#also back muscles appreciation post

[citriarchive]

i think nithvinn should go on archery dates. what au is this intended for? yes.

[femwizard]

I love you body positivity

I love you disability accomodations

I love you diverse human experience

[this-doesnt-endd]

I need to start doing my physical therapy exercises again

[gurugirl]

ex-boyfriend's dad!harry part 1

Summary: After you break up with your boyfriend, his dad, Harry, stops by your apartment to drop off a few of your things. But that's not all he's there to bring you.

A/N: This full series is already live on Patreon, with all 4 parts up! Part 2 will be posted here in one week.

Word Count: 8.17k

Series Warnings: explicit content, smut (including anal, rough blow jobs), age gap, angst, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, choking, slight degradation, use of small implements (collar and leash, anal plug)

Part 1 Warnings: angst, slight inappropriate moment between you & Harry at the beginning featuring skinny dipping and subtle flirting

Ex-boyfriend's Dad masterlist

. . .

You didn’t know what had gotten into you. Skinny dipping in the pool at midnight under the stars. Well, you did know, actually. Two bottles of Italian red wine. That and your boyfriend’s dad, Harry, encouraging you. You were both at least two bottles in.

You’d been dating Tyler for nearly two years, and so Harry told Tyler to invite you to come along to their yearly vacation in Lombardy, Italy. The Style’s family owned a small villa in the hills and Harry made it a point to take a couple of weeks there every year.

So you were honored and more than excited when he invited you. Of course, you weren’t going to miss it.

And now you’d been in Lombardy for 5 days and Tyler went to bed a little early on this particular evening while you and his dad stayed outside on the patio overlooking the lighted pool drinking bottles of wine and talking about relationship things that may or may not have ebbed into very slightly inappropriate territory. But you’d think about all that later on.

Because here you were swimming buck naked with your boyfriend’s very handsome dad. You didn’t peek (not really) when he dove in with a big, dimpled smile after you slid in quickly with a squeal and he laughed with his back turned and a promise he wouldn’t look.

Because here you were taking another pour of wine with him and clinking glasses while you laughed. Wearing nothing. With your boyfriend’s very very handsome dad.

Of course, it was difficult to see fully what was going on under the reflection of the water. But you did notice a few things about Harry. About your boyfriend’s dad. One was that he had way more tattoos than you originally realized. You knew he had tattoos on his arms and you’d seen peeks on his chest before. But with him completely naked you saw a lot more. And you could tell he had a tattoo on his left thigh – something large. There were also tattoos on his hips, both sides. But more than that, you couldn’t help to notice the dark patch at his crotch and the floating thing attached to said dark patch, which you were sure was his dick. Obviously.

But you didn’t stare too hard. Well, you tried not to look anyway.

You tried keeping your tits under the surface of the water as well but every time you bounced to get toward the edge of the pool they did make an appearance. You crossed your arm over your nipples as you reached for your glass and Harry laughed.

“I’m not looking. I swear!” He raised his arms and grinned.

“I mean it’s just in case,” you giggled before you took a big gulp from your glass.

Harry was swimming toward the far end of the pool away from you, his back muscles flexing with each stroke. The lights in the pool were illuminating every one of his movements, and yours too, you were sure, as you placed the glass down and plunged under the surface of the water to swim toward him.

It felt so freeing and light to swim naked. You’d never done it before and when Harry suggested it as a sort of dare you told him how you always wanted to and that’s how this all happened. You didn’t regret it even though you were sure Tyler wouldn’t appreciate it. But you were having fun.

Suddenly you felt Harry’s hand on your ankle as he pulled at you, causing you to twist under the water. You reached toward his hand just as he let go and then pushed your head out of the water with a gasp, “Hey!”

Harry laughed. He was already swimming toward the other side of the pool, away from you, “What? What happened?” He stopped and turned toward you, a look of faux concern on his face.

“What do you mean what?!” You pushed yourself off the wall to swim toward him, “You grabbed me!”

Harry watched you dog paddle toward him with a big smile on your pretty face. He was just trying to make you laugh. Liked hearing it. Liked seeing you smile. Because he had noticed how you weren’t quite as carefree around Tyler lately. He noticed how your demeanor had changed from what he used to know of you, and he’d even overheard an argument you and his son had just the night before. He was worried that you and Tyler were drifting apart. Though it wasn’t his business at all, he figured the least he could do was to make you smile. This was your vacation too.

“Nope. I’m over here,” he laughed, “Couldn’t have grabbed you. Must have been like one of those pool monsters or something.”

You laughed loudly, the sound bouncing off the water and the trees all around. Harry smiled widely.

“You’re so cheesy, Harry,” you splashed water at him and clung to the edge of the pool.

Harry swam next to you and put his arm on the edge of the pool facing you, “Cheesy? How so?”

He was a bit close to you. Not that you minded. You trusted him but you didn’t trust yourself not to let your eyes wander. His chest was delectable and the muscles on his arms with his tattoos… his jawline.

You cleared your throat before smiling, “Pool monster?”

Harry laughed and nodded, “Yes. Pool monster. There’s one that lives in this pool. Did you not know?”

You shook your head, “That’s what I mean. Cheesy. Such a dad thing to say even to a grown woman.”

“Oh you’re a grown woman are you?” Harry blew out a laugh through his nose as he kept his lagoon-green eyes on yours.

You splashed at him again but then Harry retaliated with a massive spray of water back in your direction. You had no idea how he did it, but it was like a bucket of water was thrown at you.

Gasping you let go of the edge of the pool and flailed in the water coughing. It was dramatic but you’d swallowed a big gulp of pool water and sucked in some through your nose.

You heard Harry laughing and then felt his hand on your sides to lead you toward the side of the pool, “Take it easy. Here, back to the edge. You okay?”

You put your arms over the side and coughed, momentarily forgetting your tits were out and about for anyone to see. For Harry to see.

Harry patted your back and then as you calmed you felt his palm smoothing up and down your spine, “Sorry, Y/n. Didn’t know you’d open your mouth up and take a gulp like that,” he laughed softly.

You smushed yourself to the edge and took a breath before looking at him, “You’re trying to drown me,” you chuckled.

He didn’t mean to look. He told himself to keep his eyes on your face but you were half out of the pool, your breasts pressed into the tiles and when his eyes lowered you saw it clear as day. But maybe a small part of you liked it. He quickly moved his gaze elsewhere and you smiled as you lowered yourself back under the surface.

“Really wasn’t. Just figured you’d be ready for splash retribution. You have to keep your guard up, Y/n. Rule number one of pool play,” he laughed and then finally looked back at you. Into your eyes this time.

“I’ll remember that from now on,” you grinned and then with all you had, cupped your hands and splashed him directly in his face before you swam away laughing as he thrashed in his spot.

You heard him let out a short cackle before you heard the water moving under him. He was swimming toward you quickly. And Harry was a much better swimmer than you so in only seconds he was grabbing your arm and then pulling at you to lift and fling you forward, all your bits out for him to see before you landed in the water with a splatter and a plop.

His laughter was contagious. You turned to him with your mouth dropped open in surprise but couldn’t help but giggle.

“Sorry, Y/n! Fuck…” he shook his head and smoothed his wet hair back, “Forgot we’re in our birthday suits,” he pulled his lips into his mouth, his elbow at the edge of the pool. You followed and hung on to the edge for a reprieve from needing to kick your feet and flap your arms for a moment.

“I guess that’s just part of pool play,” you laughed. Harry nodded, his dimples casting shadows into his cheeks.

You both took a sip from your glasses.

“You and Tyler had an argument last night,” Harry suddenly spoke what was on his mind, “Couldn’t help overhear it. Didn’t mean to but…” he shrugged.

You nodded before placing your glass along the tiles next to the pool, “Right. I mean, I know we were loud. We’ve been arguing a bit more lately. Sorry about that.”

“What’s wrong? Anything I can help with? Hate to know you two are having any problems.”

You smiled at him, “No. Nothing you can help with. We just sometimes don’t see eye to eye on certain things.”

Harry sat his wine glass down next to yours, “Like what?”

“Harry, I don’t know… it’s not something I think Tyler would want me to tell anyone.”

He laughed and began to backstroke away from you and then turned and swam back, “So don’t tell him you told me,” he licked his lips and you watched as his deep pink rose-colored lips quirked up.

You raised your brows and grinned back, “You can’t say anything. Swear to me,” you pointed.

Harry moved in closer, his eyes on you, “Of course, Y/n. I would never say anything.”

You believed him. Maybe it was because he had always given you the vibe that he was a good person to tell secrets to. Or maybe it was two bottles of wine making you more likely to gab.

“He… well he’s not super adventurous in bed,” you bit your lip and looked down at the water, of course noticing the fleshy bit swaying between his legs had you averting your eyes quickly to the edge of the pool.

“Oh?” Harry hadn’t expected you to say that. “Tell me more. Why did this turn into an argument?” He put his elbows on the edge of the pool as you moved to pick up your glass.

“Like…” you glanced at him and laughed as you shook your head, “I’m not gonna tell you everything but for example,” you placed your elbows over the edge, mimicking Harry, “I… you know, enjoy giving him blowjobs. But… he doesn’t want to like,” you looked down at the tile and laughed, “Oh my god I can’t believe I’m about to say this… he doesn’t want to thrust into my throat because he thinks it’ll hurt me.” You placed your face into your hands and chuckled.

You turned to look at Harry slowly only to find a soft grin on his face, “And? Why did this turn into an argument?”

Swallowing down your saliva you decided to just drop the bigger bomb because none of it made sense without that big detail and, well, you were two bottles of red deep so why the hell not?

“He never returns the favor,” you watched his eyes widen.

“What? He doesn’t? Like ever? Ever?” The look of horror on his face was almost comical. But it definitely matched your own feelings about the whole thing.

You shook your head, “So, sometimes he does. But he’s only down there when I beg him and then it’s for two minutes tops and it’s awful. He hates doing it and it makes me feel awful about myself and he always reassures me but it’s so hard not to take personally because I am so excited to do it for him. I just don’t get why he doesn’t like it with me. And that just leads to us fighting."

Harry nodded, “Well I get why this would be an argument. And I can’t believe he doesn’t…” he shook his head, “I’m kind of surprised to hear this to be honest. Just,” he scratched his head and looked back toward the house where Tyler was probably fast asleep, “Don’t take it personally. I can guarantee it has nothing to do with you, Y/n.”

You took another sip of your wine and then pushed yourself off the wall to float back into the water, kicking your legs as you looked up at the sky, “But it’s okay I guess. Sex isn’t everything, right?”

Harry watched you float back toward the opposite side of the pool, “Right. That’s definitely true.” But while those words were true, Harry didn’t quite believe the deeper sentiment of it.

He swam toward you, taking two long side strokes, and dunked his head under the water. You lowered your legs to float upright when you felt the ripples just as he popped out in front of you, wet hair flopping over his forehead before he took his hand and ran it into his hair to push it back.

“We probably shouldn’t tell him that we did this,” you spoke as you watched Harry’s chest drip with water.

“Wasn’t planning on it. It’ll be our secret.”

That dimpled grin again made you grin in return.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” you laughed.

Harry lifted his arms from the water, “What? You said you’d never done it and that you wanted to?” He laughed.

“I did. It’s actually really fun.”

“Isn’t it?”

You nodded and glanced at the house and back to Harry. The quiet was making you feel something. Not quite nervous, but definitely something that had your skin rising with goosebumps, and your heart rate increasing. It could have been Harry’s eyes on you. The warmth you felt on your spine when you thought about how you two were both naked and that he’d most definitely seen your breasts when he flung you out of the water. His hands pinched into your thighs as he pushed you upward, which meant he probably had also seen your bottom, perhaps more.

But somehow he didn’t make you feel like you should be ashamed or embarrassed. It was quite refreshing to be around Harry. Even if you were nude and it was probably inappropriate to be doing such a thing with the father of the man you were intimately involved with. Even still, with Harry, it felt honest and natural.

“Harry, this might be one of the best nights I’ve ever had. Seriously. Thank you for having Ty invite me. This feels really special to be here in Lombardy.”

“I’m glad you could come. Honestly, I love Tyler but he’s not nearly as much fun as you.”

You chuckled softly as you looked up at the dark sky, clinging to the edge of the pool. When you kicked, your leg slid against Harry’s. You could feel the solid warmth of his shin and the virile hair that tickled your skin.

“Oh. Believe me. I know I’m way more fun than he is,” you spoke the words as a joke but both you and Harry knew that you were saying something a bit bawdy regarding Tyler’s prudishness.

You gazed at the night sky, the stars bright and flickering in and out of existence before your eyes. Every now and then Harry’s leg would bump against yours but you liked it. Neither of you would do anything to stop the subtle and innocent brushes of skin.

“Isn’t it wild how right now, as we’re looking up at the stars that some of them are already burned out, while others are coming to life and being born right before our eyes? But they’re light years away so we have no idea of the magic that’s taking place.” You spoke quietly.

You could see in your peripheral that Harry had turned his head to look at you, “We’re just at the mercy of the universe, Y/n. Me, you, and everyone else here. It’s beautiful and exciting, isn’t it?”

You smiled, keeping your gaze upward, “I love that. Just as the mercy of the universe,” you turned to look at him as your leg floated against his, “It’s beautiful.”

. . .

“So then you are cheating on me!”

You shook your head and pinched the bridge of your nose. Tyler was always jealous. Always worried you were cheating on him somehow. He didn’t trust you. And that made you not trust him.

“This is a great example of why I’m breaking up with you. You always accuse me of cheating on you, yet… I have never and would never! It’s such an insult! You just don’t get it, Ty!”

He put his hands on his hips and laughed coldly as he paced around you, “Something is up. I don’t buy that you just suddenly want to dump me. We’ve been together for almost two years. Why now if it’s not because of someone else?”

Rolling your eyes you crossed your arms over your chest, “Something is up! But it’s not because I’ve been cheating. Fucking Christ you’re insecure.” You sat down on the couch in your two-bedroom apartment. You were glad your roommate was not there. “You and I just… we’re not good together I don’t think. At first, it was good, Ty… So good. But… when I opened up to you and told you what I like, what I wanted to try… you made me feel like a cheap slut. Like my request was unreasonable and how you said you would never look at me the same again… and I don’t know,” you put your head in your hands and looked down at your knees, “You’re not willing to meet me in the middle at all and I just think that it’s a deal breaker.”

“A dealbreaker because I won’t spank you like you want to be spanked? It’s so weird, Y/n! How can I feel good about hitting you?”

“Yes, actually it is a dealbreaker. Because you don’t have to beat me. Just spank me with an open palm.  And not only that, you don’t like going down on me, yet I give you half-hour-long blow jobs and I fucking love it. Why don’t you reciprocate?” You shook your head and held your hand up, “Never mind. It doesn’t matter why you don’t, it’s over. This is over.”

“You’re shallow. You always have been. You were just with me because I have money and could buy you whatever you wanted. And I did. But now you’re done and on to the next thing. I know you, Y/n. You forget.” He stepped toward you as he pointed his thumb at his chest, “I put up with it for so long because I actually loved you. And I still do. I could overlook it all. Everything you’ve done I’d just forgive you because I love you. Knowing you would break up with me for this just proves to me you’re lying. Just remember that,” he pointed at you with his brows raised in warning, “That I loved you despite the fact that you lied to me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. His stupid words made you lose it. You leaned forward and your body shook from how hard you’d begun to laugh until you cackled in loud guffaws like an idiot. Tears poured from your eyes as you tried to stand up and compose yourself but you couldn’t stop the scene you were making. It was one of those fits of laughter that make it look like you’re crying because your face was scrunched up and big wet tears were pouring from your eyes. And you tried to stop but it was so hard to calm yourself that you only got even more wound up trying to stop and the whole thing started all over again.

Yeah. That’s what was going on when you broke up with Tyler Styles. Your boyfriend of almost 2 years. You were laughing uncontrollably after his usual bullshit spiel had pushed you over the edge. And you knew he believed his own bullshit and that just made it even funnier.

You loved him. From the beginning he was amazing. You two really got along well but then you started having sex regularly and things changed fast. When you two first started having sex it was infrequent due to your distance (you were away at a college in a different state) so when you could have sex it was wild and hot and it didn’t matter what sort of preferences either of you had. You didn’t care. You were getting to have sex. Good sex. And that’s all that mattered.

But then you moved back into your hometown to finish off the last year of college at home and you had access to Tyler every day. Then you got an apartment with a roommate and Tyler began staying with you and you two were going at it a lot more.

It was great. Until it wasn’t.

You also realized, during that year of being with him every single day, that he was insecure and manipulative. And that wound up turning into very insecure and manipulative after you told him you wanted to be choked a little. Wanted to be spanked. Wanted him to spit on you and in your mouth. Wanted him to rail you. Wanted to try anal.

You thought if you told him what you wanted things would get better in bed because, in all honesty, he wasn’t doing it for you anymore. Not that you didn’t love him and enjoy him. But he hardly ever ate you out, and you got bored of that same old thing. He didn’t seem to mind. He got to nut in you and roll over and go to sleep. Like you were an old married couple.

And that just wasn’t going to cut it for you. You were too young to have underwhelming sex with a guy who thought less of you for liking the things you did. You just weren’t compatible anymore.

But what was worse? The way he didn’t trust you. The way he tried to make something that was his fault into your fault. The way he’d talk in circles and would never own up to his mistakes and point out what he felt you’d done wrong.

And of course, there were the questionable texts you found between him and your friend Yola just a few months before.

That was not your finest moment. You were tired of him accusing you of cheating or acting suspicious of you every time you went out with the girls and so you wondered if he was cheating on you. And the moment you and access to his phone after he drank himself into oblivion one night you went through it. You always swore you would never be one of those women to go through their boyfriend’s phone. But you were in the end. And while the texts between the two of them weren’t all that bad, you still had your guard up.

So you paid close attention to him and how he acted when she was around. You started checking his phone regularly. Started looking through his comment history on Reddit. Perusing his likes on Instagram.

You became what you never wanted. In the end, you never found anything incriminating. Which was a relief, of course, but even if he wasn’t cheating there was no more love there. You were done.

“What the fuck is so funny?”

Still laughing, you wiped your tears and stumbled dramatically, holding onto the wall between your couch and the front door. You’d just about had enough of him. “You–“ you hiccupped a laugh and wheezed as you bent forward to calm down. Sticking a finger up to indicate you needed a minute you shook your head and finally stood upright to look at him in the eyes, your breaths and bursts of giggles slowing, “You are so full of shit. Did you just hear yourself? I can’t handle the way you always minimize your own issues. Just…” you pointed at the door, “Leave. Okay? This is over.”

. . .

“She laughed in my face when I told her I loved her and that I would forgive her for cheating,” Tyler went home and cried to his dad about you breaking up with him.

“She was cheating on you?” Harry raised his brow at Tyler who was slumped pathetically on the couch.

“Probably. I think so because she’s been interested in doing things in bed and I can’t figure out why. It’s gross.”

Harry sat down and draped his ankle over his knee, “What’s gross? I’m confused about what happened?”

“She’s a bitch. She was using me–“

“Whoa, hold on there. Watch how you talk about her. You were with her for almost 2 years. Don’t say that about Y/n.”

Tyler sat up straight and looked at his dad, “But her reasons for breaking up with me are so shallow. I’m not pleasing her in bed? Because I won’t choke her or spit in her mouth? It’s like she turned into a different person. I think she must have been seeing someone else because she broke up with me over it.”

Harry nodded wondering what could be so bad about any of that. But of course, he enjoyed a little bit of rough sex himself. He was surprised Tyler seemed so put off by it. But after learning what you had told him that night in Lombardy, he figured this shouldn’t be too big of a surprise.

His son didn’t even like to eat pussy. If Tyler didn’t look almost exactly like him, he’d wonder if this was even his son. Because Harry liked all kinds of kinky shit in bed.

“So she wanted to try some kinkier things with you. Did you try any of it with her?”

“You don’t even know the half of it, Dad,” Tyler shook his head, “Anal sex too. I mean… what woman wants that? I don’t know. Maybe she was addicted to porn or something.”

Harry swallowed thickly and looked toward the window for a moment in thought as his back heated up at that comment. Anal sex. He tried not to imagine you in that way but it was hard. He’d already gone down that tricky little road in his imagination after that night you both skinny-dipped together. He’d seen you completely naked. He hadn’t meant to look but when he grabbed you by the back of your thighs and pushed you out of the pool he slid his hand up to your bottom and your legs spread as you landed into the water and he saw it all. He’d lost his damn mind when he did it. It was like he was playing with a lover there for a moment and he’d forgotten you were his son’s girlfriend. Well, now ex.

“You didn’t answer my question. Did you try exploring with her at all? See what you might like?”

He shook his head, “I’m not going to choke and spit on someone I love. And anal?” He said the word as if it were disgusting, “It’s so weird. I don’t know what happened to her. She used to be so sweet.”

“I see. So it sounds like you two were no longer sexually compatible anymore and you’re just assuming she’s been cheating.”

“Are you taking her side on this? She broke my heart, Dad. We used to be so good together. It was perfect and then suddenly she just wants me to hit her and be rough with her? It doesn’t add up.”

Harry sighed and shook his head as he leaned his back into the couch cushion. He and Tyler had always been able to talk about anything and everything, which he was proud of. But he wondered if Tyler really saw the bigger picture about you and how important it was to be with someone you’re compatible with. Harry wasn’t going to tell his son what happened that night. The things you’d told him in confidence. And between what his son was telling him now and what you had told him before, he could tell Tyler wasn’t telling the whole story.

“Look. I know you’re upset and hurt but from what you’re telling me it doesn’t sound like you actually know if she was cheating or not. Right?”

“But what else explains her breaking up with me?”

“Tyler, for some people, it’s really important to be sexually compatible with your partner. That can be enough to end a relationship. When someone isn’t satisfied in bed anymore, it might lead to other issues as well.”

“But she used to be satisfied. Something changed. I just don’t know what.”

Harry really wanted to be supportive of his son. But the way he brushed off his lack of effort to make you happy did concern him. It felt like Tyler didn’t think he’d done anything wrong. And it seemed to make sense based on what he knew. Based on what you told him.

He thought back to that night with you in Italy.

He draped the towel over your shoulders as you crossed your arms to cover your chest, “You know I would understand if you felt that was enough to break up with Tyler over. Things like that can slowly erode a relationship from the inside out.”

When you’d clutched the towel safely in front of yourself you turned and shook your head, “It wouldn’t be just for things like that. He’s also really insecure. Always thinks I’m doing something I shouldn’t. He’s even accused me of cheating on him,” you rolled your eyes.

Harry already had his own towel wrapped around his waist, his bottom half fully covered from view, “Well that’s definitely something. If you don’t mind me asking…, why are you still dating him?”

You both began to walk toward the house, clutching your clothes in your hands, “Because it feels like such a waste if we just end it after 2 years, you know? I just want to be able to make it work with him. But I don’t know how much more I can take. I love him… it’s just hard.”

He nodded and put his arm over your shoulder to bring you in for a quick side hug before you walked into the house, “Just do what’s right for you, Y/n.”

. . .

You slept like a baby that night. You weren’t sure if it was because you’d finally had the guts to end it with Tyler or because you wore yourself out laughing like a madwoman. Either way, you realized how easy it was to be without him. How good it felt to be done with him. Relief.

You thought about Harry and his words to you, just do what’s right for you. And this was right. He had given you good advice.

The last time you saw him was when you parted ways at the airport after spending two weeks in Lombardy with him. And while Tyler was there, you both fought the whole time. Tyler was more like an afterthought on that trip to you. After the big fight that Harry overheard, you didn’t even sleep in the same bed with him.  So you wound up spending a lot of time with Harry without Tyler around. It was fucking fantastic. Especially the night under the bright stars in that big pool telling each other secrets.

It was one of the best nights of your life. Harry was one of those men that were rare and truly kind and thoughtful. But he was handsome and charming as well. You’d always found Harry very attractive but you’d have never done anything with that attraction. Besides, you figured it was natural to find other people attractive. And not only that, the apple truly did not fall far from the tree in this case. Well, looks wise anyway.

Tyler was two inches taller than his father and a bit leaner, but he had the same brown wavy hair, green moony eyes, and raspberry-pink lips. Harry’s voice was deeper with more baritone but they did sound similar in some ways. Once you thought Tyler was talking to you until you heard him say your name, and then you knew it was Harry (you had your back turned). Harry said your name in a way that made your neck prickle with heat.

But as much as they looked alike physically, that’s basically where their similarities ended. Where Tyler was insecure, his dad was confident. Where Harry could laugh off a mistake, his son would explode and get red in the face and blame the nearest person for the problem even when it was something small. You could go on but it was useless to dwell on it. The truth was Tyler was nothing like Harry in the ways that mattered.

You didn’t want to think about Harry the way you had been. But it was hard not to. The way he handled himself and didn’t sweat the small things… how mature and understanding he was. How he didn’t get embarrassed easily and that allowed him to be more vulnerable and honest.

And all of that combined with his sturdy, masculine body and the more mature features on his face… Harry was indeed more physically attractive as well. Sure Tyler looked so much like him it was uncanny, but Tyler’s more youthful body and face were lacking something for you.

You’d never really been into older men. Harry was the exception to this. And you only allowed yourself to really see it on your Italian vacation with him.

You felt like you’d miss him more than Tyler. That was the only thing that really sucked about the breakup. Not seeing Harry again.

But it turned out, you would be seeing him again. Because two weeks later when you got a dm from Harry you were quite surprised. In fact, you’d just been thinking of him as you were settling into your bed. It was nearly midnight. It had become routine for you to think about him throughout your day. Especially at night. Maybe inappropriate but you were single and Harry Styles was very good fantasy material.

Hey. Hope you’re doing well. I have a box of your things and thought I could stop by tomorrow afternoon to drop it off if that’s good with you.

And you didn’t know exactly why you did it, why you suggested having him stop by on a night when your roommate was out of town instead, but you did. Maybe you were just feeling him out. Testing the waters so to speak.

You were certainly curious about what could happen if you and Harry were alone with no major consequences to hinder something from happening… you were both single and you had been severely neglected in bed. And something told you Harry would give you what you’d been seeking. That is if he were interested. It was a stretch to think he’d do anything. You were his son’s ex after all. It would be quite scandalous.

It was silly, you knew it was. But when he said he could come over at the newly arranged date and time, somehow it made you feel like you’d just set up your first date since breaking up with Tyler.

It wasn’t a date. No, you needed to get that silly notion out of your mind. Harry would be cordial and warm with you. You actually couldn’t imagine anything much happening in reality.

Yet here you were, an hour before he was due to arrive, making sure your skin was smooth and applying a pretty-smelling lotion all over your limbs. You’d even picked out an outfit. Something that wouldn’t make it look like you were trying too hard but that was just cute enough for him to hopefully notice. It was just a regular Thursday night after all. Well, it was supposed to be.

You could admit you were looking forward to seeing him again. Even if nothing came of it. Even if he just dropped off the box of your things and you handed him Tyler’s stuff and he hugged you and said goodbye… well. That would be okay. Disappointing but the more likely scenario.

When you heard the buzzer go off your heart rate picked up and you felt shaky as you ran to your front door to hit the button to let him inside the building. Your head was filled with images of what you’d imagined the night before but you pushed it down the best you could as you swallowed and took a deep breath.

None of that, Y/n.

The knock at your door came faster than you thought it would as you jumped and clutched your hand over your heart. You needed to chill. You needed to live in reality.

Unlocking your deadbolt, you took another breath in and slowly blew out to calm yourself and as you opened up the door you saw him. It’d been weeks. Just over a month since you’d seen him.

And he had a small box in one arm and a bottle of red wine in the other.

“Hi.” He looked handsome. His clothes were tidy and he looked fresh and clean and you could smell his cologne as you hugged him and then he followed you inside, “Hi. Thank you for switching the day for me,” you turned to him after closing the door, “How have you been?”

Harry looked around your living room and then back to you, those pretty green eyes taking you in making you feel that recognizable spine tingle. Your temperature began to rise without your permission.

“Good. Missed you coming around. Uh…” He held the box out to you, “Your things.”

You took the box with a small smile and then he lifted the bottle of wine by its neck, “And I brought this. Didn’t know if you had time to talk or anything but thought we could share a bottle and sit for a while. Only if you wanted.”

Yes. Yesyesyesyesyesyes… this was exactly what you wanted.

“Oh, that’s so nice of you. Of course, I’d love to sit and chat with you, Harry,” you grinned widely. There was nothing you could do to contain the broad smile that broke out over your mouth or the heat that rose to your neck, “I’ll just put this in my bedroom. Be right back!”

You quickly walked into your hallway, still smiling like an idiot, and then entered your bedroom and dropped the box to the floor. You squealed very quietly to yourself and stomped your feet lightly with fists balled up to get out the pent-up excitement, anxiety, and nerves you were feeling before pressing your palms down on your bed for a moment to relax. The grin on your face only got bigger.

“You okay?”

You shot up and turned to see Harry standing in the hallway outside of your room and your eyes widened. Had he seen your whole little display?

“Yeah! I’m fine.” You smiled.

“Sorry, I followed behind you to see if I could find the bathroom and noticed you were having some kind of fit.”

You pushed a quick laugh out of your mouth and felt your back and thighs scorch in embarrassment. He’d seen you. There was no way he wasn’t aware of what that was.

“Um… don’t worry. I’m okay,” your nerves were bubbling over, “The bathroom is the door at the end. The one that’s open.”

“Okay. I’ll be just a minute. Gotta drain the snake,” he grinned.

When he was out of sight you closed your eyes and shook your head. What an absolute dolt you were. But you did not miss the reference to his dick either. Maybe he was trying to feel you out as well.

In the kitchen, you uncorked the bottle and pulled two glasses down. You didn’t have proper wine glasses yet but figured he wouldn’t mind. Harry was not one to fuss about such things.

You placed the bottle and two glasses at your table and sat down just as he appeared and sat down in the chair next to you.

“How have you been, Y/n? With the breakup and everything?” He asked as he took the honor of pouring a glass for each of you.

You kept your eyes on the glasses as you spoke, “Good. Great even. I miss some things about him but it got too complicated at the end and I feel like I can breathe now.”

“That’s good to hear,” he laid his eyes on you as he handed a glass to you, “Cheers.”

You smiled and tapped your glass against his before taking a sip and then reaching for the bottle to see what kind of wine it was.

“Oh! Did you get this in Lombardy?”

Harry laughed, “Actually no. I bought it at the grocery store. They happened to have this wine there and thought it was fitting for the occasion.”

“Fitting for the occasion of you bringing me my ex’s things?” You puffed out a chuckle.

He nodded, “Yes actually. I mean just because you and my son aren’t seeing each other anymore, doesn’t mean I don’t still have good memories of you.”

You looked down at your glass and blinked. He was so nice. He always made you feel so cherished in some ways.

“Yeah. I guess that’s true,” you allowed yourself to set your gaze on his, “I feel the same really.”

Harry nodded, “He told me all about the breakup. That you told him you weren’t satisfied. I had to hold my tongue when he started talking about it. He doesn’t know I have inside information.”

You laughed, “Oh god. I did not go about the breakup in the best way. I wanted to tell him all the reasons I didn’t want to be with him but… I don’t know. There were just so many and I didn’t want to like, pile it all on him and hurt his feelings. I never got around to the bigger issues with his insecurity, the way he was manipulative at times,” you shook your head, “He made some speech about how he loved me despite my lies… and I can’t remember what he said but it was so phony that I couldn’t stop laughing. I broke down in laughter and I think I offended him.”

“Yeah, he told me you laughed in his face. I can only imagine what he might have said. He was pretty convinced you were in the wrong. Didn’t think he’d done anything to cause you to break it off with him.”

“I’m… I feel a lot better now that it’s over with him.”

“He said you suddenly wanted things in bed and you kind of alluded to wanting things he wasn’t willing to do before but was it sudden? Or is he just making that up?”

You shook your head, “I’ve always been into more adventurous things. Well, I mean since I was old enough to know what those things were. When we first got together we were long-distance so it didn’t matter as much but once I moved back here that’s when it got tricky. I tried to subtly initiate things but he wasn’t picking up on it. And then a few months of that I decided to just be straightforward and told him what I wanted. He flipped out and told me he’d never look at me the same.”

“Kind of figured it was more along those lines.”

“Yeah…” you tapped your fingers on the wood of the table and looked at him, “How about we talk about something else?”

Harry sniffed and turned his body toward yours, draping his arm over the back of the chair he was sitting in, “Good idea. I was just gonna suggest that,” he grinned and looked away from you as if to work up the nerve for what he was about to say before placing his eyes back on you, “So where’s your roommate?” His raised brows and the grin on his face felt like he knew something already.

“Oh. She’s visiting her parents for the weekend.” You swallowed thickly at the scrutiny of his eyes.

He nodded slowly, “I need to be honest with you,” he pulled his lips into his mouth and grinned before continuing, “I checked your Instagram and then found your roommate and noticed that she was away based on her posts. You didn’t happen to plan it like this on purpose did you?”

Your lips parted as you looked at his face in surprise. A thick blanket of embarrassment surrounded your body as you hesitated with an answer.

“And that little fit you had in your bedroom. Tell me what that was.”

You cringed and looked down at your lap. You’d been busted. There was no way out of this. Unless you lied to his face and you didn’t want that. Because he was asking you directly, which meant he had a reason for bringing it up.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I…” you shook your head and slowly dragged your gaze back up to his, “Yeah. I did plan it like this. Um… Thought it would be nice to see you without someone else here.”

He continued nodding, “And your little display? That was because you’re excited to see me?” He finished off the sentence with a grin which had you feeling at ease suddenly.

“Yeah,” your response was hardly a whisper as you smiled back at him.

His grin widened and he licked his lips, “Okay. I see. Well, let me tell you my thoughts because I want to be clear with you, Y/n.”

You nodded and angled your body to face him directly. Your heart was raging in your chest so wildly you were almost light-headed.

“I initiated coming over because I wanted to see you in person. To talk, to know how you are. I hoped you’d be just as excited as I am. And it appears that you are,” you watched his eyes drop to your outfit and wind down to the spread of your thighs over the chair you were starting to melt into.

“And since you wanted me here when no one else was around I think you wanted something to happen between us. Now, I hadn’t expected it really but I wouldn’t mind it going in that direction.”

You swallowed and felt every bit of your skin begin to overheat. You kept your eyes on him but you were unable to form a response.

“What is it you wanted to have happen tonight, Y/n? Hoped I’d show you something you had been missing out on? Do you want something from me?”

You flattened your palm on your thigh and averted your eyes to your glass of wine, “Yeah.”

The gentle touch of his finger at your jaw, nudging your face toward him made you inhale shallowly, “Keep your eyes on me, okay? You and I won’t be playing any games here. Understood? I’m gonna need you to be open with me. Tell me what you want.”

The way he was speaking to you and the soft touch of his hand had you almost convinced you were in some kind of sexy dream that you were about to wake up from any minute.

“I…” your voice was breathy, shaky, “I think… anything.” You worried at your lip between your teeth and hoped he’d take over for you. Hoped he’d answer the question for you.

He shifted his hand to thumb over your bottom lip and pulled at it, “Don’t do that. Gonna hurt yourself. Tell me what anything means, Y/n. I’m not a mind reader.”

You cleared your throat and looked to the edge of the room and he tiskd at you, “I said keep your eyes on me, love.”

“Sorry,” you turned your gaze back to his.

“You’re having a hard time coming up with an answer then? Want me to throw out some ideas you can say yes or no to?”

You nodded.

“Well, I’ll start off by naming something I think you’d like, something I’ve been dreaming about doing to you. Okay?”

You continued to nod.

Harry took your hand in his, pulling it to his lap, “I want to show you what it feels like to be eaten out by a man who enjoys it more than almost anything in the world. Would you like that?”

You let out a quiet moan and nodded, “Yeah.”

He nodded as he stood and pulled you up with him, “Let’s start there then.”

A/N: Hope you enjoyed part 1! I promise you that the smut will commence in part 2 (and be prepared, part 2 has approximately 9k words of smut out of 10.8k words total, so she's FILTHY)

PART 2

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[makoodles]

ミ the mightiest

part 1 | part 2

🍓 pairing: neteyam x human fem reader 🍓tags: nsfw, aged up neteyam (obviously), jealousy, alien cultural misunderstandings, oral sex (f receiving) vaginal sex, size kink, voyeurism, brief na'vi oc x reader, mentions of reader sleeping with other na'vi men

masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

notes: okay i had to split this into two parts because it surpassed the tumblr word limit 🙃 here’s part 1, and I’ll post part 2 in a day or two!

adult neteyam art created by the incredibly talented @cinetrix, whose work motivated me to write for adult neteyam in the first place!!

The tsahìk’s hut is cool and dark, offering a much needed reprieve from the hot balmy air of the day outside. It’s been a quiet day for you, though you can’t complain about that; it’s a pleasant change of pace from the usual hectic rush of people that usually pass through.

It’s one of the rare days that Mo’at has left you to tend to the duties of the healing hut alone; it had taken years to reach this level of trust with her, and you find yourself almost deliriously proud to be able to help out. Na’vi medicinal practices are very different to human ones, but your training in first-aid has given you enough knowledge and experience to hold your own when it comes to helping out with the smaller day-to-day ailments that tend to pass through the healing hut.

Besides, you’re always happy to give Mo’at a break. She had claimed that she needed time to commune with Eywa, though secretly you suspect that she just likes to take some time to herself in her old age. But that’s fine – you’ve always found helping out in the healing hut soothing, and your heart swells at the fact that Mo’at trusts you enough to leave you in charge, even if it’s only for a few hours.

It also helps when your patient is a big, hunky alien warrior with more muscles than brains, who sits in front of you as you smear a herbal paste over the scratches he had gotten in training earlier that day.

Txeyto is not an easy patient; he flinches when you prod his wounds, whines when you clean them, and complains as you smear the paste on his scrapes. It’s a little irritating, but the sight of his big broad shoulders and chiselled abdomen is enough to soothe the worst of your aggravation.

“Are you nearly finished?” Txeyto complains, flinching away from your fingers once more.

You bite your tongue and force a smile. Patience has never been your strong suit, and Txeyto is certainly testing the short reserves you have left. But he’s very handsome, and very skilled at archery, and you feel that his physical attractiveness outweighs the minor personality flaws.

“Yes, just another few moments.” You murmur, keeping your voice low and soothing as though speaking to a child.

Txeyto settles a little when you use the baby voice on him, and you struggle to keep your face blank at the ridiculousness of it all. Men are such children, even the big strong Na’vi warriors that should be above such behaviour. He’s lucky he’s handsome.

“How did you get these injuries, hm?” You ask, using a light touch to dab some of Mo’at’s specially formulated healing paste onto his scrapes. You keep your fingers as gentle as possible, but Txetyo still winces dramatically.

He perks up at your question, his tails swaying low over the floor where you’re both sat cross-legged. “I have been training very hard. I am one of the best archers in the village now.”

“No doubt.” You murmur distractedly as you work.

“But it is important for a tsamsiyu to be competent in many forms of combat, so I must practice my hand-to-hand combat also,” Txetyo continues, apparently forgetting to wince now that he’s talking. “Neteyam has been helping me train.”

Ah. You can’t help the face you make at that, and you’re thankful that Txeyto’s back is facing you so that he can’t see your expression. You also can’t help the way you cast a quick glance towards the entrance to the hut, as though worried that simply speaking the name aloud will summon Toruk Makto’s eldest son.

“Is that right?” You say, keeping your tone carefully neutral. “So, he’s the one that got you all scraped up like this?”

Txetyo’s shoulders flex under your hands, and you realise without looking at his face that you’ve stung his pride.

“I scraped him up also.” He grumbles, shifting to try and peer over his shoulder. “They are wounds to be proud of, as I got them in combat.”

You don’t think that a couple of minor scratches from wrestling around in the mud with one of the village’s biggest dickheads count as combat wounds, but you don’t argue. You just hum non-committedly, paying more attention to his bruises than is entirely necessary.

“You should be careful,” You say instead, running your fingers carefully over one of the bruises discolouring the pretty blue skin of his defined bicep. “It’s a shame to see these lovely muscles all bruised up.”

There’s a long moment’s pause. It seems as though the cogs in Txetyo’s head are working slowly, because he seems to be struggling to understand your flirty tone of voice. But when it finally seems to click, he turns his head to peer at you with wide, curious eyes.

“Ah,” He says, his shoulders squaring as he seems to preen. “You like them?”

God, he really is a little dumb. But that’s okay. You don’t necessarily need a man with brains.

“Mhmm,” You hum, allowing your hand to rest on the bulge of his bicep. “I like strong men.”

That’s true, if a little bit of an oversimplification. You’ve lived as a human on Pandora your whole life, but it was only in recent years since you’ve reached adulthood that you’ve started really paying attention to the people around you. And good lord, you had some impressive specimens to look at.

You find yourself drawn to their athletic and toned bodies, their radiant blue skin, their cat-like grace and agility. Maybe it’s because you had grown up on Pandora with no humans your age other than Spider, but you find yourself especially drawn to your size. The sheer size of their hands alone are enough to fluster you, especially when your brain is flooded with images of those big hands in other contexts.

And luckily for you, there’s no shortage of Na’vi that are interested in experimenting with humans, too.

Txetyo visibly perks up, his ears twitching forward as he finally seems to notice the way your much smaller hands are lingering on his body as you patch him up.

“I am very strong.” He says, tail thumping against the ground.

You fight the urge to sigh. He’ll never make a great conversationalist, but that’s alright. He’s big and strong and handsome, and you just want to relieve some tension.

“I know.” You murmur, your lips quirking a little as you shuffle around so that you’re kneeling in front of him, your knees pressed close to his thighs. “But I could still kiss your scratches better, if you’d like.”

Kissing wounds better is definitely a human colloquialism that Txetyo doesn’t understand, judging by the furrow of his brow, but he doesn’t seem to care. He reaches out and wraps a big hand around your waist, and you feel a pulse of arousal low in your belly in response.

“You like my muscles so much that treating my wounds has aroused you?” He asks, the smugness in his voice impossible to miss.

His pompousness is a little irritating, but you can ignore that because his hands are big and warm and it’s exciting to feel his palm start to push its way under your cotton tank top. The few Na’vi men you’ve been with before had been absolutely fascinated with the soft squishiness of your human breasts, so your breath hitches in anticipation as his hand reaches up to grope at your tits over your bra.

Okay, you can probably admit that you’re a little pent up. It’s probably a terrible idea to allow Txetyo to feel you up like this in the middle of the healing hut, but you’re horny.

If you’re telling the truth, you’ve been hoping for a chance like this all week – but there’s one thing, one irritation, that has been preventing you by interrupting every damn chance you’ve gotten alone with any man.

In fact, you’ve been interrupted so often and so many times that you’re almost expecting it, even as Txetyo’s big hands squeeze at your tits. He’s a little rough with it, but he’s so much bigger than you that you suppose that’s unavoidable – besides, his strength only adds to the thrill.

Then, just like clockwork, as though there’s some kind of sensor that goes off whenever you’re about to get some, there’s a rustling sound by the entrance of the hut before the little woven drape covering the doorway is pulled back.

And then, who else would be standing there, but Neteyam. One of the few people on the whole planet that can actually ruin your whole day just by showing his stupid face.

His eyes find you, but his expression doesn’t change as he glances over your flustered expression and the hand that Txetyo still has shoved up your top. He tilts his head, and it feels as though he’s examining every damn detail all at once; the ointment smeared all over Txetyo’s bruises from training, the way you’ve shuffled so close to Txetyo that you’re practically straddling his thigh, your unsteady breathing behind your mask.

“Ah. Am I interrupting?” He asks with a hint of wry humour to his voice, as though he hasn’t interrupted every attempt at getting laid you’ve made this month.

It has to be on purpose. That, or he has some sort of nearly supernatural sense for when you’re horny, because he always seems to show up every goddamned time. Somehow it’s gotten worse in the last few weeks, too. You’ve barely been able to get a moment alone with whoever you’ve been chatting up before Neteyam has appeared, snapping at them to get back to training or duties or whatever lousy excuse he’s been able to come up with in the moment.

“What do you want?” You snap, impatient and too strung tight to waste your energy on pretending at politeness.

A very delayed reaction finally hits Txetyo, and he scrambles to remove his hand from the inside of your top. His hand alone is so large that the outline of it is painfully obvious even through your shirt, and you close your eyes with a sigh as he clumsily pushes himself away from you in a rather ungainly attempt at pretending nothing was going on.

“Neteyam!” He blurts, his ears flattening against his skull. He’s clearly mortified at being caught in such a position by Toruk Makto’s son, and he overcompensates by attempting to scoot away as though he hadn’t even been touching you.

You try not to roll your eyes – you’re used to this, after all. You’ve been with several Na’vi men, but they all seem to have the same sort of embarrassment about actually being open with the fact that they’ve hooked up with you. You can’t be all that annoyed about it, you suppose. You understand where it’s coming from. You’ve been around the Omaticaya your whole life, and while the taboo of having Sky People around has faded somewhat, that doesn’t mean that anyone is actually willing to admit that they’ve been with you.

You’re used to it. It’s fine. You’re just a little mortified that Neteyam is currently witnessing the scramble for Txetyo to get away from you.

He’s watching the other man with his head still tilted to the side, his big golden eyes dark in the cool shade of the hut. A muscle in his jaw is flexing, like he’s trying not to laugh.

“I will- I will see you later?” Txetyo whispers to you as he stands. He probably intended for his voice to be low enough that it stayed between just you and him, but the hut is quiet enough that there’s no doubt Neteyam can hear him just fine.

“Mhm. Yeah.” You murmur back, watching Txetyo’s big broad back as he steps away from you, all hasty and flustered.

Txetyo gets as far as Neteyam, who’s still standing with his arms crossed in the doorway. Neteyam doesn’t so much as shift, his eyes dragging with lazy satisfaction over the myriad of scrapes and bruises that he had left on Txetyo during their sparring earlier.

Txetyo shifts on his feet, visibly nervous in the face of his future chief’s judgement. “Ah… Will we train again tomorrow, Neteyam?”

Neteyam hums non-committedly, before finally stepping away from the doorway. He brushes past Txetyo, and you wonder if he’s always so dismissive of his fellow warriors or if he’s just being an even bigger dickhead today for some reason.

“We will see.” Neteyam says shortly, though he’s not even looking Txetyo’s way.

Taking that as the dismissal it so clearly is, Txetyo nods awkwardly before disappearing out of the hut, leaving you and Neteyam alone.

For a long moment, you do your best to avoid looking up. You’re beyond irritated right now, made so much worse by the fact that your panties are kind of wet and you’re so fucking desperate for attention right now. The little wooden bowls knock together clumsily as you try to arrange them without looking up, but it becomes difficult when Neteyam lowers himself down to sit opposite you.

“The tsahìk’s hut is a bold place for such activities.” He says, and you don’t have to look up to know that there’s a stupid smug look on his face. “What would my grandmother think?”

As he sits down, he places a woven bag by your knee. You don’t need to look at it to know what it is; he’s always bringing stuff to the healing hut for his grandmother. Herbs or medicinal plants, fibres for weaving bandages, even animal bones that he had whittled down for needles for suturing.

Even you can grudgingly admit it’s thoughtful; but he only ever seems to bring it when you’re around. It’s like he just wants to rub it in your face that he excels at everything he does – it’s extremely annoying.

You finally look up, your face already scrunched in a scowl. “What do you want?”

He raises his hairless brows at you, an expression he no doubt learned from his father. “I would like my cuts from training treated. What else would I be here for?”

And now you know that he’s just messing with you, because while Txetyo was covered in bruises and abrasions from his tough training session earlier, Neteyam doesn’t have a single visible scratch.

“What exactly am I supposed to treat?” You ask, voice tight.

Neteyam shifts, proffering you his shoulder, and you see a single scrape along his otherwise flawless striped blue skin. You purse your lips, staring at it in mild disbelief.

“You can’t be serious.” You say, deadpan.

But it’s clear that Neteyam is serious, because he’s already stretching out on the comfy woven rugs of his grandmother’s hut as if he belongs there. It’s obvious that he has no intention of moving – he must have come here just to torture you.

You blow out a frustrated breath, the inside of your respirator mask fogging up briefly before rapidly clearing. Neteyam is infuriating. He gets under your skin in a way that no one else does, as though he knows every goddamn little button to press just to aggravate you.

Maybe it’s just a by-product of having been raised as next in line to lead the Omaticaya, or of being Toruk Makto’s oldest son, but you’ve always found Neteyam closed off and distant.

Truthfully, you can’t say for certain if he’s always been this way. When you were young teenagers, you hadn’t had much contact with him; he was always busy with his own training, and then the whole Sully family had left for Awa’atlu. When they had returned, several years later, Neteyam had been more reserved, and yet somehow even cockier and more confident than ever.

“I don’t understand you. There’s no need for you to get this scrape seen to, and you know it. You just like wasting my time.”

He just watches you as you complain, his eyes hooded and dark in a way that honestly leaves you a little heated. He doesn’t deny it, which only irritates you further. You knew he was just trying to annoy you!

“It’s your job to treat wounds when you’re here, isn’t it?” He asks, and you can see the way his tail is lazily undulating behind him, skimming across the woven carpet. He’s enjoying arguing with you.

You huff out a put-upon sigh, before grabbing two of the jars. The ointment is naturally antiseptic but it goes on with quite a sting; you try not to feel satisfied about that as you coat your fingers in it before dabbing it onto the scrape on Neteyam’s shoulder. You’re not as gentle as you’d usually be either, your patience is too thin for you to be considerate with him right now.

But this is not Txetyo. This is Neteyam, and he doesn’t so much as flinch as you rub the paste over his still sluggishly bleeding scratch, even though you know it must sting. You try not to feel irked by his stoicism.

As you work, Neteyam’s head rolls back. In a move that’s almost imperceptible, his nostrils flare and he scents the air. You assume it’s the fairly astringent scent of the herbal paste you’ve just pulled out that’s bothering him, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Problem?”

His lips quirk, though he manages to keep his expression neutral. “No. I am simply enjoying being under your tender care.”

You narrow your eyes at him. He’s mocking you now.

The fact that he had walked in on Txetyo’s hand up your top as he groped at your tits feels like a heavy unspoken weight in between you as you dab at his minor wound. You keep waiting for him to bring it up, to laugh at you for it, but he remains stubbornly quiet as you work, his golden eyes watching you in quiet contemplation.

In fact, he’s never brought up any of the times he’s interrupted you right before you got with someone. He’s caught you in varying levels of undress, with Na’vi men over you, under you, holding you, touching you, kissing you, but somehow just before anything good actually happened. Every time the men had scrambled away from you as though you were something diseased, mortified at being caught with a tawtute by Neteyam, a man that (for some reason you can’t comprehend) they seem to have an awful lot of respect for.

In the beginning, you were inclined to come up with excuses for him; he was Jake Sully’s oldest son, and was inevitably going to keep track of his peers and where they disappeared off to when they had duties that they should be attending to. But now, you think he’s doing it to spite you specifically. It might be a bit of a self-centred thing to believe, but you’re almost certain of it.

You shift on your knees beside him, raising yourself up a little to ensure that you’ve covered all parts of his scrape. You don’t want him returning tomorrow to complain that you didn’t do a good job.

You have to bite back another sigh as you do so, your thighs rubbing together in a way that sends a sharp jolt up your spine. You’re horny and needy and so, so resentful of the fact that you’re now treating the same man that’s the direct cause of your state right now.

Neteyam’s attitude wasn’t the only thing that changed in his time away, however. You have to keep your eyes fixed carefully on his bruising shoulder, because if you didn’t you know that your gaze would wander, and that’s a dangerous game to be playing in the presence of someone as perceptive as Neteyam.

But it’s difficult not to look. Time and ocean air has been kind to him; he’s grown as tall as his father, and whatever sort of training or work he had been doing with the Metkayina has resulted in broader shoulders and a more sturdy build than is typical of the Omaticaya. It’s galling to admit, and makes you feel as though you’ve eaten something sour and unpleasant, but Neteyam is hot as hell.

He might be aggravating and smug and too cocky, but no one in their right mind could deny that he’s attractive. Not even you. Especially you, if you’re being honest with yourself, considering your penchant for enormous blue alien men that could snap you in two with a pinkie if they felt so inclined.

God, you really have to think about something else. You’re so wet that your panties are starting to get uncomfortable, so you focus determinedly on the resentment that’s still simmering over the fact that Neteyam had interrupted what was promising to be a very productive encounter with Txetyo.

Neteyam shuffles a little where he’s sitting in front of you, and your eyes track the way his muscles bunch and shift under his vibrant blue skin. Damn, but seeing Na’vi musculature up close never gets old, even if it’s Neteyam.

You’re almost finished with dabbing paste on the tiny scrape (and you hate to admit that it had taken you longer than it should have due to your distraction), when Neteyam half-turns his head towards you.

“My back is sore, also.” He murmurs, though his eyes remain downcast.

You pause, staring at him. “Okay. And?”

There’s a moment where the two of you just look expectantly at each other. When nothing comes of that, Neteyam speaks again.

“You are playing healer today, are you not?” He asks, and his left ear twitches oddly. “Or is your attention all reserved for Txetyo, hm?”

Your cheeks heat in humiliation and your jaw clenches. You knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself from making some sort of stupid comment.

“Lay down.” You snap, prickly and embarrassed.

“Yes ma’am.” Neteyam purrs, probably all satisfied that he’s gotten under your skin. He reclines, all of those lithe muscles flexing and bunching as he rolls over onto his stomach.

You grab another pot of ointment, and then take a moment to steady yourself.

You know that he’s winding you up on purpose, just like always, but you can never figure out why. He doesn’t treat you like any of the other men in the village do – they might enjoy fucking you, but they’re rarely caught dead in public with you, worried about what it might mean for their own reputations.

Neteyam is bolder, more confident; though the burden of responsibility that he carries is unmistakable, he never seems to get caught up with the petty whispering and musings of the village people. It’s just unfortunate that he seems so set on bothering you.

Your mouth goes dry as your eyes drop mindlessly over the expanse of his long, pretty back. His skin is stretched tight over lithe muscle, little luminescent white freckles glinting like little stars. He looks so smooth, though the flawlessness of his body is marred by thick pale scars that litter his skin, courtesy of the near legendary battle with the RDA that you hear happened off the coast of Awa’atlu.

You glance down, flustered. Fuck. It would be so much easier to hate him if he wasn’t physically perfect.

“Problem?” Neteyam’s voice is a little lower in register than it was before, perhaps because he’s lying on his stomach with his head pillowed under his crossed arms.

You twitch. Shit. You had gotten distracted, and had lost yourself staring at him.

“No. Shut up.” You blurt reflexively, dipping your fingers into the oily ointment used for easing sore muscles.

Neteyam huffs quietly, a sound that could be a grunt or a laugh, but doesn’t bother responding. It makes you feel as though you’ve lost a game you didn’t know you were playing.

Antsy and on edge, you lean forward and survey his strong back properly. When he's laying out in front of you like this you can see the way his back is knotted with tension and his shoulders are hiked up around his ears. It doesn't look too bad, but it can't be comfortable either.

You take one more moment to admire the musculature of his shoulders, before gathering yourself and dipping your fingers into the ointment. It's balmy against your fingers and smells a little bit like blueberries, and begins to tingle when your hand is entirely coated.

"Where does it hurt most?" You ask, your voice quiet.

In the silence, you can hear Neteyam’s throat click when he swallows.

"My neck and shoulders." When he speaks, his voice is a little deeper than expected.

The very first touch to Neteyam’s back pulls a quiet sigh out of him; it sounds like relief.

Considering his size, it takes surprisingly little to have him melting under your hands. Your fingers spread under his scapula, finding a knot in the muscle and pressing in hard. It takes a bit of finagling, but after some firm pressure you feel the muscle begin to soften beneath your touch.

Gaining confidence, you return your kneading fingers to his neck. He really is terribly tense, and shivering spasms flit up and down the muscles of his back in regular intervals as you drag the warm palms of your hands over him. As your fingers work into his tense muscles, he lets out quiet little grunts that are muffled by the cradle of his arms.

“Why were you so hard on Txetyo during training?” You ask as your fingers dig into the tense tissue of his back. Your voice is unintentionally loud in the quiet of the hut. “He looked as though he had been attacked by a thanator when he was here earlier.”

Neteyam just grunts. “Txetyo is an overconfident skxawng. He is not nearly as skilled as he thinks he is.”

You click your tongue, dissatisfied with that answer. “I could say the same about you.”

Just like all your attempts to insult him, your words seem to bounce right off him. Stupid thick-skinned bastard. His pretty mouth tilts up in a smile.

“I have the skills to back it up, paskalin.”

Your lips purse at the name, your cheeks hot. God, he’s such an asshole.

When you exert pressure as you run your fingers down his spine, Neteyam grunts softly into his arms. The sound is startling in the quiet, interrupting the steady rhythm of your quiet breathing.

"Does that hurt?" You ask. Your voice comes out a little shakier than you’d like.

"No." Neteyam’s voice comes out in a low, gravelly rumble. The sound of it almost startles you into snatching your hands away, but you manage to refrain yourself. "Keep going."

You just swallow thickly, and try to keep yourself on task. “He just wants to be better. He was excited to train with you–”

“Lower.” Neteyam groans, shifting under your hands.

You clench your teeth. Really, you should probably just walk away from him. There’s no real need for you to be doing any of this. He’s not even injured, and who knows whether he’s telling the truth about his back being tense.

But you’re stupid, and you’ve never been good at walking away, from either fighting or fucking. This strange encounter feels as though it lies somewhere in the middle of those two things. Your palms drag down to his lower back, and he flinches briefly before melting under your touch.

His body is so big that it’s difficult to get a good angle to knead properly at his tense muscles, and before you can think too hard about it you swing your leg over his hips. You settle back, perching your weight cautiously at the base of his spine.

It's a braver move than you would usually make, but you try not to second-guess yourself — like this, you have so much more leverage to rub at the rigid sinews of his back. You drag your knuckles down the length of his spine and he groans into the cradle of his arms.

You try to ignore the excited flutter in your belly. It’s just Neteyam. You’re not actually getting turned on from this; the only reason you’re so affected is because you had been horny with Txetyo. You shift where you’re sitting on his back, but you have to force yourself still almost immediately, because the friction nearly makes your lungs seize.

“Comfortable?” Neteyam murmurs, and you can hear amusement in his voice.

“Shut up.” You say reflexively, before scowling. “I can’t believe you interrupted me and Txetyo just for this. You have, like, one bruise–”

“It’s a very sore bruise.” He murmurs lazily, sounding unbothered. “Do you think squeezing your tits might help? That seemed to help Txetyo feel better.”

You pause, jaw dropping in indignation. “I– shut up!”

Neteyam makes a noise that sounds like a snicker, and you dig your fingers down the planes of his back vengefully. His waist narrows into an elegant taper, and when you reach the part of his back where his ass begins to swell, you exert firm pressure against the base of his tail.

If you had done it to a human, you know it would have hurt. But instead the tightness of the muscle unfurls under your fingers, and Neteyam gives a long, low groan. The sound is delightfully gravelly, and you take a breath as you feel molten heat ooze down into your belly and settle between your legs. It’s not a reaction you had been expecting.

You sit back onto his lower back, avoiding his tail. From here, you have a truly captivating view of how slick his back looks from the ointment, and how his skin glows in the dim light of the hut. His body really is perfect, and your eyes track over the taut shiny scars that litter his skin.

“Mmm. May I get up? Or do you want to sit on me a little while longer?” Neteyam’s low voice breaks you out of your stupor, and you’re horrified to find that you’ve just been sitting there with your wet panties pressed against his back beneath your thin shorts.

You scramble off him quickly, flustered and clumsy. It had been a bold move to straddle him in the first place, and now you feel very stupid about it.

“You should apologise to Txetyo.” You blurt, just to say something into the silence.

“Why are we still talking about Txetyo?” Neteyam has always been a relatively tolerant and even-keeled man, but you can hear irritation beginning to bubble up in his voice.

“Because–” You start to say, but then Neteyam rolls over so that he’s laying on his back.

Now that he's lying on his back, stretched out all long and lithe, your eyes rove over his face and then down his throat, his chest, his stomach, his hips. Your eyes catch on the protrusion between his legs and stick there, your mouth dropping open in surprise when you see that his loincloth is tented.

“Because- he… you were too–” You try valiantly to finish your sentence, but your thoughts have scattered to the wind.

He’s hard. Why the fuck is he hard? Is that just from you rubbing his back? Oh my god, what are you supposed to say? It feels like his hard-on is staring at you.

Neteyam pushes himself up into a sitting position, his hands planted on the woven rug behind him as he pushes himself up so that he’s sitting looming over you. Once he’s upright, Neteyam flexes his shoulders and groans slightly as he goes. It doesn't sound like a pained groan, thankfully.

The movement brings him closer to you than you had been expecting, and you end up freezing. Like this, you can see the way his expression has smoothed into one of relief. His shoulders are looser too, no longer held bunched up around his neck.

Neteyam doesn't seem to notice your close proximity, nor the way you have tensed at the lack of space between them. You’re not touching, but you’re so close that you swear you can physically feel the air between you.

“If Txetyo is so upset about being beaten by me in training, then he should focus on getting better instead of slinking away with his tail between his legs and trying to screw you in a corner of my grandmother’s hut.”

You gape at him like an absolute idiot, floored by the acerbity in his tone. You’ve always thought Neteyam was a bit of a dickhead, but that was mostly because of his nearly insufferable need to always be the best. Always the best warrior, the best son, the best brother, the best future Olo’eyktan. The best role model to his peers.

“So that’s what this is about.” You say, your voice coming out distinctly accusatory. “You don’t like that your friends are fucking a human, is that it?”

Neteyam doesn’t even bother answering. He just rolls his now loosened shoulders and watches you carefully. He doesn't tell you to back off, or wrinkle his nose at you, or act as though he's repulsed by you. He just stares at you across the miniscule space between you, and that only angers you further.

“Is that why you keep interrupting whenever I’m with any of the other tsamsiyu?” You demand, fists clenching. “What, you don’t like that your friends find a tawtute attractive? Is that why you keep cockblocking me?”

Neteyam huffs a quiet snort, as though he thinks you’re being stupid.

“I hear what some of the Na’vi in the village say, about how it’s shameful to be with a tawtute.” You hiss. “I just didn’t think you’d be one of them.”

And if you’re honest with yourself, it sort of hurts. Neteyam has always gotten on your nerves with his confusing mix of overconfidence and jagged insecurities, and he had really infuriated you when he had started to interrupt all of those illicit little meetups you had planned with some of the boys in the village, but you hadn’t actually thought that he had any disdain for you like some of the other Na’vi.

And then you do something so stupid that it shocks even you.

Your eyes drop back down to the tent in his tewng, eyeing it thoughtfully, before reaching out and running your fingers over the hardened outline of his cock through the fabric with purpose.

Neteyam hisses, and his hips actually lift off the floor in an attempt to follow your touch.

“God, you’re a hypocrite, aren’t you?” You breathe, fighting to keep your voice casual. “How can you judge your friends for fucking around with me when you’re this hard after just a backrub?”

“They’re not my friends.” Neteyam grunts, his jaw clenching as his head tilts back. His hips rock into your hand.

Your touch goes firmer, and then your hand slips under his loincloth. You’ve had plenty of sexual encounters with Na’vi men, but this is different.

This is Neteyam. This encounter feels like proving a point. A very sexually charged point.

His cock is silky smooth and hot to the touch, and you feel a little drunk as your fingers close around it. And damn, it feels big. All Na’vi cocks are big compared to your hands, but this… feels different. You were aroused anyway, you’ve been feeling pent up all damn week, but now that your hand is on his dick your nerves are fizzing up.

It’s a surprise when Neteyam’s big hand settles on your waist to tug you closer, and you feel your stomach swoop when he pulls you forward. You don’t release his cock even as he pulls you to settle over one of his thighs, your legs slotted in between his, and you can feel him harden even further beneath you.

You wonder absently if it's really you that's causing his very obvious arousal or if it's just a natural consequence of the massage; either way, when his hips flex up towards you, they press right in between your legs.

You shiver almost violently, the sensation of him pressing hot and hard against your core frying your nerves and wiping your thoughts clean. The part of your brain that had been screaming about what a bad idea this whole thing is has become muffled now, and your own hips jerk against his.

“You’re such an asshole,” You say, though your voice comes out reedy and breathless. “You of all people don’t have a right to talk shit about those guys just cause they’re into humans, especially when your cock is this hard, and especially considering where your dad came from–”

He lets out a soft, quiet noise as you move against him, and uses his grip on the back of your top to pull you tighter against him yet again. “Don’t talk about my father when you have my cock in your hand.”

It takes what feels like a monumental effort to wrench your hand away from him, and he lets out a wordless grunt of dissatisfaction as his hips twitch in an effort to follow your hand. It’s delightfully pathetic, and you feel your ego swell at the sheer sense of power that washes over you; it’s a rare feeling, especially when you’re faced with a big blue alien almost twice your size.

“You should apologise to Txetyo.” You sound like an out of breath idiot. “It’s not like you can judge him for being with a tawtute when you’re that hard from me just touching you.”

Neteyam just stares at you, his jaw clenching and his honey eyes dark as he takes several breaths through his nose. You’ve never seen him like this before; you’ve never seen any of the men you’ve been with like this before. It looks as though he’s holding onto a thin veneer of control, and you wonder if he’s angry with you, if you’ve perhaps pushed him too far.

“That was never the issue.” He says and fuck, his voice has gone so gravelly. “And don’t pretend that you’re not wet beneath those clothes of yours. I can smell it.”

Your thighs squeeze together as you swallow hard, struggling to maintain your aura of indifference and no doubt failing.

“That’s because of Txetyo.” You say, and it tastes like a lie on your tongue. “You interrupted us.”

Neteyam laughs quietly and humourlessly. His expression suggests that he doesn’t find anything about this conversation funny, and his hand is still splayed across your back. You’re so damn conscious of how big his palm is as it spreads across your spine. Why the hell hasn’t he let go of you yet?

“Ah, I see.” Neteyam murmurs. “You would have fucked him in my grandmother’s hut?”

Your mouth is so damn dry, and you swallow compulsively. “It’s not any of your business who I fuck.”

Neteyam’s smile is grim. “Txetyo would fuck his own shadow if he were nimble enough to catch it. You have terrible taste in men.”

You rear back. You’re surprised by how much that hurts. Living as a human on Pandora is lonely, and it’s not like you have people lining up outside the human outpost looking to spend time with you. If you want any sort of companionship or intimacy, you have to accept any attention that you can get. And sure, most of that attention comes from men that only want to get their dicks wet, or the experience of being with a tawtute, but it’s better than nothing at all.

“Well, we can’t all be the Olo’eyktan’s son.” You say, your voice stiff and cold. “We don’t all have countless suitors throwing themselves at our feet. Some of us have to accept attention from whoever’s interested.”

Neteyam’s expression shifts, an odd look appearing in his eyes, and your stomach swoops. You don’t think you could bear to see pity in his eyes, so you pull away from him, shaking his hands off.

“Your scratch is fine.” You say, your voice thin and a little thready. “You’re all treated.

“Hey–”

As you stumble to your feet, Neteyam reaches out as if to stop you. You dodge his hands, unable to look him in the eye.

Panic is starting to set in now; what had you been thinking, touching him like that just after he had chided you for flirting with Txetyo in the tsahìk’s hut? God, you feel like such an idiot. He must think you’re so pathetic.

Like a coward, you turn on your heel and flee out of the hut. You need air, you need to be out of the cool darkness of the hut, you need to be away from the overwhelming weight of Neteyam’s presence. Through the blood rushing in your ears you can distantly hear Neteyam call to you, but you’re too desperate to escape from the whole humiliating interaction to stop and listen.

You stagger out of the hut, squinting at the evening light; it seems blinding after spending all day in the dim musty air of Mo’at’s healing hut. You pat at your rumpled shirt and creased denim shorts, flustered and frenzied as you try to straighten yourself out.

“Tawtute?”

You jerk, gasping, and whirl to find that Txetyo is sitting on a log a few feet away from the hut, apparently waiting for you to finish up with Neteyam. You feel like you’re burning up from a mixture of mortification and confused arousal and you’re certain that Neteyam is about to follow you out.

“I– I have to go!” You blurt, already stepping back towards the forest.

Txetyo frowns, obviously bewildered, but he doesn’t stand. “Don’t you want to–”

You don’t wait for him to finish. You’re already fleeing, disappearing into the trees as you run the whole way home.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

It might be a little cowardly, but you avoid the village for days after that.

You stick to the outpost, watching Norm and Max and the other scientists work. You try not to die of boredom, and you try not to overthink and overthink and overthink.

But you have too much time on your hands as you slink around the outpost, and you can’t stop feeling guilty about abandoning your attempts to help Mo’at out in her healing hut.

You also can’t stop thinking about the shift of Neteyam’s muscles in the low dim light, or the silky hot feel of his cock in your hand, or the soft breathy grunts he had let out as his hips rocked. It feels like the experience has actually rewired your brain, as though you’ll never recover from it.

Growing up on Pandora as a human has been lonely. The only other human your age is Spider, who had become the closest thing you have to a brother – and you love him even when you feel like throttling him, but sometimes you just yearn for more.

You want companionship, you want understanding, you want romance, you want sexual intimacy. You don’t think it’s too much to ask for, and if you have to turn to big nine-feet-tall Na’vi warriors who just want to say they’ve had the experience of sleeping with a tawtute, then that’s… fine. Even if it’s only temporary.

Part of you is honestly relieved when Spider finally manages to force you out of the outpost and back to the village. It’s a relief to get back into the forest, to the village, to the life you’re used to. The outpost has nothing on the vibrancy of the village life, and you feel as though you can breathe for the first time in days upon stepping back into the village, even if it’s through your respirator mask.

There’s been a big hunt today, and the village is buzzing with excitement. You pass by several willowy Na’vi covered in celebratory paint, and follow the sound of the heavy thumping of drums.

The evening after a hunt is always a joyful affair, and you gradually start to relax throughout the night. You feast on collected fruit, hum along to some of the music, and sit comfortably with Spider all evening. At some point you’re joined by Lo’ak, which you don’t mind either; Lo’ak has always been the kind of outcast that fits comfortably between the edges of you and Spider. Those edges have smoothed out as he got older, but he’s always been a cool guy to hang out with.

When he’s not joining Spider in ganging up on you, that is.

“So– so wait, wait, let me get this straight,” Lo’ak is waving his hands as though trying to settle down a group of rowdy children, even though it’s just the three of you present. “Neteyam walked in on you fucking again, but this time it was in grandmother’s hut–”

You’re sat around the large campfire in the middle of the village, tucked away from the main celebrations. Part of you is flourishing being in this environment again, but another part is withering at this damn conversation. You glance around nervously, hoping that no casual observers can hear you guys talking.

“Txetyo only had his hand up my top!” You hiss hastily. “We weren’t actually– and we would have gone somewhere else when it came down to it!”

“Txetyo is a dickhead.” Spider complains, leaning heavily on your side. He’s so frequently dwarfed by the Na’vi that it’s easy to forget that he’s over six-feet-tall and corded with muscle, and his bulk is heavy.

Irritatingly, Lo’ak leans into you the same way on the other side, though he’s more careful about leaning his full weight, and you end up crushed in between the two idiots.

“He isn’t.” You protest, pushing back against their weight. “He’s–”

“Nah, he is.” Lo’ak interrupts before you can defend him. “Total skxawng. You know he keeps telling people he’s the best archer in the clan? And yet he didn’t manage to catch anything in today’s hunt–”

You try not to wince at that. It’s impossible to miss that while Txetyo may not have been successful in the hunt today, someone else is being lauded for their skill and success.

Neteyam has been given a place of honour by the fire next to his parents, and the careful swirls of paint all over his body can’t hide the proud glow on his face. Under the smooth veneer of Neteyam’s smiles and cheer was the jagged edge of his inferiority complex, his need to always be better and to be liked. Funnily enough, his insecurity has always been your favourite part of him. It felt real in a way his cockiness didn’t.

You can’t stop yourself from glancing over. Night has already fallen and there are many couples dancing, the flickering firelight sending wild shadows across the gathering. But even in the unsteady light, you catch the intense golden stare of Neteyam watching you from across the circle.

You hastily turn your face away, pressing your lips together tight as you try to pretend like you hadn’t been looking in the first place.

“–He’s better than Art’alak, at least.” Spider says, continuing on the conversation that you had checked out of for a few moments. “That guy was awful. I mean, what did you even see in him?”

You roll your eyes, sinking further back into the stupidly heavy weight of Spider and Lo’ak in a silly attempt to hide yourself from view. It almost definitely doesn’t work, and you can still feel the weight of Neteyam’s stare on you, even as you fixedly ignore him.

“Pretty sure we don’t want the answer to that one, man.” Lo’ak says, snickering.

His eyes glance around, before flashing across the gathering as though he can also feel Neteyam’s attention. You frown as Lo’ak hastily removes his arm from around your shoulders, even leaning away from you a little.

“I’m allowed to want company.” You say loftily, though you’re certain that your voice is a little shaky.

It feels like your skin is heating up under Neteyam’s eyes, and you feel yourself getting shifty. Why won’t he just look away?

Lo’ak obviously notices his brother’s attention, because he leans a little closer so he can speak quietly in your ear.

“My brother can be unbearable,” Lo’ak murmurs, “But he’s not a bad guy.”

“Gross.” You wrinkle your nose playfully at Lo’ak’s rare display of sincerity about his brother and he hisses at you, swiping at your head.

It’s all in jest, which is obvious given how gentle his hands are with you, and you laugh and lean away.

“I just– I don’t understand him.” You sigh once your laughter has tapered off. “I mean, I get that he doesn’t approve of the whole interspecies thing, but it’s like he goes out of his way to catch me in embarrassing situations. If he finds it gross, why seek it out?”

Lo’ak purses his lips and avoids your eyes. “Uh…”

“Anytime he shows up, the guys I’m with go running.” You continue, your brows knitting into a frown. “I mean, it’s getting ridiculous. Why can’t he just mind his own business?”

Lo’ak’s eyes dart over your head, and you just know that he and Spider are sharing a look together.

“He doesn’t– I wouldn’t say he disapproves of interspecies relationships–” Lo’ak says, but he fumbles a little in his attempt to get his words out and darts another panicked glance across the fire towards where Neteyam is sitting with their father.

You just scoff, crossing your arms defensively across your chest. You feel a little vulnerable talking about this; usually, you’re content to suffer through the embarrassment of having your sex partners pretending they don’t know you in public alone, but since Neteyam had started walking in on you, now he knows that they’re doing it too.

“He scolds them like they’re children whenever he walks in on us, talking about how they’re neglecting their duties and all that,” You mutter, scowling. “But it’s obviously because he’s annoyed that his friends are messing around with a Sky Person.”

Spider shifts at your side, making an odd sound beneath his breath. You turn to look at him, but he’s staring rather fixedly at a tree branch overhead. Lo’ak clears his throat, similarly looking off to the side to avoid your eyes.

You frown. It feels as though they’re hiding something from you, and the thought is unsettling.

“What?” You demand, sitting forward and staring intently at them.

“Nothing,” Lo’ak protests, but his voice is a little too high-pitched to be believable. “Uh… It’s just… well, I really don’t think that Neteyam has a problem with interspecies relationships. Our dad came from the Sky, too!”

You think that Lo’ak probably intended for that to be reassuring, but instead you find your stomach sinking miserably.

“Oh.” You say, pursing your lips. “So it’s me that he has a problem with.”

“No!” Lo’ak protests, but then he pauses. His mouth opens and closes as he struggles to form a response under the weight of your narrowed eyes.

When no explanation comes, you end up just averting your gaze and looking towards the fire. It’s stupid, but you’re not sure what you were even expecting. Neteyam has always been perfect in his personal life, his duties, his relationships within the clan, his looks. It’s hardly a surprise that he’s developed a distaste for you – you know what Sky People represent to the Na’vi, after all.

Across the gathering, two Na’vi girls are shooting looks at Spider. You almost think they’re looking at him in disgust, but when Spider catches their eye and smiles back they both look away giggling.

You click your tongue and roll your eyes. You wonder when exactly it was that the Na’vi your age stopped seeing you as human nuisances that haunt the village, and started instead seeing you as people with possible sexual appeal.

“That is just unfair.” You intone dully. “You get Na’vi girls flirting with you from across the campfire, and I get Na’vi boys fucking me in corners and then pretending they don’t know me. And that’s only if I don’t get rudely interrupted by Lo’ak’s asshole brother.”

“Men.” Lo’ak says in a disparaging tone that sounds as though it’s meant to be sympathetic, but it falls short as he’s biting his tongue to keep from laughing. “Maybe you just have bad taste.”

Spider laughs too, though he’s still looking in the Na’vi girls’ direction. There’s a pink flush in his cheeks, and his smile looks distinctly pleased.

“Yeah,” You grumble, sinking down where you’re sitting. “I’m hearing that a lot.”

The conversation moves on then, Lo’ak nudging at Spider over your head and grinning as he recounts the highlights from the hunt earlier that day, but you’re distracted. You hardly even hear a word they say, too busy staring broodingly into the fire.

Luckily, neither Lo’ak nor Spider mind your silence. They’re perfectly content to fill the quiet themselves, chatting and babbling and joking over your head.

You’re drifting, lost in your own thoughts until you hear Lo’ak and Spider go quiet. You glance over to them, only to realise why they’ve stopped talking – Neteyam is walking your way.

You stiffen, eyes narrowing behind your respirator mask as he comes to a stop before you all. He greets his brother and Spider briefly, distractedly, before his big amber eyes settle on you.

All you can do is wait, tensed. You have no idea what he’s going to do or say, but if he says something about that day in the healing hut you might actually scream.

But Neteyam doesn’t immediately say anything. He crouches in front of you, his gaze as measured and even as ever, and proffers a wrapped utumauti leaf to you. For a moment, you just stare at it as though it’s something venomous.

“A portion of yerik meat,” Neteyam clarifies, not even blinking as he watches your face. “From the hunt earlier.”

Oh. Now you see. He’s just showing off, like he always does. He’s always doing things like this, just to show off his skills, his prowess, how strong he is. It’s irritating; everyone already knows how great he is, and he’s already practically revered throughout the village. You don’t know why he keeps trying to flaunt his greatness in front of you, other than the fact that he must love to annoy you.

Spider nudges you in the side, and you reach out to take the wrapped meat from Neteyam’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you.” You say, a little tersely.

Neteyam just nods, his tail coiling. He watches your face for another moment, and all the unspoken tension between you from the other day seems to swell to unbearable heights. His ears twitch, and then he glances over his shoulder to where his parents are sitting by the fire. They’re watching, which makes you feel itchy and embarrassed.

“I should return.” He says simply, before standing and nodding at you, then Spider and Lo’ak, before straightening up and walking back to his place by Jake, his tail swaying low.

There’s a long moment of silence, where you can feel Lo’ak and Spider staring at you.

“Don’t.” You say sharply when you see Lo’ak’s mouth open, and he closes it with a click.

This feels embarrassing, as though Neteyam is mocking you somehow. It’s not the first time he’s given you food, always making sure to let you know he caught it himself. It’s like he has a damn pathological need to show off his skills, to try and prove himself, to prove that he’s better than anyone else. It’s aggravating, even more so now that Lo’ak has made it clear that it’s you that Neteyam has a problem with.

Eventually, Spider and Lo’ak return to their conversation and you pull back, sitting silently between them. You pull your mask off for a brief moment to nibble at the meat. You’re a little irritated to admit that it’s delicious, and you sit back to lean into Spider’s side as you chew at it sullenly.

You’ve just begun to wonder if this night is a total bust altogether when you catch movement out of the corner of your eye. You raise your head, surprised to see the sight of Txetyo stepping towards you.

At your side, Spider and Lo’ak share a look before sitting up straighter.

“Tawtute,” Txetyo greets, nodding his head at you. He casts a single cautious look towards Lo’ak, before focusing on you properly.

He is keeping his voice purposely low so that no one else can hear, but you can’t bring yourself to care. This is the most public setting that any man has ever actually approached you in, and you can feel your expression brightening already.

“Hello.” You murmur, smiling sweetly at him. The last time you had seen him had been right after you had fled the tsahik’s hut, right after you had touched Neteyam– and no, you are not thinking about that right now.

“I would like to speak with you.” Txetyo murmurs, his voice low as he darts one more quick look between Lo’ak and Spider before settling on you again.

You brighten. You’re under no illusions about what Txetyo wants to ‘speak’ about, and you can safely assume that there will be little to no talking involved at all.

Yes. A distraction. This is exactly what you need.

“Sure.” You say, your lips curving up in a coy smile as you unfold yourself from where you’ve been sitting between Spider and Lo’ak.

“Uh–” Lo’ak starts to say, but you’re already beginning to step away with Txetyo, who’s beginning to lead you away from the gathering.

Maybe it’s a little impulsive, but you’re feeling reckless tonight. You can still feel Neteyam’s eyes boring into your back as you follow Txetyo towards the treeline, but you determinedly refuse to look. The celebration should be enough of a distraction to keep him busy and away from you for a while so you can finally get laid.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

You resist the urge to check the time on your battered old wristwatch as Txetyo slides down your body and repositions himself between your legs.

It feels like such a long time since you’ve hooked up successfully with anyone, with no interruptions, which is probably why you’ve been so affected by all-things-Neteyam recently. You were hoping that this encounter with Txetyo would restore you back to normal, to get rid of all the thoughts of Neteyam’s intense golden stare and pretty face and silken hot cock that are absolutely haunting you.

Yet, so far, the night’s been less than stellar. Txetyo had led you away from the celebrations, and you had to try hard to pretend like you don’t see him looking around compulsively to make sure that no one else has seen him leave with you. You had followed him into the trees, and had brightened up when he took your hand as soon as you were out of sight of the gathering.

Before you knew it, you were on your back on the forest floor with your panties around your ankles and your dress rucked up around your waist as Txetyo loomed over you on his hands and knees.

Txetyo is handsome, and he’s big and strong and he’s not opposed to hooking up with a Sky Person, but he’s not much for conversation and it seems like he’s only really got one thing on his mind. Apparently, your list of criteria might be a little lacking, because Txetyo’s also proving to be woefully bad at sex.

He spreads your legs and buries his face there. You blink at the canopy of glowing foliage overhead, grimacing. Honestly, you’d think that anything tongue-adjacent would feel good against a clit, but that’s just not true. Txetyo seems to have an affinity for moving his tongue rapidly and aimlessly against you, resulting in nothing better than the occasional teasing — definitely by accident.

You shift a little, try to angle your hips so that Txetyo’s mouth is over your clit, but he doesn’t seem to pick up on what you’re attempting to do at all. He just moves his mouth away, jabbing his tongue sort of aimlessly at your left labia.

“Could you– a bit higher–” You say, trying to shift again.

Txetyo’s mouth is rather sloppy against your pussy, but you’re not actually sure what he’s doing down there. He seems to be missing every possible nerve ending that might feel good, which is actually a little bit impressive.

You sigh, and just resign yourself to getting bad head. You let your head thunk back against the mossy forest floor, your legs hanging off of Txetyo’s big shoulders as he hunches between your thighs.

It’s almost imperceptible, but the quiet ‘crack’ of a twig breaking underfoot has your head snapping around in a panic.

Though night has fallen, it’s never truly dark on Pandora. The moss beneath you glows faintly, illuminating the outline of your body as you lay there with Txetyo getting busy between your legs. The trees and foliage around you are similarly phosphorescent, your surroundings all lit up in luminous vibrance.

Pandora’s bioluminescence is beautiful; it also means that you can see Neteyam’s figure all dimly lit up as he leans against the trunk of a tree about fifteen feet away.

Neteyam’s head is cocked to the side as he very obviously takes in the scene before him, his head turning to scan up and down your body. His little luminous freckles are lit up and glowing, and it’s impossible to miss the fact that his golden eyes are fixed on you, so intense that it’s almost breathtaking.

You almost scream. You mean to, but instead you moan, completely by accident, and Txetyo groans between your legs.

You don’t know what to do. You’re gaping at Neteyam, who seems all too content to just watch you, meanwhile Txetyo is totally oblivious. He’s still doing nothing right, but something deep inside you pulses.

Moments later, much to your horror, Neteyam takes a small, tentative step forward. He stands only a few feet away, behind Txetyo and in plain view of you.

Go away! You mouth, staring at him in disbelief.

Neteyam scratches his head, feigning confusion, and then he takes another step forward.

He doesn’t say anything. Why isn’t he saying anything? It’s not the first time he’s walked in on you in a situation like this, but usually by this point he’s started making snarky comments, which in turn makes the men you’re with scramble away from you like you’re diseased.

Your dress is pushed up clumsily around your stomach, exposing your pussy. There’s a man between your legs. You’re in the process of getting fucked and Neteyam is watching, goddammit.

It definitely, absolutely is not hot. And yet… your hips twitch, and your breath hitches.

“That feel good?” Txetyo asks, peering up to grin at you. Your attention is dragged back to him and you blink, dazed.

“Yeah,” You lie. “So good.”

“Mm,” Txetyo hums in satisfaction, slipping two fingers into you. “Good.”

You grunt at the stretch of his thick fingers, breathing deep. His mouth returns, his fingers jabbing kind of aimlessly, but it hardly matters. Your attention is locked on Neteyam, and it’s somehow making Txetyo’s useless attempts feel somewhat invigorating.

“Oh god,” You gasp. You’re so confused. Part of you is still waiting for Neteyam to speak up, to make a sound or to clear his throat. Something. But he just watches on, his pretty eyes dark.

“Mm, so pretty,” Txetyo murmurs from between your legs, still blissfully unaware of your onlooker. “Can I fuck you now, tawtute?”

Despite yourself, you find your eyes darting over to Neteyam. The stupid fucker is still looking, and when he sees that you’ve looked at him his lips quirk. Your whole body flushes deep with heat, and you try to pretend like you aren’t taking direction from him; usually, his appearance would have stopped this entire encounter dead in its tracks. But you’re continuing, and the fact is, you feel as though you need his permission or something.

“Y-yes.” You say.

Neteyam purses his lips, and raises his non-existent brows. Fuck, what does that mean?

“How would you like me to–”

“Just like this.” You blurt. It feels, for some reason, as though you can’t risk Txetyo noticing Neteyam. This is the only way you can see Neteyam without Txetyo noticing him, anyway.

Txetyo shuffles up your body, his bulk dwarfing you. There’s a moment’s struggle as he’s lining himself up against your pussy, groaning low as he pushes into you. The stretch is intense, and a little painful, as always; you never quite get used to the bone-deep satisfaction of that achey biting stretch in your cunt.

The stretch is satisfying, like it always is, but it’s not necessarily special. Txetyo is not as evenly proportioned as he looks, and his cock is smaller than other Na’vi you’ve been with. That is, mostly, a good thing; it means he can fuck you without lube, which you usually have to use to accommodate the shocking stretch of taking a Na’vi cock. It also means that you adjust to having him inside you a little quicker, your muscles easing gradually around the intrusion of his dick.

What is special (or at least unusual) is the fact that Neteyam is still watching. You stare back, maintaining a bewilderingly intense sort of eye contact. Txetyo groans as your cunt clenches down on him, and he lowers his face to bury it in your shoulder; like this, your view of Neteyam is completely unimpeded.

“Ah! You’re so tight,” Txetyo hisses. “This is okay?”

“Yes,” You gasp. “You can move.”

And by God, does Txetyo move. He jerks in and out of you with a complete lack of coordination. You bounce and flop against the luminescent bed of moss beneath you, occasionally throwing a hand over your head to try and anchor yourself to a tree root behind you, just to stay put for a second or two.

Neteyam is undoubtedly amused. He has a hand pressed to his mouth, and the skin around his eyes is scrunched up with mirth. At one point, when Txetyo starts humping into you so desperately that you grunt, wincing, Neteyam doubles over himself completely, laughing silently.

“Oh, oh,” Txetyo groans. “Tawtute, I am going to– you are so tight, so hot inside–"

You smack one of Txetyo’s hands away from where he’d been rubbing determinedly at the side of your vulva. You rub at your clit instead in fast, harsh circles, staring at Neteyam desperately. You don’t actually know what you’re looking for, or what you want him to do… but you want him to do something.

Neteyam reaches down to palm the bulge at the front of his tewng that you hadn’t even noticed until now, and you moan. You rub yourself even faster, attempting to angle your hips in any way that could increase your pleasure from Txetyo. It seems impossible, but you manage to catch one or two good strokes.

“Please, please—!” You gasp, eyes wide as you maintain eye contact with Neteyam over the wide bulk of Txetyo’s shoulders.

Neyeyam moans. It’s low, barely noticeable under Txetyo’s own strangled sounds, but you hear it clearly. Your body seizes up and then you’re coming, gasping high and quick as you drink Neteyam in with your eyes, frozen under Neteyam’s gaze in turn.

“Unnng,” Txetyo grunts as he comes too, thrusting into you through the last shocks of his orgasm.

You barely even blink, your eyes fixed wide open as you tremble, your breaths shaky. Neteyam doesn’t break eye contact either, watching you so damn closely that it feels bizarrely as though he’s watching a show you’re putting on, as though all of this is for him. The worst part is you feel as though you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t.

Neteyam silently turns and slips away through the foliage, and Txetyo flops onto the mossy ground beside you moments later, breathing heavily.

“That was good.” Txetyo sighs, his voice thick with satisfaction.

You don’t reply, still staring at the place Neteyam had disappeared into the trees. You’re partly unable to believe what just happened and partly turned on beyond belief, just knowing it did.

What the fuck?

[wonustars]

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖶𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖧𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖧𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽 (Teaser)

𖥔 pairing: kim mingyu x reader 𖥔 wordcount: ~15k+ (this teaser: 599) 𖥔 genre: fake marriage au!, fluff, angst, smut (18+ mdni)

𖥔 reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated ♡! tumblr is based on reblogs not likes, and they help writers like me to get better reach. thank you!

𖥔 summary: you and mingyu (a former mafia member and also your ex-fiancè's former best friend) are forced into witness protection. All you’ve been told is that you’re meant to act like a happily married couple. Pushed into a cookie cutter house, and a suburban neighbourhood far from the city, where people bring you baked goods on your first day and partake in small talk, it’s all foreign and new. There’s so many things you don’t know about him, but for a man who’s only known violence and all things illegal, he’s somehow the perfect house husband.

𖥔 tags: fake relationship/marriage!au, non-idol!au, mafia!au, afab!reader, norbert is readers cat (more tags when the fic is posted) 𖥔 release date: may 14 or 15, 2024 𖥔 author's note: if i end up posting after the predicted dates plz do not crucify me 🙏 ik a lot of people have been waiting for this one so i'd thought i post a teaser since i have 2-3 chapters left till its finally finished. thank you to all of those who sent in their ideas and to those who've shown so much interest in this story :") i really hope it lives up to your expectations!! see u soonest - anna ♡ !!!!

𖥔 keep reading

The first few days at the new house were uneventful and awkward to say the least.

Mingyu spent the majority of his time doing random housework, he thought that if he had to live here for a year, then he should at least try and make it as “homely" as possible. 

Many of the women in the neighbourhood had deemed Mingyu as their new eye-candy. Despite the fact that he wore his pink shibu inu apron while tending to the garden at the front of the house. They would especially make sure to take multiple laps around the block during their group walks, drooling over his toned muscles as he began to plant an array of flowers on the lawn. 

Mingyu isn’t very observant when it comes to people finding him attractive, believe it or not. He automatically assumes that the wives of Bridgewater just wanted to get to know the new couple that just moved in. 

“What a beautiful garden you have!” one of the wives called out from the sidewalk, her eyes glinting with appeal. 

“Thank you, It’s not done just yet, but I think we’re finally getting somewhere,” Mingyu smiles bashfully. 

“Of course dear. You know if you’re ever free you should come and take a look at my garden,” another lady giggles, her innuendo flying right over Mingyu’s head.

The group of fourty plus year old women all giggle like school girls as they watch his face turn red with flattery. Mingyu scratches the back of his head awkwardly as they bid him good-bye, curious as to what they group of women thought was so funny about him taking a look at their gardens. It’s all just a bunch of flowers isn’t it? 

The sound of your car’s engine brings Mingyu out of his thoughts, his gardening tools forgotten by the piles of dirt he left. You lug Nortbert’s carrier as you walk into the house, acknowledging his presence with a small nod. His pink aprons raises a few questions in your head, but you decide not to comment on it. 

“Oh hey you’re back, is he ok?” Mingyu asks, motioning to the carrier you hold in your hand. 

Halting your steps, your eyes widen as you realize that he’s talking to you, there wasn’t much conversation between the two of you since you’ve moved in. so you found it a little surprising that he’s asking about Norbert, the cat who tends to show lots of aggression towards him. 

“Morning. He’s ok, I just took him for his check up at the vet,” you shrug before entering the house. 

You leave the conversation there. There wasn’t much else to say anyways, and you had a lot of work to get to before the end of the day. If Mingyu feels a little bit ignored by your actions, he doesn’t make it noticeable, going back to working on his garden. 

From across the yard, neither you of Mingyu notice Seungkwan’s looming figure as he and Vernon enjoy the Friday morning sun. He watches the two of you from his porch with a quirked eyebrow. They’re awfully awkward for newly weds, he thinks to himself. 

“Nonie, don’t you think they’re a little weird?” Seungkwan nudges his boyfriend, who’s mumbling to himself while Vernon reads his book. 

Vernon quirks up, moving his headphones a little to hear what his boyfriend has to say, “huh? Sorry I was reading, what’d you say?” 

“Nothing, go back to your book love,” Seungkwan mumbles, his eyes still darting back and forth from your descending figure and Mingyu, his suspicions spiking once more.

[undercoverpena]

you should be my only girl

joel miller x f!reader

gif credit to @perotovar

summary: in many ways, Joel is aware that you’re too good, too lovely. it has become the reason why he wants to give you nothing but pleasure, in the hope it’ll be enough to smother the pain he knows he must inflict.

word count: 1.6k warnings: smut in the back of a car from joel - cunnilingus, fingering. dedication: happy birthday to the wonderful @thetriumphantpanda - i hope joel remembering makes you smile. an: huge thank you to @swiftispunk for giving me the boost to post and to @perotovar for letting me use their beautiful gif, thank you so much!

You’re like a drug. 

More addicting than the little out-of-date off-white pills that douse pain, memories and more. Woven deep within him; infused inside his muscles and bones. 

One day, never there, and the next, you’re hacking away, cutting through him, digging out a space and sitting yourself inside it. Waiting, tapping—whispering like a siren until his resolve cracks and his palms are on either side of your face, kissing you gently. Far more gently than he assumes this new world allows, but he does so all the same. 

Because you’re treasure, a spot marked X that he found without a map. He had tried to fight falling for you, but here he is all the same—having jumped and found he hadn’t met an untimely end. 

In many ways, Joel is aware that you’re too good, too lovely. You’re a heart of gold and a fist of fury; you’re dirt-covered, scarlet-soaked, yet you’re also the brightest, shiniest thing he’s had in a long time. 

Your tongue may be laced with poison, your exterior hardened with the current times, but he sees the embers of the person that once was. The one that appears when the sun sets and rain peppers against the glass of his place. 

You see him, and he sees you. 

The loss you both carry suddenly lightened, one of them lifting it for the other on the more challenging days. No questions asked, just a nod, an understanding. 

Most mornings, when he wakes and your arm is around his waist, Joel has to pinch himself. His hand sliding over yours, fingers tracing your knuckles—doing an array of shapes until he hears your breathing change. It’s only ever then that he turns to face you, to watch in wonder as your lashes flutter and bask him in sunlight and care. 

Today, Joel finds he has to pinch himself differently when he has you like this. The truck door yanked open, you placing yourself on the backseat of it. The vehicle itself is all covered in wilted vines and decades of dust, not that either of you care. You’re atop cracked leather, engulfed in fusty air that’s desperate to escape and be renewed, but you just look at him dutifully. 

Having followed his instruction, his whisper as the two of you admired your handiworks. 

In general, you make him soft, but you also make him hard. The latter more present currently as his hands spread your thighs, hooking around them to pull you to the edge of the seat—perched, waiting, core glistening with want as your jeans remain abandoned at his feet. His finger brushes over the little thin fabric stretched beyond belief at your ankles—the sun's glow piercing through the dirt-covered sunroom, casting you in enough of a sheen to highlight the muck and sweat on your collarbone and forehead. 

But you’re still a vision. 

It’s why he likes having you like this, lay out for him—all prettiness in a sea of ruin. 

Words that are so similar fall easily from his mouth before he licks a stripe. 

Usually, he’d take his time and earn himself a couple of O’s before he cashes in on his own. Today, he’s more satisfied with this, giving you your reward, giving you all he has in him as his muscles groan from fighting.  

You seem to appreciate it. Purposefully arching your hips into his mouth, his tongue sliding deeper. Joel feels your walls tighten as he tries to go deeper—as he tries to bury himself inside of you, in the same way you have him. 

Then, it’s his turn to moan. Your fingers knotting in his hair, a feeling he relishes, yearns for as your nails scrape against his scalp. 

It wasn’t always like this with you. The two of you barely let the other in on anything outside the four walls the two of you had made liveable. It took time, weeks, months, half a year before things moved from being the right person at the right time, to just needing the other  

Now, he knows you’re his, and he is yours. It’s about as committed as things go when structure and normalcy have withered to dust. 

All he knows is he cares. It thrums, hammers against his bones when his voice couldn’t shout in time—watching in pained horror as your body was speared to the floor. His own fight began, unable to get to you, the back of his mind screaming, drumming its fists against his skull as a jaw cracked, and the butt of his gun met an oesophagus. 

His breathing laboured, difficult—strained. Catching a glimpse between his brawl to see you get the upper hand on the raider twice your size. Your body thrown behind your fist, the sound reverbing through the air as Joel smirked to himself. 

It grew larger when he heard the knife sink into the person’s spluttered hisses, coating your thighs in ichor, staining them cherry-red. 

He’d thought of nothing more than the mattress at the QZ—of his hand softly sliding your trousers from your skin. How he likes to kiss the pulse of your neck and feel your hands grasp his side. He imagined sinking his cock into you, inch by inch—the thought of your legs around him, breasts spilling out as he sliced you free from all the constraints that hid you from him. 

It’s those thoughts as to why he hadn’t been able to wait. A need to remind himself of how alive you are, to hear it, see it, taste it. 

It’s why he had you moaning—a sinful sound that almost reminds him of music. Your fingers splayed over the back of the seat, swiping dust away with your hopelessness as he continues to lap at your folds, keeping your legs parted with his hands as his thumb (he suspects and rather hopes) bruises your skin, leaving reminders. 

Joel likes the evidence that he touched heaven and left a mark that couldn’t be so easily wiped. That it proves you’ve chosen him, because he knows he’s done things, horrid things. 

Grief had spread its tendrils through him the same way the rot had ripped through cities. You hadn’t cared, not when you met or after. You never asked a thing—never wanted more than he could give. 

It’s why he liked you, why he felt seen. 

Boring your eyes into him, making him feel seen. Making him feel protective—awakening a dormant creature that’s now becoming a feral monster. 

It became the reason why he wanted to give you nothing but pleasure, in the hope it’ll be enough to smother the pain he knows he must inflict. Because he cares, but not in the way you deserve. He won’t find a flower on the walk through a once-thriving city and pluck it for you; he won’t dance with you if music ever reaches their ears.

But you deserve that. A different life robbed from you, a happy ever after ripped from grip, even more so the moment you chose him. 

It’s why he digs his hands into the back of your thighs, pulling you closer as he flattens his tongue against your core. Giving you something he can provide with ease, pleasure, care, comfort. 

You moan at it. All punchy, full of hoarseness as his name joins it. A particularly needier yank of his hair accompanies it as he swirls the tip of his tongue over your swollen nub, before he latches his mouth back over you. Not wanting to leave you on the edge, because Joel never does. His fingers slide into your fluttering hole, feeling your hips buck, watching your eyes clench shut. 

Because giving is practically all he has to offer. 

He knows how your body hums before your throat sings—the next moan spreading up from someplace deeper, born from depth, as it rips out of you and sprays itself around the truck as he smirks. 

He can’t help it. 

You’re everything: a goddess, a work of art, his. 

You’re his. 

It surges him on, devouring you, lapping up everything you’ll give him as his cheeks flush with warmth and his zipper cuts into his hardened cock. 

Because you’re so close. He can feel it, hear it, taste it. 

It rushes through you, snapping and crashing—all Joel, fuck and a sea of other noises he craves. 

He doesn’t stop, not immediately. 

Whispering muted words against you as he makes his movements more gentle, easing you back to the present, your hips finding purchase back on the leather of the abandoned truck. His tongue moves from you before his fingers, mouth wrapping around his digits as you watch, hunger still simmering in the ocean of your eyes—chest rising and falling, beads of sweat falling down the swell of your jaw and neck. 

Joel doesn’t move from his position, not even as your breathing returns. The two of you eyeing up the other, him all the more tempted to tell you to move up so he can get in the back, too.

”Do I ask what that was for?” 

His lips slide into a smile, a foreign one—one that makes his cheeks crack from how long it’s been since he’s let it show—as his hand moves to his jeans, readjusting for comfort. 

“Happy birthday.” 

You blink, an array of emotions swirling in your deceptively deep eyes, before whispering: you remembered?

His hands help guide your underwear back up your legs, reaching down to get your jeans, shaking the ground from them. 

Only then does Joel realise something else is like a drug, too. That look. The one full of surprise, shock, and amazement, still present on your face. Placed there by him, a remembrance from him you never asked for, never demanded. Because of that, he craves putting that look on your face again. And again. 

Some part of him realising, before the rest of him, that’s how moving on begins, what really falling for someone looks like. 

But as he helps you out of the vehicle, holding the jeans for you to take—deciding he’ll deal with all of that another day. 

[murdrdocs]

summer fling saw your best side w/ LUKE CASTELLAN

explicit sexual content; mutual masturbation, fem!reader, southern!luke; mentions of anal fingering MDNI 18+ title from ii hands ii heaven by beyonce

you're wearing nothing when you wake up. your skin, damp and sticky in the way that only sweat can cause, is bare as it presses up against the thin sheet of your bed. you're bleary as you attempt to gain your bearings, but through blurred vision and half-open eyes, you notice your duvet just barely hanging on your bed. just sight of it is a threat to your comfortability. just knowing it's presence is there threatens you with heat you couldn't handle. as if he could sense your negative feelings towards the comforter, luke stretches a limb out and his foot knocks the rest of the bedding onto the floor.

his act of heroism also makes you aware of his presence once more. you may be hot, and you might not want anything touching you while you work to cool off, but you can't control yourself when you roll over and press your cheek into luke's back.

he shifts, the muscles in his back rolling under your skin. he hums, and you hum too.

the sheet now loosely hanging off of your body hangs low on luke's waist. you can see the twin set of dimples in his lower back, and where that tan of his stops just there. if he shifts even a bit more, you would see his ass, too. it's not a sight you're unwilling to be graced with.

"are you awake?" you ask him in a gentle whisper. it takes a second, but luke inhales, long and deep, and then his affirmative hum blends with his breath.

he starts to shift and you know it's your cue to lift yourself enough to let him turn over. when he does, he stares at you with half-open eyes, too. his lips are a little chapped, so he licks over them with a quick flick of his tongue. you let your gaze wander down, starting from the end of the pretty scar on his cheek, going down to where his usually posed and taunt abdomen is relaxed for once, and landing on where the sheets have shifted down to allow luke's happy trail to blend into the newly trimmed thatch of pubic hair that sits right above the base of his cock. which is, thankfully, covered.

luke clearly notices your staring, you know he does. but he doesn't say anything, at least not yet. his hand lifts to play with your hair, left uncovered during your impromptu nap, as he lets you ogle. you take him in, appreciating his greek roots as you sincerely believe they have delivered a sculpture of a demigod as your ... well the labels are unspecified.

you know you just had him. before you slipped off into a nap induced by post-sex fatigue and the gentle air trickling down onto your bodies from your ceiling fan, luke fucked you. he fucked you good, exactly how you liked until you were thankful you had the place to yourselves . but with luke, you had a tendency to be insatiable. it was hard not to be when he looked like that, laying in your bed, under your sheets, and playing with your hair.

when you are his, even if only for the next few weeks, it was impossible not to want him as often as you could get him.

eventually, luke's ego has to shine through.

"do you want something or...?" 

you scoff and roll your eyes. "don't rush me," you chastise, for you really just want to sit there and admire him, even if it is an act of cowardice. but luke has been encouraging you to be bolder lately. he's been telling you that you have him, and he wants you to have him, and he really wouldn't be upset if you wanted to fuck him ten times a day.

not knowing what else to say, without it being a bit mean or awkward at least, you say nothing. instead, you sit up on your heels and lean down to press your lips to his. instantly, having more skin showing on your back makes you feel a little colder, but your skin starts to heat up when luke places his hand on your lower back.

his touch is light and almost innocent. almost. his fingertips trail along your spine, up and down, up and down, and each time they dip deeper, and deeper. lower and lower until they’re right above your ass, nearly slipping into the crack. there is really no room for you to judge, not when the hand you had on luke’s abdomen for stability has crept down until you have your palm resting against luke’s happy trail and your fingertips entering the plane of pubic hair. 

you both complete your journeys at the same time. your hand sinks down to meet luke’s dick at the same time that he reaches between your ass to find your cunt. there is a second in luke’s searching where his fingertips nudge your asshole, and you have a moment there where you remember luke’s expressed desire to venture into different territories, to explore places unexplored by both of you. and there, in that brief moment, you consider it. 

but there isn’t much more room for consideration whenever luke presses his fingers against your labia, spreads it apart, and then brings his fingertips to your clit. 

his other hand cups your face, keeping you close to him and in his control as your mouth parts with a gentle gasp, nothing more than a soft inhale as luke begins to circle your clit. you let yourself enjoy it for a while, until your cunt begins to leak, and only then do you snap out of your stupor and spit in your hand, using the slick to circle luke’s tip and spread it down his shaft. 

he’s twice as sensitive as you, if even possible. he shudders when you complete one pass, down and then up again. he winces when your thumb presses into his slit and you apply just enough pressure. 

just as you did, luke lets himself relax in the feeling for a while. he watches you lean over and dribble spit straight from the source onto his cock for you to use. similarly, your cunt leaks between your legs in a steady flow, resembling water traveling via a spile. luke adjusts his grip to better please you by sliding his hand down your torso and between your thighs. 

he keeps his eyes on your hand, though. he doesn’t need to see your pretty pussy blooming around his fingers to know where to dip his fingers and where to glide them. it comes easy when he circles your clit and slides down just enough to that tiny area that makes your back curve. and sure enough, your hand stops stroking him for just a second as your back curves inward and you gasp. 

he lets his gaze deviate then, lifting his eyes just in time to see your eyes shutting and your eyebrows twitching as they briefly push together. you’re so pretty. 

as soon as your eyes are open again, you’re staring down at him, and you two sit like that for nearly a minute, stroking the other languidly without much hurrying to your movements. the moment is broken by the desperate way you push your lips to luke’s. 

you’re so close to him that your nipples press against his chest and your tits are squished between both of your bodies. you kiss him fervently, as if you’re running out of time quicker than you can make up for it. luke attempts to counteract your rushing. his efforts create a messy dance between you both, one following a tempo that doesn’t necessarily match the other. you only become synchronized once more when luke submits to you, and you submit to him, both of you following the other until you meet in the middle with a pace that represents both of your wants. your never ending need to kiss luke with as much love and appreciation as you possibly could and luke’s endless desire to kiss you like he has all of the time in the world. but the needs must manifest elsewhere, and they travel down to your hands. 

luke first slinks one finger into your heat, with a second one quickly following, and you begin to fist his cock faster, adding a twist to your hand when you reach the top. 

this dance comes naturally, it’s equal and known well by both of you in ways that only exist from copious amounts of practice. it’s something that stems from knowing each other in ways that span years. 

at the end of the day, it’s this knowledge for the other, and your equal desire, that has luke spilling onto your hand and his stomach, and you releasing around luke’s fingers.

[iliketangerines]

I love your writing so much- like literally the first thing I do in the mornings is check if you’ve posted 🩵

Also here to request- I had an idea of maybe the Earthrealm boys ((like liu kang, Raiden, Kung Lao, Johnny, Kenshi, Tomas, bi-han, and kuai)) all go to a hot springs and invite reader ((it can be male or female)) and they all thought it would going to be segregated by gender but it’s actually like all genders bathe together in the springs- so it’s just a bunch of horny ass guys and reader who’s just a small petite person ((with a busty chest and thick ass thighs 😍))

what i want

a/n: mmmmm, save me earthrealm defenders, save me, save me earthrealm defenders

pairing: liu kang, raiden, kung lao, johnny cage, kenshi takahashi, bi han, kuai liang, tomas x gn!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), breeding kink, nipple play, pregnancy kink, degradation kink, blowjobs, slight bondage, electrostim, overstimulation

the Earthrealm champions settled into the springs, groaning as the warmth enveloped their muscles and surrounded their senses

Kung Lao and Johnny were in the corner talking about something ridiculous, and Kenshi shoots them a glare for splashing the water as Raiden watches on in amusement

Tomas, Kuai Liang, and Bi Han sat in the other corner, simply basking in the heat and taking a break having to lead the Lin Kuei

Liu Kang sat alone as he observed his champions, and he sighed as he sunk a little further into the water, closing his eyes and humming as he relaxed

none of them had any duties for the day and had decided to pamper themselves for the time being, and it was proving a wonderful decision

Liu Kang opens his eyes at the sound of someone entering the hotspring, and he turns around to find you wrapped in a white towel

the hot springs go quiet as you enter and give out an apology about how you couldn’t find the location and that you got turned around

you slip off your towel and fold it neatly before stepping into the springs, giving them a view of your plush chest and toned legs

your stomach slightly bulges out, and Liu Kang wants to do nothing more than grip onto the soft flesh and pepper kisses onto it

the god smiles as you settle in the water right next to him, and he feels a flush creep up on his face when you let out an appreciative moan at the heat

you talk Liu Kang’s ear off about something, but he can’t really hear you, not with the way he can still see your chest and legs submerged in the water

and your skin is unmarked, only a few minor scars littering here and there as a testament to your training, and Liu Kang wants to kiss and suck hickeys into your skin

he wants to see your skin marked in his bitemarks and know that he was the one who did that

he wants to grab onto your hips and dig his fingertips in to see bruises bloom and wants you to know that he had put them there

he can imagine how you’d sound, high-pitched and whiny as you beg him to cum, and Liu Kang hopes that the red flush on his body can be passed as the hot springs

in the corner, Kung Lao and Johnny look over at you and quiet their conversation to admire your body and all its toned muscle

your neck is bare and soft, and they want to sink their teeth into the flesh and show to the world that you are spoken for

your legs are plush and toned, and Johnny wants nothing more than to have them squeezed around his head

he wants to taste you, please you, watch you squirm as your hand grips into his hair, and you let out pitiful whines as your hips buck into his face

Kung Lao wants to grab your chest, pinch and roll the nipples between his fingers and listen to you yelp as he nips at your chest and sucks on your chest

he wants to fuck you, breed you with his heirs and watch your stomach round out

he wants to watch the cum leak out of your abused hole and them push it back in with his fingers as you whine from the overstimulation

Kenshi and Raiden can’t help themselves from having their eyes roam over you as well

Raiden wants to have you on top of him, riding him as he holds onto your waist and bounces you on his thick cock

he thinks you’d look so pretty all  fucked-out and drooling as you lose your senses when he shocks your most sensitive parts with electricity

he wants to have you desperate for him as you blabber out incoherent nonsense as he fucks up into you and teases you with his fingers

Kenshi bites his lip as he imagines how you’d look on your knees, plush lips wrapped around his cock as you bob your head up and down

he’d grip onto your hair and move you up and down when you get too slow, and he wants to push your face down until your nose buries into his pelvis

he wants to watch tears stream down your face as you gag and moan around his cock, and he wants to fuck into your face and watch your eyes go glassy

you’d swallow his come like a good whore, and he’d drag you up and kiss you as he teases you with your fingers

Bi Han, Kuai Liang, and Tomas sit in the corner and watch Liu Kang in jealousy as you talk to Liu Kang about some new project you’re working on

Bi Han wants to drag you away from the god and sit you in his lap, hook your legs over his and spread you so that he can show everyone how he fucks you well

he wants to wrap a hand around your throat and use his other to pinch and tease your nipples

you’d be such a desperate whore, begging to cum as he denies you your release over and over again

he’d cum inside of you over and over again, using you as a cumdump, until there’s a slight bump in your stomach

he’d keep you plugged up with his cum until it takes, and he wants to see you round with his child as he fucks into you

Bi Han think your chest would look pretty all swollen with milk, and he wants to see the milk pearl on your nipples and suck on them as you moan in pleasure

Kuai Liang is thinking no better than Bi Han

he wants to drag you out of of the hotsprings and have you on your knees and tie your hands behind your back as he fucks into you

he'd smack your ass and watch it redden underneath his large hand, and you’d look so pretty drooling and crying as he fucks you

you’d sound so pretty as you cum over and over again, whining that you can’t cum anymore, that it’s too much, but he’d keep fucking you, telling you that pretty little sluts don’t get to decide whether or not they get to cum or not

Tomas squirms in his spot, and he imagines kissing along your scars, worshiping you and your body as you whine and moan for him to do more

he wants to please you, nip at your soft plush thighs and listen to you yelp and have you bury your fingers in his hair

he’d fuck into you slow and deep, making sure to hit all the deepest parts of you as he lavishes you with kisses

he wants to have you fucked-out and cockdrunk as he watches you whine and beg for him to go faster, to please make you cum

he’d give in, but only after he’s had his fun teasing you with his slow thrusts, cock stretching you out deliciously

all of them are snapped out of their stupors when a ringing echoes through the air, and you jump out of the water and grab onto your phone

you answer the call, and the defenders can only stare as the water droplets trail down your soft skin, down your chest, down in between your legs

you clumsily wrap a towel around you with one hand as you wave goodbye to them and thank them for inviting you before walking away

none of them can relax once you’ve left

all they want to do is fuck you

[comet-forgot-you]

Hii girlie, I wanted to thank you for feeding us every day🙏🙏 your fics are so good and I really appreciate that you make effort to post everyday(but don't overwork yourself!). I'd also like to ask if you could write anything for Sam Carpenter?? Thank you bb, ur awesome!!💖💖

hurry

sam carpenter x reader

summary: the drummer of your brother's band is hot.

warnings: 18+ pls, smut, thigh grinding, mentions of previous events, fingering, marking, biting (just like once), almost caught but def not, i think thats all lmk if theres more. 

a/n: HEY GUYS DID U MISS ME??? enjoy this one in a million occasion of me writing for someone other than a mikey madison character😱😱 this is my first time writing for sam dont bully me im just a girl. do not repost for any reason.

your brother and his stupid band. the same one that gathered in the garage every saturday and played the same music every time. you usually never minded the music, but you were frustrated. the house was hot, the air conditioner was being worked on and the heat was really starting to get to you.

you were laid on the couch in the living room, stripped down to your sportsbra and shorts hours ago, trying your best to cool yourself down. the glass doors leading to your backyard were wide open, a small breeze flowing in. you didn't understand how they did it. how they practiced in the small, hot garage. it was much hotter in there than it was in the house, opening the garage door hardly helped cool it down.

the sound of the music stopped and a few minutes passed before the door leading to the garage opens and your brother walks out. you sit up slightly, looking over at him as he grabs his keys.

"where you goin'?" you ask, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"to get a fan, it's hot as fuck in that garage," you brother mumbles, walking back to the garage. "why, need somethin'?" you shake your head, falling back onto the couch. the door closes and you let out a sigh of relief at the quiet house.

the sound of drums interrupt the silence and you can’t help the giddy feeling that washes over you. sam was still here, of course she was. you pull yourself off of the couch and walked towards the garage, eyes landing on her the second you opened the door.

fuck.

she was hot, you knew it, she knew it, but right now? with the way sweat coated her body, her arms on display due to the sleeveless shirt she wore? it forced a wave of heat to pulse through you. her muscles flexed with every beat of the drum, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. she looks up at you, slowly coming to a stop. she pries a headphone out, nodding up at you. "hey," she says loudly. she cringes at the volume of her voice, “sorry, what’s up?”

a smile tugs at your lips. "hey, sam. didn't want to go with my brother?" you ask, stepping into the garage. sam shakes her head, grabbing the almost empty bottle of water sat next to the bass drum.

"nah, already hot as it is, didn't want to sit shoulder to shoulder in his small ass car with all of em'." she pulls her headphone case out, taking her other headphone out before stuffing it back into her pocket. you could feels sam’s eyes on you as you move to stand next to her, head tilting slightly as you look over the drums.

"want me to teach you how to play?" she asks. you down at her, biting the inside of your lip.

"sure," you mumble, taking the sticks she offered you. you stood awkwardly next to her, waiting for her to get up, but her hands find their way around your hips, pulling you to sit down on her lap. she holds onto the backs of your hands, moving them to beat against the drums softly.

her breath is hot against your neck as she whispers instructions. you try to listen, you really do, but the way her hands hold onto you, the way you can feel her chest flush against your back, it was so fucking distracting.

sam shows you how to play a small piece before she lets go of your hands completely. you miss it almost immediately. she bounces her leg slightly in an attempt to get you to repeat the motions she had just showed you, but the feeling of her thigh pressing into your clothed cunt has you surpressing a whine. you shakily reach out to beat against the drums, repeating what sam had just showed you.

"yeah, just like that," she mumbles. she holds onto your hips, the feeling driving you insane. her leg bounces against your cunt so nicely with every beat against the bass drum. you're overwhelmed, the feeling of her pressed against you, the way she unknowingly pressed into your cunt so perfectly, it was all so much and so so fucking good.

"fuck," you let out a quiet whine as sam's leg grinds against your cunt again. you lean back against the girl, drum sticks gripped tightly in your hands, your head resting on her shoulder. sam's arms move to wrap around your waist, a fake look of worry plastered on her face.

"you okay?" she asks.

you roll your hips against her thigh. "don't act innocent, sammy," you whine. sam traces her fingers across the exposed skin of your stomach. “you know what you’re doin’," you mumble. sam smiles, finger dipping into your waistband before pulling it back to let it smack against your skin. you arch into her touch, drumsticks falling to the ground.

“can’t help it, you look so pretty.” you pry her hands from around your waist before turning in her lap. a small smile paints her lips as she looks up at you, eyes blown with lust. her hands find their place on your hips again, yours holding her shoulders for support.

seconds pass before your lips are pressed against each other, sam guiding your hips to grind down on her thigh. quiet moans fall from your lips and sam’s quick to take advantage, pushing her tongue into your mouth. your hands tangle into her hair, tugging lightly to separate the two of you.

“need y’so bad, sam,” you mumble against the skin of her jaw. sam’s grip on your hips tightens ever so slightly when you suck a deep mark in her neck.

“your brothers gonna see that,” she mumbles in, pushing her hand into your shorts. “he probably saw the last ones, too,” you groan, memories of sam’s head buried between your thighs flashing through your head.

“shut up,” you whine, pulling away from her ever so slightly. “living room, need you so bad, please?” sam lets out a quiet groan, nodding her head. you smile, taking her hand into yours as you pull her into the cooler house.

you can barely make it to the couch, sam’s hands wandering all over your body. you push the brunette onto the couch, straddling her lap almost immediately. sam’s lips trails up and down your neck, pausing every once in a while to suck marks into your skin. she pushes a hand into your shorts and you quick to grind down against it, needy moans falling from your lips.

sam rubs your clothed clit, “just fuck me already, sammy, need it.” sam pulls your underwear to the side, swiping a finger through your soaked folds.

“fuck,” she groans. her hand holding your hip moving to wrap around your waist. “so wet, all for me?” you nod frantically, needy moans falling from your lips when sam prods your entrance with her fingers.

“yeah, all for you, promise. js’,” you pause for a moment, bucking your hips into her hand, “please.”

sam sinks two fingers into your cunt, curling them slowly, before pulling out completely, spreading your wetness to your clit. you let out quiet whimpers at the stimulation, her fingers gently teasing your pulsing clit. you call her name in a quiet whisper. its a plead you can’t help but let out. her actions send waves of heat surging throughout your body.

“hmm?” she hums against the skin of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer to her as her fingers sink back into your cunt. she’s gentle despite the aggression she took out on her drums mere minutes before.

she thrusts her fingers into you rhythmically, curling them to hit the spot that has you biting your lip to suppress the noises that threaten to slip out. sam’s free hand moves to cradle your haw, thumb tugging at your lip. she tsks, “none of that, you wanted me, let me hear you.” the demanding tone in her voice draws a whine from you. sam’s thumb grazes your clit and your hips jerk at the feeling.

its not long before you’re teetering on the edge of your orgasm, sam’s thumb rubbing tight circles around your clit, finger’s pumping in and out of your dripping cunt so deliciously. the sound of your brother’s car has you whining against her neck, “better hurry up before they come in. wouldn’t want them seein’, hmm?” you let out a loud moan, biting her shoulder in an attempt to keep yourself quiet. sam lets out a hiss at the feeling. “unless thats what you wanted. wanted em’ to see you all slutted out for me.”

“no! no, please, fuck, no don’t want em’,” your sentence is cut off when sam’s fingers curl into you.

“come on then, cum for me,” she mumbles. your orgasm hits you seconds later, loud moans muffled in her neck. same pulls out of you, bring her fingers up to her mouth and licking them clean. the motion has you stifling a moan that threatens to escape. the sound of the large garage door opening has you pushing yourself off of sam’s lap, still struggling to catch your breath.

“go,” you mumble, cheeks warm from your previous activities. sam doesn’t move, her lips twitched up into a teasing smirk.

“why? don’t want em’ to see how much of a slut you are for me?” you roll your eyes, heat building in your core.

“shut up, sam. go.” sam smiles, pushing herself off of the couch.

“same time next week?” she jokes, walking back to the garage. you roll your eyes at her, a soft smile etching its way onto your lips.

“idiot,” you mumble beneath your breath.

reblogs much appreciated :D

[lehguru]

MUSCLE MUSCLE! + ONE PIECE MEN

one piece men having a muscular fem!s/o feat. monkey d. luffy, roronoa zoro, trafalgar d. water law, sanji, donquixote rosinante, buggy the clown

info: again FEM!READER , this is so self indulgent its embarrassing; not proofread

luffy wouldn't mind you having muscles. he thinks that's something normal – just like some women can be skinny or chubby, others can be muscular. he would love to compare his biceps to yours if you love to flex, he takes it as a fun playful thing. he would adore to train with you, it gives him a big motivation; not only because it's someone as strong as him training, but also because he would adore to share earbuds with you and do silly dances to make you laugh between your sets.

zoro thinks the way you managed to build up your muscles is amazing. he often talks to you about your training techniques and diet; you're also one of the few – three – people he invites to workout with him. if you spot him during bench presses, he always puts a higher weight than he would while alone – that's his way to show that he trusts you and your strength. he will often stare at your body at the gym, but it's never in a creepy way, he just wants to make sure you're okay while doing your exercises (and he secretly enjoys to see your muscles working).

law is constantly wanting to rip his hair off with worry for you. he thinks your psyche is nice and he have no problem with it, his fears lie on your diet and your bones/joints. he fears that you might get an injury and you're not keeping a healthy fat percentage; even if you reassure him and say everything is fine, he always show up with food at your place. if he's not in that worried state, he loves to feel your muscles while you hug him (he has a skinnier build, so he enjoys the contrast). his favorite thing ever is to feel your arms around his head while he lays on your stomach.

sanji would love your body no matter what, but there's something about you being able to lift him up – and even throw him around if you want to – that drives him insane. if you post a picture with any of your muscles flexed, you will get a dozen of comments from him. if you take him to the gym to train with you, he will praise you and won't even train so he can "appreciate and help a goddess like you". he begged you for a long time to give him a headlock so he could take a picture and make it his profile picture in every single social media he have (and the background on his phone).

corazón always get shy whenever he looks at any of your muscles – you often notice it, because his cheeks become a nice shade of pink. at first you thought he didn't like you being muscular, but quite the opposite. unlike his brother, he doesn't build up muscles that easily (they have the same genetics, but he always says he was born to be the skinny brother), so you, the love of his life, being muscular? he is over the moon. if he gets your consent to do it, his hands will be all over you. if you need a massage, he's there. if it's just resting on your thigh or your back during a cuddle session, he's happy. he loves your muscles a lot, not more than he loves you.

buggy thinks you're one of the coolest people because of your muscles. he always wanted to be bigger and scarier, but his muscles always seemed to grow on his legs and stomach only, so if you are well-balanced on all your body, he is smitten. he loves to lay on any part of your body, giggling to himself if he thinks about doing that when you two are apart. he is constantly praising you, but, unlike sanji, they come in a more "if you were the queen, i wouldn't mind being the jester" way. he wouldn't mind tagging along with you to the gym, but he would spend more time glaring at any other men that looks your way than actually training.

2023 © content belongs to lehguru, but the characters used in them belong to their respective creators!!

[gurugirl]

ex-boyfriend's dad!harry | teaser

This has been in the works for a good while now babes! I just posted part 1 on Patreon but this will be coming here for tumblr at a later later date (no idea when but don't expect it too soon). Just wanted to share with y'all what's happening and to give you an update since some of you asked when it was coming.

Enjoy this 2.749 word teaser below!

xoxo

You didn’t know what had gotten into you. Skinny dipping in the pool at midnight under the stars. Well, you did know, actually. Two bottles of Italian red wine. That and your boyfriend’s dad, Harry, encouraging you. You were both at least two bottles in.

You’d been dating Tyler for nearly two years, and so Harry told Tyler to invite you to come along to their yearly vacation in Lombardy, Italy. The Style’s family owned a small villa in the hills and Harry made it a point to take a couple of weeks there every year.

So you were honored and more than excited when he invited you. Of course, you weren’t going to miss it.

And now you’d been in Lombardy for 5 days and Tyler went to bed a little early on this particular evening while you and his dad stayed outside on the patio overlooking the lighted pool drinking bottles of wine and talking about relationship things that may or may not have ebbed into very slightly inappropriate territory. But you’d think about all that later on.

Because here you were swimming buck naked with your boyfriend’s very handsome dad. You didn’t peek (not really) when he dove in with a big, dimpled smile after you slid in quickly with a squeal and he laughed with his back turned and a promise he wouldn’t look.

Because here you were taking another pour of wine with him and clinking glasses while you laughed. Wearing nothing. With your boyfriend’s very very handsome dad.

Of course, it was difficult to see fully what was going on under the reflection of the water. But you did notice a few things about Harry. About your boyfriend’s dad. One was that he had way more tattoos than you originally realized. You knew he had tattoos on his arms and you’d seen peeks on his chest before. But with him completely naked you saw a lot more. And you could tell he had a tattoo on his left thigh – something large. There were also tattoos on his hips, both sides. But more than that, you couldn’t help to notice the dark patch at his crotch and the floating thing attached to said dark patch, which you were sure was his dick. Obviously.

But you didn’t stare too hard. Well, you tried not to look anyway.

You tried keeping your tits under the surface of the water as well but every time you bounced to get toward the edge of the pool they did make an appearance. You crossed your arm over your nipples as you reached for your glass and Harry laughed.

“I’m not looking. I swear!” He raised his arms and grinned.

“I mean it’s just in case,” you giggled before you took a big gulp from your glass.

Harry was swimming toward the far end of the pool away from you, his back muscles flexing with each stroke. The lights in the pool were illuminating every one of his movements, and yours too, you were sure, as you placed the glass down and plunged under the surface of the water to swim toward him.

It felt so freeing and light to swim naked. You’d never done it before and when Harry suggested it as a sort of dare you told him how you always wanted to and that’s how this all happened. You didn’t regret it even though you were sure Tyler wouldn’t appreciate it. But you were having fun.

Suddenly you felt Harry’s hand on your ankle as he pulled at you, causing you to twist under the water. You reached toward his hand just as he let go and then pushed your head out of the water with a gasp, “Hey!”

Harry laughed. He was already swimming toward the other side of the pool, away from you, “What? What happened?” He stopped and turned toward you, a look of faux concern on his face.

“What do you mean what?!” You pushed yourself off the wall to swim toward him, “You grabbed me!”

Harry watched you dog paddle toward him with a big smile on your pretty face. He was just trying to make you laugh. Liked hearing it. Liked seeing you smile. Because he had noticed how you weren’t quite as carefree around Tyler lately. He noticed how your demeanor had changed from what he used to know of you, and he’d even overheard an argument you and his son had just the night before. He was worried that you and Tyler were drifting apart. Though it wasn’t his business at all, he figured the least he could do was to make you smile. This was your vacation too.

“Nope. I’m over here,” he laughed, “Couldn’t have grabbed you. Must have been like one of those pool monsters or something.”

You laughed loudly, the sound bouncing off the water and the trees all around. Harry smiled widely.

“You’re so cheesy, Harry,” you splashed water at him and clung to the edge of the pool.

Harry swam next to you and put his arm on the edge of the pool facing you, “Cheesy? How so?”

He was a bit close to you. Not that you minded. You trusted him but you didn’t trust yourself not to let your eyes wander. His chest was delectable and the muscles on his arms with his tattoos… his jawline.

You cleared your throat before smiling, “Pool monster?”

Harry laughed and nodded, “Yes. Pool monster. There’s one that lives in this pool. Did you not know?”

You shook your head, “That’s what I mean. Cheesy. Such a dad thing to say even to a grown woman.”

“Oh you’re a grown woman are you?” Harry blew out a laugh through his nose as he kept his lagoon-green eyes on yours.

You splashed at him again but then Harry retaliated with a massive spray of water back in your direction. You had no idea how he did it, but it was like a bucket of water was thrown at you.

Gasping you let go of the edge of the pool and flailed in the water coughing. It was dramatic but you’d swallowed a big gulp of pool water and sucked in some through your nose.

You heard Harry laughing and then felt his hand on your sides to lead you toward the side of the pool, “Take it easy. Here, back to the edge. You okay?”

You put your arms over the side and coughed, momentarily forgetting your tits were out and about for anyone to see. For Harry to see.

Harry patted your back and then as you calmed you felt his palm smoothing up and down your spine, “Sorry, Y/n. Didn’t know you’d open your mouth up and take a gulp like that,” he laughed softly.

You smushed yourself to the edge and took a breath before looking at him, “You’re trying to drown me,” you chuckled.

He didn’t mean to look. He told himself to keep his eyes on your face but you were half out of the pool, your breasts pressed into the tiles and when his eyes lowered you saw it clear as day. But maybe a small part of you liked it. He quickly moved his gaze elsewhere and you smiled as you lowered yourself back under the surface.

“Really wasn’t. Just figured you’d be ready for splash retribution. You have to keep your guard up, Y/n. Rule number one of pool play,” he laughed and then finally looked back at you. Into your eyes this time.

“I’ll remember that from now on,” you grinned and then with all you had, cupped your hands and splashed him directly in his face before you swam away laughing as he thrashed in his spot.

You heard him let out a short cackle before you heard the water moving under him. He was swimming toward you quickly. And Harry was a much better swimmer than you so in only seconds he was grabbing your arm and then pulling at you to lift and fling you forward, all your bits out for him to see before you landed in the water with a splatter and a plop.

His laughter was contagious. You turned to him with your mouth dropped open in surprise but couldn’t help but giggle.

“Sorry, Y/n! Fuck…” he shook his head and smoothed his wet hair back, “Forgot we’re in our birthday suits,” he pulled his lips into his mouth, his elbow at the edge of the pool. You followed and hung on to the edge for a reprieve from needing to kick your feet and flap your arms for a moment.

“I guess that’s just part of pool play,” you laughed. Harry nodded, his dimples casting shadows into his cheeks.

You both took a sip from your glasses.

“You and Tyler had an argument last night,” Harry suddenly spoke what was on his mind, “Couldn’t help overhear it. Didn’t mean to but…” he shrugged.

You nodded before placing your glass along the tiles next to the pool, “Right. I mean, I know we were loud. We’ve been arguing a bit more lately. Sorry about that.”

“What’s wrong? Anything I can help with? Hate to know you two are having any problems.”

You smiled at him, “No. Nothing you can help with. We just sometimes don’t see eye to eye on certain things.”

Harry sat his wine glass down next to yours, “Like what?”

“Harry, I don’t know… it’s not something I think Tyler would want me to tell anyone.”

He laughed and began to backstroke away from you and then turned and swam back, “So don’t tell him you told me,” he licked his lips and you watched as his deep pink rose-colored lips quirked up.

You raised your brows and grinned back, “You can’t say anything. Swear to me,” you pointed.

Harry moved in closer, his eyes on you, “Of course, Y/n. I would never say anything.”

You believed him. Maybe it was because he had always given you the vibe that he was a good person to tell secrets to. Or maybe it was two bottles of wine making you more likely to gab.

“He… well he’s not super adventurous in bed,” you bit your lip and looked down at the water, of course noticing the fleshy bit swaying between his legs had you averting your eyes quickly to the edge of the pool.

“Oh?” Harry hadn’t expected you to say that. “Tell me more. Why did this turn into an argument?” He put his elbows on the edge of the pool as you moved to pick up your glass.

“Like…” you glanced at him and laughed as you shook your head, “I’m not gonna tell you everything but for example,” you placed your elbows over the edge, mimicking Harry, “I… you know, enjoy giving him blowjobs. But… he doesn’t want to like,” you looked down at the tile and laughed, “Oh my god I can’t believe I’m about to say this… he doesn’t want to thrust into my throat because he thinks it’ll hurt me.” You placed your face into your hands and chuckled.

You turned to look at Harry slowly only to find a soft grin on his face, “And? Why did this turn into an argument?”

Swallowing down your saliva you decided to just drop the bigger bomb because none of it made sense without that big detail and, well, you were two bottles of red deep so why the hell not?

“He never returns the favor,” you watched his eyes widen.

“What? He doesn’t? Like ever? Ever?” The look of horror on his face was almost comical. But it definitely matched your own feelings about the whole thing.

You shook your head, “So, sometimes he does. But he’s only down there when I beg him and then it’s for two minutes tops and it’s awful. He hates doing it and it makes me feel awful about myself and he always reassures me but it’s so hard not to take personally because I am so excited to do it for him. I just don’t get why he doesn’t like it with me. And that just leads to us fighting."

Harry nodded, “Well I get why this would be an argument. And I can’t believe he doesn’t…” he shook his head, “I’m kind of surprised to hear this to be honest. Just,” he scratched his head and looked back toward the house where Tyler was probably fast asleep, “Don’t take it personally. I can guarantee it has nothing to do with you, Y/n.”

You took another sip of your wine and then pushed yourself off the wall to float back into the water, kicking your legs as you looked up at the sky, “But it’s okay I guess. Sex isn’t everything, right?”

Harry watched you float back toward the opposite side of the pool, “Right. That’s definitely true.” But while those words were true, Harry didn’t quite believe the deeper sentiment of it.

He swam toward you, taking two long side strokes, and dunked his head under the water. You lowered your legs to float upright when you felt the ripples just as he popped out in front of you, wet hair flopping over his forehead before he took his hand and ran it into his hair to push it back.

“We probably shouldn’t tell him that we did this,” you spoke as you watched Harry’s chest drip with water.

“Wasn’t planning on it. It’ll be our secret.”

That dimpled grin again made you grin in return.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” you laughed.

Harry lifted his arms from the water, “What? You said you’d never done it and that you wanted to?” He laughed.

“I did. It’s actually really fun.”

“Isn’t it?”

You nodded and glanced at the house and back to Harry. The quiet was making you feel something. Not quite nervous, but definitely something that had your skin rising with goosebumps, and your heart rate increasing. It could have been Harry’s eyes on you. The warmth you felt on your spine when you thought about how you two were both naked and that he’d most definitely seen your breasts when he flung you out of the water. His hands pinched into your thighs as he pushed you upward, which meant he probably had also seen your bottom, perhaps more.

But somehow he didn’t make you feel like you should be ashamed or embarrassed. It was quite refreshing to be around Harry. Even if you were nude and it was probably inappropriate to be doing such a thing with the father of the man you were intimately involved with. Even still, with Harry, it felt honest and natural.

“Harry, this might be one of the best nights I’ve ever had. Seriously. Thank you for having Ty invite me. This feels really special to be here in Lombardy.”

“I’m glad you could come. Honestly, I love Tyler but he’s not nearly as much fun as you.”

You chuckled softly as you looked up at the dark sky, clinging to the edge of the pool. When you kicked, your leg slid against Harry’s. You could feel the solid warmth of his shin and the virile hair that tickled your skin.

“Oh. Believe me. I know I’m way more fun than he is,” you spoke the words as a joke but both you and Harry knew that you were saying something a bit bawdy regarding Tyler’s prudishness.  

You gazed at the night sky, the stars bright and flickering in and out of existence before your eyes. Every now and then Harry’s leg would bump against yours but you liked it. Neither of you would do anything to stop the subtle and innocent brushes of skin.

“Isn’t it wild how right now, as we’re looking up at the stars that some of them are already burned out, while others are coming to life and being born right before our eyes? But they’re light years away so we have no idea of the magic that’s taking place.” You spoke quietly.

You could see in your peripheral that Harry had turned his head to look at you, “We’re just at the mercy of the universe, Y/n. Me, you, and everyone else here. It’s beautiful and exciting, isn’t it?”

You smiled, keeping your gaze upward, “I love that. Just as the mercy of the universe,” you turned to look at him as your leg floated against his, “It’s beautiful.”

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[quill-and-quiver]

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: house of the dragon | aemond targaryen x fem!reader 𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: After years of pining after Prince Aemond Targaryen, he finally allows you to meet his prized possession—his dragon. 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜:  i don’t think any. this one’s mild - others won’t be lol | if u noticed anything i missed, pls let me know 𝚆𝙲: 2.7k — 11 min read time .·:*¨༺➻𝙰/𝙽: hi omg! my first post on a shiny new blog (◕‿◕✿) i know i’m like wayy late to the game with aemond but the new trailer coming out kicked my ass into gear. this is pre-s1e10 so we're pretending that aemond does, in fact, have control of vhagar 💀 also what i learned from this fic? aemond calls u pet. i don’t make the rules sorryyy. ALSO ALSO - requests are open - pls send some! 🤍 mills

✧❦༺ 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙 |.☽.| 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 |.☽.| 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 ༻❦✧

As he lies asleep, his head resting on the leather cover of a large tome, you study the features of his face. Your eyes trace the delicate curve of his nose, the sharpness of his Cupid’s bow, his angular jawline. Entranced by him, you may not have even noticed when he stirs if it isn't for the soft hum that slips from his lips. As Aemond lifts his head, you quickly turn back to the open book in front of you.

For the last three months, you have spent an unbearable amount of time with him. He’s recently fixated on the history and technique of dragon riding, and you’ve been helping him with his research. And for the last ten years, you have spent an unbearable amount of time gazing at him from a distance, waiting for him to really notice you.

While you relish the time you spend together in private, you tire of it. The truth is that you’re itching to make a show of your friendship. Publicly. Unfortunately, you doubt Aemond will be so understanding. You’ve spent many late nights together in the library or the study. You’ve even fallen asleep more than once in his private chambers, though not wrapped in his warm arms as you might wish. Especially recently, you’ve begun to waste the nights away talking, commiserating, and comforting one another.

But in the light of the day, under the watchful eye of society, everything is so different. Though you wait for his call during the day, it never seems to come. At times you wonder if Aemond is keeping away from you on purpose. When you cannot avoid one another, he pays you no mind as if you were a simple servant and nothing more. You’ve grown closer over the past months, but he still holds back. He is a man with many secrets, and you don’t appreciate being one of them.

As he groans and stretches, you exert every morsel of self-control to avoid glancing at him, even though you know that the muscles in his neck are likely pulled taut.

“What happened?” he mutters, his voice low and rasped.

“You fell asleep,” you reply as you pretend to be immersed in your book.

“For how long?”

“No idea. I was busy and enjoying the rare silence.”

A lie. You know it’s been at least a couple of hours. The truth is that you couldn’t have woken him up, even if you wanted to. Seeing him rest… You’ve never gotten the chance to before; you’ve always fallen asleep first. But he looked so content, peaceful, young. You’ve never seen him so relaxed, and you couldn’t be the one to destroy it.

“Surely the silence pales in comparison to the charming sound of my voice, does it not?” he says.

You can’t resist the temptation to lift your eyes, and you’re glad you do. You catch him just as the corners of his mouth curve upward into his signature smirk. Even in the dim light of the library, you admire the way his cheeks wrinkle when he smiles.

“Perhaps the way it sounds in your head. To the rest of us out here, it’s rather nasally, actually.”

You offer a grin of your own. He chuckles, leaning back in his seat. He drapes an arm lazily across the the chair. His silver hair is ever so slightly mussed from his nap. As you try not to imagine what it would feel like to run your fingers through it, the light catches on something at his throat. Your eyes flick down to the dragon-shaped hooks on his leather tunic.

“Ah, I found something for you,” you say, searching around the desk. You slide a dusty, red book toward him. “It’s a record documenting the pedigree of several Old Valyrian dragons. I checked and, unfortunately, Vhagar is not among them. The book is old, outdated. Still, I thought you might find it interesting.”

He hums in approval, running his long fingers over the spine of the book. You drag your eyes away from him, busying yourself by trying to find where you’d left off reading.

“I’d like you to meet Vhagar," he says.

Your head snaps back up, your eyes widening.

“What?”

“I want you to meet my dragon.” His unwavering stare tells you that he’s absolutely serious. “You’ve never seen a dragon before, have you? In the flesh, I mean.”

“Well…yes, I suppose I have seen them at a distance but not up close.”

“Good,” he responds, that horribly charming smirk returning. “Then it’ll be educational for you.”

“No, I…” you trail off, unable to come up with an excuse more convincing than ‘I don’t want to.’

“Why? Are you afraid, pet?”

All of the excuses you’ve whipped up in your mind suddenly evaporate. That stupid word that always makes your knees weak. Apparently, you’ve made it obvious that he can have anything he wants when he calls you by that one sweet name.

“Is it not reasonable to be weary of an ancient beast?" you counter. “Dragons are fickle creatures, no matter how much training they’ve had. And that’s not to mention the sheer size alone of Vhagar. I can hardly even imagine.”

“So you do fear her then. Or is it that you do not trust me to protect you should something go awry.”

His eyebrows furrow and head tilts inquisitively. You sigh and shake your head.

“I do trust you, Aemond. It’s just…as I said, dragons are fickle, unpredictable, wild.”

“I can assure you that I have full control over Vhagar.” He pushes the chair behind him and stands before stepping closer. His hand moves to the table, and he leans over your shoulder. His silver hair drops over his frame, nearly brushing against the bare skin of your forearm. In a low, deep voice he says, “I bonded with her, claimed her, rode her with no training. The largest dragon in the known world obeys me and me only.”

Your cheeks heat as his breath ghosts over your neck. His words drip with honey, and you imagine what it would be like to hear those words said of you.

You heave a deep breath and toss him a warning glare before putting a strip of parchment in the book and snapping it closed. You sneak a glance at the clock in the corner of the room and gasp when you realize the time of night. Before you can protest any more, Aemond holds out his hand, his open palm beckoning you forward.

“Come.”

Evidently his persuasion doesn’t just work on Vhagar because at the single command, you too obey him.

He pulls you into one of the Red Keep’s secret passages, tugging you along through an unfamiliar maze of shadowed halls and steps. You follow blindly, realizing just how much you’ve allowed yourself to trust him. And wondering if it’s a good idea. What feels like an eternity later, you step outside into the chilled night air. A quick glance around allowed you to guess at where you are, and you’re proved correct as you eye the massive stone structure before you. The Dragonpit.

You’ve never been inside. You’ve never needed to until now. And you’re in absolute awe of the entire place, craning your neck to take in as much as you can. Once inside the main hall, Aemond gestures for you to wait as he retreats into the shadows.

You aren’t quite sure what to expect. You envision dragons as harsh, violent beings, but Aemond talks about them as though they’re household pets. Trying to imagine Vhagar like a common dog is impossible. Though you’re doing your best to focus on the beautiful craftsmanship of the building, you keep noticing alarming features like ash-stained walls, talon marks slashed through stone, crumbling marble columns.

“Ready?”

Aemond’s voice startles you to a jump. Your head whips to the side to find that he’s snuck up behind you and is standing less than a foot away. He smirks again as you nervously chuckle and nod. When he angles his gaze toward one of the archways, you follow it.

“Māzigon, Vhagar,” Aemond says firmly. He’d used one of the few High Valyrian words you know the meaning of. [come]

You gulp as the lumbering giant moves into the firelight, her massive wings swaying from side to side with each step. Although there is plenty to take in, your eyes immediately latch onto the giant rows of sharp teeth. Vhagar snarls as she prowls forward. An acrid, foul smelling burst of hot air surrounds you - her breath. As the dragon stalks toward you, you can feel your body instinctively shrinking back. You inch closer and closer to Aemond. The beast comes to a pause before you, its nostrils flared.

“Y/N,” Aemond announces, lifting his chin proudly. “May I present the largest dragon in the world. My dragon.”

“She’s…lovely,” you quickly respond. You really hate the way Vhagar’s orange eyes are trained unwaveringly on you.

“Would you like to touch her?”

There he goes again, talking as if he had just presented you with a standard house cat, no larger than a small child. You glance over at Aemond, tilting your head.

“D-do they like to be pet? I hadn’t really thought of them that way.”

“Like it, not so much. But she’ll tolerate it,” he leans closer, offering a sinister crooked smile, “if I command her to.”

A tingle ricochets down your spine. You’re sure he’s just poking fun and, after all, he's talking about Vhagar. But you cannot deny that you, again, pretend you’re the one he’s playing with. You shake yourself out of your head and shrug.

“Alright then. How do you suggest I do this?”

“Lift your hand, flat palm, facing her. I’ll have her come to you. Oh, and try not to move, pet.”

You nod and take a deep breath before extending your arm as far as it will go and positioning your hand as instructed. Aemond steps forward in front of you, waving Vhagar forward.

“Māzigon, Vhagar,” Aemond repeats.

With a huff of hot air and a low growl, Vhagar begins to walk forward. It takes most of your willpower not to shy away. Aemond turns, standing to the side of you and Vhagar as the dragon inches closer and closer to your outstretched arm. She pauses just a few inches from your fingers. You freeze, unsure how to proceed. After a few moments of awkward silence, Aemond speaks.

“You can touch her now,” he teases. “She won’t come closer, you’ll have to meet her halfway.”

“I…right,” you mutter but remain still.

Aemond chuckles, circling around to stand behind you. Once again, he leans closer to you, his voice sounding sweet in your ear as he says, “I told you before, there’s no need to fear her. I have complete control. She won’t harm you.”

You know he’s probably right, but you still can’t bring yourself to move a muscle. You will every fiber of your being to obey you, to reach forward and touch the thing in front of you. But you can’t. More silent moments pass.

Suddenly, you feel the warmth of Aemond’s broad hand as it flattens on the small of your back. You arch your spine in response, startled yet electrified by his gentle touch. His other hand moves to wrap around your forearm, and his body molds around the outside of yours. With careful movements, he pushes your arm forward. Vhagar jerks, tossing her head with a growl. Aemond stops abruptly.

“Manda, Vhagar,” he says quietly. “Manda.” [gentle]

Vhagar huffs but lowers her head just enough for Aemond to guide your stretched palm onto her forehead. You release a breath, smiling despite yourself.

The feeling of her scales is strange - not how you expected. She is smooth and hot, like the ceramic surface of a warm teacup. You giggle, feeling almost giddy at the fact that you’re petting a real dragon as if it were a pup. You marvel at her, running your fingers over her broad head.

“She’s very important to you, isn’t she?” you ask, the thought escaping your lips before you really have the chance to stop it.

A few moments of silence pass before he replies, “Yes. She was…”

His voice fades but you nudge him with your shoulder.

“She was what?”

He heaves a sigh.

“A way to prove myself. To show everyone that I'm not to be passed over simply because I am the second son.”

You nod, your fingers still trailing over Vhagar’s scales.

“While I cannot understand the feeling, I can imagine how difficult it must be,” you reply. “Particularly when your older brother is someone like Aegon, who avoids his responsibilities like a sickness. When you are the one training, studying. It cannot be easy. But she is a very fine dragon, indeed. One you’ve earned. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For trusting me. For sharing her with me.”

You’re still so fascinated by the texture of her scales and blurred by the sound of your nervous heart pounding in your ears that it takes you a moment to realize Aemond’s palm sliding up your arm to cover your own hand. Your smile fades.

He’s never touched you before. Not like this - not so…intentionally, sweetly. You turn your head back to glance up at him and are surprised to find him staring down at you. His parted lips and furrowed eyebrows make your knees feel weak. His hand slips onto your wrist, pulling your touch away from Vhagar. He guides you to face him and wraps his free hand around your other wrist. You don’t resist as your gaze drops down to his lips and then returns to his eyes.

“Qrīdrughagon.” [leave, away]

He doesn’t even bother to look at Vhagar as he speaks the command. With his hands secured firmly around your wrists, he gazes down at you. His thumb brushes along your skin, almost in time with your rapid heartbeat. You dare to look into his stormy eye once again, doing your best to seem enticing but not desperate. Though, by the gods do you feel it.

“I knew you would understand, pet. You’ve always seemed to understand me. No one else ever tries like you.”

He lifts a hand, brushing his knuckles across your cheekbone. Your eyes close in contentment at the sensation of his touch on your skin. When his finger hooks under your chin, you raise your face willingly. Aemond guides you toward him, your noses touching. Your hand slides onto his chest, a fist curling around the leather fabric of his tunic. His breath is hot and fast on your mouth. You release an involuntary gasp.

And then his lips crash onto you, slipping in between yours. When your mouths separate, he wastes no time coming back to you. He angles his head to reach you better as his grip slips from your face to curve around your waist. His other hand, still encircling your wrist, pulls your hand toward his chest and holds it tightly against his heart. His lips move expertly on yours. He pushes against you, and you meet his energy to deepen the kiss. You can feel his grasp tightening, his fingers clutching the material of the fabric on your back. The pressure sends your back into an arch and presses your chest flush against his. He begins to drag his fistfull of your clothes upward. You separate, breathless. But your fingers grip at his tunic, refusing to let him move any further away. He chuckles breathily and moves to attach his lips to yours again. A loud snort from Vhagar startles you, and you jerk back from one another.

“Oh…” you muse and chuckle quietly.

“I should take her back,” he says, breathlessly.

You smooth your hair as Aemond glares at Vhagar. He releases you but not before lifting your hand, curled tightly around his, to his lips and pressing a chaste kiss to your fingers. He steps away to take care of his dragon. With his back to you, he glances over his shoulder. His chest still rises and falls heavily as his eyes flick up and down your frame, the ghost of a wicked smile playing on his lips.

“Troublesome girls, the both of you,” he says teasingly.

When you return to your private chamber the next morning after breakfast, you find a small, stuffed dragon with greenish-blue bronze scales and a handwritten note, which reads:

𝒯𝑜 𝓂𝓎 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓏𝑒𝒹 𝓅𝑒𝓉. 𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝑒. 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊.

— 𝒜.

tags: wanna be tagged?

[kamesama]

sukuna and yūji as siblings ( inspired by this post by @nessieartss )

they are nearly spitting images of one another, but they get gravely offended if someone gets their names mixed up. calling yūji by sukuna's name is always followed by a scowl and his brows wrinkling his skin. sukuna's reaction is the same, making them even more similar. these offences lowered in number after sukuna got his face tattoos, however, they still happen every now and then.

on that note, although they behave differently and have nearly opposite worldviews, there are a couple of gestures that seem to be a shared muscle memory; the way they twist their necks and look at some wandering source of stupidity with the same unimpressed gaze being one of them. of course, they do so in a sync. the way they run their hand through their hair and scratch their head a little when confused. the way they fix their shirt and turn to the side in front of a mirror to judge its fit.

yūji is most definitely subjected to sukuna's insults, but he takes them pretty well; he puts up a fight of his own which sukuna appreciates ( invisibly ). he is happy to know his little brother is resilient. however, there are days where yūji simply cannot stomach the proportions of sukuna's asshole-ry. why are you such a prick?

fights — both verbal and non-verbal, physical and non-physical — are nearly a religious everyday routine. some days it's just sukuna walking by and ruffling yūji's hair as he leaves home, and some days it's a ferocious battle ending with yūji in a headlock because he responded to sukuna's random insult with an exasperated and serious, what the fuck is your problem, dude?

sukuna always ends up having an upper hand.

no one gets to bully sukuna's younger brother — other than him. sure, now when they are older, yūji can handle his own ordeals, but as children, one glare from sukuna was enough to provide salvation for his little brother. sukuna also had a way with their parents to get them out of trouble. how he managed to talk things out with them is beyond yūji even today, but sukuna always saved his ass, walking into crying yūji's room with a confident grin on his face to tell him problem's been solved and he can start kissing his feet.

sukuna found a scrunchie laying around at some point and gave yūji the worst time ever because he teased him so much.

yūji — god bless his wonderful soul — is undoubtedly the more respectful one of the two, unsurprisingly so. that pudding in the fridge that he knows belongs to sukuna? he doesn't touch it. he has no interest in it whatsoever. sukuna, on the other hand, will devour anything and everything he gets his hands on with no regard for ownership. i licked it so it's mine kind of logic. yūji starts hiding his snacks. sukuna nonchalantly finds them.

sukuna busts into yūji's room with nearly no announcement and regard. yūji, on the other hand, always knocks. at some point in the early teenagehood, sukuna's room was a yūji-free zone. no brats allowed. as such, yūji has lesser knowledge of sukuna's room than sukuna has of yūji's.

blackmail. threats. vile words and promises. "brat, give that back or you will never see your vanity fair jennifer lawrence poster again." "*gasp* you wouldn't." "oh, i will."

sukuna finds ways to get certain posters, photos, stickers, merch and absolutely whatever else yūji is dying to have, only to bully the poor boy. "can i see?" "no." "you don't even like that show!" however, these things always find their way onto yūji's desk in the end, or wind up under his bed. when they do, yūji strolls over to sukuna's room with the brightest sun-kissed smile on his precious mouth and expresses his gratitude with the utmost of sincerity and child-like joy. sukuna responds with aloof indifference and a middle finger. it's the tough love.

the times they do get along is when they watch movies together. it's never explicitly admitted, but it has to be their favourite way to spend time in each other's presence. they will binge a show, discuss characters, eat an unhealthy amount of snacks along the way, completely unfazed while someone's guts get clawed out and slurped on screen. horror movies are their forte but yūji successfully got sukuna hooked onto some slice-of-life romance drama here and there. if they are not watching something on some brimming-with-viruses-and-completely-illegal website at home, then they definitely go to the cinema.

the 3 am conversations about life happen. they chew on leftovers of a cold pizza, home alone, under the kitchen light, slowly and calmly commenting on the unyielding passage of time, importance of ambition and drive, and the paradox of life's meaningful meaninglessness. they do so for nine minutes before falling into silence and commenting how stupid that cliff hanger was and how a manga chapter will be delayed again.

yūji's music taste is a spectrum far wider than sukuna's, and although he prefers pop, there are some questionable and edgy songs that seem to crawl their way into his ear because sukuna keeps listening to them on high volume while showering.

surprisingly, yūji is messier than sukuna. both are relatively clean in a way that neither of their rooms resemble a pigsty, but yūji has stray hoodies on his chair or textbooks spread and splattered over his desk ( whether he actually reads them is a separate topic ). sukuna keeps his things relatively neat and leans more towards minimalism in certain aspects.

their styles most definitely clash, but not too drastically; sukuna always seems to wear something of a darker hue to the point yūji strongly questions if he owns something that isn't red, black, white or some shade of grey. on another hand, yūji adores his vivid colours; ugly mustard yellows and pastel pinks and forest greens. sukuna likes his accessories a little edgy but tasteful; yūji finds those to be a hassle because he moves around so much. however, they both seem to show affinity towards comfortable and casual wear.

because of their contrast in terms of dressing, they rarely steal borrow one another's clothes. however, there is a very cool-looking dark blue denim jacket of sukuna's that yūji's got heart eyes for, and every now and then he wears it without having asked for permission. yūji's cheeks are stuffed with his order of burger and french fries when he gets a call from sukuna. he picks up, and all that greets him is a frigid and irritated, brat, did you steal my jacket again? yūji swallows and hangs up.

yūji's socks keep disappearing. it takes him a while to realise it's because sukuna is stealing them, solely because they are made of cotton and comfy.

yūji likes sukuna's phone cases; most of them are dark-ish, sure, but they have this visual effect of elegance that makes the phone look nice. no, sukuna does not give them to his brother. the chambers of his heart are not that vast.

sukuna is more familiar with yūji's friend group than yūji is with sukuna's. he gets along with megumi, enough to acknowledge him as a good friend of his little brother. originally, he teased yūji about nobara, but once he met her, he stopped with a claim that there is zero chemistry between the two and that they're just no fun ( nobara gave him a death glare ). he calls them brats, collectively. on another hand, yūji is not well-versed enough to have a stable opinion of uraume, who seems to be sukuna's partner in crime, but he is very familiar with how irritating his brother finds yorozu who just cannot seem to stop annoying him.

thank you for reading!

— kamesama.

[yawnderu]

i scroll through your page every day like it’s my freaking newspaper omg thank you for all the bimbo!reader content 😭😭🥰

this is kind of going off of your post of reader pampering simon and johnny calling him a pretty boy lol

idk if you’ve ever heard of the boyfriend effect? it’s like this silly (but true) theory that men go through a glow up when getting into a relationship 😅😅

but i def see that in simon. like after getting with reader, he’s taking more pride in his appearance. his muscles aren’t just to keep him at the top of his job but he loves the way you drool over them. or he’s like taken to grooming his facial hair or he’s cleaning up his eyebrows, making sure his nails are clean, he’s stepped up his cologne game 🫠🫠

he just appreciates how much work reader puts into her appearance and finds her so beautiful, he wants to be up to her standards and feel like he’s worthy of being with her 🥺🥺

YES ABSOLUTELY!!

Simon was never one to worry much about his appearance, just wearing military-issued clothes and other random things he bought when he wasn't deployed. It's mentioned that he also didn't even know what skincare was before meeting her and this man used to wash his face with only water or body wash 😭 but once she starts getting him introduced to all those things and she starts doing his skincare?? Simon Riley, the man that you are.

He's seen you spend over an hour doing your skincare and always making sure your presentation looks good before going out, spending a lot of time doing your makeup, hair, nails and planning outfits, and he starts truly believing that he has to look good for you as well.

He starts to trim his nails more and clean them up well, sometimes even asking you for help or accepting to go get a manicure with you so the callouses in his hands get better and he can have soft hands to hold and touch you. He'd never admit it, but he spent a long time at different stores trying to pick a body wash and cologne that smells pleasant so he can always smell nice when he's out with you.

He starts to shave his face more often, using an aftershave with a pleasant, masculine smell. He tries his best to shower before coming back home to you, and if he's not able to, the first thing he does is suggest that you both take a shower together, secretly proud to see your surprised face at how many things he uses now to clean his body compared to the tiny bar of cheap soap that he used when you first met.

Sure, his muscles make him a more intimidating figure in the battlefield and help him be at the top, but he's never felt more grateful for them than when you're tying a bow on his arm and making him flex just to see it unwrap. He absolutely loves how you worship his body and having your long, pretty nails run over his muscles when you touch him, squeezing his muscles and drooling over them and how cool he looks.

He wants to keep up with you— you're a very pretty girl who puts a lot of effort into your appearance, and he wants to do the same, wanting to look worthy of being with you even when in your eyes, he was fully worthy of it even before he changed.

I also believe that bimbo!reader had the idea to plan his Senpai Ghost outfit HBJEFJHFEHJBFE

Bimbo!Reader Masterlist

[nyxiswrites1200]

𝓥𝓪𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓮'𝓼 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 💌

Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFT, MDNI, Cheating (remember cheating isn't cool guys <3), Drinking, Size kink, P in V, Nipple Play

Mentions: Lingerie, Failing marriage

An: Hey babes <3 welcome to the Valentine's collection. I'll be posting a series of spicy and romantic fics this week. I intend to make this a tradition of doing different characters each year.

----

You couldn't believe this! It was Valentine's day and your husband hasn't acknowledged it. He kissed you this morning before he left for work and that was it.

There's no way he forgot because you said it just yesterday, even agreed on plans. But, here it is, almost 7pm and he was still at work according to his text. You couldn't help but sigh as you sat alone in the apartment.

You can't say you didn't see this coming, your relationship has been a little rough. Mostly due to his absence but that's besides the point.

You brush down your carefully picked outfit you'd put on. Feels like it's going to waste now. You get up and step outside of your apartment, maybe you would just go do something on your own. Just for the sake of getting fresh air is what you tell yourself.

Then a stroke of luck, your apartment neighbor walks back from checking his mail. Toji and you were friendly. He was a single man and nice enough, plus you appreciated his honesty sometimes. He also likes the way you make cookies and jello shots, neither your husband appreciated.

"That color looks good on you" Toji chimes in as he notices you, that cocky smirk on his lips. You can't help but smile a little "Well, thanks Toji. I'm glad someone can appreciate it." You scoff, yeah, maybe you were a little bitter.

"Oh? Is he not home yet?" He asks, in reference to your husband "Oh it's worse! He's not here and he's barely acknowledged me all day. Would it kill him to at least send flowers or something?" You pout as you brush a hand over your hair.

Toji scoffed "What a piece of work" he smirks as he looks at you "Why don't you come in for a drink? I'd hate to let such a pretty thing waste away all night on a man who can't appreciate it" he suggested, and you were more than happy to oblige.

Toji let you in, his apartment was cleaner than you thought. He fixed you both a shot while giving you something to chase it with.

You sigh as you down the shot and sip on your chaser to soothe the burn.

Toji downs his shot with ease as he looks over at you "Oh come on, princess. Don't be down...you get to spend the evening with me" he smirks and you can't help but chuckle at how cocky he is. Although, he has every right to be.

Toji is huge, he's tall with muscles for days. He has a dominating aura, he was overwhelming. You liked it, maybe a little more than you should for someone who's married.

You haven't bothered to check your phone. Toji had you laughing, drinking, and forgetting about the shitty day you were having. His hand on your thigh as he rubbed it with his thumb. The simple action had you feeling a pulse in your panties.

"You know, I don't know why you don't have a date tonight" you chuckle "Oh? You think I'm that charming?" He teases "If not charming, then at least a girl would come home to get some action" you add softly.

Toji can't help but let out a deep chuckle "That's fair, princess. But I can't see why your loser husband would miss out on you".

"Why? Would you do different?" You smile as you lean in a bit closer to him. It was probably the alcohol making you this confident.

Toji smirked as he moved his hand to wrap around your waist. "Of course I would, princess. I wouldn't miss the chance to spend time with you...to kiss those pretty lips of yours...to push those pretty lacy panties aside" he says in a low tone, one that has you pressing your thighs together.

"Yeah?..." You respond breathlessly.

"I'm not gonna touch you, princess. I don't want you to hate me" he chuckles "I could never" you lean in close. "Are you drunk?" He asks "No, I promise" you say sternly.

Toji carefully cups your cheek with his strong and large hands. "Please, Toji..." You beg softly, looking up at him.

Toji groans "You're gonna get me in so much trouble, princess".

Toji leans in and kisses you gently, you don't hesitate to kiss him back. He moves his hands to your waist, his big hands practically covering your hips. You tangle your hands into his hair as you swipe your tongue along his bottom lip. Toji doesn't hesitate to let your tongue inside, he tastes the alcohol on your tongue and it's addicting.

He picks you up and pulls you into his lap, trying not to break the kiss. He sets you down, right against his cock. You moan into his mouth as you feel his cock press against you through your clothes.

Toji pulls away from the kiss, saliva connecting your lips.

"You're so pretty..." he rasps as his hands slide up under your shirt. You arch into his chest at the feeling of his hands on your skin.

"Thank you, Toji" you speak softly as you feel his hands undo your bra. "Of course, princess." He tossed your bra to the side as his hands cup your breasts, fondling them, and teasing your nipples.

"Mm- Toji~" you moan as he fondles you. "You've got such nice tits, princess. Your nipples get hard so easy...or is that because it's just me?" He teased with a small chuckle.

"Yeah, it feels so good" you moan as you begin to grind your hips into his hard cock. Between the bit of alcohol and lustful haze, you weren't really sure your words made any sense. You just know you wanted Toji to keep touching you.

Toji didn't waste much time, the next moments almost felt like a blur to you. His hands are prying off your clothing as you do the same to him. He lets out unrestrained moans and groans as he stuffs you full of his cock.

"Tojiii~ So...fuckin big" you moan as you're scratching into his back. He grunts in response "You feel so good, princess. You're man is really missing out..." He chuckles breathlessly "I'm so glad that the pretty lingerie you bought didn't go to waste~" he rasps, not missing the lacy set you were wearing when he tugged off your clothes.

It doesn't take long before Toji has you toppling over the edge. His hands leaving marks on your hips as he let you cum all over his cock. Sinful moans and lewd noises filling the room.

As much as he wanted to fill you up, leave his cum dripping out of you when you left to go back to your husband, he settled for pulling out and cumming on your stomach. You whine, you almost sounded disappointed.

Toji chuckled as he leaned in and kissed you "What is it, princess?". You kiss him back but slowly pull away as you look up at him. "You could have finished inside...I'm on the pill" you say softly "Well, I didn't know you wanted to prove such a point to your shitty husband" he chuckled.

You flipped yourself over on the couch, your tits pressing into the sofa with your ass up and soaked pussy on display. "You wanna do it again?" You ask sweetly, looking back at Toji. Toji groaned as he felt his cock immediately get hard again. "You're such a dirty little princess, aren't you?" He smirked.

His hand came up and rubbed along your folds before lightly slapping your pussy. You let out a whiny moan in response.

Toji doesn't hesitate to stuff you full of him again. His cock always hits the deepest and most sensitive parts of you, the ones that have you pulsing around his cock within minutes.

He holds your hands behind your back, his figure easily towering over you. It only takes one of his hands to keep both of yours pinned behind you. You can't help but moan out for him into the apartment, absolutely sure someone must hear this.

"You're so pretty like this...bent over, taking my cock, drooling into the cushions. Nobody has ever fucked you this good, hm?" He teased as he lightly slapped your ass, earning him another needy moan.

"No no, nobody has ever fucked me so good~" you stutter out as you press your hips back into Toji when he slaps your ass.

"Awe, poor thing. Don't worry, you can always come over when you need it" he says lowly, his voice having you tightening around his cock.

"Toji- I'm close" you whine out as you grind back into him. Toji moves his hands so they're both firmly holding your hips. He starts thrusting more roughly into you, pounding against your poor cervix.

The action leaving you a moaning and whiny mess beneath him as you babbled his name into the cushions. Then you practically screamed as you came- no, squirted on his cock. Toji relished the sight of you as he thrust into you a few more times before pressing right against your sweet spot and cumming inside you.

After a few beats, Toji slowly pulls out of you. He flips you over, dragging you into his chest as both of you try to catch your breath.

"Do you wanna take a shower?" He asks softly as he reaches over and cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. "The night is still kind of young, we could get some shitty takeout and have a few more drinks..." He rasps and you can't help but blush a little. "I'd like that..." You smile in return...

The following morning, you return to your apartment with little guilt or shame, considering the fact your husband didn't text you all night.

Maybe you should be looking into divorce papers, Toji seemed like he never wanted you to leave. Maybe he'd welcome you into moving in?