we’ll dine out.”

you gasped in excitement, placing your hand over your mouth to suppress your laughter.

“ow… you big softie <3”

he grunted and shook his head, immediately regretting his statement.

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sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts · 2 months

Note

My Marcus thoughts involve rope

yeah…Roman Shibari with Marcus…. mmmmmmm

Oops..started drifting there

⤷ Credits: the ask

Summary: PWP

Warnings: SMUT, creampie, shibari, praise, degradation, switch vibes

A/n: ok so this took a sec bc research i hope you like it

“Oh shit,” you moaned, riding Marcus with a feverish determination. His hands were tied securely behind his back, but that didn’t stop his hips from driving up into you with brutal force. Each thrust was relentless, his cock filling you completely, pushing you towards the edge.

“Fuck, tight little thing,” Marcus groaned, his voice thick with lust. “Need you to beg for me, baby.”

“Please, please, sir,” you gasped, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, I-I want it!”

The stimulation was overwhelming, your body trembling with the intensity of it all. Normally, Marcus would be down for the count after one or two big O’s, but now his chest was heaving, his hips maintaining a punishing pace against yours. Your walls were slick with a mix of your juices and his, the milky ropes of his arousal creating an obscene symphony of wet sounds with each thrust.

You could feel the pressure building, your body on the brink of shattering pleasure. “Sweetheart,” you panted, looking down at Marcus with wide, pleading eyes.

“Yeah?” he smirked, his eyes dark with desire.

“My hands,” you breathed, needing a moment to collect yourself.

“Oh right,” you murmured, sliding off him. You felt his cum dripping down your thigh as you untied his hands, your fingers trembling with anticipation. Just as you started to wrap up the rope, he stopped you, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“What?” you asked, your heart racing.

Marcus’s eyes gleamed with a mixture of mischief and hunger. “We’re not done yet,” he growled, grabbing the rope from your hands. He pulled you back towards him, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss that left you breathless. His hands, now free, roamed over your body, igniting every nerve ending in their path.

He spun you around, pushing you down onto the bed, his body hovering over yours. “You think you can just untie me and walk away?” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. His hands, now free, moved with a practiced ease, quickly securing your wrists together with the rope.

You felt a thrill of anticipation as Marcus’s fingers danced over your skin, expertly wrapping the rope around your body in intricate patterns. The sensation was electrifying, each loop and knot sending shivers down your spine. He worked with a focused intensity, binding you in a beautiful and intricate shibari hold that left you feeling both vulnerable and exhilarated.

As he finished the final knot, he stepped back to admire his handiwork. “Perfect,” he murmured, his eyes dark with desire. He trailed his fingers along the lines of the rope, each touch igniting a fire within you.

Marcus leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “How does that feel, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice a low, seductive purr.

“It’s… amazing,” you breathed, your heart pounding in your chest. The tightness of the ropes, combined with the anticipation of what was to come, was almost too much to bear.

He chuckled softly, his hand moving to gently caress your cheek. “Good,” he said. “Now, let’s see how much pleasure you can handle.”

With that, Marcus positioned himself behind you once more. He slid his hard length against your wet heat, teasing you mercilessly, his cock slick with your combined juices from earlier. When he pulled back, he paused with the tip at your entrance, making you ache with anticipation. You tilted your hips, desperate for him, and he nestled the weeping head of his cock right at your core. His hand guided his shaft until he was lined up perfectly.

He slowly pushed halfway into you, and you sharply inhaled as his girth stretched your inner walls. The sensation of his fresh release still inside you added to the intense feeling, making you even more sensitive. He retreated an inch or two, sliding his free hand under your neck, then clamping it over your mouth as he plunged into you full force. You moaned into his hand, the sound muffled but still audible, a raw expression of the pleasure coursing through you.

The obscene squelching noises filled the room as his cock slid in and out, mixing with the wet, lewd sounds of your bodies colliding. Marcus groaned, the vibrations traveling through his chest into your back. "Fuck, you’re so tight," he growled, each word dripping with lust. "Need you to beg for me, baby."

"Please, please, sir," you answered quickly, your voice trembling against his hand. "Please, I-I want it!"

He chuckled darkly, pulling out almost entirely before slamming back into you. "Look at you," he taunted, his voice a dangerous whisper. "Moments ago, you were in control, riding me like you owned me. Now, you're just a mess under me, aren't you?"

His words, combined with his relentless thrusts, sent you spiraling. He drove into you over and over, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful stroke. "My girl's takin' it so well, ain't she? Made for getting fucked."

His pace was brutal, each thrust hitting deep, his cock filling you completely. "God, you're so fuckin' tight, squeezing me so good, baby."

You could barely think, the pleasure overwhelming, every nerve ending alight. "Soak my dick, sweetheart," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "Get it wet. Mhm, just like that."

Your body responded instinctively, your arousal slicking his length as he pounded into you. The sounds of your bodies meeting were obscene, wet and raw. He gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he drove you closer and closer to the edge.

"Beg for it," he demanded, his thrusts becoming even more urgent. "Beg for me to let you come."

"Please," you whimpered, your voice barely more than a breath. "Please, Marcus, I need it. I need to come."

"That's it, baby," he purred, his hand moving from your mouth to your clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts. "Come for me. Let me feel you."

The combination of his cock and his fingers pushed you over the edge. Your orgasm ripped through you, your body convulsing around him, squeezing him tight. Marcus groaned, a primal sound of satisfaction, as he continued to drive into you, prolonging your pleasure.

He followed you into bliss, his release filling you as he shuddered with the force of his climax. He collapsed beside you, both of you panting and spent. For a moment, you lay there in silence, the only sound the rapid beating of your hearts.

Finally, Marcus reached over to untie the ropes, his fingers gentle as they worked to free you. “You okay?” he asked, concern mingling with the afterglow of satisfaction in his eyes.

“More than okay,” you replied, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. “That was… incredible.”

Marcus pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you in a tender embrace. “Good,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

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builtbybrokenbells · 1 year

Text

The Green-Eyed Monster

After a particularly shitty day, refuge in alcohol seems like the best option to help Jake recover from his poor mood. Y/n, his long time girlfriend joins him and his bandmates at the bar with high hopes to salvage the night. Jealousy, which had never been in Jake’s vocabulary, makes its first groundbreaking presence and laughs at its own disastrous effects.

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 17k (oops 🤭)

Warnings: SMUT 18+ (actual filth), unprotected sex (wrap it), borderline hate-fucking, rough sex, oral (m!receiving), oral (f!receiving), fingering, dom/sub, degradation, name-calling, slapping, spanking, overstimulation, forced orgasm, touch of bratty sub, biting, mutual masturbation, praise, pet-names, swearing, jealousy, possessiveness, drinking, toxic themes, angst (with a happy ending, pinky promise), arguments, probably definitely missed some, sorry!!

Here’s some filthiness with a touch of toxicity and angst because my last few posts were a bit too sweet 🥰 had to switch it up somehow. got a little carried away with this bad boy. had to cut some out cause i got too into it, so if it seems a little fast paced at the end, please keep that in mind! just couldn’t stop myself. it’s long, smutty, intense and does end well, i promise 😃 also very poorly proof-read cause i can’t sleep and decided to post this tonight instead of tomorrow, so please be nice. as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻

also, side note: all of the love I’ve received for Picasso has made my heart incredibly happy. I was very nervous posting it, and you guys really eased my worry. I appreciate you all dearly, your kindness makes me want to keep writing ♥️

Jake was in a terrible mood, and there was no doubt about that. Perhaps in the beginning, the idea of a lighthearted night at the bar was intriguing; something to take his mind off his mistakes in the studio earlier that morning, and hopefully to make up for his and Josh’s incessant bickering. It didn’t take long for that idea to turn sour in his mind, too. By the time you both realized it wasn’t going to brighten his spirits, you were already clad in a miniskirt and low cut body suit, hanging over the bar-top to tip the bartender. He thought it best to keep his mood to himself and just try to enjoy the sight of you all dressed up. It worked for a while; the tension remained minimal due to his hand permanently anchored to your hip, reminding him of all he had to be grateful for.

Once he’d gotten a few drinks into him, the familiar smile you loved so much started to grace his lips. The tension in his shoulders melted slightly, leaving him lax against the back of the dirty bar booth. His protective grip around your waist had turned into a loose hang over your shoulders, gently guiding you into his side with a loving undertone. Every so often, he even managed a laugh at his brothers antics, leaving you to believe the night may still be saved. But, only to your trained eye, you could still notice the cloud of irascible energy in his eyes.

You were quite certain that when he’d arrived back to your shared home earlier that day, the bedroom would never recover from the shock of the pornographic scene. You’d been able to pick up on his frustration through limited texts, only to have the speculation solidified when you finally caught sight of the expression on his face as he walked through the front door. When it never came, an uneasiness settled in your stomach. Jake’s favourite method of stress-relief was fucking you, which was always quite fine by you. Knowing that he still had all of the pent up anger left you conscious of the fact the night was teetering on a thin line; if it went well, no harm nor foul. If not, you were going to have to plan ahead for a rest and recovery period.

You were more than shocked when your long-term boyfriend pitched the idea of joining his brothers at the bar. In his ill-temper, he usually turned into a bit of a recluse. But, you thought it best to go along with the idea. If he thought it would cheer him up, you were happy to oblige, and never complained about seeing his band mates. They’d turned into the best of friends over the years, and they were your favourite company to keep aside from Jake. You opted to believe it couldn’t be the worst idea in the world. So that’s where you ended up: sitting in a bar booth with Jake wrapped around you and laughing alongside the other three boys.

They’d picked a small bar that you all frequented. It had low traffic and strong drinks to keep spirits high. There were dart boards, pool tables, complimentary table peanuts and some slot machines if you ever decided to try your luck. They kept a steady stream of dad rock flowing through the sound system when the karaoke wasn’t open to the public, and the bartenders had grown into acquaintances over the months of regular visits. If you were to go to any bar, this was the perfect one to choose. You all had yet to have a bad experience, aside from an occasional wandering hand from a too-drunk regular, or a drunken snide comment that was easily brushed off. The night was destined to be good, assuming Jake was kept in good spirits.

You picked up a shelled peanut, cracking the soft exterior with your thumb. You took one half of the shell and placed it on your napkin, and took the other one and tossed it across the booth. It hit Sam in the side of the head, as he was turned to speak to Danny who was beside him. He whipped his head towards you, the soft thud of the impact catching his attention. He immediately knew the culprit, as you’d been doing it intermittently the entire time you’d been there. You gave him a sweet smile, one filled with innocence, as if to say you would never do such a thing. His accusatory stare made it difficult to hold back laughter. He picked up the shell, which had fallen anticlimactically to the table, and tossed it back in your direction. It bounced off your chin and dropped down into your shirt, causing an eye roll from you. Sam pointed a finger at you, a silent warning not to do it again. You picked it from your cleavage and placed it with the rest of the waste atop the napkin. You vowed to leave him alone, just long enough for him to forget about it, then strike again.

Josh, who was caught in conversation with his twin brother, suddenly smacked his palms against the tabletop, catching you by surprise and making you jump. You turned your attention to him, eager to know what the disturbance was about. “Drinks!” He announced. “One for you, brother dearest?” He asked Jake. He gave him a nod. Josh’s eyes trailed to your glass, noticing the liquid threatening the end and muddled with melted ice. “And for you, pretty lady?” He asked, flashing a smile. Nobody else noticed, but Jake’s eye gave a small twitch, and his jaw clenched at the term of endearment.

“Another Mojito, please.” You grinned, not willing to pass up an offer of a free drink. He had no worries buying them for you. You and Josh had been playing the same game for half a decade; he’d do something nice for you, and you’d hit him back with something even better the next time. The timeless battle had begun after you both had realized arguments of payments and repayments were getting you nowhere. Jake had found it endearing, never a worry in his mind about anything non-platonic. He trusted you with his life, as he did with Josh. He was more than happy that you were so close with his brothers, and would be the first to speak up if he were uncomfortable. But, the war had gone to extremes by times, ranging from signed albums from big music names they’ve met, to rarity collectors editions of his absolute favourite films. If the tally was still running, the amount of money and thought you’d put into each other would be unfathomable.

You looked over to your boyfriend, picking up on the sullen attitude once more. He caught your eye and you gave him an inquisitive look, but he just shook his head. You thought it best not to push him, instead leaning over to place a kiss on his cheek. Before you pulled away, he turned and gave you a real kiss, holding you there for a moment. When he pulled back, he gave you a small smile. You felt your nerves fizzle away, finding comfort in the small gesture. He was really good with always making sure you knew he wasn’t mad at you while he was generally upset. It was a small, constant reassurance that helped guide you through his occasional short temper.

When Josh returned, he placed everyone’s respective drink in front of them. “Thanks, darlin’.” You smiled, stirring the drink with your straw. You took a sip, a hum of gratitude immediately sounding from you. Mindless chatter ensued for a few moments, nothing of importance being spoken into existence. Then, the music over the speakers started to get louder and the lights were dimmed. The trashy coloured lights surrounding the dance floor flicked on, letting everyone know the time had hit double digits. A familiar note sounded, causing you to perk up instantly. Josh caught your eye, raising his eyebrow and nodding to the open dance area.

Without a second thought, you jumped up, reaching your hand out to him. It was a simple action, one that you’d done thousands of times over the years of you and Jake dating, and it had never been an issue. Jake was not a dancer, and you were sure he never would be. You theorized he may even try to skip out on your first dance at your wedding. Josh, on the other hand, was always happy to pick up the slack in that department.

You were a lighthearted spirit, one who loved fun and didn’t care about wandering eyes or judgment, not caring if your dancing or singing was making a fool of you. It was something that drew Jake to you in the first place, and he loved watching the sparkle in your eye as you lived your life to the fullest. He was usually happy that someone was always willing to dance with you; it ensured you were safe and it gave you someone to share a memory with. He was usually quite encouraging of Josh’s antics, especially because it meant the spotlight was off of him and he wouldn’t have to join you on the dance floor. He would never stop you from enjoying yourself, but certain things, as you’d come to understand, were just not Jake-esque.

That night, the sight of you so close with his brother, singing the song back to each other and him twirling you around, set him on fire. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was Josh’s unwavering pet names for you, or the way he always looked at you like he was head over heels for you, or the constant comments of Josh telling him how lucky he was. Or, how it looked like Josh was adding to your light, when in turn, sometimes Jake felt like he dimmed it. Especially on nights like that one, in particular, when he was perpetually angry and wasn’t sure how to shake it off. Or, maybe Jake was still pissed off at Josh’s critique and jabs at the studio when Jake was struggling to play his solos. Whatever it was, for the first time in his life, he was jealous of you and Josh. If looks could kill, his twin brother would have been on the floor.

“You okay?” Sam asked, picking up on Jake’s glare in the direction of the dance floor. His jaw was hard-set, knuckles white from the grip on his glass. Jake turned to face his younger brother, breaking out of the trance he’d found himself stuck in.

“Yeah.” Was all he replied, taking a long drink from his cup.

“It’s just Josh and y/n, they’ve always been like that. You’ve got nothing to worry about, brother.” Sam tried to ease the tension.

“Have they, though?” Jake snipped back, almost immediately. “Like that?” Sam and Danny looked towards you both, studying your actions for a moment. Eventually, they shrugged and gave a nod.

“Yeah.” Sam said, not finding anything out of the ordinary. “Come on, man. Josh would never do that to you, and neither would she. Y/n’s been head over heels for you since the day you met her.” Jake sent a look of warning to his sibling, silently telling him to stop trying to make the situation better. Jake knocked back the last of his drink, letting the bottom of the glass fall back on the table with a thud. Without another word, he stood and went to the bar.

As he waited for the bartender to fix his next drink, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander back over to you. He expected you both to filter back to the booth when the song ended, but the next tune caught your attention, too. Josh had his hand on your hip, and yours was loosely hung around his neck. You were close to him, but not provocatively close. Still, to Jake, it was more than enough to get his blood boiling. You were laughing at him singing the lyrics to you, swaying your hips in time to the beat. Even in his jealousy, he couldn’t help but admire your beauty. The wrinkles forming in the corner of your eyes, the radiant grin, the way your hair cascaded down and framed your face. He thought you were breathtaking, and for once, he was envious he wasn’t up dancing with you, instead.

He hadn’t realized the song had ended until you presented yourself in front of him, breathless and buzzing with joy. He felt himself soften slightly when you wrapped your arm around his midsection and leaned into him. “Hi, handsome.” He could tell you were tipsy; he could hear it in your words. He let his hand fall from his drink, bringing it to your face and running his thumb over your cheek. The anger seemed to melt away as soon as you touched him, and he was fully engrossed in your presence. The thought of you dancing with Josh became a distant memory to him as soon as you stood on your tip-toes and placed a kiss on his lips. “What’s wrong?” You whispered, concern thick in your voice. He looked down at your face, not knowing exactly how to answer.

“I… I’m okay.” He assured you, leaning down for another kiss. He realized he may have been a bit irrational, especially now that you were with him, showing him ten times more affection than you were with his brother.

“You can talk to me, honey.” You pried just a little, hoping he might open up. He snaked his free hand around your waist, letting it rest dangerously low on your back.

“Think I just needed a kiss.” He brushed your concern off, but you could still sense the indifference in his voice.

“Whatever you say.” You hummed, turning towards the bar. He kept his hand on your lower back, but turned with you. He grabbed his drink and sipped at it while you caught the bartenders attention. He rushed over, giving you a smile.

“Mojito?” He asked. You nodded enthusiastically, happy he remembered your order. He grabbed all of the ingredients, making small talk with you while he made your drink. “You’ve got some good dance moves.” He complimented. You let out a small laugh.

“Thanks, the really good ones only come out when I’m drinking.” You joked.

“We’ll have to keep them coming your way, then.” He said, placing the new cup in front of you. “There you go, beautiful.” The fire that had died down in Jake reignited as if the bartender had poured a gallon of gasoline on it. You noticed his grip on you tightened, and when you looked up you saw the tension of the muscles in his jaw. Jake grabbed his wallet and pulled out a bill. He threw it on the counter and guided you away before you could respond. You looked up at him, noticing the vibration of anger in his hands.

“Jake, what is going on with you?” You only let him lead you away so far before planting your feet on the ground, forcing him to stop with you. He turned his head towards you, eyes filled with an emotion you had never really seen from him before.

“Me?” He snapped. You recoiled at the harshness of his voice. You could see him soften a bit, but he was still ablaze with whatever he was feeling. “You’re all over Josh up there, and then you flirt with the bartender in front of me and I’m what? Just supposed to sit there and watch?”

“What?” You were certain you couldn’t have given him a look more bewildered than the one you were giving him, then. “Did me dancing with Josh bother you?” He didn’t respond, but his eyes did dart away from you. “Jake, I just… we always dance together. I didn’t really think… I’m sorry.”

“Fuck, no, y/n. I’m sorry.” He sighed, rubbing his face with his hand and pushing his hair back. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I know it’s not like that. I’m just in a shitty mood, and I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

“We can go home, baby.” You offered, making sure he knew you were okay with that, too.

“No, you’re having a good time. I just need to loosen up a bit, I guess.” He let out a small chuckle, one that was barely noticeable.

“I’d have just as good of a time at home, alone, with you,” you leaned up to his head, lips inches away from his ear “in bed, naked.” His arm around you tightened, pulling you into him slightly.

“Careful,” he warned. You placed a kiss to the sensitive area just below his ear, lingering there for a moment.

“Just so you know, the bartender could only have me in his dreams.” You whispered before you pulled away. “I go home to you, remember?” His lips upturned into a smug smile.

“Get over there and keep drinking,” he ordered “before I have to take you to the bathroom.” The look in his eye led you to believe he wasn’t joking. You felt a blush creep up to your cheeks, taken off guard by the bluntness of the statement. He gave you a wink, subtle enough to go unnoticed, but obvious enough to send a rush of arousal straight to your core. “Don’t get too drunk, though. I’ve got a long night planned for you.” He promised, placing a delicate kiss to the top of your head, as if the words he said weren’t laced with filth.

You joined his brothers back at the booth, both of you sliding in as if nothing happened. Jake resumed his earlier position, slinging an arm around your shoulder. His whole aura was much lighter than it was a few moments before. As the boys divulged into conversation, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to your interaction with Jake. He wasn’t a jealous person; in fact, you couldn’t recall a time off the top of your head where he had been. You’d been dating him for just over five years, knowing him better than anyone else. He could be slightly possessive at times, and even that was rare, but he was never outright jealous. Above all else, he was protective of you. He was always quite comfortable with the fact that you were his, and nobody stood a chance. At the same time, you’d never given him a reason to believe otherwise, because there was none. You were hopelessly in love with Jake, and always had been. To you, no other boy existed in that sense. He was everything you needed, and beyond that. Still, the idea of him radiating with jealousy sparked something inside of you. It was new, intense, and admittedly, very hot.

You shook the thought away, realizing it was not the best time to be thinking about how attractive you thought he was. You were broken from your thoughts when the volume at the table heightened. You looked up to see Sam and Danny locked in an arm-wrestling position. Josh had his hand on his brothers shoulder, encouraging him, while Jake was leaned in to the table slightly, cheering Danny on. You couldn’t help the laughs that you let out, finding the whole scene boyish and amusing. After a few moments of struggle, Danny took the win and pinned Sam’s arm down to the table. Jake let out a triumphant noise, removing his arm from your shoulder to reach across the table and giving Danny a congratulatory high-five.

“Pay up.” he said to Josh, now holding out his hand to his twin. Josh rolled his eyes, but fished his wallet out of his pocket and grabbed a twenty, sliding it across the table. Jake grabbed it, a smug smirk on his lips, and put it in his own. The betting war between the brothers was uncontrollable. They loved to put money on the stupidest of things, and when there was nothing pre-existing to bet on, they made something up. It was never about the dollar amount, more so just bragging rights.

Jake rested against the booth again, the satisfaction of winning giving him some momentary cockiness. Instead of returning his arm around you, he let his hand rest on your thigh under the table. You did your best to keep your expression the same, trying not to focus on the warmth of his palm on your exposed skin. His fingers drifted under your skirt, slowly making their way between your legs. He let his hand rest stop there for a moment, not wanting to push you too much. “So, y/n,” Josh started, catching you off guard. You looked up to meet his eyes. “I think that pool table is calling our name.”

“Rematch from last time?” You joked, raising an eyebrow.

“Redemption is a better word.” He corrected.

“And if I beat you again?”

“You won’t.” He dismissed you, not even considering the possibility. “But, if on some off chance you do, dinner is on me the next time we go out.”

“You said that last time.” You teased. “No originality.” You let out a small tsk. He feigned a look of offence. The conversation was allowing you to take your mind off Jake’s wandering hand.

“Fine, what’s your idea?” He conceded.

“I don’t have a better one, I just like making fun of you.” You shrugged. “Anyone else care to join?” You asked the rest of the table. There was a mutter of agreements and nods. Josh slid out of his seat first, followed by Sam and Danny. Jake was hesitant to move his hand from your leg, holding you there for a moment. You turned your head to look at him, giving him an inquisitive look.

“Better not keep him waiting.” Jake murmured, looking over your face. Your breath caught in your throat as he moved his hand up a little further, fingers inches away from your underwear. “What’s wrong?” He asked, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“Behave yourself, Jacob.” You said, your lips upturned into a smile, too.

“Mhm, careful.” He gave the same warning as earlier. You knew very well that in every sense, he was always going to be in charge when it came to anything bedroom related. Still, it always proved fun to push his buttons. He pulled his hand away, ushering you out of the booth. As you stood, he delivered a quick smack to your ass. You let out a gasp, quickly looking around to see if anyone noticed. When you found you were in the clear, you gave him a glare over your shoulder. “Love you.” He said, smiling in response to your reaction.

Instead of answering, you began to walk away. He made a mental note, ensuring he would get you to say it, later. He followed you as you made your way to the pool table, where you both noticed that your company had picked up some extras. There were three new faces, two girls and a boy. “Ah, thanks for finally deciding to join us!” Sam bellowed as you walked up beside him. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side, in a very annoying younger brother type of way. You rolled your eyes, attempting to wiggle your way out of his grip.

“Who’s your new friends, Sammy? Had to find some people who don’t know enough about you to make fun of you, yet?” He let you go with a dramatic, but light, push.

“Get out of my face,” he said, a smirk on his lips.

“You love me.” You nudged him with your elbow.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Your eyes turned towards the new faces, taking in the sight. Both girls looked quite similar, and the guy was nothing like the boys you’d come to the bar with. He was tall, had short, blonde hair and bright eyes. “I don’t know their names. Josh started talking to them.” Sam shrugged.

“Figures,” you laughed, knowing all too well how much of a social butterfly he could be. Jake was standing behind you and Sam, opting to stay out of the conversation. Eventually, when Josh caught sight of you, he waved you over. You joined him, allowing him to introduce you to his new friends. The girls were friendly enough, but didn’t particularly stick out as memorable in your mind. The guy was nice, too, but his wandering eyes were very noticeable and very uncomfortable. “Nice to meet you all.” You addressed them all together.

“So, is this your girlfriend?” The guy asked Josh, which produced a booming laugh from both of you. Jake, on the other hand, did not find the question very funny. And he found Josh’s answer even less tasteful.

“A man can dream,” Josh sighed, humour clearly laced in his tone. You smacked his arm, chuckling at the thought. “Unfortunately, just my best friend, my confidante, my partner in crime,” he paused, looking over to you. “Soulmate?”

“Too far,” you warned, but couldn’t help the smile that broke on your face. You knew he was drunk, just by the formulation of his words. The statement itself was nothing out of the ordinary; Josh loved teasing Jake, although he never really managed to bother him with it. That night, though, was an entirely different story. Every word that Josh spoke seemed to piss him off even more.

“So you’re on the market then?” The unfamiliar boy asked. Your eyes widened, shocked at the bluntness of his question. That seemed to be Jake’s breaking point, as he pushed through Danny and Sam to join the conversation. His arm snaked around your waist in an instant, the familiar feeling immediately comforting you.

“Absolutely not.” His tone was firm, but not threatening. When you looked up to see his face, you were certain that if his expression were rewritten in a comic, that would be the scene where smoke was coming from his ears.

“Ah, sister-in-law was probably a good descriptor, too.” Josh said, giggling at his brother. Jake shot him a glare in response.

“Sorry, man. Promise I didn’t mean any harm.” The boy raised his hands in defence, showing Jake he wasn’t trying to start anything. Jake calmed slightly, nodding in understanding.

“I think a game of pool will certainly lighten the mood!” Josh announced, drawing the attention away from the tense moment. He grabbed a cue from the rack on the wall, breaking up the group. The boy who you couldn’t really remember the name of followed Josh, leaving you and Jake to yourselves for a moment. The two girls were chattering amongst themselves, completely uninvolved in the situation.

“Soulmates, eh?” Jake looked down at you, a look of annoyance on his face.

“Jake,” you warned, giving him a pointed look. “If this is because I’m upsetting you in some way, let’s go and talk about it. If it’s just because you’re in a bad mood, quit it.” You told him. You weren’t mad at him, but you weren’t willing to be chastised all night when the root of the issue didn’t even begin with you. He’d never once had an issue with the nature of your’s and Josh’s relationship. The surfacing of his anger on a night where he’d already been upset seemed to be an indication that he wasn’t solely upset at Josh’s words, but more in general. He wasn’t the best at processing his emotions, and tended to direct them at smaller situations to avoid dealing with the main issue.

A note of apology flashed in his eyes at your words. Before he could answer, you broke away from him to grab a cue for yourself. He watched you, feeling a fizzle of regret form in his chest. You weren’t acting any different than any other night, but for some reason he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling from himself. He was too deep into his miserable mood to break out of it, now. He was pulled from his thoughts when Sam called him over to the pool table next to the one you and Josh were playing on.

Josh had started the game, fully keeping your attention on the table rather than Jake’s sour mood. Sam and Jake had started their own game, eventually joined by Danny and one of the girls from Josh’s new posse of friends. The guy had moved on to try his luck with another group of people, clearly only at the bar in attempt to get laid. The second girl was hovering around the other part of your group, watching the game with intensity. You tried not to notice, but every so often her eyes would drift and land on Jake. You shook off the distraction, zoning back in on your own game. You lined up your cue with the cue ball, and shot at a solid ball. It rolled in flawlessly, and you moved on to the next.

“Cheater,” Josh grumbled as he watched your next ball sink, too.

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” You shrugged.

“Could never hate you, mama. Just strongly dislike you.” He gave you a cheeky smile. You gave him a scoff of disbelief, knowing for certain there was no world to exist where Josh would dislike you, or anyone, for that matter.

When your turn finished, you stepped back to observe his. As he lined up his shot, your eyes drifted over to the table next to you, finding Jake and Sam laughing at a joke one of the girls had spewed out. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look away from Jake’s smiling face, trying not to focus on it. But, in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but think about how that was the happiest he looked all night. As much as you wanted to be annoyed at him for questioning your loyalty, you couldn’t find it within yourself. Yet, anyway. The sight produced more sadness than anything else. You swallowed your insecurity, chalking it up to you overthinking the situation.

The night carried on, the empty glasses piling up by the pool tables, and your inhibitions greatly diminished. You and Jake had silently made the agreement to steer clear of each other in avoidance of a blowout at the bar. You stuck with Josh, bouncing from pool, to darts, and even the dance floor a few times. Jake found himself constantly engrossed in the nameless bimbo that had taken an interest in him. Somewhere between drink seven and double digits, you’d both engaged in undiscussed competition to see who could piss the other off, more. When the clock neared twelve, the karaoke section of the bar opened up. After picking up another beverage at the bar, Josh was pulling you in the direction of the stage.

He put the songs in, shutting down your inquiries and telling you it was a surprise. When you both got on stage and grabbed a mic, Jake was seething before the first note of the song played. “Seriously, Josh?” You laughed as the name of the song flashed across the screen.

“Come on! It was a good choice.” He grinned.

“You’re trying to start shit.” Still, even as you scolded him, his drunken delight was incredibly entertaining.

“He’s being an asshole,” he said, making sure his mouth was away from the mic. “I’m sure he’s trying to do the same thing with her.” His eyes floated in the direction of his twin, who now had his arm hung loosely over the other girls shoulders, similar to his hold on you earlier in the night. Red flashed in your eyes, but instead of lingering, you turned to Josh, no longer worried about the choice of music.

“Let’s give a performance of a lifetime.” Was all you replied. He smiled, happy you were on the same page. You both divulged into the song, very dramatically singing the words to ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ by Elton John.

By the end of the song, you had almost completely forgotten about Jake by the pool table. You weren’t sure if it was because of the liquor in your system, or the sheer amount of fun you were having. You were still a bit breathless by the time Josh’s second choice lit up the screen. This one, although not a duet, was probably one of the most venomous choices he could have made. Mixed between Jake’s love for Jimi Hendrix, how often Jake played it and dedicated the song to you, and the connotation of the lyrics, you were surprised Jake didn’t get up on stage and strangle Josh in retaliation. Your eyes widened, looking over at him in concern.

“He’s been mad at me all day, and he’s taking it out on you. Let him be upset, he’s being a dick.” Josh said, his words assuring you that he would take the heat for the song choice. It felt nice to know that Josh also thought Jake was acting out of character; jealousy had never been in his vocabulary, and the toxic game you found yourselves caught in was something you had never done before. You and Jake had barely had more than an argument in your years of dating. The longer it dragged on, the more painful it became. He had a short temper, but you couldn’t recall a time it had ever been pointed at you, let alone caused a spiteful interaction. As much as it was hurting your feelings, it was fuelling an anger within you that you weren’t sure even existed before that night. The liquor and the sour mood didn’t mix, and you should have known that from the beginning, but had no idea it would divulge into anything close to whatever the current situation was.

By that point, all of the boys had caught on to the tense nature. Sam and Danny were baffled that Jake was even willing to put his focus on another girl, let alone his hands. He was nothing if not loyal to you. Usually, his eyes would never even drift to another girl. Everybody was more than aware that he loved you as much as his music, if not more. They were also very aware that you and Josh were acting out of retaliation, fuelling the fire and hoping to get the last dig in and end it for good. The girl remained quite oblivious to the whole affair, just happy to be receiving some of the attention. Sam let out a long exhale as Josh began to sing you the lyrics to ‘Foxey Lady’, him and Danny certain that this was the brutal climax to the entire night. Jake was vibrating with anger, and there was no consolidation when you’d given up your hesitancy and sang it back to him. Sam and Danny shared a look, silently agreeing that they were going to have to put a stop to the situation one way or another before it got too out of hand.

Jake bargained with his temper, deciding on how to respond. Anger would be too easy, and too obvious. So instead, his course of action was the most disastrous one he could think of. Rationality was completely out the window by that point. He grabbed the girls hand, who he still hadn’t learned the name of (and he didn’t really care, quite frankly), and pulled her towards the dance floor. You didn’t notice at first, too caught up in the singing and laughter you were sharing with Josh. Everyone else did, however, and were awaiting the storm that was brewing. At the height of the song, you finally noticed that Josh had become a bit distracted from the performance. You looked to him, realizing he was staring off at the dance floor, and followed his gaze.

You cut off your singing mid-sentence, your heart plummeting to your stomach. Jake was dancing, in midst of twirling around the girl he’d been using as leverage all night. When he pulled her back in, his hand rested on her hip and he gave her a smile. It was a sickening sight for you. You slipped the mic back onto the stand, cautiously stepping off the stage, and headed straight for the door. You threw back the last of the liquid in your cup and set it on an empty table as you passed by. As the door slammed behind you, tears prickled your eyes and a lump began to form in your throat. At the sound of the door, Jake’s head turned to the stage, finally noticing your disappearance. Panic struck him, realizing he’d definitely taken it too far. He caught Josh’s eye, but wasn’t met with any type of reassurance. He’d won the battle, but at too much of a price.

He cut the dance short, not caring about any formalities, and followed hot on your trail. When he got outside, you were already on your way down the street, far clear of the parking lot. He muttered a curse under his breath, and took off in a jog after you. “Y/n!” He called, but you didn’t turn back. You kept your pace steady, hoping that you could make it home before he caught up. Your shared home wasn’t too far away from the bar, only a few minutes by foot. You thought if you could make it there before him, you could regain yourself a bit more. When he realized you weren’t going to slow down, he ran a little faster.

He managed to catch up, grabbing a hold of your hand to stop you from going any further. You tried to shake out of his grip, not willing to make any conversation with him, but he refused to let go. “What?” You finally snapped, turning to look at him. “What do you want, Jake?” He recoiled slightly, never once hearing you speak to him in that tone.

“I…” he trailed off, eyes wide and unsure of what to do.

“You what?” You asked again, tears still falling from your eyes. “Came to tell me all about your new dance partner? I can go get my shit out of the house and you can move her right in, in my place, if she’s so fantastic!”

“I don’t even know her fucking name, y/n.” Jake rolled his eyes, only fuelling your fire even more.

“That’s the point!” You yelled back, finally freeing your hand from his. “You don’t even fucking know her, and you get up and dance with her. It’s been five years and I can’t even get you to do that with me! One hand, Jacob. I can count on one hand how many times you’ve danced with me. I got tired of hearing no, so I stopped asking!”

“Jesus Christ, all of this over a fucking dance? You were practically fucking Josh all night, and I haven’t said a word about it.”

“That’s a lie, but we’ll unpack that later.” You scoffed. “It’s not about a dance, Jake. It’s about effort.”

“Effort? Like I dont give you my entire heart every day?” You opened your mouth to respond, but closed it and proceeded to turn around and walk away. You weren’t willing to have a screaming match in the middle of the street, especially while he was still mad. If there was one thing you knew about Jake, it was that while he was upset, he had very little rationality. “So you’re just going to walk away?” He snapped. You turned on your heels, giving him the dirtiest look you could muster.

“Get in the fucking house. We can talk there.” You pointed in the direction you were walking in. His eyes held the same emotion as yours, but he obliged, anyway. When you saw him start walking towards you, you turned and walked, too. The few minutes it took to get to the house were uncomfortably silent. When you reached the front porch, you unlocked the door and stepped inside. You flicked off the porch light when Jake made his way into the house, too.

You stormed to the kitchen, discarding your purse on the table and throwing your keys beside it. You did your absolute best to make it up the stairs in a stormy fashion while still wearing your heels. You didn’t have much time to gather a thought, because he was hot on your trail. “So what is it, then? If it’s not ‘just about the dancing’?” He mocked you with air quotes, hiking your temper up even more.

“The small things, Jake. Yeah, we wake up to each other every morning, and I get a kiss goodbye, but the small stuff matters. Like dancing. I love to dance, and the only time I’ve ever gotten to dance with you, I had to practically beg you. You’re with some complete stranger, and that’s what you decide to do to get under my skin? That was really low.”

“So you’re mad that I used it against you while Josh was up there singing my fucking song for you?” He took a step closer, face inches from yours. “You got plenty of dancing in with him tonight, I figured you got it all out of your system.”

“You’re missing the. whole. point.” You annunciated your words carefully. “I was up dancing with Josh because you never would! It hurt me because you won’t do that one simple thing with me, ever, even when you know how happy it makes me! And she got to have it with a snap of her god damn fingers, even if it wasn’t for the right reason. I got to watch you do something with another girl when I have to beg you to give it to me.” You sat on the bed, pulling your foot up onto your knee and messing with the strap on your heel.

“Didn’t seem like you missed me too much, tonight.” You closed your eyes, expelling a long breath to calm yourself down.

“I was only dancing with him because I couldn’t dance with you, Jake. I was only hanging out with him because all you wanted to do was argue with me.” You kept your voice steady, trying not to feed into him. “Do you think I prefer dancing with your brother? Getting asked if I’m his girlfriend, when we’ve been dating for half a decade?” You inquired, still messing with the strap of your heel. He let out a sigh, grabbing your ankle and pulling your foot up to rest on his thigh. He carefully undid the strap of your shoe and slipped it off your foot. He held his hand out, motioning for you to lift your other leg. You gave him a look of confusion in response.

“What? I’m mad at you, it doesn’t mean I don’t fucking love you.” He grumbled. “Give me your other foot!” He ordered, anger still present in his tone. You did as he said, allowing him to free you of your other shoe. When it was off and both of them were discarded in the closet, he resumed the conversation. “Certainly looked like you were enjoying yourself.” He finally replied. “With your… hmmm, what was it?” He asked, placing his fingers on his chin and pretending to ponder the answer. “Oh, yeah! Your confidant, your partner in crime, your soulmate!” He bellowed. “Who can only dream of being your boyfriend!” He let out a mocking sigh, laced with fake dreaminess.

“I don’t understand why tonight, after years of being together, Josh and I’s friendship is bothering you. You think if there was really a problem, you would have said something, oh, I don’t know, years ago?” You stood again, feeling more secure without your shoes on.

“Because you were using him to get under my skin!”

“God, you’re insufferable sometimes!” You shouted, pushing past him to go back downstairs. He was on his game, not letting the sudden movement deter him. He followed you as you walked. “You were doing the exact same thing! And in case you forgot, you were being a dick before we even got to the bar! I gave you ample opportunity to speak up, or go home, or just tell me what was bothering you, but you insisted you were fine and that you wanted to stay. Then she comes around, and all of your issues are suddenly resolved! You’re laughing and joking like you would any other day. All it took was for me to step out of your way for ten minutes.” You grumbled the last part, making your way into the kitchen. You opened the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and cracking the lid. You took a long drink before recapping it and setting it on the counter, just in case he pissed you off enough for you to throw it at him.

“If anything, it just gave you an excuse to be alone with him.” Jake hissed. “It’s not just about the dancing, or the karaoke, or the even the ‘funny’ passes. He looks at you like he’s waiting for me to fuck up, just so he can swoop in and finally have you all to himself. He practically undresses you with his eyes every time you walk in a room. Or maybe because it always seems like he makes you happier than I can. He dances with you, and sings with you, and buys you all of those gifts that he always just seems to know that you want.” You spun on your heels, facing him with a little bit softer of an expression than any of the previous.

“That’s what you’re worried about? You think he makes me happier than you do?” His eyes darted away from you for a moment, likely to avoid letting you know how he was really feeling. “Jesus Christ, Jake, are you blind?” He didn’t answer, causing a resurgence of annoyance in you.

“If I’m the only thing standing in the way of you being with him, go ahead. I’m not stopping you.” He snapped. “He shits on me all day at the studio, then I get to come home and watch him put his hands all over you, my girlfriend, and I’m the bad guy for being upset?” Your vision turned red, infuriated at the thought of him even thinking that. You took a step towards him, your nose practically touching his.

“If you’re so mad at him, why the fuck are you taking it out on me?” You questioned. “I told you, I would have been more than happy at home with you. You know why? Because I fucking love you, you idiot. I could say it a million times, and you wouldn’t care. Because obviously it’s all about Josh, and how I’ve been meticulously planning on using you to get to him for half a decade. Just waiting for the right time to strike, yeah?” You spat. “It doesn’t matter what I say, because no matter what, you’re always right, hmm?” You pushed your finger into his chest, really extenuating your point. “Nobody else in the entire world is allowed to have an opinion, because Jake knows it all! He’s got it all figured out!” He grabbed your wrist, forcing it down to your side and stopping you from prodding at his chest again. You were nose to nose, chests heaving with anger. You weren’t sure if he was going to tell you to get out, or if you were going to leave before he got the chance. You didn’t have a clue as to what was to come next, but you certainly weren’t expecting him to spin you around and push you against the island countertop. He let go of your wrist, grabbing a fistful of your hair instead. He pulled your head back gently, just so your ear was touching his lips.

“Did you like him singing that song for you?” He asked, his voice low and his breath tickling your skin. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal at your new found position. When you didn’t answer, his grip on your hair tightened. “Answer me.”

“Yeah.” You hissed, just for arguments sake. In reality, it was nothing compared to when Jake played it for you. Josh singing it had nothing on when Jake sang it, or hummed the lyrics to you. Josh had nothing on Jake, period, but you were too stubborn to stroke his ego.

“Yeah?” Jake questioned, his knuckles white against the hold on your hair. His hips were pressed into your ass, locking you against the counter indefinitely. “You’d rather go home with him?” He seethed. “Have him take your high heels off, wake up to him every morning?” Your heart was drumming against your chest. You weren’t willing to give in to him, but you also weren’t sure where he was going with his point. When you didn’t answer, he used his free hand to yank your skirt over your ass. His hand graced your exposed skin, the touch almost too gentle to fit with the current situation. After a moment of silence, he lifted his hand and brought it down forcefully, causing you to gasp at the contact. The ring that he adorned on his finger left a sharp sting long after the slap was delivered. “Fucking answer me.”

“N-no,” you stuttered, all of your confidence fleeing you. In place of it, there was a growing arousal between your legs and your tendency to submit to him was showing.

“That changed awfully fast.” He taunted. His hand still rested on your ass, but he’d moved it closer to your hip and held you in a firm grip, instead. You could feel his erection growing against you; the position alone was enough to get him going. “Color.” He barked.

“Green.” You said without hesitation. His fingers hooked into the side of your panties, his fist still anchored in your hair. He took a small step away from you, freeing your underwear from your body and letting them fall to your ankles.

“Since you don’t know how to make up your mind, I’ll do it for you.” He explained. You bit the inside of your lip, not daring to make a peep. “By the time I’m done with you, he won’t even be a thought in that pretty little head of yours.” He dipped his hand between your thighs, spreading them apart slightly. “The only word you’ll be able to say is my fucking name. M’gonna remind you why you come home to me.” His fingers ran through your cunt, getting a feel for the wetness that had already begun to pool. “That sound okay, angel?”

“Yes, sir.” You whispered, already knowing the rules to the game.

“Almost don’t want to let you cum. Haven’t been a very good girl for me, have you?” He hummed, spreading your arousal up to your clit. He swirled his finger around it for a moment, producing a whine from your throat. “So needy already. Pathetic.” He noted, applying a bit more pressure to his area of focus. You closed your eyes, losing yourself to the pleasure after hours of torture.

“M’sorry, sir.” You pleaded, knowing it was in your best interest to grovel for a while. “Promise I’ll be good for you from now on.”

“Come on, you expect me to forgive you that easily?” He chuckled. You didn’t respond, only let out a shaky breath when he removed his finger from your clit. “Gonna have to make it up to me, angel. You know that.” You heard him undo his belt buckle, pulling it from the loops on his pants. He set it on the counter cautiously, making you believe its use for the night was not over. He unzipped his zipper and freed himself from his pants in a swift motion. He tugged at your hair, silently telling you he wanted you to turn and face him. You did so, almost breathless at the sight of his face. His hand was still in your hair, pulling your head upwards slightly, making sure you couldn’t look away from him.

You wanted to break character so bad, to kiss him and tell him you were sorry, and that you loved him. You wanted to tell him everything you were too angry to communicate before, but you stayed silent. Instead, you gave an innocent bat of your eyelashes. He leaned down, likely feeling the same way, and pressed his lips to yours. It was sweet at first, but quickly turned needy and sloppy. You reached out for him, pulling him closer by the fabric of his shirt. You thought you would get in trouble for it, but in that moment, he allowed it. The small act satiated his need to feel wanted. You messed with the buttons on his shirt, trying to free him from it. After a few moments of struggle, you managed to slip it off his shoulders. He let go of you only for long enough to rid himself of it, and returned to his previous hold. He broke from the kiss, realizing he’d been far too accommodating for his liking. He raised his eyebrow, as if he expected you to know what he wanted. After a moment, you caught on, luckily just fast enough.

You sunk down to your knees, now eye level with his exposed cock. He still had his hand in your hair, holding it out of the way for you. You reached up, wrapping your hand around him before lowering your mouth to the tip and slowly bringing him into your mouth. You started slow, working yourself up to speed. He didn’t push you; as dominant as he was during sex, he was always hyper-aware of your comfortability. After a few moments, you started to hear a few curses fall from his lips. It gave you the encouragement to take him further, relaxing your jaw and your throat as you pushed your head down on him.

“Fuck, baby.” He sighed, unable to hold back his words anymore. You hummed against him, continuing your pace. Soon after, he tightened his fist in your hair, holding your head in place. He thrusted forward into your mouth, keeping a steady rhythm with his hips. You tried your best to keep yourself relaxed, making it easier for you to continue on. “Doing so good, sweetheart.” He groaned. The praise sent a shiver down your spine, your excitement for what was to come next was debilitating.

He sped his movements a bit more, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with each re-entry. You felt tears from in the corner of your eyes, unsure how long you could keep up with him. But, you were more determined to please him than anything else, because it always meant you’d receive a fantastic reward. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, feeling too good to even look down at your face. As the tears rolled down your cheeks, you felt yourself gag, throat constricting against him.

His cock twitched in your mouth, bringing him back to reality for a moment. He pulled back, completely removing himself from you. “Should just cum in your mouth and leave you here like this.” He theorized, trying to attain his earlier tone of voice but failing. His chest was heaving with every breath, eyes glazed with lust. He wanted you just as bad as you wanted him, and he didn’t have the willpower to walk away from you, now. “You wouldn’t like that, would you?” He asked, his hand falling from your hair to your face, using his thumb to wipe away a few stray tears.

“No, sir.” You answered, finally regaining yourself a bit.

“I know, baby.” He sighed, realizing he could likely get off just by watching you looking at him that way. “Couldn’t do that to you. You know that.” You nodded, grateful he drew that conclusion. “Stand up for me.” You did as he said, raising slowly and ensuring you had your balance, not wanting to topple over. He brought you into a kiss, hands pulling at your shirt. If he knew you didn’t care, he would have ripped it off of you. He managed to free it from your upper half, pulling out of the kiss to bring it over your head. “No bra?” He inquired, fingers trailing over your now exposed torso. He brought his thumb to your hardened nipple, running the pad over it before pinching it between his fingers. You let out a gasp at the suddenness of his actions. “Such a little whore.” He quickly took his hand and swiped away any items littering the island. Your eyes widened at the action, watching as papers and books tumbled to the floor. He didn’t react, only placed his palms just below your ass, lifting you up onto the counter.

The cold countertop took you as a shock, causing you to tense for a moment. “Only for you.” You finally replied, watching him as he anchored your skirt above your hips.

“Didn’t seem that way tonight.” He muttered, forcefully shoving your legs apart. He took a step back for a minute, admiring the obscene display he’d left you in. You rolled your eyes.

“Jake-“ he cut you off with his eyes, his glare louder than any words he could speak.

“Kind of humiliating, isn’t it? When everybody at the bar thinks Josh gets to take you home, thinks he gets to see you like this?” He asked, not advancing any closer to you. You didn’t answer, just watched him. “How do you think that makes me feel? Watching you run around like a whore with my brother, begging him for attention?” Your face flushed at his words, embarrassed at the degradation.

“M’sorry, Jake.” You mumbled, not daring to move, in hopes of keeping him in good spirits.

“Are you? Or are you just saying it to get what you want?” He pried.

“I mean it.” You finally looked up to meet his eyes. He barely acknowledged your words before speaking again.

“Because you’re mine. You do know that, right?” You gave him a nod. “Nobody else gets to see you like this, ever. Nobody else gets to see how pretty you look when you’re desperate to be fucked.” He gave a small smirk, grabbing one of the chairs and pulling it over to him. He positioned it directly in front of you, taking a seat on it. You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach, having an idea about what he was planning. He leaned against the back of it, never letting his eyes leave you. “You know that, right?” He pressed.

“Yes, sir.” You affirmed.

“Show me, then.”

“W-what?” You stuttered, wanting clarification.

“Touch yourself. M’gonna watch. You’re going to show me all of the parts of you only I get to see.” He ordered. You didn’t move right away, wondering if he was serious. “Do you have a problem with that?” His tone was condescending and his gaze was burning into you.

“N-no, sir.” You shook your head.

“Good.” He raised his palm to his face, spitting on it. He lowered his hand to his cock, stroking himself as he waited for you to start. “I don’t have all day, angel.” He stated, almost sounding bored. You broke out of your shock, bracing one hand behind you to hold yourself up and lowering your other hand to your heat. You gathered your arousal, slowly running your fingers through your cunt, really giving him a show. You saw his jaw clench as he drew in a long breath, silently telling you he approved of your actions. “If you’re gonna act like a whore, you’re gonna get treated like one.” He explained, eyes laser focused on your fingers. “You love the attention so much, so I’ll give it to you. But you’ve gotta work for it, and you better not cum unless I say you can.”

“Yes, sir.” You let your fingers trail up to your clit, rubbing small circles. Your breath hitched in your throat, pleasure stemming from the sensation, but also from the sight of him touching himself. You had no idea how he could ever doubt your love for him, because you were hopelessly and utterly infatuated with him. Every movement, or word, or expression always made your heart flutter. He was perfect, and nobody in the world could ever compare to him. You applied a bit more pressure, letting your head fall back at the feeling. A quiet moan escaped your lips, hitting him with force. He closed his eyes, trying to stop himself from getting up and fucking you right then and there.

You lifted your hand that was supporting you and leaned back on your elbow, instead, giving him a better view. You brought your hand to your breast, the pad of your thumb drifting over your nipple while you touched yourself at the same time. You really wanted to give him a show, part of it being because it was a show of an apology, and the other part being quite selfish. You knew that the faster you gave him what he wanted, the more likely he was to get you off. Your eyes drifted back to him, settling on his face and soaking up every bit of his expression. He had a scowl, and his jaw was hard set. His eyes were almost feral looking, and he was watching you intently. His hand was wrapped around himself, slowly but steadily moving. It was just enough to get a bit of relief. You could tell he wanted to save his stamina for when he finally decided to fuck you.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about.” He ordered.

“You, Jake.” You sighed, another groan escaping your mouth. His breath caught in his throat at the sound of you saying his name like that.

“Mhm,” he made a noise of confirmation “You better be.”

“I am,” you promised, catching his gaze. “Only you.” Your steady pace mixed with you being incredibly turned on was causing a knot to form in the pit of your stomach. He knew you well enough to pick up on it by your expression alone.

“Don’t.” He warned. You gave him a pleading look, hoping he’d have a bit of mercy on you. In response, he only shook his head. You let out a whine, slowing your movements to hold on a little longer. You felt the pressure ease, relief crossing your face. “So you can listen,” he noted. “Good job, baby.” The praise was heavenly, washing over you with a warm embrace. You knew he couldn’t keep up with the current situation for much longer; he was eager to get his hands on you again. He didn’t have to say it aloud for you to know that. You took a break from your clit, slipping your hand down a bit further.

You slipped your middle and ring finger inside you, making sure to keep your eyes on him, wanting to see his reaction. You gave him an innocent smile, setting him on fire. You slowly pumped the digit into yourself, clamping down on your bottom lip with your teeth and letting out a sigh of pleasure. You couldn’t keep your eyes on him for very long, equating it to torture in your mind. You only had to work at yourself for a moment, riling him up faster by the second. “God, I wish it was you touching me, instead, Jake.” You whined, eyelids fluttering closed for a second.

It was almost like you flipped a switch; suddenly, the sultry looks and lust-filled noises drove him over the edge. He stood, almost knocking the chair over as he did so, and advanced towards you. His hand found the back of your neck, pulling you up to meet his lips. There was no gentle nature to be found, just volatile desire that you couldn’t quite wrap your head around. Once he’d fulfilled his need to kiss you, both of his hands grabbed you by the hips and roughly brought you to the edge of the island. He grabbed your wrist, abruptly moving your hand to your side. He replaced it with his own, fingers gathering your arousal and pushing inside you. He let his thumb slide up to your bundle of nerves, brushing it over the sensitive area every time he pumped his fingers into you. You were over the moon at the new found contact, although abrupt. You were trying to wrap your head around the rapid change while welcoming it at the same time.

“F-fuck, Jake.” You moaned, letting the weight of your head fall back into his hand.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” He whispered, trying to cover his own tone of neediness. He didn’t need a verbal answer to his question; your expression was more than enough. As much as he was dominant, he was also a giver. Knowing he was making you feel good was more than enough to satisfy him. Watching you was great, but it was nothing compared to him being the reason behind your pleasure. His fingers curled upwards ever so slightly, hitting that spot inside you he knew all too well. “How fast can you cum for me, angel?”

“I-i don’t..” you trailed off, only focused on the feeling of his hands working magic on you.

“You don’t what?” He asked. You could hear the smirk in his voice without even looking at him. “Make it quick, before I change my mind.” He leaned down, making you lean back, too. He pulled one of your nipples into his mouth, gently grazing his teeth over it. You hated to admit that he already had you teetering on the edge. After years of practice, he knew you well enough to know exactly what to do. An expert of sorts, if you had to label it. You reached a hand out, grabbing on to his bicep for support while your other one was anchored on the countertop. You had already pushed yourself to the edge once, and it wasn’t hard for him to get you back there.

“Jake, m’gonna cum.” You announced. His pace didn’t change, only encouraging you further. It was embarrassing at how fast he could bring you to an orgasm.

“That’s it, baby. Come on.” His voice was low, only audible due to how close he was to you. He said it like he needed it, too. It only took the small push from him to send you into your first orgasm. Your legs were shaking, your arm barely holding you up. You barely managed his name through the mess of vulgar noises that came from your mouth. Instead of coaxing you through your orgasm, his movements never tapered. By the time you were coming down from the high, the overstimulation had already started to take over.

“Jake!” You gasped, unable to free yourself from his grip.

“You’re fine.” He said, a hint of venom still in his tone. Your eyes were screwed shut, the unpleasant feeling starting to drive you insane. He noticed the look of discomfort on your face, questioning himself for a moment. “Color.” He whispered, the act completely out the window. His thumb was still working over your clit, just with less pressure.

“Green.” You hissed, knowing deep down that you could handle it. You knew the reward after was worth the moment of discomfort. He wasn’t sure if he believed you, so he gave you another chance to speak up. “Green.” You said again, noticing he was holding back a bit. At the assurance, he continued working at you. The feeling was intense, but you coached yourself through it, and eventually, the knot in your belly tightened once more, although not fully covering the uncomfortable sensation the movements were producing. When your next orgasm tore through you, it was powerful enough to make you lose the strength in your arms. If not for Jake holding you up, you would have fallen backwards. When you relaxed against him, he slowly withdrew his hand from you. Your chest was heaving, sweat glistening on you, and your face was flushed. He took in the sight, letting the picture burn a memory in his brain.

He only let you recover for a moment before ridding himself of his pants completely and sinking to his knees. You let out a groan, barely back to earth from his previous actions. His eyes looked up to you, wordlessly checking to see if you were ready to keep going. He didn’t speak again, but placed a few kisses on the inside of your thighs. Just when you relaxed into him, thinking maybe he’d gotten his fill of being an asshole, he let his teeth sink into the sensitive skin. You jumped slightly at the sudden feeling, not expecting it. He continued on, barely aware of your reaction, and sucked a few marks into you. By the time he’d worked himself up to your cunt, you had surpassed your overstimulation, and quickly became eager for him to continue on.

“You want it, don’t you?” He teased, mouth only inches away from your heat.

“Yeah,” you breathed.

“How bad?” His eyes flickered up to your face again. Your lips turned downward, almost into a frown.

“You want me to beg for you?” You questioned, not realizing how challenging your tone sounded. His eyes turned stony, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“Thought you said you wanted me, angel?” He pulled back slightly. You felt your stomach sink, hoping you hadn’t made too much of a mistake.

“I do, Jake. I’m sorry.” You rushed out.

“Then fucking tell me how bad you want it.” His scowl had returned, his order clearly stating that he wasn’t in the mood for any argument. You realized it was less about dominance, and more about him needing to hear the words, needing to feel needed. You reached down, placing your hand on his cheek and letting your thumb run over the soft skin.

“So bad, Jake. I need you.” You whispered. Involuntarily, he leaned into the touch. You could feel his rigidness soften, almost immediately calmed by the feeling of your hand on him. “Please.” You gave him a look of desire, softening your features. “I want it so bad, I’ll do anything. Only you can make me feel this good.” That seemed to be exactly what he needed to hear. He didn’t make you work any harder for it; before you were even finished your sentence, his mouth was on you. You let your fingers tangle in his hair, holding on to him while his tongue ran through you. You let out a sigh of pleasure when he focused on your clit. His fingers sunk into your skin, holding you as if he was scared you were going to get away, sure to leave marks in the morning. He was working at you as if he starved, cautious as to not miss out on a second of the experience.

You were unable to contain any of your moans, giving him exactly what he wanted to hear from you. You’re tugged at the roots of his hair, another way of letting him know how good he was making you feel. He pulled back from you for a moment, moving his thumb in place of his tongue. “Does that feel good, baby?”

“So good, Jake.” You struggled to get the words out, too caught up in the moment.

“Don’t be shy. I wanna hear all of those pretty noises.” He ordered. He didn’t let you respond, already having his tongue take over again. He slipped his index and middle finger back inside you, adding the extra bit of stimulation for you. He was determined to fulfil his earlier promise; he wanted you so fucked out that he was the only thing you could think of. Little to his knowledge, he didn’t have to do much for that to be true. He was always at the front of your mind, wiggling his way into every thought and action. This part was just a bonus for you.

In retaliation to his statement, you decided to up your game a bit; if he wanted to hear noises, you were more than willing to give it to him. The moans and curses you let out were pornographic, sure to be heard by the neighbours if they listened hard enough.

You could tell he was enjoying himself, too, humming against you and taking in sharp breaths when a sound he particularly liked was heard.

His fingers curled upwards in just the right way, causing you to give an involuntary tug on his his hair. He only used it at motivation, ensuring to repeat the same action with each movement. His skills at guitar had paid off fantastically for you in the bedroom. “Fuck,” you groaned, feeling the familiar pressure build once more. “God, please don’t stop, Jake. Feels so good.” You whined, letting your head fall back in ecstasy. He took the praise to heart, making sure to keep his movements steady. He was focusing on keeping his hand and tongue at the same speed, wanting to allow you to get the most of the pleasure. It didn’t take much longer for you to come undone, gripping at his hair and uttering curses. He only eased up when you started to come down, taking the opportunity to get a good look at you. Your eyeliner was beginning to run, and your lipstick was smudged. Your hair was messy and your eyelids were heavy as you looked down to meet his gaze. He had to admire your beauty even in the disarray. He thought you were the most beautiful thing that ever walked the earth.

He removed his fingers, standing in an instant. He took hold of your hips again, pulling you as close to the edge of the table as he could. Your head was still spinning as he used his hand to line himself up with your entrance. He had no more willpower to wait any longer. You both let out a sigh of relief when he pushed himself inside of you, the feeling intensified by the lingering sensitivity of your last orgasm. The position was a bit awkward, making it hard for him to move, but it didn’t bother either of you very much. The intimacy was what you craved, and it was giving you just that. He brought one of his hands to your face, letting his thumb trail over your bottom lip. You parted your lips, pulling the digit into your mouth and lightly suctioning your cheeks around it. He let out a long exhale through his nose, the tail end of it sounding more like a growl produced from his chest. He slowly moved his hips, rocking into you agonizingly slow. You opted to just enjoy it while it lasted, knowing the gentle nature would be out the window soon.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth, a small pop sounding as he did so. His hand drifted towards your neck, fingers ghosting over your skin. His thrusts didn’t speed, but did get more forceful. You couldn’t help but let out a gasp as the tip of his cock brushed your cervix, sending a jolt of pleasurable pain through you. “Just like that, baby?” He asked, eyes boring into you. His fingers tightened slightly on your neck, leaving you to believe his concerned inquiry was a bit misleading. “Does that feel good?” You hooked your leg around his waist, drawing him even closer. It gave him the answer he was looking for, although nonverbal. “Such a dirty little whore.” He hummed, clearly pleased by your action. “Is this all you wanted? To get fucked?” His eyes scanned your face, the flame still dancing in his pupils. “Didn’t matter whose bed you were in, as long as there was a cock inside you?” His fingers tightened again, finally enough pressure to restrict the blood flow. “Or did want to go home with him?”

He knew you were unable to answer; he was talking to himself, and taunting you in the process. He knew the minute he took his hand away from your neck, you’d be talking back, and he wasn’t particularly fond of that idea. He leaned in, lips hovering over your ear as he fucked into you. He knew he’d have to release his hold on you soon; he may have been willing to degrade you, a few slaps or spankings, but never seriously harm you. He didn’t want you to fear he would, either. “You think he’d fuck you like this? Make you feel this good?” He whispered, breath hot and tone gravelly. He clamped down on your neck tighter once more, completely restricting any blood or airflow. He felt you let out a pointless, choked gasp, not getting anything from it. He bit down on your earlobe, one final move before he loosened his hand. You let in a long, desperate breath, filling your lungs as much as you could. You coughed, sputtering for a moment at the sudden burst of oxygen. He let his fingers gently massage the area he’d just assaulted, wanting you to know without breaking character that he was, in fact, just acting. His head was still down by your ear, scared if he looked up he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from cumming.

You were agitated from his words, feeling the bratty part of you start to surface once more. If he was so willing to talk down on you, you weren’t afraid to give it back. You hadn’t fully thought out the whole thing, only depending on your bruised feelings for clarity. “Don’t be so cocky. You call this fucking?” You challenged, voice was still raspy from his hand around your throat. He stiffened, pulling back from you as if you’d burned him.

“What did you say?” His hips stopped, too. His expression was feral, and his body tense.

“What, you can dish it out, but you can’t take it?” A smirk was playing on your lips. “If you’re not going to do it right, I can go call-“ your sentence was cut short by his palm retracting from your throat and colliding with your cheek, throwing your head to the side. It caught you completely off guard; your train of thought disappearing and his body language now anything but loving. Admittedly, he’d hit you a bit harder than intended, but he was in no state of mind to cater to you. Without so much as an utter of concern, he pulled out of you roughly grabbed your hips, yanking you off the table and onto your feet.

You didn’t have time to process the change before he spun you around. His hand found your hair and he forced your upper half down onto the countertop. He wasn’t gentle with his touch, shoving your face into the table until your cheek was squished against the wood. He took in the sight, your skirt still pushed up to your bellybutton. In a rash decision reliant on emotion, he grabbed a fistful of the bunched up fabric and gave a hard pull, busting it at the seams and ripping it from your body. He could buy you another to make up for it, he decided. Now less concerned about the sex, and more worried about your favourite skirt, you opened your mouth to protest. “Jake-“

“Shut the fuck up.” Your time for talking was over; you’d pushed him just a bit too far. He let the now torn clothing fall to the floor, grabbing his belt from beside you. He maneuvered it so it was folded in half, all whilst still holding you to the table. “You think he could do a better job?” He seethed, running the cold leather across your bare ass. When you didn’t respond, he lifted the belt and brought it down with force, causing a sharp sound and a lasting sting. “Do you really think anybody could?” His hand in your hair tightened, driving your cheek even harder into the table. He had no care for your comfortability, now. “I should just leave you here, make you get yourself off, instead, since I’m not doing it right. Would you like that?”

“N-no,” you squeaked, mentally preparing for another blow. Just as you expected, another searing sensation spread across your backside, causing you to jump.

“If you want him so bad, then go. But don’t think for a second he can give you half of what I can.” You could hear the sneer in his voice. “Do you understand me?” You weren’t sure if he wanted you to answer, or if it was rhetorical. When the belt flashed across your skin the third time, it was made clear he wanted a verbal confirmation. “I said, do you understand me?”

“Y-yes, sir.” Tears were spilling onto your cheeks, teeth grinding at the pain from the leather. But, you had pushed him, and you were more than aware of the consequences when you misbehaved.

“Don’t you ever speak to me like that again.” His tone dropped, less authority and more finality. You heard the belt fall to the floor, followed immediately by him lining himself up with you. There was no adjustment period before he pushed himself into you again, taking no mercy with the power behind his hips. You let out a yelp when he slammed into your cervix, but he was in no hurry to ask if you were okay. You had no time to recover before he repeated the same action.

His hips were moving at a brutal pace, all of the anger from the night being let out at once and building up to a dramatic climax. He was still holding your hair, never easing up on the weight of his hand holding you down. His other hand was holding your hip, keeping you in place while he fucked you. There was no ability to keep yourself quiet; the sounds falling from your lips were obscene, pleasure bordering pain creating a whole new feeling. He pulled your hips back a bit, giving more space between your legs and the edge of the table. He slipped his hand around to the front of you, fingers finding your clit with expert precision.

“How’s this? Good enough for you?” He growled. You couldn’t find the words to respond, eyes squeezed shut as all of the stimulation acted together to bring you to the brink of insanity. His finger danced over your already sensitive bundle of nerves, coaxing another orgasm out of you almost effortlessly. He was almost smiling at the noises you were making, arrogant enough to know how good he was making you feel.

“F-fuck, Jake,” you managed out, some form of confirmation that you heard his words.

“What’s wrong?” He tormented, voice wavering slightly at his rapid movements. “You asked for it, now you can’t handle it?” He showed no signs of slowing down or easing up; he was determined to prove a point, now, and he wasn’t backing down. He heard a familiar moan fall from your lips, your walls tightening against him slightly as you did so. He knew you were close, and it was only encouraging him further. Within a few seconds, you were caught up in another orgasm, all of your muscles tense and your throat coarse from crying out his name. You couldn’t allow yourself to relax as you came down, his hips nor his fingers letting up.

“Jake, please, I can’t.” You pleaded.

“You can, and you will.” He dismissed you, fully aware of the state you were in. He could see the tears staining your skin, your mascara fully running down your face. Your cheeks were red, burning with heat, and sweat glistening on your forehead. “Color.”

“Green, fuck!” You expelled, frustrated with your own unwillingness to give in. Every nerve in your body was on fire, begging you to stop, or take a break, but you were still enjoying yourself. You knew he was, too, and that was most of your motivation. He continued as if there was no question asked in the first place, never easing up on your clit, either. You were on the brink of screams, desperately trying to contain the moans ripping from your chest.

“You gonna give me another one, angel?” He asked, venom still present in his tone. You knew he wasn’t being so generous with orgasms for your sake, it was solely a personal agenda for him to prove a point. You were completely unwilling to cum for him again, but his fingers were forcing your body to betray you. He knew it, too, only allowing the cockiness to grow. “You ready to admit it, now? You want to tell me the truth?” He hissed, eyes never leaving your face. Before you could reply, the pressure in your belly peaked once more. He’d successfully forced another orgasm from you, letting the pride settle in his bones. Before you fully came down, he was already lifting your upper body off of the table so you were standing. He was aware of your lack of strength, assuring he was holding you tight enough so you wouldn’t fall over.

He pulled out of you, still supporting you with his arm, and turned you around. You were exhausted, completely at his disposal. You weren’t the least but worried, knowing he would take care of you; if you said the word, he’d stop immediately. “Arms around me.” He told you, a little gentler than his earlier orders. You obeyed, snaking your arms around his neck. His hands fell to your ass, lifting you up in one swift motion. You wrapped your legs around him, almost as if it were muscle memory. He carried you over to the wall, pressing your back into it. As much as he enjoyed the accessibility of the last position, the simplicity of doing whatever he pleased to you, he wanted to see your face. He kept one hand firm on your ass, holding you up, and guided himself back inside you with his other. The position change had given you a minute to calm down, just as he was hoping it would. He rested there for a moment, not making any further advances.

“Look at me.” He snapped. You lifted your eyes, barely keeping them open, and met his gaze. His expression was hard, but no longer malicious. He couldn’t find it in himself to stay angry with you; the sight of your face so close to his was enough to immediately soften his heart. “I want to hear you say it, angel.” He whispered, stare burning into you. “Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.”

“You are, Jake.” You breathed, unable to lie about it and risk any more punishment. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody could replace you.” Your voice was quiet, all of your energy completely drained. But, you were speaking from the heart, and he could tell. He leaned in, resting his forehead on yours. Slowly, he started rocking his hips into you again. The feeling was so much different, now. His movements careful, filled with love. He’d proved his point beyond intention, and he was well aware of it. All of the anger was gone, and he just wanted to be close to you, now.

“You’re mine, baby. You know that.” He hummed. “Nobody else even gets to think about you, like this.”

“M’yours, Jake. All yours.” You promised, hoping he’d lean forward just enough so you could kiss him. “I don’t want anyone else.” Your fight was gone, now, not as if there was a lot there in the first place. Your back talk seemed to hurt him a little more than intended, and all you wanted was to make up for it.

“I know, honey.” He assured you. “Me, too.” His sincerity was staggering, the softness of those two words were the most profound vulnerability he’d ever shown during sex. You felt like you were seeing right through him. “Gonna take care of you, now. Okay?” You managed a nod, filled with relief when he leaned forward to connect his mouth with yours. You tangled your fingers in the hair at the base of his head, holding him to you. You didn’t want him to pull back, savouring the loving gesture as if your life depended on it. The sensation of him fucking into you so carefully while he was kissing you was more euphoric than anything else you’d felt that night. Not often did you get slow sex with Jake, and it was just as phenomenal, if not more. Something about the emotion, the complete transparency, was unmatched.

“I love you,” you mumbled against his lips, causing his fingers to tighten on you. He pulled back slightly, just enough space between your mouths to speak.

“Fuck, y/n, say it again.” He ordered, but it sounded more like a plea.

“I love you, Jake. So much.” You groaned, losing yourself to the feeling of him inside you. You were sure there was nothing that could feel better than that.

“I love you, y/n.” He closed his eyes, jaw clenching as he rode through the blissful proclamation. You could tell he was close, and you were eager for him to get there. “God, you feel so good.” You let your hand come up to his cheek, holding his face while your thumb drifted over the soft skin. “Can you cum for me one more time?” You nodded as best you could with his forehead against yours.

“Just kiss me, please.” He didn’t need to be asked twice, his lips were on yours again in an instant. You kissed him with a hunger that could only be satisfied by him. He picked up his pace a bit, silently begging you to cum, just so he could, too. He had been holding himself back for long enough that it had started to become painful. He pulled you down on him every time he thrusted, just for a little more impact. That was enough for you; with the added pressure, he reached the spot inside you that only he could. Your legs tightened around him and your fingers grasped at him, letting him know you were there again. He pulled back, wanting the full view this time. Your head fell backwards against the wall, eyes closed in pleasure. You breathed his name between moans, finding it impossible to think of anything but him as your final orgasm washed over you.

At the sound of his name spoken so beautifully, and the sight of your blissful expression, he couldn’t help but lose himself to the feeling, too. He pulled you down on him one last time, holding you there as he spilled his release into you. He slumped over, pressing you further into the wall and letting his head rest in the crook of your neck. He was breathless, completely overpowered by euphoria. He didn’t withdraw right away, wanting to savour the moment of intimacy with you. Nothing but heavy breathing sounded through the kitchen, both of you chest to chest and feeling your heartbeats against each other. He turned his head inwards towards your neck, placing a few kisses into it. He left a few light marks, just as a final reminder of the entire night.

“You okay?” He asked, still resting his head on your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” He murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me, too.” He finally pulled back from you, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“Bath?” He asked. You nodded, giving him a small smile. He carried you to the bathroom carefully, not pulling out of you yet in avoidance of a mess. Once you were in the bathroom, he withdrew and let you get cleaned up. He flicked on the faucet for the bathtub, letting the warm water run before closing the drain stopper. He grabbed your package of makeup wipes pulling a few out and setting it back on the counter. “C’mere.” He whispered. You turned towards him, leaning into his hand reaching for you. He gently wiped at the smudged makeup, cleaning you up as best he could. He discarded the dirty wipes in the trash and placed a kiss on your lips.

By the time he finished, the bathtub was full and more than ready for the both of you. He flipped off the faucet, helping you in first. As you settled in, he couldn’t help but notice the marks littering your thighs and ass. He felt a sinking feeling of regret, checking your face for where he’d slapped you. It was red, slightly irritated, but seemed as though it would fade away soon. There was a small welt on your cheek from where his ring sat on his finger. He got in, too, settling behind you and pulling you into him. The warm water soothed your aching muscles, allowing you to fully relax into his hold. With your back pressed against him, you were fully surrounded in comfort. You rested your head against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. After a moment, he lifted his hand to your cheek, fingers gently running over the inflamed area.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He said, lips turned down into a frown. “I shouldn’t have been so rough with you.”

“I’m okay.” You promised, turning your head and placing a kiss to his thumb. “Let’s just… never do that again. The sex was great, but I don’t like fighting with you. I also really didn’t like whatever we were doing at the bar… it was gross and childish.”

“I agree. No girl in the world deserve the time of day, especially when I have you to come home to. I started the whole thing. I know you and Josh would never do that to me. You guys really weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary, I was just in a shitty mood.”

“Yeah, but I knew you were upset. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I was being an asshole, and I really shouldn’t have let him sing that song. I knew it was a bad idea when I saw it come up on the screen.”

“You didn’t pick it?” He asked, fingers still caressing the spot on your face where he’d slapped you.

“No, of course not, Jake. I was mad at you, but I’d never go that far.” His stomach sank.

“I’m sorry I danced with her. I knew it would hurt you, and it was wrong. I shouldn’t have assumed you would do that, either.”

“That did hurt me, a lot.” You admitted, feeling no need to lie about it. “You’ve never really been jealous before. Where the hell did that come from?”

“I don’t know.” He was honest. “I was mad at Josh all day, and when I saw you guys being so nice to each other and dancing to those songs, especially while I was so upset…I guess it just felt like he made you shine a little brighter than I did, tonight. I feel like I dim your light, sometimes.” He mumbled the last part, almost afraid to admit it out loud. You felt your heart break at his words.

“Jake, Josh is my best friend. My brother. Of course I have fun with him, but that’s all it is. Yeah, I love him, but I’ve never once felt that kind of love for him. I’m in love with you. You don’t have to make me shine all of the time, because you complete me. You can’t always make me shine brighter, especially when you’re the one who ignited the flame in the first place.” He had one arm snaked under yours, lazily strewn across your torso just under your chest. He used that arm to pull you closer to him, still letting his fingers dance over your cheek.

“I love you.” He sighed. “I never want to do that again, either. It was so stupid. I never want to hurt you like that again.” He placed a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll never be able to say I’m sorry enough to make up for it.”

“I’m sorry, too. If me being so close with Josh makes you feel that way, I can take a step back. You’re the most important person to me, no matter what.”

“No, baby. Never bothered me before, I guess I just felt a bit forgotten about. Got in my own head, and instead of talking to you about it, I tried to make you feel the same way. Next time, I promise I’ll talk to you. You’re my most important person, too. Seeing that look on your face when you left the bar made me realize how easy I could lose you, and I never want that to happen.”

“Guess we learned our lesson, then, ‘cause I really don’t want to lose you, either.” You laced your fingers through his, running your thumb over the back of his hand.

“The sex was fantastic, though.” He chuckled after a moment of silence. “I hope I didn’t hurt you too bad. I got a little to caught up in the moment.”

“I’m okay,” you laughed. “Maybe a bit sore, but it was my own fault. Shouldn’t have talked back like that.”

“You were being bratty, weren’t you?” He pondered back to the earlier scene in the kitchen.

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean it. Just wanted to get under your skin.” You giggled, sinking a bit lower into the water.

“I know, beautiful. You did a good job at it, I’ll give you that.”

“Yeah, my ass knows it, too.” You grumbled. He laughed, leaning down and peppering a few kisses over your shoulders. You melted into the touch, happy to have things back to normal.

“Hey, y/n?” He asked, lips still drifting over your skin.

“Hmm?” You hummed, eyes closed in peacefulness.

“I don’t want you to stop dancing with Josh. But I do think that maybe I wouldn’t mind dancing with you, too, if that’s okay.” He whispered. A smile broke onto your lips at his words.

“That’s more than okay, Jake.” He dropped his other arm, wrapping it around you, too. He pulled you into a hug, love completely surrounding you, now. “I love you.”

“I love you, angel. God, I’ll dance with you every day for the rest of my life if it means I get to have you like this.” He sighed. “I was stupid for not wanting to, before. I can sacrifice a little embarrassment to get a smile on that pretty face of yours.” You couldn’t help but laugh again.

“Don’t have to do that to make me smile, baby. You know that. You can have me like this for the rest of your life even if you don’t dance with me.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t mind it. I’d do anything to make you happy.” You almost rolled your eyes at the statement. He said it as if he didn’t do that already.

“You already give me the world, Jacob. What more could you do to make me happy?”

“I’ll stop when I can give you the universe, instead of just the world.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll buy you a new skirt and take you out tomorrow night, make up for everything. Wear your best shoes, cause you won’t be able to get away from the dance floor.” A smile grew on your lips, too.

“Can’t wait.” And you meant it. Not just for the dancing, or a night out, or the promise of a replacement skirt for the one he’d destroyed. You couldn’t wait simply because you were excited to be with him. You were certain you could live the rest of your life deprived of all modern comfort, but if Jake was by your side, you’d be the happiest person to have ever lived.

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yawntu · 2 years

Text

Golden Hour

A/N: ngl i’ve been fiending to write more Tsu’tey but y’all can’t let me become a one trick pony fr. This one’s a little self indulgent my legs be kicking and shit. This isn’t proof read but will be eventually LMAO. I just wanted to get it out bc ppls were messaging me, I tried giving u actual plot this time. Sully reader, Neteyams twin <333 why does tumblr always eat the end half of my posts what the FUCK

pairing(s): Ao’nung x (Sully)(f) Reader

word count: 10k

warnings: NSFW MDNI, weed oop, squirting, 2 little slaps but they’re not hard, consent king, mating, standing sex?, dacryphilla, semi public, a little bit of degrading / mean bits but not really, he just thinks you’re real pretty idk, size kink, brat taming if u squint readers got a bit of a catty attitude, you both have attitudes, idiots in love, PINING, idk i have a soft spot for idiots in love, Ao’nungs so in love with u, i’m about to start getting ppl to read these over and do the tags for me bc idk how to

na’vi glossary: skxawng: moron, Ole’eytkan: clan leader, kurkung: asshole, vrrtep’ite: demoness, Nga yawne lu oer: i love you, tanhì: star, kxener: I took park of the word that describes the act of smoking, idk I’m out here making up Na’vi slang.

Perhaps you were in such a delightful mood today because of the rich scented soaps and the pretty shimmer body oils that left your skin hydrated and vibrant after your bath, or perhaps it was the fact that Tsireya had just done your hair with little pearls and shells the night previous.

You’ve grown to love so many things that Awa'atlu offered you. You think, however, that your favorite thing was the sheer amount of turquoise geothermal warmed springs scattered around the bustling seaside village. You had often found yourself alone now that you had grown up, appreciating the peace that solitude brought you. Soaking in the warm watered spring of the mangrove beaches not terribly far from the village only added to said peace. Besides being a good place for one to watch the sun rise in the morning, it was also a good place to be left alone. As it wasn't an increasingly popular place to bathe it meant you got to spend your morning with pretty scented soaps, oils and creams while eating fruit and enjoying a kxener all in your preferred solitude. It wasn’t that you didn’t love spending time with friends and family- in all honesty a war torn childhood made you appreciate them and the peace you now lived in even more.

A fact you attempt to remind yourself off when an obnoxious smack of feet against the rocky grounds of the warm springs past the mangals pull you from your fruit eating haze. Your head snapped over to the sound, ready to scold someone for disrupting your tranquil morning- yet your eyes fall upon Aonung’s advancing form. You can’t help but allow a quick smile before your act begins. Your faux scowl at his towering approaching form.

“I literally just got in, what could you possibly want of me this early in the day?”

It’s a lie you tell as you lean back on the rocky wall of the spring, pointing two accusatory fingers towards him. You had been in long enough to quickly wash your hair and body. Even enough time to oil the ends of your hair, and though you were quick with it if he ended your bath here you’d at least have enjoyed your little acts of self care. No doubt you’d have to get dressed and follow him somewhere to help with something you’d much rather not be doing on your supposed free day. If the Eyktanay was saunting over to you, then no doubt your perfect morning would be a fleeting moment crushed to dust at your feet.

He gives you an look of dumbfounded distress, brow muscle jutting up into an arch while his lip curls up into a contemptuous grin,

“And to think I thought we were dear friends who enjoyed each other's company, vrrtep’ite,”

He is silly looking, as he squats at the edge of the spring, large imposing arms dangling between his legs, his tail curved towards you, eyes unnaturally trained at the horizon despite the fact he’s apparently cross with you. You can’t help but grin up at him, enjoying the quips and banter he often offered you; yet showed you enough respect as to not oogle at you.

Part of you was surprised to have him stumble upon you, as of late he is usually too busy to share a moment with him before the eclipse. He grabs the kxener next to your bowl of fruit, and the flintstones, barely looking at you. It’s endearing, how he holds the smoke between his full lips, his too big hands managed to spark rocks together to light it. For his towering frame, Aonung moves rather gracefully. His jaw is sharp as it clenches when the herbs spark at his face, eyes fluttering. You watch the muscles of his neck and shoulders flex when he puts the tool down and moves to hold the kxener with his left hand. He grabs a berry motioning towards you,

“What?”

His voice is haughty as he notices you staring. Even as he talks out of the corner of his mouth, lips holding the kxener smoke from fully creeping past his pointy white canine and incisor. The way his face contorts makes you giggle, resting your arm on the rock he was perched on,

“I don’t know. It’s silly seeing you act so civilized,” you say as you run one of your nails down his ankle to mess with him, “Decide you want to enjoy my brunch, huh? What, wrestling a tsurak too brutish today?”

He is instantly making a face, mimicking your voice in a faux girlish shrill as he finally grabbed hold of what he was smoking, seating himself fully, then plopping the fruit in his mouth giving you a displeased look.

It had been a long time since he was a truly troublesome, rough edged hooligan and though you would have still called him a hooligan to this day, Ao’nung was proud of how he had grown. Though he had his stubborn and even volatile moments he had won the close friendship of your twin brother, and even the younger siblings he once put in perilous danger. You had all long let that dead pa’li lie.

“You are the jungle savage,” he jokingly sneers, handing the kxener back down to you, then poking at your forehead for annunciation.

The mix of the thickly sweet and tangy fruit on top of the sour, peppery and earthy taste of the kxener is pleasant, but the fact that you can taste the balm that was on his lips is what makes your tail swish slowly in the water.

“You’re mad your mother likes me better than you right now,”

You nod matter of factly to the freshly added tattoo creeping up his shoulder, an obsidian addition to his growing collection. Ronal was displeased with who had done it, not so much the design. Soon he'd be covered in them, rarely a part of his pretty face untouched by ink. Ronal knew this, yet it was in her nature to be argumentative. You didn’t stick around for the argument as by the time Ao’nung walked completely into their home, you and his sister had made a quick dash out as to not inherit the wrath of Ronal. The two had been bickering over everything since.

“Ha!” His laugh is boisterous and booming like the storms that would crack down over the ocean, “I am my mothers favorite! She’d drown you before-“

Drown was a funny idea. And now that he didn’t have your lit morning smoke in his hand, there was nothing defending him from your swift hand clutching the wrist closest to you, dragging him forward into the depth of the spring. It was a quick decision really, you had been a little shocked you did it considering if you didn’t pull him with such force he’d have surely hit the rock you were currently seated on- and this rather foolish quick decision meant that poor Ao’nung was as equally not prepared for the assault. The splash of his bulking body is huge, unceremonious and forces you to quickly turn half your body to avoid the brute of its wave.

The mischief is worth it as he rises from the water unharmed yet in disbelief. His sea-foam eyes wide open, curls sticking to his forehead as they fall from his silly little bun. Seeming to be dumbfounded that you dared to pull the practically aquatic man into such waters. As if he hadn’t stepped towards a rocky plateau as he stood up, and that the water barely reached his belly button.

“At least you did not drown-”

Perhaps if it wasn’t for the pesky second eyelid of the Metkayina then the water would have blinded him long enough for you to playfully escape from the splash he sent your way; far too powerful of a crime as the ends of your hair rewet and stick to your torso. It’s a foreign feeling as your hair had already begun to dry under the intense heat of the sun previously.

“You’re the worst out of the lot of you,” he interrupts himself with a sneeze from inhaling the water he wasn’t prepared to breath in, “i’m still clothed, skxawng,”

It makes you laugh, he seems genuinely annoyed but it still bemuses you. They were always wet and in and out of the water. How could it have possibly mattered to him, you were sure he’d have gone diving once he was content with ruining the peaceful start of your morning.

You knew him. You knew he came here to pick on you in his usual manner until something else caught his attention and he’d leave you alone and unfortunately missing him. So you’d enjoy your moment of terrorizing him back. You liked humbling him. Especially now that he’s growing closer and closer to being Ole’eytkan.

You obviously wouldn’t have ever grown to be as forward with your hazing had his sister not emboldened you; and though he stands ahead of you, almost posturing, you both knew there was an unspoken rule that Ao’nung lets you tease him. Though you danced across the exasperated too-far line, Ao’nung would take a great deal from you with a playful surrender. You huff the herb one more time before passing it to his dripping form, a peace treaty.

“You interrupted my bath, it is only fair,”

You’re far too occupied with how soft the almost too warm skin of his hand was when it was wet, and the tantalizing shivers it sends up your arm when your fingers make contact with him to notice that he sees you. Maybe he had inhaled too much water as you had caught him off guard, or maybe he had just inhaled smoke too deeply immediately after you had stolen the physical breath from the vacuum of his lungs, but Ao’nung is entirely too entranced with the moment that plays in front of him that it makes him dizzy.

The sun rising behind him was finally starting to lose its pinkish hues, casting warm golden rays onto your freshly washed glassy skin. The oils across your azure skin reflected the sparkly luminance that only the crushed up shells of Awa’atlu could provide. He can’t help but think the sun looks its best reflecting off the amber of your eyes. Though you are one of- if not the most beautiful girl- he had had the pleasure of knowing, the golden rays of the rising sun dancing across the apples of your supple cheek weren’t where his eyes have trailed to. In fact, your long hair moved slightly from where it had been covering your out of the water torso. Though you had never really worn much coverings, the fact that you were not only nude, but comfortable enough to be relaxed nude around him made his chest feel just as fuzzy as his head.

He’s glad you’re lost in thought so he can take a split second to stare at you breast without you noticing, despite the almost painful desire to stare at your gracile forest form he doesn’t want to be caught staring. He’s only been caught staring at you once- not by you of course. For someone so clever he was surprised you were so oblivious to the world around you sometimes. No- he had been caught staring by your twin brother who had rightfully punched him right in the back, making contact with a rather fresh, and rather painful tattoo. Though it turned into a light hearted, overly rowdy horseplay between friends, Ao’nung understood the undertone. If he touched you, Neteyam might just kill him.

“If you wanted me to take a bath with you, you could have just asked,”

Why in Eywas great paradise did he say that? He was just thinking about how your brother might knock his teeth out for the fact that he had been staring at your bare chest and he felt as though stupid mouth spoke on its own accord.

He was glad you turned so red at his words though- probably out of anger at the implication. It overshadowed how he had embarrassed himself- drew your attention away from the embarrassing mauve heat creeping up his own neck. He hated how visible the contrast of flushed skin was compared to yours. The splash of the water you sent towards him forces him to hold the half done kxener far above his own head.

“I’m surprised you even know how to bathe, kurkung,”

He thinks it’s cute how quickly one arm covers your chest as you go to sit up slightly- suddenly very aware that you’re more exposed then usual, despite the fact you didn’t seem to care before- reaching to grab at his arm and try and snatch the kxener from his hand. It’s his turn to laugh at you know, and plop himself down on the water smoothed stone you had lounged on.

“I’m very clean actually. It’s hard to have such magnificent hair,” He hands you the kxener and with his other hand motions to his bun.

You snort, rolling your eyes and taking the herb you had both been using as a peace treaty from him. Your body turns towards him, head propped up on one of your pretty delicate hands, and the other holding the kxener to your pretty plump lips. Had he not embarrassed himself once already he’d have just sat here and blatantly watched you smoke in the morning light.

“It is going to grow thin if you keep it up all the time,” You motion to him.

Though you knew it was probably a pile of talioang dung, and that his hair would be fine despite the past five years of his well known bun- you couldn’t help but love when his long curly terraces fell down the expanse of his prodigious back. You wouldn’t waste an opportunity to convince him to keep it down.

“I’ll tattoo my bald head,” he’s grinning when he tells you, mimicking the way you had propped your head up on your hand, and reaches to swirl one of your own wavy strands around his finger, “Probably shave yours in your sleep to get back at you for jinxing me,”

“Your mother would scalp you if you did such a cruel thing, very unbecoming of the Eyktanay,”

You mock his status over you. He supposed that was fitting for you. The eldest daughter of the Toruk Makto was sure to have an issue with authority,

“Well this is rather unbecoming of me. I could be doing countless other things but sitting in a spring with you smoking a kxener and watching the world go by,”

His argument is valid. Though you know he’s joking there is a twinge in your stomach. An argumentative spark that tells you he isn’t joking- that he did not prioritize you the way you had grown to prioritize him.

The snippy comment rolling off your tongue dies as Ao’nung’s shoulders hunch slightly, leaning his head further down into your space. At this point you were close enough that he could hit the rolled smoke from your own hand.

It was ridiculous. Evil even. How Eywa dangled what you wanted so cruelly in front of your face. The cruel waltz of tension that has suffocated the friendship as you aged. The fact that you can feel your stomach drop at the feeling of his lips so close to your fingers, could taste the shared air between the two of you. Here you sat almost stunned in the shadow of his form.

The Metekyana were large- huge even. An’oung was large amongst them. Well into ten feet you’d assume considering he was ever so taller then his father when he stood straight up. In comparison to his big, stubborn bull-head, your sylphlike hands holding the mostly finished intoxicant to his tantalizing lips looked delicate and small. He could break you. He could toss you around like a rag doll and you’d even thank him after.

You feel bad for the addled look on your face, it’s just been increasingly vexing growing into adulthood due to this bastard. You know you really want to be grinning at his close proximity and the fact that he trusts you so close to his face with something burning. You should be cooing over the fact that he flutters his pretty eyes closed and admires his long eyelashes. Yet you couldn’t stop the bubbling of an attitude under your skin. You knew you were attracted to him, most people had known you had fancied him. Especially when he had grown comfortable enough around you to privy you to the earnest, callowly charming and flustered side of him- but there was something about the way life turned out that kept you both in this tense ‘we aren’t together’, but we are very obviously much more than friends.

You were an older sister at your core. Bossy and with a desire to be the center of attention; Ao’nung thought it was a game to play, and would never fall at your feet the way you charmed others into. At least he’d put up a fight in the pathetically self imposed game you had both committed to.

“Others would gladly take your place, leave then, find somewhere else to be,” you find your resolve finally, after your embarrassing pause.

With a roll of your eyes, you snatch your hand from his lips. In annunciation of your irritation you had stood up slightly, careful to not remove your body from the turquoise waters of the mangrove spring as you began to move towards the end furthest from him.

He doesn’t really like the years-long game you’ve been playing at this moment, and he really doesn’t like that you have moved away from him. He’s tired of competing in this ridiculous long winded courting ritual with you. He’s been at it since he had made you sob when he left Lo’ak outside of the reef all those years ago. It was the first time Ao’nung had been embarrassed by his own actions. He had been spoiled his whole life, taking whatever he could want- and for the first time he realized he had taken something from someone else. He had taken happiness from someone. He thanked Eywa for letting Lo’ak return relatively unharmed, and swore the wretched sobs that had fallen from your lips never again even ticked the back of your throat.

Year's. Years he has gone out of his way to emulate the humility you so easily radiate. You had forced him to grow; for year's he's learned how to be a man who deserved you. He wasn't a perfect man, in his eyes still not very deserving of you; he was still loud, impulsive and painfully cocky. It’s probably what had pushed him to wrap a large hand around your delicate wrist, unceremoniously pulling you back until the back of your thighs touched him, tail squishing between you and the muscle of his thigh.

Though Ao’nung would pride himself in the fact that you haven't sobed once or even cried often in years, he can't say you didn't hiss. As you are right now, a soprano squeal of a hiss right in his face. Now that the kxener was finishing you were pleasantly buzzing; and the quick drawback of your body had made you dizzy. It’s not his actions that have you embarrassed; you're embarrassed your stomach is fluttering at the feeling of coming into contact with his legs and torso, comfortably aware of the heat he added to the warmth of the water. You try to hide the embarrassment of being close to him like this with only half-real annoyance. Had you not been so civilized Ao’nung was sure you would snap that pretty little jaw at him bite a chunk out of his face,

“I am naked!” Your voice cracks as you yelp, hand landing on his thigh, using the waters aid to help elevate yourself off of his lap, mortified as you were far too close to the water's surface to enjoy the privacy the turquoise water had provided you with yet the idea of your bare skin on his was somehow scarier.

“I am not,” he remarks, taking the kxener from you, moving the hand that had grabbed you to land on your thigh.

You freeze in his lap. Now that the sun's completely up there's nothing to hide you. No beautiful colors to bounce off of your face that you can pass off the blushes accreditation.

“Sit and finish it, you wanted to enjoy a relaxing morning- you do not seem so relaxed,”

You blame the softly buzzing high for the softness you feel for him at this moment. Assuring yourself that his stupid oval head wasn’t terribly handsome and that his warm blue eyes didn’t make your chest tighten. You wouldn’t admit to any of the stupid love sick thoughts that have plagued your mind the entire time he’s been here with you.

More so, you certainly wouldn’t admit that despite his usually rowdy behavior and need to bicker with you, sitting against his imposing form made you feel safer than ever before. It was the work of a herbal paranoid if he dared poked fun at you for how it did not take much convincing for you to sit yourself down on his lap. Flinching at the feeling of the fiber of his tweng against the nude back of your thigh and glutes. You hope he doesn’t notice, even going as far as to lay your head on his chest before doing as he told you and lifting the dwindling end to your lips,

“Don’t you want to finish it?” you ask him, refusing to look up at him. Instead you stared intently at the sun over the sea. He runs his fingers across the expanse of your shoulder.

“It’s yours, I want you to enjoy your morning. Besides, unlike you I have real things to do this afternoon,”

You huff at his jab, knowing he respected the work you did around the village and the aid you offered his mother. A small part of you aches over the lingering idea that he didn't think you enjoyed the time spent with him.

“I've already enjoyed my morning. It’s not often the future Ole’eytkan spares time for me and graces me with his presence,”

You know he's busy, you'd never actually hold that over his head. And when you feel him move your hair off of your shoulder and lay his head on top of your own you almost feel bad for reminding him he’s so busy. Especially when he so sweetly caresses your decolletage as well. You didn’t understand how you always danced this edge with Ao’nung. Years of this pining and yet you’d both always end up here. Stuck in a strangely intimate moment that neither of you would dare go past. You are glad to finish though, finally tossing the item that had kept you both in this painfully frustrating stalemate, maybe you’d go sulk the rest of the day as he was busy doing Eywa knows what.

It’s your ego really, that makes you want to end the morning. Or embarrassment. How could you be sitting naked on top of him; how could you have let this go on all morning. Not just this morning actually, how could you have played this game so long with him when you were so unsure of his own feelings.

“I’m going to prune though so we should get out,”

Your voice is snippy when you speak to him. Hurt evident in your voice as you look up, and finally notice that he’s staring intently down at you. Committing the sight of your nude lissome Omatakyan form perched on his lap to memory. His wagging tail rippling the water and allowing him to watch the waters reflection dance across the bare sapphire of your skin. You were often close to Ao’nung. He didn’t make you uncomfortable in the slightest. You had sat in similar positions, been casually intimate- hell when you were younger the whole group of you would sleep in piles. Being pressed against him wasn’t new to you, yet this is very different. He had made the situation you were in very different in the span of minutes.

“Ao’ i’m serious-“ your voice cracks, “We’ve been here far too long, i’m sure someone will come looking for you-”

“Only me, you and Eywa here,”

It’s said with such a coy yearning you can’t help but flush purple. It wasn’t often that he had ever caught you off guard- at least not to this extent. Despite his usual impulsive nature he was usually relatively predictable when it came to you,

“Y-you’re never serious,” your ears flatten, when you try to turn your head, however his hand is quick to catch your cheek, and he uses his thumb to smush both together.

It’s not as easy for your tail to wag submerged in the water, not as easy as his does. You’re fighting against the water but you can’t help the flick of your tail- there was too much going on. You felt too much. You’re not really sure why you keep up the charade. He knew you had a great deal of admiration for him surely he wouldn’t have drawn this out had he not been interested in you?

“How could I not be serious when the most enchanting woman in all of Pandora is looking up at me like that?” and his big hand is dwarfing your cheeks and you can swear that you’d choke if you spoke, “Huh? All shy now are you?”

You weren’t shy. How could he call you shy? Shy was hiding away from him or avoiding conversation. He couldn’t call you shy if he did things to embarrass you into dumbfounded silence.

“You drive me ins-”

Your scold dies at the feeling of his kiss on your lips. It’s soft and his breathing against your face makes you smile. It's embarrassing how instant the grin is. How can you be mad when he’s kissing you finally. Perhaps you’d just say you were throwing a nantang a bone when your greedy berry stained tongue eagerly glided across his lip, or when your hips dug down into his lap, curling your tail around his thigh. Ao’nung could justify that his hands gripping and groping frantically as your sun warmed torso pulling you back into him was him doing the same.

And when one of your hands falls to caress your nails against the skin of his lower abs he can’t stop his hips from jerking and thrusting upwards into you, sending your body jostling up. Prematurely ending the oral exploration of both of your tongues.

There’s a string of his saliva connecting you together and his hands brace your jolted form. He means to ask you if you’re alright much quicker then he does. He can’t help but get distracted by your pretty flushed cheeks and with your wide amorous amber eyes. It set him a thrill with a sense of his own stomach warming bliss. He can’t shake his worry though. Worried he had pushed too far too suddenly.

“C’mon, you’re not ready for all this yet,” he rubs his nose against yours, and lets you kiss him softly again.

He paws at your hip, and then motions back towards the village with his head breaking your lips apart. How could you have possibly wanted to go back to the village now? You give him a queried look at his cocky barb,

“Perhaps you’re the one not ready for me,”

The raillery in your voice is a comfort that would have made his knees buckle had he not been seated. He smiles, because he knows you’re both right; and his cheeks hurt from the grin as he watches your eyes flutter close as your noses touch once more. A magnetic force that kept bringing your faces close to one another. You couldn’t see him now that your eyes were closed and you were enjoying the comfort of being close to him. It made him shift in his seat. You couldn’t see him. Not now. Not when he wanted you to see him so terribly. See how hard he had worked for you- see how badly he wanted you to just tell him you wanted him so he could move past this terrible feeling of insecurity he had over you. Then again perhaps, he thought it meant more in this moment that you knew him. Knew him so well that you could see past his coyness. As if to coax him further you bite down gently at his lip.

How could he leave you wanton like this? He relishes in the the sweet wiggle of your body at the gentle press of the pads of his calloused fingers roaming the length of your spine and dancing across the valley of your breasts. Soft and slow—just for the sake of caressing you. He has wanted to touch you like this for as long as he could remember. None of his lingering touches or platonic embraces could pale to the invigorating pulse your skin against his gave him. And he’s barely touching you- ghosting over your pretty sapphire skin and you’re trembling. Trying to squirm away from his lithe hands as to prevent his gliding fingers in their pursuit towards your peaked nipples. He’s sure the drag of his fingers as he groped at you was probably more tortuous than any direct overstimulation he could cause you but he wouldn’t grant you that clemency. Not until he feels satisfied that you’ve been disproven. That he was more than capable of taking care of you, more than ready to.

Ao’nung is competitive, and you know this. He knows you know this. How often have you both gotten into trouble over silly competition? He can’t help but huff at the thought that you knew how to press his buttons and roll his hips up once more. The sound of water squishing between where you meet makes your ears fall flat against your head and your nails dig into the soft skin below his abs.

“Ya, yer gonna see,” He moves with you easily, sliding from under you and propping your knees up on the smooth stone you had both sat on previously, standing behind you.

Ao’nung casts an imposing shadow over yourself and the ground around you. The water only offers to cover you to the top of your thigh, rendering you the most exposed you’ve ever been for him. You can’t help but shift your weight and squirm at the feeling of Ao’nung wrapping his hands around the freshly cleaned halo of curls that were your last sense of modesty. Now that he’s pushed your hair over your shoulder there’s nothing stopping him from seeing all of you. You attempt to focus on how the ends of your hair dip into the water, or how tan your freckling hands and arm appear next to the light lime wash of the smooth stony structures of the springs.

You feel strange, knees on the smooth stone you had originally sat on, palms bracing yourself on the stoney ledge as his prodigious hands dance up and down the shape of your curves while he causes in the water to plop rhythmic against your skin as he gives into his desire to rut against your form quickly. He is even quicker to catch himself and return his focus to you. You should feel much more vulnerable than you do at this moment- quite literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. Yet the cooling overcast of his form protecting you from the sweltering rays of light made you feel far more secure then you had previously thought.

It’s tantalizing- dizzying even when you feel his fingers run down the expanse of your back. It was easy for him to become distracted with the enchanting visage of your form arched prettily in front of him.

He knows you were right. He was nervous. For more reasons than one. Firstly the longer the sun made its ascension into the sky the more likely anyone could have the misfortune of stumbling upon you. More importantly he knows he should not mate with you right here. That you deserve much better than this. He aches knowing this is the closest he has ever gotten to it despite years of literally grasping at sand for the chance to be mounted over you like he was now.

Ao’nung did not have the resolve of a man you deserved though. He couldn’t swallow the anxiety he felt over the fact that perhaps if he didn’t come across you today someone else would have. And you would have been bent over for them. He wanted to do this much better for you- as cliche as it sounded. Yet, when he watched his hand dwarf the intricate and soft dips of the dimples that framed the sides of your softly twitching tail, his resolve snapped.

“Yer’ gonna be my Tsahìk?”

He watches you jolt under his sudden slurred words, the added stimulation of his left palm gripping the pliable sphere of meat that was only centimeters from his own longing groin adding to your need. Gripping just a bit too roughly. He didn’t mean to handle you so impolitely, he could not bring himself to have any resolve as his fingers curl against your skin to pull you apart for him. He’s embarrassed at how excited he is to receive the reward of your pretty moan at his chilling intrusion. He had been blessed with hearing your whiney groans and faux whimpery cries many times before, but he had never been privy to such an entrancing sound as your desperate moan.

He can’t stop his upper body from clambering down, hands quickly bracing his imposing form down on the same rock that held you up. His face instantly in the visible crook of your neck. All you can do is turn and gaze dumbfounded at his hand that twitches almost too closely to your own while you listen to him practically pant in your alert ear. His panting breath cracks in your ear when you raise your hips slightly, the feeling of the ridge of your tail, and curve of your ass against his ever throbbing manhood results in his own guttural moan followed by a sloppy open mouth kiss under your ear.

“Ao’nung, please,”

You don’t know what you’re pleading for him to do and he can’t believe you could be the one pleading right now considering how tightly you had wound him up already. He can’t bring himself to understand the complexities of your own emotions when he can now fully feel his body on top of yours.

“Please what, huh? Want me to mate you? G’onna be mine?” He enunciated his words with uncharacteristically gentle kisses to your neck.

You hear the wet plap of him forcing the fabric of his tweng down enough for you to feel the weight of him on your back. You’re unsure if the tender caress from your sensitive belly up to the valley of your breast from his free hand is what makes you shiver, or the feeling of the heavy tip of his cock that still manages to hang down onto your body despite Ao'nungs desperate grip at his own base.

Instantly one of your hands reaches to clasp around his wrist that has moved electrifyingly close to your breast, dinging your nails into him ever so slightly, causing him to jerk slightly. You huff at the feeling of his tip smearing precum across the small of your back.

“I thought you wanted me to enjoy my morning- why must you torture me instead,”

There was that pretty desperate whine. That inexorable and perpetual babble that you put on to get the things you wanted from those around you. He wanted to say he had better resolve then them, but the sound of your frustration laced whine has the weight of his cock twitching against the pudge of your ass. The wrist you had grabbed onto continued its ascension up your body, fingers dancing up your neck until he could hold your mandible.

It’s endearing really, the view he’s greeted with. With the easy squish of the cute chub of your cheeks together between his big hand, he’s effortlessly forcing you to look up at him. The Metkayina were expressive, maybe because they signed to each other a great deal- you wouldn’t know. But you’d still thank Eywa for it, as you can’t deny the aura of pure desire that radiates off of his face like the heatwaves the morning sun had begun to cast across the horizon. Eyes blown out wide, and the ends of his kiss swollen lips curled into a soft smile.

A soft smile that doesn't match the feeling in your stomach when his big hand leaves your ass and wraps around the base of your kuru. You swear you see Eywa in his eyes, and he swears he hears her in your gasp. He’s quick to push his lips back onto yours despite the unnatural position. And though your spine and neck ache from the arch he has pulled you back into you can’t help but clank your teeth together as you kiss again. You’re not sure who’s spit is all over you both; all you know is the sloshing sound of your mouths and the embarrassing sound of water sloshing at the disturbance of his rocking hips that ground his twitching cock against your ass. He wanted to reach down and force your tail out of the way so he could relish in the feeling of you hammocking his throbbing cock- but he had something far more important to deal with.

The most beautiful girl in all of Pandora was sparkling in the sun below him, and you wanted him as terribly as he wanted you. He really did want you to enjoy your morning and promised himself you’d enjoy every morning after this one too.

“I need you,” You’re whining into his mouth.

The very woman he has painfully longed after- the love of his life- was moaning into his mouth as he kissed them. The huffy and croaked out, “Need all of you,” should have been all he needed to hear from you. All he had ever wanted to hear from you. Nonetheless, Ao’nungs egotistical charm was a facade. In actuality he was terribly insecure. In fact he couldn’t truly wrap his head around how he had even gotten this far with you. He grounds himself in the feeling of your heavy breaths against his lips before he speaks,

“Tell me how bad you want tsaheylu. Tell me how bad you want me to be your mate,”

He doesn’t mean the growling undertone of his voice, or the side to side grind of his hips against your ass, but he loves the feeling of your cute little tail rolling over his cock at the motion and he can’t control how good he feels. Your wide eyes would be enough consent, the adoration in your topaz iris unmistakable.

“Nga yawne lu oer,”

One of your hands reaches up to hook around his neck, letting your delicate hand wrap around the base of his own kuru. And in the same breath you just loved him in, you assure him-

“I see you, Ao’nung. I see the real you. I want you so bad,”

He would normally laugh at the weakened tug at his kuru, but all you want is for him to kiss you again. How could he laugh when his pretty girl is begging him so nicely? How can he not kiss you once more and run his big hand down your delicate kuru. Dance his fingers across the pretty, intricate and adorned goddess loc protecting it. Had he felt a bit meaner he would have twisted the little curls that escaped it’s end just to hear you squeal and whine.

He had more pressing matters. Something far more interesting for him to focus on. You had a bundle of nerves practically dying to be connected to him, flailing tendrils kissing the bottom of his abs. Desperately swiping across the water slicked skin of his stomach looking for his own nerves to curl and wrap into. You wanted to feel him. All of him and it drove him wild. By the time his fingers trail the nerves of your tswin you’re crying. Actual tears that clump your pretty long lashes together and redden the tip of your cute crinkled nose.

His throat hurts. Choking on his breath at your sparkling tears. He can’t help but use one strong arm to cradle you into his body, pulling your torso taught against his own and relishing in the feeling of your boobs squishing against his arm. He tries to sooth you, hushing you with a voice uncharacteristically gentle for the man you had spent the end of your childhood roughhousing and bantering with.

“Shhh, tanhì,” his head is besides yours again, and you welcome the feeling of your cheeks rubbing together, and the gentle nuzzling of his face into the crook of your neck, “Nga yawne lu oer, why do you cry pretty baby?”

He feels you clench below your tail when he asks, and he feels bad for the bead of precum that squeezes on the dip of your spine again. Your soft quivering,

“‘s too much,” as you shake your head a bit, “feel’s too much,” your rounded red eyes peer up at him again. You’re blushing now, purple and pretty for him.

“Let me feel it with you then, ya?” Your noses are slotted against each other when he moves to speak against the crown of your head, ending his question with a kiss to your slightly furrowed forehead. He lets the arm bracing you against him slowly begin to tweak your ridged nipple between his fingers. Letting himself enjoy the feeling of it hardening between his thumb and pointer finger, “Please, Ao’- wanna feel you,”

There’s a chuckling undertone in his huff as you drop forward on your arms again, bracing your palms onto the watery ledge. Though he had wanted to pull you back up, the sight of you arching your back and grinding yourself back into him grants you reprieve from having to hold yourself up.

It was almost difficulty, shaking your hips against him as well as you could from your knelt position, yet the stones assault on your knees was barely an afterthought as you had finally arched yourself in such a way that Ao’nung’s balls had finally began to drag blissfully across your swollen clit.

He doesn’t think you’ve ever sounded so pretty. Practically purring under him and gasping as you grind yourself against him and he paws at your breast. He’s proven wrong when he watches you jolt at the feeling of the hair at the end of his kuru raise towards where he dropped yours against your back. You feel the teasing kisses of his own tendrils on the skin just before where your own danced wildly waiting for him, “One more time baby, tell me you want me. I need you t’be sure,”

Had you not been driven mad by the slow pace he had subjected you to you’d have felt bad for the obvious crack in his voice. You hated that he thought you didn’t love him, it’s what drove you to reach up and grab for the base of his own braid,

“Ao’nung if you don’t i’m going to lose my-“

You don’t finish your reprimand. You can’t. Not when you feel his tswin latch onto yours, pulling you tightly into him. Tsaheylu. You had ridden ikrans and ilus of course- but this was different. Like a rush below your skin that left you panting in his arms. You had never felt like this before. Never throbbed like this before. All you could do was squeal as a relentless wave of wetness practically leaked from your twitching cunt. In a desperate attempt to ground yourself from the sudden rush of fire across your body you raise you hand from the base of his own kuru to the mass of curls held up in a bun.

You didn’t mean to yank at the tie that kept them out of the way. In fact, you were shocked when his inky tresses fell forward, covering you in a curled veil of obsidian and forcing you to drown in the smell of salted ambergris of the sea and smoke that was permanently locked in the ringlets of Ao’nungs mane. It blocked you from perceiving anything that wasn’t him, not only could you feel him, you couldn’t see anything besides him. He had engulfed your senses the same way he had engulfed your mind.

“Oh f-uck,” Eywa save you, his throaty whine makes you drop your body weight against the arm that had originally only been ghosting across your breasts, rendering you into a blubbering pile of putty forced to listen to him practically moan into your ear that, “I had no idea you were feeling so good baby,”

You can hear the swish of his paddled tail as it escapes the confines of the spring that you’d blame the sweat accumulating on your body to. You can feel how absolutely delighted he was. Though you couldn’t physically see where your nerves became his you couldn’t shake the picture between your eyes. As though the pretty loop of your braids had been branded behind the eyelid of your third eye by your mate.

“Ma’ pretty mate wants me so badly,” his opposite hand meanly grips at the fat of your hip, pulling you up to him.

You felt like a rag doll, pulled up against him just so he could grind you up and down against his length. He can understand why you were crying now. You felt a lot of emotions for having such a small form, it’s probably why you had the attitude problems you did. The mixture of panic and uncontrolled longing that tickled the pit of your stomach was an addicting feeling to him however. He makes a cruel grab at the base of your tail caressing his thumb on the smooth, sensitive skin under your tail.

“You’re either gonna move your tail out of my way or I'm going to move it for you,”

He’s straightening his back a bit as he speaks, arm sliding to let you go slightly, though his grip on your tit stays firm. Almost too quickly your tail curls up to give him a view he’s been dying for since he’s stumbled upon you this morning.

You’re swollen and flushed and so wet. He wonders how long you’ve been this sticky. And you don’t even care that he’s practically drooling over the sight of your pretty tail curled up because that pretty useless head of yours is too busy swirling with silly little thoughts about how much you loved him. He was sure it was some evolutionary effect to get people to keep having kids to keep their species alive, but to Ao’nung nothing has ever felt real to him. Maybe love was a scam for everyone else, but for him? Eywa herself couldn’t offer him more than the moment in front of him.

“Prettiest thing I ever fucking seen,” His hand had to leave your azure tail to palm at himself. He had only just began to realize how badly he was throbbing for you, “Need you so bad too,”

You rub yourself against him, pushing one of your hands down on the rock to offer more pressure

“Ao’nung please, i’ll be okay you can-“

You’re cut off with your own shaken breath when you feel him rub the blunt end of himself against your sticky slit.

“Nu-uh,” he’s hunched forward over you again, rubbing the head of his cock against your slit, “you can’t take it like this,”

It’s your turn to feel shared panic. Not that you focus on it, choosing to clutch to his arms as the speed of his steadily rubbing intrusions picks up. It feels good. Too good on your still stoned, too stimulated body. Too good considering you can feel how good he feels. Every time the tip of his cock slides over your swollen clit and catches another glob of slick that only makes it easier to speed his assault up you moan.

Your thighs clench against him, but it does little to deter him. Not at his size. Not when he’s obsessed with the fact that he’s so much bigger than you. There wasn’t a thing you could do to keep him from making you cum. It really was foolish for you to clench your thighs. It only served to create a new angle for him to rub against. The smile you can hear in his moans is almost as embarrassing as the sloshing sound of your cunt at the enjoyable pace he had set.

He really did want to finger you, he wanted to feel your pretty cunt clench down around his pointer and middle finger too terribly but he can’t avoid the painful throb of his cock any longer. He’d been ignoring the pulse of his lower stomach since he had first seen the heavenly image of you sitting nude in the water watching the pink and lilac sky kiss stars goodbye. He was glad you seemed to like the intrusion of him practically jerking himself into you. Coating his cock in the enticingly scented albumen of your slick. He could cum probably, if he wasn’t already buzzing with overstimulation.

The naive part of him is confused when he watches your hips roll away from him, thighs clenching. Maybe it means you want him away from you, but all he can feel is the part of you screaming in his brain to keep going. So his hips follow yours so he can continue the sloppy drag of his cock-head though your folds. He’s starstruck when he catches on your clit rather roughly and is gifted with the sight of your spazzaming leaking cunt.

He’s so occupied with the liquid leaving you’re pretty swollen hole that the hand holding your chest up drops down to your tail again, yanking your hips up. He drops his cock from his hands to continue his assault on you with his fingers to rub faster then he previously was. You scream and he’s never been happier. The sight of him holding you up by your tail (that now wraps up around his forearm) while you brace yourself up by your hands as he rubs an orgasm from you, extending it as far as he could.

He knows he made you feel good and it only adds to how good he feels. If he was a bit more shameless he’d have probably busted the second you started leaking onto his swollen tip. His patience was almost in vain as he watched you lay your head on your arms, sitting up on your knees more to arch your back for him.

“Ao’ wan’ you to feel good too,”

So considerate of him always. He can feel the throb of your pretty pussy from where he still holds your tail. He laughs a little, he can’t help it. It’s a little mean when he sends a softish spank to where your ass meets your thigh. It’s mostly just to see your pretty body jolt under him, and to hear your pretty whine but it’s also to give him a second to compose himself. He’s not trying to claim your pretty azure skin with his cum yet.

And you look at him with those pretty slitted eyes, plump lips curled into the softest snarl he’s ever seen on your bratty little face. He doesn’t mean to so unceremoniously hunch down to catch your face in his palm and kiss you. He’s just so excited that he finally has what he wants.

“I can put it in ya?” He mumbles against your lips,

“Gonna let me make you feel good?” He questions again, and it’s his turn for a twitch to shoot up his cock to the soft patch of fat below his abs at your pretty moan.

“Ao’ you can! You y-you don’t have to ask,”

He ignores the amusement over how snappy your sentence started, yet ended in hiccupy adoration filled stumbles. Once again he’s lining himself up against your slit, and with the added force you can finally feel the girth of him. You’re thankful he hasn’t let you see him fully yet, worried the sight might have unsettled you more than the feeling.

He has to refrain himself from shooting forward, shoving you full in one snap of his hips. Has to stand up and slide his weighty dick between your cheeks to lay it on your back just to remind himself how deep he’d be in you. Sliding against you for a few lazy thrusts just to admire the view. He's dumbfounded at how intrusive his cock would be in comparison to whatever Omatikaya loser Eywa had intended for you to be mated with before he had set his eyes on you. One hand moves to spread your cheek one more time, the other returning to its place on his cock to help guide him between your folds. He starts groaning as he pushes the tip in.

Warm. Fuck you’re warmer then the suns rays on his back. Warmer than the heat his downed hair traps around him. And you match his moan. A hypnotizing harmonization that’s only paused when he feels a foreign stinging. A warm burn where he had never felt pain before, and though it was nothing more than an inconvenience he couldn’t stand the idea of his girl in any pain. You didn’t even get a chance to whine at the stretch before two if his large fingers are clamoring over your bud, trying his best to roll tight figure eights to lessen the sting for you.

Ao’nung can’t help but be confused. He can feel you slicking up his cock as he pushes in, the sheer wetness welcoming him in with almost ease. The only resistance the clenching muscle could offer against his intrusion was the sheer tightness of it.

Why is one hand reaching up to dig your pretty nails into his thigh, to scratch and push at him even though you’re feeling so good? Do you forget he can feel you? Can he blame it on you feeling too good? He’s not even half way into you and yet your hips keep stuttering away from him. He’s even paused his movement to appreciate your little huffs over being split open on him,

“You are alright,” you feel one his hands wrap around your waist, guiding you to sit up on your knees all the way out of the water, forcing his cock to slide out slightly. He makes sure to guide your face up towards you, forcing your eyes to lock on his.

His big hand then sides under your thigh and pulls your one leg up. It’s an embarrassing display, Ao’nung holding one of your legs up against your chest so he could force the remnants of his aching cock into your hole.

“Ya yer pussy knows it’s mine. Good girl sucking me right in,”

Both of your round exultant eyes are locked onto each other as he bottoms out, his words making you clench down. You marvel at the flush of his face and the hiss that falls past his teeth after the wet plap of his balls hit your ass. You swear you can feel him against your fruit filled stomach. As though he had truly impaled you on something. There was no way he could have prepared you for such a stretch. It was nothing like any of the self imposed violations against your cunt by your own fingers- what Ao’nung was doing to you was entirely different. This was beyond any girlish fantasy that had ever crossed your mind about the man.

"I need a second please-wait,” you sound so desperate for someone who knows that he’d never think of pushing you past your limit- not this time, not like this. Not when you’ve been so kind as to let him mate with you. He doesn’t answer you, kissing up and down your neck and shoulders. Allowing himself to bite and suck as he rolls your clit between his fingers,

“Deep breath baby, I already taught you how to breathe. Don’t make me do it again,”

There’s a smile against your throat as you feel him suck particularly hard, it makes you smile too. You don’t know why you listen to him, taking in a deep breath and craning your neck to lay against his chest.

His ego has skyrocketed. Feeling how much you liked being crammed down on his dick while he played with your pretty clit, legs spread wide for him. He hasn't even really gotten started and you feel twitchy like before you came. He can admit you’re clouding his brain quicker then he intended. He hadn’t felt so brain dead since his very first rut (which he had spent the entirety of silently fixated on you). He doesn’t really mean to shift his hips, doesn’t mean to push his fat cock deeper into your sweet little hole-

"Ah fuck, too big- it's too big!"

The sight of your furrowed eyes looking up at him makes his chest tighten and his dick a little harder. You didn’t mean it- even if he could feel the aftershock of the burn that dances across your nervous system into his. He knows you don’t mean it cause you’re grinding your pretty cunt against him. Chasing the high his fingers against your clit are providing.

“Stop ya whining,” he knows he’s been nice enough to you. Which is why he pinches down on your swollen clit ever so gently, twisting softly between the pads of his fingers ruining how close to a second release you were. It feels good when it makes you jump and impale yourself deeper against his cock, "Maybe you're just really fucking tiny,"

And with his words he begins the slow roll of his hips forward. After the few experimental rolls of his hips in conjunction with his comforting mumbles that you would be fine, Ao’nung feels that he can finally pull almost all the way out of you. You hate the feeling of being empty so suddenly, and are almost too loud when he begins to deliver shallow thrust into you. The water of the spring is splashing below you, and the sound of the spring mixed with the violent wet slapping of your skin together would alert anyone who got too close to the springs as to the torture Ao’nung was putting you though.

As if he is reading your mind (he probably is in one way or another) his mean hand grips the fat of your thigh tighter, and forces the leg higher in effort to open you more- so far even that you feel your lips part completely- as he uses the fat of your thigh as reigns to deliver deeper thrust.

“Ya yer right, anyone could walk out here with your legs wide fuckin open for me, huh?” he starts, and you wrap your tail around his torso to keep yourself stabilized against his thrusts into you, “Toruk Maktos daughter getting fucked stupid in public,”

He’s biting you again, just to hear that pretty little squeal and feel your pussy clamp down on him. He knows he should wait just a little longer before revving up the brutality of his pace- but the sight of you drove him to madness. And feeling your fingers reaching up to knot into his hair and yank only spurs him on more.

Feeling you cum felt better the second time then the first time. Is dizzying how quickly this one crashes over you. He’s a little disappointed that there’s a lack of liquid to splash against his muscular thighs this time, but promised himself your third would be messy after seeing the creamy ring you left around his cock. A welcome addition of more lubricate so he could comfortably drag against your spongy wall. It mind numbing how good it felt to fuck you though it- he was sure you were tearing up his thighs with your pretty up kept nails but he couldn’t be bothered with the white hot burn when he feels the lingering throb of your orgasm.

“Wrap your arms around my neck, baby,” he pleads with his lips against you, thrusting at an almost animalistic pace.

The up kick in the power of his thrust distracts you. You don’t move quick enough for him as he growls, smacking at the bundle of nerves between your legs. It’s all it takes for you to jolt and snap your arms above you and wrap them around his neck.

It knocks the wind out of your smoke assaulted lungs when his other arm loops around your other thigh. Heaving you out of the water into his arms. You see the world from an uncomfortably high angle as he stands straighter. Gasping as you grasp the inky tendrils of his hair in a painful tug.

“Oh fuck,”

It’s sinful, the way he’s slamming you up and down on him. Bouncing you in the air like a toy. Small and weightless in his hands as he used you to cum. There was an ache in your hips at the position, the sea breeze against your exposed cunt only edged you on more though. You were shaking in his hands, and he’s never seen you so delicate and vulnerable for him- he’d be sure to make fun of how quickly his dick turned your sour bratty mood into nothing but a brain dead euphoric smile.

“All you fucking needed all these years, huh?” he asks you, “Woulda saved me so much grief if I had just mated with you then, huh?”

He isn’t expecting an answer, just mindlessly babbling to himself as he slides against the spongey spot of your cunt. It’s amazing to him how you jerk in his arms, stretching yourself backwards to clutch onto his neck better, straining your head sideways to pull at his hair and yank him into another sloppy kiss. Your wet lips are chilled by his breath as he pulls away,

“Touch your pussy for me baby, I wan’na cum so bad,”

As if he needs to feel your orgasm rip across his nervous system to make him cum. How could you deny the pretty aqua eyes pleading with you. It doesn’t feel as good when you do it considering you had grown so used to his much larger fingers padding against you but it still felt good. Too good to be so dirty. Too good to be mated in the early hours of the morning in a public space. His hips jerk up to match the painful drop of your ragdolled body against him and it makes you see stars. Stars that were successful in blinding him as well.

“Ya that’s it baby, don’t stop-“

It hurts to clench down on him. The painful snap behind your belly button could only be met with you dead weighing your body down deeper onto his cock and the fluttering push of your plush cunt.

He could have topped over with the speed he used to look down over your shoulder. He didn’t want to miss the sight of your pussy cumming for him. Not when you show him how much his pretty pussy can gush for him. He thought the small splash of liquid from your first orgasm was squirting- but at the sight of the liquid that sprays against the rocks ahead of you his thrusts grow sloppy. He doesn’t know how he was so lucky to have your juices splash up into him but he’s thankful for it- never wants the smell of you to leave his face.

How can he not want to cum at the feeling of your body completely giving into him. Laying limp in his big arms while he fucked up into you. There was no clenching resistance of your fluttering hole or pulling yourself up off of his body. Only his pretty girl in his arms getting filled the way no other man could ever fill her.

He hates how bad it hurts to slide out of you when he feels himself starting to cum. You offer no support in keeping his composure as your fingers slide down from where they rested on your cunt and gently caress the tips of your fingers against his tightening ballsack.

“You’re gonna make me cum,”

He knows he’ll never live down the breathy gasp of his words or moaning the way he does for you. He prays no one is within earshot of the wanton moans that leave his throat but he can’t help himself. You’re so wet and warm and tight. He swore there wasn’t a pussy in all of Pandora that would milk him half as well.

And Eywa, when he finally finds the strength to give in and pull out and your small palm wraps around the head of his cock, twisting and jerking him until an embarrassingly fat load shoots from him- he can't stop the loud growl that his moans turn into.

He would accredit the buckle of his knees to the fact that you were failing at aiming his cum towards your belly due to the erratic jerking of your hand against the tip of his cock, sending his cum not only over your pretty body, but shooting haphazardly onto the floor and most likely into the water. But the real reason for his weak legs was the sweet and huffed way you were babbling that you would love him forever.

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