#boy do i love putting my characters through The Worst

[yeenybeanies]

this will only mean something to me & to anyone else that read the transformers comics (specifically lsotw & mtmte) but

i’m thinkin rn that maybe. just maybe. setback was one of the prisoners at garrus 9 when overlord took over & turned it into a giant deathfest. managed to avoid dying in the deathmatches, & escaped when the wreckers came in & liberated the place

& then he ends up on earth eventually & he’s like wow. traded one hell for another

[1-800-kami]

R U MINE? feat. gojo satoru

gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it. 

that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…

“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”

IMPORTANT: part two is out! read here :)

content: 8k words, afab!reader, angst! fluff! heartbreak! n everything in between! implied smut, rich college frat boy gojo and hellcat driver geto 🤑, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a toxic ex, trust issues (?) gojo is absolutely insufferable, misunderstandings, use of words hoe, slut, etc., mutual pining, some jjk character cameos (wink wink) me writing very unfunny dialogue, no bc wtf is this, cheating implications, emo gojo (the worst warning of them all)

author's note: hello hello! my name is kami, i've been reblogging fics on tumblr for a while now but i've recently figured out how to work this hellsite, so i'm going to start posting fics that i write! thank you to those who enjoyed my nanami drabble <3 kisses 4 u all.

this fic IS split into two parts (update: part two is now out!! linked here 2 read) and there is smut in the second part. so just. prepare yourselves for that ig.

reblog and interact for a kiss ;)

“so… let me get this straight.”

“go ahead.”

shoko takes a deep breath, and you just somehow know that she’s pinching her nose in exasperation right now. “utahime dragged you out to a party in hopes that you would hit it off with somebody. you wander off on your own and later, she sees you and gojo–THE gojo satoru–giving you his number?!”

“uh, yeah. that’s exactly what happened.”

“do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?! that man bags hoes like they’re pokemon!” you readjust the phone against your ear and sigh at shoko’s comment. 

“okay, first of all, never say that again. second, i rejected all of his advances. i didn’t even save his number.” you stare at the crinkled-up note in your hands, which proudly displays his number and a slick call me if you change your mind ;). you wonder if you could sell this paper to his fangirls–you’d surely make a little bit of cash out of it. “i’ve seen gojo around. i know that i shouldn’t mess with him. plus, he was drunk as hell at the party; i doubt he even remembers my name. to him, i’m just some chick that he’s frustrated at because she didn’t want to fuck him the second she saw him.”

“do you… do you share any classes with him?”

“i don’t think i do.. just, don’t worry about it, okay? i’ll throw away his number and we can put all of this behind us. here, i’ll do it right now.” you rip up the paper into a few pieces before tossing it in the garbage can. hopefully, you did it loud enough that shoko heard it through the phone. “i get that you’re worried for me. and i appreciate that, but i can handle myself.”

“just… no more mention of gojo anymore, okay? you’re right, y/n. let’s just put this all behind us.” shoko sighs, and you smile at that. problem solved. you threw away his number, and he’s most likely moved on to the next girl by now, so that was that. now, you just have to forget about satoru gojo.

all to never let yourself get hurt ever again.

it’s hard to forget about gojo.

not because of those dangerous blue eyes of his–getting anyone lost in them if they stare for too long. not because of his stupid silvery white hair, which makes him look like a mop, and sometimes like a paintbrush. not that stupid cocky grin of his, either…

...but because you’ve recently found out that he sits next to you for physics.

the revelation was truly disheartening. you thought you could avoid him for the rest of the year because as far as you knew, you shared no classes with him. however, you completely forgot about the fact that gojo never attends class in the first place, and you don’t even know what classes he’s in… because he’s never there. so finding out that the seat next to you in physics wasn’t just an empty seat, and it was gojo’s assigned one, was truly an experience.

“gojo.” the name alone makes your heart stop, and you drop your pen to look at the man your teacher was addressing. “finally choosing to attend class for once?”

speak of the devil.

there he was, in all his glory–the man you’d never thought you had to deal with ever again. the man who tried to butter you up with his corny sweet talk so that you would go home with him for the night. the man who persisted with talking to you, even though you were barely interested. the man, who, at the end of the night, insisted on writing down his number for you in case you changed your mind about him and gave him a chance.

you wanted to shrink into your seat and never resurface. 

“good morning, yaga!” he says rather loudly, with no regard to honorifics at all. a few giggles could be heard across the classroom–though geto suguru’s voice was prominent–satoru’s equally as infamous bestfriend. “and yeah! it’s surprising, isn’t it?”

what’s also surprising is how gojo took a seat next to you. you thought that there was a mistake, that your teacher would scold him for sitting somewhere he isn’t supposed to sit and relocate him elsewhere. however, yaga just grumbles and begins the lesson, leaving you helpless and unable to look at the man next to you.

you swear he’s burning holes at the back of your head.

pleasdon’tremembermeisweartogodpleasedon’trememberme-

“you’re that girl from the party, right?” he whispers, and you’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your life. you slowly nod your head, turning to look at him, and he pouts. “y/n l/n. you never saved my number. hmph, i was looking forward to a text from you, too.”

“i’m surprised you even remember me, 'cause you were fucking wasted that night.” you twiddle your pencil, averting your gaze from the man. “and i never saved your number cause i threw the paper in the trash. it’s probably at a landfill somewhere, y’know.”

your words catch him off guard, and you laugh at how surprised satoru looks. it seems that’s definitely not an emotion he shows often. despite his initial reaction, satoru swears he could feel butterflies with the way your laugh sounds.

“not a common problem for a womanizer, huh?”

“what did you just call me?!-”

“y/n and gojo, do either of you have something to share with the class?” a dark blush of embarrassment covers your face, and somewhere in the back, you could hear geto snickering. gojo just smirks at yaga, seeming completely uanffected. “then i’d suggest you stay quiet the rest of this lesson. don’t make me separate you two.”

“i’d prefer that, actually…” gojo huffs at your comment, thinking of this as a lost opportunity if the two of you get separated. he does a once over at your appearance. you’re cute, but definitely not the party kind. you’re playing hard to get, and gojo finds it adorable–not a lot of girls go that way with him. however, gojo thinks you’re not just like any girl. there’s something different about you that intrigues him.

“did no one ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”

“how could i not? you’re so cute.” 

“i thought you already learned from the party, gojo. i’m not interested in you.” 

the light blush coating your cheeks says otherwise. he smiles cheekily at the way you tried to hide your reaction to his words. you’re an enigma to gojo… and he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he thinks he’s made his decision.

he’s gonna do whatever’s possible to get your number.

when the bell rings 30 minutes later, you shove your notebook into your bag, eager to finally leave the class that you had with that stupid paintbrush. that is, until he stops you with a question. “what class do you have next?”

he’s relentless. “why do you care?”

“i want to walk you to your next class,” he says, and smirks before saying his next words. “it doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not. i’ll just follow you anyways.”

you sigh, absolutely exasperated with him. he’s like a fly who keeps invading your personal space—always coming back no matter how many times you swat it away. he’s right, though. damn him for being stubborn. “i actually have this period free.”

“oh, sweet!” he chirps, walking with you out the door, making sure to greet geto before he leaves the classroom. “let’s go to the courtyard. i’ll buy you a drink from the vending machine-“

“i was gonna do that regardless if you were here or not.” you give him a look, and you can’t help but tug on your sleeves when you see people whisper to each other as you walk the halls with gojo. of course you’ve heard the rumors. the man next to you is the most popular guy on campus. girls glare daggers at you and the guys call his name, although he barely even acknowledges them. 

some common things that you’ve heard about gojo around the school are: “i heard he only talks to girls for sex,” “apparently his best friend geto is just as much of a player!” “i mean, who wouldn’t fuck a guy like gojo, though? he’s hot and loaded.” “that’s how he reels you in, though. he gets his hand in your pants and never calls you back again.” you know you should stay away from him, it’s common sense, but it’s hard to stay away from him when he’s the one who glues himself to your side. 

“well, now you’ll get a free drink and we’ll get to know each other! isn’t that great?” he smiles and you just grimace at his words. 

“i don’t need your money…”

“don’t care! can’t hear you!” he says, and you’ve seriously considered just making a run for it. at least you’ll lose him, and you’d finally be able to find peace for a bit. although, it would cause a scene, and gojo would probably end up finding you again somehow. 

“what can i do to get you to leave me alone?”

that piques his interest, even though he looks slightly hurt by your question. he thinks for a bit, and smirks. “i really do want to buy you something from the vending machine.. and i want you to spend your free period with me. i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you do.”

“do you promise? like, actually?”

“mhm! pinky promise!” you feel like you’re talking to a prepubescent boy.

“then sure-“ you’re about to agree, but he cuts you off with one more condition.

“i also want your number.”

you feel like you’ve been cursed by a god, because having the most popular guy on campus be interested in you has got to be the most chaotic thing to ever happen in your life.

“what do you have me saved as?” 

the question comes from out of the blue, and you look up from the book you were completely absorbed in. you and satoru were at the school library, on a “study date” as he calls it, although it was more so just gojo inviting himself to wherever place you go, as per usual. this time, you have an exam to study for, and you explicitly told him not to bother you unless absolutely necessary.

you do have to say, though, he’s not annoying as you thought he was. he just nagged you way more the first day he sat next to you in physics so he could get your number. it’s been a few days since then, but still, you’d definitely be more efficient in your studies if you didn’t have him attached to your hip all the time.

“satoru, i told you not to bother me-“

“unless absolutely necessary. yeah, i heard you, and this question needs an absolutely necessary answer! contact names really say a lot about our relationship, y’know.”

“relationship? nobody ever said we were even friends-“

“don’t break my heart like that, babe. plus, you don’t call me gojo anymore! it’s satoru to you now,” his heart warms at that realization, and you scoff, especially at the pet name. “we are friends, unless you’d like to be something more...”

“if you say anything else i’m calling you by your government name. gojo satoru.” he looks especially wounded by that.

“ah! don’t do that, please. it feels like we’re a married couple and you’re really mad at me.” he cries and you can’t help but giggle at his words. you decide to entertain him a little bit, fishing through your pocket to find your phone. 

he almost passes out at what he sees on your screen.

“it’s just my number? you didn’t even save my contact?!-“

the shushes from your fellow students and the librarians aren’t even enough to calm gojo’s agony and despair. it also does nothing to stop your laughter, either.

from that day on, gojo’s contact was forcefully changed from his number to “satoru” (he initially added a heart, but you deleted it, much to his disappointment) and one of his many selfies from his stupid instagram account. how the hell can a college student even have thousands of followers?! you think. 

gojo just says that nobody can resist his shirtless post-workout selfies. you’re surprised that you didn’t slap him at his words.

you push him away.

everytime gojo buys your favorite drink, (it’s always on him, despite your genuine insistence in saying that you could pay for your drink just fine.) everytime he walks you to all of your classes each day, (he memorized your schedule just so he could do this) everytime he buys you your favorite foods on the rare instances that you let him take you out for lunch, (usually, this requires a lot of begging, and you mostly relent during class when you’re just exasperated and wanted to get some notes down.), and everytime he calls you by those stupid pet names of his, you think back to what the entire student body says about him, and you think back to your phone call with shoko, where she warns you to not associate with him so you don’t get hurt by anyone ever again, and you push him away.

you push him away even when you realize that if he just wanted you for sex, he would’ve stopped chasing after you when you didn’t text him after that night at the party.

and that thought alone scares you.

still, you’re not heartless. satoru’s been asking to take you out for a while, and you finally agreed to go today. he’s especially chipper about your agreement right now, walking with a slight pep in his step as he bit around his ice cream cone. 

the park boasts some beautiful scenery today, and little children are out and about. still, you underestimated the weather, and the cold uncomfortably nipped your arms as you internally cursed yourself out for wearing just a shirt. you crossed your arms as a subtle way to shield yourself from the cold.

“don’t play coy with me, y/n. are you cold?” satoru says with a cocky grin, and you huff at his question. surprisingly, he drops the teasing act and unzips his sweater, handing it to you. “here, take it.”

“satoru-“

“i’m not doing this to flirt or whatever you’re thinking right now. you’re shivering, and i’m just concerned for you, so please wear it.” he deadpans, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him be so… upfront? you kind of like it. it’s not him teasing you or him being flirty. it’s just him showing that he genuinely cares for you as a friend. you take the sweater with a nod and put it on, ignoring how your heart is thumping as you take in his signature smell. cedarwood with a little bit of musk. it’s not an overpowering scent, but it still envelopes your senses.

“nevermind. you look so cute with my hoodie on. i feel like we’re in a j-drama right now, y/n!”

you take back everything you just said.

a few minutes later, you two are near the kids playground when you decide to take a break from walking, sitting on a nearby bench with gojo. the chirping of the birds and the wind passing through the trees is quickly overpowered by loud crying. crying from the child right in front of you, in fact.

you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but satoru beats you to it. he kneels in front of the kid, and coos, “hey, buddy. what’s your name, hm?”

he stops crying for a moment to look at gojo and shakily responds, “gumi-um, megumi fushiguro..” 

“megumi, huh.” he clicks his tongue for a moment. “why are you crying, megumi?”

“i-i don’t know where my dad is!” he cries, and satoru looks to you for help. you just shrug, unsure of what to do with the lost kid, until gojo’s face lights up, assumingly with a great idea.

“he’s most likely just around here somewhere. you can wait with us, and we’ll help you find him! say, do you want an ice cream to help you feel better, megumi?” the boy hesitantly nods, and satoru gives him a thumbs up as he takes him to the nearby ice cream stand. you’re watching this entire scene unfold, absolutely enamored with gojo for the first time. you didn’t think he had a natural talent with kids—but the way he’s making megumi laugh while he happily snacks on his ice cream says otherwise. an outsider could look at you three and assume that you’re just a happy family. 

you try to ignore how that makes you feel.

and as you wave goodbye to megumi once he eventually is reunited with his father again, (an intimidating man who gave you two an appreciative nod as he walked away with his son.) you realize something as you tug on the sleeves of your-satoru’s sweater. 

you’re in love with gojo satoru.

and fuck, that revelation scares you more than anything. the last time you had given your heart to a man, he had crushed it repeatedly until you decided that you would never let yourself be vulnerable like that ever again. 

and now, you're in love with your school’s notorious playboy—and it feels like you’re setting yourself up to be heartbroken again. you want disregard those rumors and shoko’s words so badly, but they still eat at the back of your mind even though the real gojo satoru is right in front of you, and he doesn’t match the characteristics of the gojo satoru in those rumors at all.

you also remember that he has one real best friend, geto suguru. you like to think that this is also what geto sees in gojo. the reason why he’s stuck around.

the reason why you want to stick around too.

you’re so busy in your head that you’ve just noticed gojo frantically waving his hand in your face. “earth to y/n? oh, good! i thought you had, like, a shock reaction from seeing megumi’s father. he looked a little scary, no?” 

“he looks like if a muscle came to life and started talking.” you whisper, and he laughs in agreement. burying your hands into the pockets of his hoodie, you smile. you don’t want to think about your current revelation with gojo right now. instead, you’ll stick with the present. and right now, you like the present.

you just don’t want to think about what this means for your future.

it’s the weekend, and you’re doing some work at the local cafe, gojo-free for once. only god knows what the man is doing at three pm in the afternoon on a saturday. not like you should be thinking about him right now, though. his presence alone has caused you to be behind on your studies, and you need to make sure you catch up.

you have to admit, you were a little unused to the silence. usually, the silence would be filled with gojo’s endless banter with you, as well as his terrible, corny jokes that are so stupid you can’t help but laugh. his seemingly never-ending presence was annoying at first, but now, you’re starting to yearn for his company.

it further fuels the pit of uncertainty in your stomach, and you hate it.

shaking your head with a sigh, you take another bite of your pastry and continue typing up the report on your laptop. the looming thought of this report’s impact on your grade and the need to pass this class helps you forget about satoru for a while. once again, you get lost in your academics.

the ring of the cafe bell breaks you from your trance. it was a natural impulse of yours to glance at everyone who entered the cafe, but once you did this time, you felt your heart drop down to your knees.

it was your ex. 

your ex boyfriend who destroyed the notion of love for you, because he made you feel it for a short time, only to throw it all into a pit of fire and leave you scrambling to find nothing but ashes. 

if you had to find the true roots as to why you’re so afraid to pursue a new relationship–you always find your ex in the center of it. and now, he’s right in front of you. you have to face him again when you refuse to shamefully admit that you’ve barely even healed from the emotional scars that he’d left behind. 

you feel as if an invisible hand has wrapped itself around your throat, blocking your airways and your ability to speak.

out of all the days satoru wasn’t here with you, it had to be this one.

“y/n? is that you, sweetheart?” you wanted to vomit at the way he said your name. he had no right to say it so sweetly, when all he’s ever left behind is venom. 

“i don’t want to talk to you.” you cringe at the way your voice cracks, and you avert your gaze from him.

“please, just hear me out for a minute, baby..” he coos, and you hate the way he talks to you as if you were a child. “i know i fucked up, and i can’t change our past… but i can change our future together. if you take me back, i’ll show you how much i’ve changed-”

you don’t know how many times you’ve heard that stupid line before.

“god, you sound like a broken record with how many times you’ve pulled that bullshit on me.” you spat, loud enough to draw commotion in the cafe. your ex has surprise written all over his face–most likely due to your non-compliance to his words. “what, do you say that shit to all your hoes?”

your ex looks around, shrinking a little when he sees all eyes are on him. “now, now, y/n, no need to be like that-”

“be like that… be like that?! you’re telling me to be civil when you’re the one coming in here wanting me back, spouting some bullshit saying that you’ve changed, when i told you to leave me alone already!” you scream, and you could feel the tears bubble up in your eyes. you look down, so you aren’t able to see how everyone’s staring at you with pity. god, you hate pity. it makes you feel weak and vulnerable. the two emotions you absolutely loathe. “i just want you to leave me alone, god. i hate you, why won’t you just-”

“you fucking bitch-” he makes a move to lunge at you, and you instinctively take a step back, pure fear enveloping your senses.

you never feel the impact, though, as you see your ex being restrained by the cafe worker.

you remember him. the man who took your order earlier. he was an older man with a warm smile on his face, although you noticed how his cheekbones were slightly sunken, and he looked a little overworked. you jokingly quipped earlier that he should get some sleep before thanking him for making your order. he just replied, i get that quite a lot.

the size difference between your ex and the man is enough to discourage him from fighting back. he makes quick work your ex, dragging him out the door while he hysterically screams profanities to you on the way out. you assumed the worker threatened to call the police, because your ex scrambled up from the ground and ran away. you hoped this was the last time you would ever see him again.

“are you okay, ma’am? he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

you didn’t even realize that the worker was back inside the cafe. everyone was gradually returning to their own businesses, with the eerie silence being replaced by casual chatter once more. you also didn’t realize how much your hands were shaking, and you huff out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “y-yeah, i’m alright, and he didn’t hit me. i just… need a minute,”

you decide that you aren’t gonna get anymore work done like this, so you pack your laptop into your bag and slump onto the seat with a sigh. you bury your face into your hands. “is it a long story?”

“oh, don’t even get me started.”

he laughs at that, and you ease up a little. “i told him i’d call the police if i ever see him around here again.”

“that’s good to hear. though i’d prefer if i never see him in my life ever again.”

he hums at your words, and he turns to look out the window. “it’s getting dark out. do you want me to call you a cab?”

“no need, i’ll call my boyf–my friend. i’ll call my friend. he’ll uh, pick me up.” you’re still so shaken up you barely even register what you said to him. your eyes are frantic as you turn your phone on and look for gojo’s name in your contacts. you don’t know why you want him to pick you up out of everybody. you could ask utahime or shoko right now, but you just wanted nothing more but to see gojo.

the bell rings again, and you flinch at the sound. thankfully, it was just another customer. the worker sighs. “well, these orders aren’t going to be done themselves. just wave me over if there are any other problems, okay?” 

you nod absentmindedly, and he turns to leave, but you stop him. “wait, sir, what’s your name?”

“kento nanami.”

“thank you so much, nanami. i appreciate it.” 

“i’m just doing my job.”

“your job is restraining crazy exes of college girls and kicking them out?”

“‘it comes with the job description.” he teases, and you laugh lightheartedly. “and your name is?”

“y/n l/n.”

“anytime, miss l/n. again, just please… call me over if anything happens.”

“will do…” you say, pressing the “call” button on gojo’s contact. the anxiety is hitting you again, and you take a shaky inhale. you’re surprised at how he picks up almost instantly. “hey… satoru? yeah, can you come pick me up, please? i know i don’t normally ask you to do something like this but-”

“did something happen?”

“a lot happened, actually… i’ll text you the address. please, just come soon.”

“of course, y/n.” you could already hear him running out the door, hearing the roar of his car engine coming to life. “i’ll be there as soon as possible.”

he gets to the cafe in five.

you wave goodbye to nanami, thanking him once more as you get in the passenger seat of gojo’s car. 

it’s not your first time inside here, but you still can’t help but admire how… expensive everything looks. or maybe you’re just looking around because you’re stalling, and you have no idea where to begin with satoru. 

however, you notice that he’s not asking you what happened, and he’s not forcing you to explain anything to him. instead, he switches the gear shift out of parking and says, “do you want me to take you home?”

your eyes widen at his words, and you shake your head no profusely. the last thing you want to be is home alone right now, mainly because your ex knows where you live. you know he most likely won’t go that far with you, especially since nanami knocked some sense into him… but the possibilities still scare you. you take a deep breath before saying your next words.

“...can you take me to your house? i-i’m sorry for asking, i just don’t want to be alone right now cause i’m terrified and-” 

“y-yeah. i’ll take you to my house.” he says, and you’ve never seen him so nervous in your life. it almost makes you laugh.

“i’ll explain everything later. i just… wanna be somewhere safe first.” somewhere safe. you find his house as a safe place. gojo doesn’t know how to react. his heart is thumping wildly out of his chest, but he makes sure to put your own comfort before his feelings.

“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he says, maintaining his cool by keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.

“but i want to, satoru…” you say. you can’t believe you’re doing this again. you’re crossing so many territories that you were so afraid to cross because of your ex. now, you think you aren’t that afraid anymore. not if you have satoru by your side. 

you place one of your cold hands on the gear stick, interlocking it with his. is he… shaking? “thank you for this.”

still. there are so many things you can’t say to him yet. you don’t know when you’ll be able to… or if you’ll ever be able to.

i love you. i love you but i’m too afraid to say it. i just hope that you’ll be able to wait for me.

“god, you’re killin’ me here, y/n.” 

that pit of uncertainty in your stomach has grown so large you feel it's about to consume you whole. you don’t think you mind much, though.

the two of you are lounging at his couch after satoru insisted on telling you to make yourself at home. there’s a movie playing, with neither of you paying attention at all, takeout on the coffee table, two glasses and a bottle of wine after gojo didn’t know what drinks to serve, and freaked out by pulling the first expensive drink out from his parents’ alcohol closet. has he never properly invited someone to his home before?

“so in short, you had a crazy ex who saw you at the coffee shop… and he was begging for you to take him back, and when you went off on him he called you a bitch and tried to hit you…” he recalls, a huge grimace on his face. “tch. the cafe worker shouldn’t have let him go like that.”

“i’m sure he learned not to mess with me after getting humiliated in public.. and nanami did more than enough for me.” you retorted, and he gave you a sour look. 

“oh, so you know the worker’s name now?” he says, and you could feel the tension build up in the air. oh. so he wants to do this with you? “what, is he your knight in shining armor?”

“he looks like he’s in his late thirties, satoru. i’m not into older guys,” you roll your eyes at his absurd questions and add, “what’s it to you anyway?”

“what’s it to me, y/n?” he repeats your words, and you could feel an argument coming, like you already didn’t have an exhaustive one with your ex. “you know how i feel about you-“

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” your voice is getting louder, all to hide your fear behind the implication of his words. you distance yourself from him on the couch.. much like how you distance yourself from letting satoru get too close to how you truly feel. “we’re not even together, satoru. you don’t get to control the guys that i talk to- hell, have you even seen yourself?”

you’re rambling, and all you want to do is shut up, but you can’t bring yourself to. “i’ve heard what our school says about you. y-you’re a playboy, right? and you only ever talk to girls because you wanna fuck them. i’m not stupid, satoru. i’m not different from any of them, right? you only chase after me because i’m playing hard to get and that pisses you off-“

“what… what are you even saying, y/n?” he asks, and it stops your rambling for a moment. you don’t know what you’re saying. you’re pouring out all the reasons why you’ve tried to push him away, the reasons why you were so afraid to give your heart to him. but now that you say them out loud, they sound outright stupid. 

“i started coming to class just to talk to you, i memorized your schedule just so i can walk you to class every morning. i buy you all your favorite food and drinks… i had to memorize your favorites too, by the way. and i have shit memory.” he’s screaming at this point, and you’ve never had satoru scream at you. there are unshed tears in his eyes, and it’s all overwhelming to watch this unfold. “and when you called me, i drove as fast as i could to you because you never call like that and i was fuckin’ worried!”

“so let me ask you a question, y/n… would i do all these things for you just because i want you in my bed?! i’d do anything for you, and you know that!” he’s crying. the gojo satoru is crying, and it’s all for a girl. if you told this to someone in your school, they’d call you a shit-faced liar. gojo satoru doesn’t cry for a girl. he makes them cry.

“i’m sorry for being skeptical, satoru! i just can’t help it when there’s so many rumors about you wanting to fuck girls just for the shit of it – and i’m conflicted on whether or not i should believe them because i want you so bad and i’m scared you’ll end up just breaking my heart and i don’t want that to happen again-”

he cuts you off. “you… what?”

you’re confused at why he looks so surprised, but then you backtrack on your words and you gasp. fuck. why did i say that? you cover your mouth and look away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.

those stupid blue eyes that you know you can’t get enough of.

“y/n… can you please say that again? i don’t want to do anything if i didn’t hear you right.” his voice is soft now, and you swear that you’re dreaming. this isn’t real. right? i’m gonna wake up soon. you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, leaving half-moon marks in their wake. it doesn’t work, and you don’t wake up, and you know you have to accept the fact that this is very real and it’s happening.

this is the worst leap of faith you think you’ve ever had to take in your life.

“i want you so fucking bad, satoru. and i’m realizing that you’re not just the stereotypical rich playboy that everyone talks about on campus—you’re a really great guy, and i guess i’m just scared to face that-” you don’t even realize that satoru’s got you cornered on the couch, and you can’t finish your words as he slots his lips against yours. hard. it’s the most passionate kiss you think you’ve ever had in your life, and it’s got your breath taken away in seconds. holy shit.

you quietly moan against his lips as you kiss back, cupping his face with your hands and wiping his tears away. you wish this moment would last forever, but you pull away so you can breathe. you meet gojo’s eyes, and they’re clouded with lust and desire, but you could tell he’s still a little uncertain. “we’ll talk later… just take me to the bedroom already,”

gojo doesn’t need another confirmation from you, and he lifts you up to carry you to his bedroom, practically tripping on his feet the way there.

a few hours later and a noise complaint from the neighbors, it’s safe to say that gojo satoru was the best one you’ve ever had.

“god, i’m never letting you go, baby.”

he’s tracing hearts onto your bare back. it’s littered with bruises and red scratch marks just from a few minutes ago, but you’ve never felt better in your life. you stare at the man who invited himself into your life just from an encounter at a party, and you thank your lucky stars that you agreed to go with utahime that night. “is something wrong? you’re starin’ again.”

“i’m sorry it took me so long to trust you. i’ve just been scared to open up my heart again, especially after him.” you don’t have to name “him” for satoru to understand. 

“i’m sorry too. i just got angry about the rumors and i also disregarded the fact that you’re scared to love again after your ex did all of that shit and-” he pauses, and sighs. “sorry. i’m rambling again.” 

he pulls you into another kiss, and this time, it’s sweeter, lighter, and full of love. “i’m going to show you what it looks like to really be loved, because it’s definitely not the shitty picture that your ex painted in your head. there’s way more to it than that.”

“i love you, y/n.”

“thank you, toru.” you whisper. maybe, one day, you’ll be able to find the courage to say it back. and it’s okay, because gojo is willing to wait an eternity for you. 

he’ll wait an eternity for you to teach you how to love again.

“look at how beautiful you are…” gojo says, appearing out of nowhere as he wraps an arm around your waist. you yelp, staring at your boyfriend through the mirror. he’s wearing a classic black tuxedo, with no doubt it being very expensive. it compliments the glimmering rolex on his wrist, and the thoughts running through your head about him and his outfit sets fire to your stomach.

“look at yourself first, toru… god, we should just stay home,” you tease, turning around to pull him into a deep kiss. it’s a friday, and gojo’s taking you out to attend geto’s party tonight. the two of you are going for several reasons. he wants to introduce you to his bestfriend, since you realized that you’ve never actually formally met geto before. it’ll also be your first formal “couple appearance”, as if gojo being attached to your side all the time doesn’t say enough about the two of you already. 

gojo pulls away, which surprises you. you pout at the expression on his face. “as much as i want to, suguru’s been bugging about you all week. i really do think it’s time for you to meet him,”

“hmph. alright.” 

“i’m tearing that dress off of you the second we get home, though.”

“satoru!”

“what?! not my fault my girl looks so damn hot all the time!”

this night is going amazing.

when satoru walks with you through the front doors, arm wrapped around your waist and the dress you picked out for tonight glimmering, you feel a little shy. the guys all whistle at the two of you, and the girls whisper amongst each other, but you and gojo don’t care. in his eyes, you’re the only girl he sees. the only girl worth being with here. 

“wanna go get drinks?” he asks you, cerulean eyes showing underneath his sunglasses. you nod, walking to the kitchen with him. you’re getting severe deja vu… you can’t believe you met gojo at the last party you were at. and now you’re at another party, with gojo as your date. you scan the crowd for utahime or shoko, wondering what you would say to them if they saw you with the man they specifically told you not to mess with.

it’s alright, though. shoko was wrong about those rumors, and gojo’s proving it to you.

“satoru!” the playful voice greets your boyfriend, and you turn to see geto suguru. you’ve seen him around campus, and he sits somewhere in the back of your chem class. you haven’t really had the opportunity to talk to him, though… and he looks a little intimidating.

“you must be y/n,” he says, offering you a freshly opened smirnoff from the drinks on the countertop. you thank him and grab the drink, taking a swig.

“yup! my lovely girlfriend,” gojo lets go of his arm around your waist to grab a drink. 

“you probably don’t know this, but i’ve been his wingman.” he smiles at gojo, who’s pouting, like he’s preparing himself for what suguru is about to say. “he’s batshit crazy for you, its insane.”

“oh? do tell.”

“when the two of you got together, he left me a voicemail at like… four in the morning? anyway, he was screaming about how he was the happiest guy in the world… or something.”

“that’s because i was!” you’re laughing at how unashamed satoru is about this.

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” geto clicks his tongue, pulling out his phone. “and he’s reposted you on insta to like, every drake song-”

“alright, me and y/n are gonna go dance.” he interrupts suguru, and drags you away from his best friend with a yelp. “nice talkin’ to you, suguru!”

“hey, i wanted to know more!-”

“shh, you don’t need to know about all of that.” the two of you are in the living room, in the midst of all the bodies dancing and grinding against each other. he pulls you close to him, and you feel his hot breath against your neck. “you look so beautiful tonight, y/n.”

“same for you, handsome. let’s dance, shall we?” you wrap your arms around him and just sway to the beat. you’ve never been much of a dancer, but everything feels natural as long as gojo’s with you. 

suddenly, the music changes, and one dance starts playing. you two look at each other, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. “have you reposted me to this song?”

“duh. it’s a classic.”

“can’t disagree with that.” you say, finding yourself grinding against satoru while wizkid’s part plays in the background. it feels like such a perfect night–you’re pulling satoru into a deep kiss, and he shoves his tongue down your throat while he’s leading you to a nearby couch. you’re seated on his lap, mimicking practically every couple in this party tonight. 

suddenly, you pull away, and you whisper, “i need to use the bathroom.” 

satoru smirks at your words, thinking that it’s a hint for something else, and you give him a sour face. “want me to join you-”

you hit his chest playfully. “that’s not code for anything, you perv. i actually need to piss.” 

he’s pouting at your words, but he lets you off his lap anyway, and holds your drink for the time being. “it’s at the second door in the hall to your right. be quick, please.”

“no duh. i’ve got a cute date to come back to,” you say, walking away and traversing all of the bodies that smell like sweat and alcohol. you’re a little unused to this environment, but it���s alright. you fix up your makeup in the bathroom and freshen up a little, walking back to the living room to find satoru again. 

you wish you never did.

you were gone for four minutes. five minutes max. you come back to satoru, and your breath hitches at the sight.

on his lap was a random chick that looked like every other girl at this party. she was practically naked, since her outfit didn’t do much to cover her skin at all.

fuck.

you remember the first time you saw gojo at the last party you went to. the sight wasn’t that different compared to the one now. there were girls all over him, all fighting for his attention. and yet, it seemed that night, his attention was focused solely on you.

what bullshit that was.

your eyes are blurry, and the music is muffled in your ears. white noise fills your senses, and all you want to do right now is run.

so you do.

you run, not caring if gojo saw you at all or not. you run out of the party, eternally grateful that you didn’t pick out heels for tonight and settled for much simpler shoes. you run, despite the fact that you drew geto’s attention. you were already out the door before he could ask what was wrong. you run, just wanting to get away from everyone and everything. you run with no particular destination in mind. you stop running when you almost get run over on a red light, the car honking at you–screaming profanities as it drives by. it breaks you from your trance, and you sit on the curb of the sidewalk, letting all of your tears out on what was supposed to be a perfect night.

of course gojo didn’t think that you were different. you were just like every other girl to him.

stupid. stupid. stupid. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life.

when geto sees you running out the door with unshed tears in your eyes, he immediately panics. what the hell happened?

he goes through every room of the house, trying to find gojo, when he hears a bunch of commotion in the living room. he runs there, pushing past everyone, only to find a total disaster inside.

he sees gojo screaming at a girl dressed like a stripper, who was on the ground with tears in her eyes. satoru looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel with how pissed he looks. there’s a crowd forming at this point, and geto knows he needs to intervene, so he drags his bestfriend away, who looks so distraught that geto could just wonder what the fuck happened.

they’re outside now, and its significantly a lot more quiet out here compared to all of the chaos inside. all the noise is coming from gojo—who won’t stop crying, and geto has no idea what to do or where to even begin. “fuck!”

“dude, what the fuck happened!?” satoru looks like he’s feeling every emotion at once. he looks pissed, pissed enough to punch a wall, and geto’s a little afraid that gojo might actually do that–or worst-case scenario, punch him. he’s crying, and geto hasn’t seen gojo cry ever since he fell off a swing in pre-k, so what happened must be really fucking serious.

“i don’t KNOW what happened, goddamnit! y/n went to use the bathroom and some slu- some girl came up to me and threw herself on my fucking lap! i was gonna tell her to fuck off but y/n saw before i was able to and now she’s gone and she probably thinks that i’m just some cheater when i’ve worked so hard to get her to trust me and-FUCK!”

he stops, trying to calm down a little, and gojo takes the shakiest breath he thinks he’s ever taken in his life. the red in his vision starts to fade, but he still feels helpless. “i just don’t know what to fucking do, suguru.” 

“i just saw y/n run out of my house a few minutes ago.” he says with a grimace, and he’s trying to figure out what to tell his bestfriend. “i’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. holy shit, you really love her, do you?”

geto thinks that gojo’s bloodshot eyes, the brutal names that he called that girl at the party, and the tears he’s shed for you are already an answer.

“this is your last chance to prove it to her, satoru.” geto fumbles through his pockets and hands him the keys to his challenger. gojo snatches them, hearing the car engine rumbling itself to life. the white-haired man thanks his best friend as he steps into the drivers’ side, with geto reassuring him, ‘ill deal with the chaos inside, you go ahead and explain yourself to your girlfriend’.

gojo swears that he’s never driven so fast in his whole life.

part 2 ;)

[antiquarianfics]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Jealousy is a green-eyed monster, or so they say. You’d argue that jealousy is actually a blue-eyed, one-armed, super soldier.

A/N: 1989 (Taylor’s Version) announcement led to this. You’re welcome! Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader Warnings: Swearing, sexual innuendo. Note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to repost or copy my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

—

“Boys only want love if it’s torture.” —Taylor Swift

You are incredibly aware of Bucky Barnes’ infatuation with you. You aren’t blind to his gaze; you aren’t deaf to his words. Bucky Barnes is in love with you—and he refuses to admit it.

You are also incredibly aware of Bucky Barnes’ tendency to distance himself from good things. He is a man who believes he deserves the worst; he is a man who does not believe he is worth loving. Bucky Barnes will accept hate all day, every day. He won’t accept love.

So, clearly, he will not act on his feelings unless it’s absolute torture. Right?

This idea you latched onto days before is what got you into your current situation: flirting obnoxiously with John Walker and letting the man put his hands all over you.

“If this isn’t torture for him,” you think, “it’s at least torture for me.”

You chance a glance at Bucky across the room. He is clearly displeased with the development between Walker and yourself.

Ever since Walker was introduced to Sam, Bucky, and yourself, you were all off put by his overconfident, entitled behavior. You all agree he does not deserve to carry Steve’s shield—he does not deserve to be called Captain America. So, flirting with Walker, you know, is absolutely a sure way to get under Bucky’s skin.

You weren’t quite prepared for how uncomfortable it is making you, however.

“So, what do you say, sexy? Want to celebrate when we win this fight?” Walker flashes you what he clearly thinks is a charming smile.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Bucky tense; his enhanced hearing picking up Walker’s innuendo. You take it to mean your plan is working.

—

“For the love of god, Barnes, just go tell her how you feel. It’s the quickest way to get her to stop talking to him!” Sam berates Bucky. Frankly, he’s sick of this will-they-won’t-they game you and Bucky are playing.

“No,” Bucky says simply, clenching his jaw and causing Same to groan.

“Why the hell not?”

Bucky doesn’t respond.

“She’s trying to make you jealous. You know that, right? She is intentionally torturing you so that you’ll man the fuck up and make a move.”

Bucky glares at Sam.

“That’s not what she’s doing.”

“Oh, yeah?” Sam challenges. “You think she looks happy to have Walker touching her and making suggestive comments?”

Bucky purses his lips and turns to stare at you again. He is keenly aware that you tense up every time Walker touches you and that you clench your jaw whenever he insinuates anything.

“Because I don’t think she’d be glancing over here to see your reaction if she was actually interested Walker over there.”

Bucky shoots Sam another annoyed look before returning his gaze to you. That’s when he makes eye contact with you.

You raise an eyebrow. He keeps his face stoic. You smirk. He scrunches his eyebrows. You keep a watchful eye on him while you stand on your tip toes to reach Walker’s ear, whispering something unintelligible to Bucky.

Walker’s eyebrows shoot up before looking at you with shocked, yet excited, eyes.

“Damn. Yeah. I, uh, I’ve got a good 20 minutes before I have to head out. We can go to my car?”

Bucky’s neck turns red as anger creeps through his body when he catches Walker’s words. It’s the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak.

Boys only want love if it’s torture.

—

You inwardly cheer when you see Bucky start towards you with a furious look on his face.

You back away from Walker, pretending to mull over his proposition as you let Bucky reach you.

Bucky shoves Walker out of the way and plants himself directly in front of you. His hands reach to your face, holding either side so gently—a direct contrast to the aggressive demeanor he carried on his trek to you. He leans in and kisses you passionately.

Bucky’s lips on yours is everything you hoped it would be: euphoric. His lips feel pillowy against yours, albeit slightly chapped. The force of his lips connecting with yours is gentle enough not to hurt you but aggressive enough to tell you he wants you. His teeth gently pulling your bottom lip between his makes you weak in the knees, and you can’t help but gasp.

It’s perfect. He’s perfect.

Your arms quickly snake around his neck, eyes fluttering shut. You let him keep control of the kiss—you’d tortured him enough—and only pull away when you desperately need to breathe.

As your lips disconnect, he rests his forehead against your own, but he stays silent.

“Well, hey there, Sarge,” you tease. “That was quite the hello.”

Bucky scoffs.

“Don’t be coy, Doll. I know what you were doing.”

“What was I doing?”

“You know.”

“I don’t. You should tell me.”

“You were torturing me.”

“I wasn’t doing anything to you, Bucky. I wasn’t even talking to you!” You allow your tone to remain playful while you deny any scheming that took place.

“You were talking to him,” he says with disgust.

“I can talk to whomever I please,” you point out.

“Not men who want to take what’s mine,” Bucky grumbles before connecting your lips again:

“Yours?”

Bucky nods, “If you want to be.”

“Obviously. Took you long enough. Can’t believe you made me flirt with Walker to get your attention.”

“Shut up.”

[imaginesmai]

Taken - Azriel

This is long and this is messy. I don't know where this came out, but shoutout to @marscardigan because she requested this fic so long ago I almost forgot. Enjoy the ANGST.

This is a fic inside the baker!reader universe from Right around the corner. You don't need to read the fics to understand but it will help you!

Plot: you're taken in the worst possible situation, and Azriel fights against time to find you.

Warnings: pregnant!reader, blood, wounds, death (not main characters).

You should have closed the bakery a while ago, you knew. You should have also taken a few days off and relay on Elain a bit more. As a matter of a fact, there was a long list of things you should have done better, most of them converged in the last month, but you were busy. And stubborn.

A very busy, very stubborn, very pregnant baker who was closing the bakery way too late.

You had been lucky that morning when you had won the first argument. It was Nyx birthday in a few days, and the boy wanted a special cake with the shadows of his uncle. And you had been working on it even if you were supposed to be on house arrest, only because Azriel was with you at all given time.

But that day, your mate had a meeting and he couldn’t stay with you, so originally you weren’t supposed to go. Originally. Since Azriel loved Nyx as much as you, he had agreed to leave you at the bakery on your own and not chain you to bed.

You hoped that agreement was still valid if he discovered how late it was.

“Alright” you muttered, looking down at the cake with your hands resting on your swollen belly. “I think it’s coming just fine, huh? One more floor and it’ll be the event of the year”

The cake had a base covered in black chocolate, small curls that simulated shadows coming from the bottom. You had already finished the worst part, and had the rest of the shadows ready in the oven for tomorrow.

While you admired your work, you rubbed your hands absentmindedly across your stomach. At the beginning on the third trimester, you looked ready to give birth. Maybe it was because of the wings, or maybe the baby already took upon his father’s size.

“I hope your tastes are less expensive than your cousin’s” you said, smiling when your rubs were answered by a strong kick. “That didn’t feel like agreeing”

The shadows that were already yours pushed you once more to the door, like they had been doing for the past hours, since the sun came down. Raising your hands up in defeat, you took the first step back home.

“Alright, I’m going. I’m going” you chuckled as they pressed more urgently now that you started walking. “I’m fine, it’s late but I’m finishing. Promise to put my feet up when I get home”

Talking with the shadows and with your baby was as common as talking to yourself. Just as Azriel, you seemed to understand what they wanted to tell you. You endured their constant tugging and pulling as you closed off the bakery.

Only when the door was locked and you turned to take the few steps to your house, you realized just how late it was.

“Oh” you blinked, looking around you. The babe sent another, softer kick.

The street was empty, the night silent. Not even the few cats that purred in the shadows happened to be there that night. Even though it was a summer night, you wrapped your arms around yourself as you put the key on your pocket and took the already usual wobbly steps.

At any given moment, you liked to think, you would have been more aware. Azriel had trained you for it, his family had too in the last years. But still, that one time you would have used any of that training, you couldn’t.

Your hand only made it to the knock of your door when the faebane arrow went clean through your shoulder. A clothe covered your mouth as the few shadows tried to blind whoever was behind you, not given you any time to scream or call for help. Gripping onto the last thread of consciousness, you tugged on the bond.

-

The meeting was taking far longer than what he would have liked.

It was supposed to be easy, to talk the problems out and to let Keir go with a warning. That was why Rhysand had asked him to come along, so that his shadows would snoop around while the male was busy. Because, if the high lord had known it would take so long, he wouldn’t have dared to separate Azriel from you.

Since you both solved your last argument, things had gotten better. He was ready to give himself to you, to become a better man for you and to be what you needed. And seven months ago, it had kept going – you were pregnant, with his child.

And if Azriel thought you were beautiful before, watching your body swell with a new life, watching you become a mother, made you perfect. The thought of you and your future child was what kept him put during hours.

He had known you were at the bakery alone; had known he was supposed to be home before dinner. But he waited, because he didn’t have a reason not to. Azriel felt a tug at the bond during the meeting, and sent a reassuring pull back.

He waited, until Keir left and he put a foot out of Hewn City. Cassian was waiting for them with his arms crossed, his back to their brothers.

“Missed us much?” Rhysand teased, letting himself smile for the first time in that day. “Is staying with – what’s wrong?”

Cassian turned around and his face fell. Azriel recognized earlier than Rhysand the fall of his shoulders, the slump on his wings. There was tension and pain written all over his face. His spymaster-mind ran over a few possibilities before his brother locked eyes with him – an attack to Velaris, an update about Beron’s plans, the revolution in the human’s lands. He even had time to worry about Nyx.

Then, he locked eyes and his breath got stuck in his throat.

“What?” he blurted out. The look on Cassian’s face threatened to swallow him down a spiral of panic. “Cassian, what?”

“What happened?” Rhysand asked, although he was already reading the general’s mind.

“Y/N’s been taken. Don’t know where yet or why” the general spoke, without dropping Azriel’s burning gaze. “I’ve got guards up in the sky and through Velaris”

“Taken?” the high lord asked again, frowning.

“Your shadows came into the wind house, somehow… Nyx knows. He told us what they saw. We are looking for her already, don’t panic. We will find her”

Rhysand could see through Cassian’s eyes, the burst of Azriel’s shadows and a crying Nyx in his room, waking him up. His son telling him about the shadows warning him in his sleep, asking the general if it was true and why they said that.

He looked at Azriel, who looked as pale as the bone wall behind them. The Illyrian tried to come up with something to say, just as he had done in so many similar occasions. It was him who remained calm when Rhysand went under the mountain, when Nyx’s life was threatened just after he was born. Azriel made plans, he was a skilled warrior.

Still, he could only tug on the bond and horrify at the emptiness that came back.

“I can’t feel her” he confessed, finally looking away from Cassian to Rhysand. “Why? Why can’t I feel her?”

“She isn’t dead” his brother answered immediately. “You would know. It’s the faebane, you won’t feel her if they have used it. Cassian, what do we know?”

“No smells, no traces. Bakery was empty and her apartment too. They must have taken her in between”

“Who would fucking take a pregnant woman?” Azriel blurted out. “She’s pregnant. She’s – fuck! In between? It’s – it’s two steps! There’s no space in between!”

“What else?” Rhysand ignored him.

“They sent a note”

Azriel’s panic died down for a moment when Cassian handed his high lord the note. He quickly snatched it away. Barely able to keep in place, he turned his back to his brothers and shamelessly used his shadows in his favor.

He heard his name being called, felt Rhysand demanding to be let in. His own power wasn’t a match for the high lord’s, but it would keep them out enough to read the note.

One of the first rules he applied when it came to kidnappings was to keep the family and loved ones out of it. They didn’t think clearly, and without wanting to, could endanger the victim. But it wasn’t just a person, it was you.

So, ignoring his own rules, he opened the note.

If you want Y/N and the baby safe, the spymaster will present himself at the given coordinates before sunrise. Impaled with faebane and with no hidden tricks. Once we deem so, we will deliver the girl in Windhaven.

Each hour past sunrise will be paid. Don’t be late.

We do not appreciate being hunted.

There were words, that made sentences, and that should have made sense. But all Azriel could see was your name, the word baby, and feel his chest tighten. That wasn’t a clue, there was no way they would find them before sunrise and bring you home to him. Right then, he understood why they kept family out of those types of matters.

The note was snatched out of his hands by a very angry looking Rhysand, with a pained Cassian behind his back.

As Rhysand read the note, Azriel let himself have a moment of sorrow. He turned every emotion upside down, explored them instead of refusing to acknowledge. For years, he had feared the possibility of you being taken from his side. There would be time to panic once he had you in his arms, to worry about the baby once he could touch your belly once more and check your pulse and breathing.

Azriel tugged on the bond once more, feeling the crushing emptiness back. There was nothing, and he was threatened to become nothing too. Instead, he tugged on the faint, thin bond that was still developing. It was barely a thread of your own, fragile but promising.

The bond with your child had been the cause of your discovery. One day it was only the two of you, and then Azriel felt something else. He tugged on that and, even if he didn’t receive anything back, he knew.

“They’re in the mountains” he looked at his brothers. “Can’t say where, but far from Windhaven”

“How are you sure?” Cassian asked, but Rhysand smiled knowingly. Sadly.

“The other bond. You shouldn’t pull too hard, Az. It’s – “

“I won’t. But I’m not letting one second go if I can find her” Azriel cut him off with a hard look. “You’re wasting your time in Velaris”

“Don’t you dare, Az”

Cassian words were lost in the wind as he winnowed away, Rhysand barely touching his forearm. He knew he shouldn’t tug on the bond so soon in his child’s life, that it would only put him at risk. Risk an early labor, risk your discomfort. But if it meant it would take him back to you, he would rip the word apart piece by piece.

-

You didn’t know how, but after all those years, all those good memories built that replaced the bad ones, you just knew. You recognized the painted walls, the stains on the ground, and the smell from the fire.

Nothing had changed over the centuries that had passed by, you realized. The tavern was just as terrible as it had been, just as dirty. They were just as tall and broad as they were, although not that many. And you were that scared girl that they ripped their wings from, tucked into a corner.

While they stared at you, you only hug your belly and tried to keep your tears at bay.

You had woken up a while ago, and they had only whispered between them. From what you had gathered, they didn’t expect the pregnancy, and were worried about it. The one who had clipped your wings so long ago wasn’t around, thanks to Azriel, but you recognized their faces.

You also recognized the blood stains on the ground and walls, courtesy of your mate and probably the reason you were in that position.

“It has closed” one of them broke the silence, frowning. “Why has it closed so soon? We just took it out”

“Must be the babe” the taller one, whom you remembered to be called Sandor, shrugged.

“It’s the third time – “

“All right, girl, you already know to stay put” Sandor sighed, as if it was a simple routine.

You refused to talk, refused to anger them just like you had done in the past and pay for your actions. It wasn’t just your life in the game, and right then, your priority wasn’t it.

With only the moon light through the window, Sandor knelt in front of you and grabbed a clean arrow. Two bloodied ones were discarded on the ground, ripped out of your shoulder and arm. Apparently, they didn’t want to risk you healing around the arrow, in case it would somehow affect the baby.

That didn’t mean they weren’t willing to stick another one once the wound was closed and there was a chance of Azriel feeling you through the bond.

For a moment, Sandor hesitated. It was clear that he wasn’t comfortable about your belly or the situation. Hurting you to get Azriel might had been fine, but hurting pregnant-you was debatable.

“Just do it, man. You might already ring the bells and light a bonfire” the nameless one snapped.

“Do you want to do it?” Sandor turned around on his knees. “Clyde, I’ve got a pregnant woman at home. And she looks ready to burst”

“It’s not your woman, it’s his. Do you want to stare at what used to be Burton?” Clyde pointed to the darkest stain. “Tell him if he wants to consider, take his time”

As they argued, you finally felt it. A tug, a breeze, nothing more than a feeling, but it was there. It was Azriel pulling at the bond like his life depended on it, with so much strength you were sure he was using power that wasn’t only his.

You blinked surprised at the change. It had taken you all your willpower not to panic when you woke up feeling nothing on the other side, and they hadn’t let enough time for your body to recover from the fae bane to feel it again. But as they argued, you silently cherished the discovery. Maybe it was the baby’s strength, maybe it was the cauldron leaning in your favor or any other force, but not only you were healing fast – you were getting the bond back.

Still looking at them, you tugged back. The bond went silent for a second, and you pressed against it again. You were hit with an overwhelming amount of worry, of fear but also love and relief. Azriel’s emotions became yours, and you were so glad it was about to be over that you unfocused your gaze.

It was enough for Clyde to notice your far-away look, and realize what was happening.

“Fuck, she’s warning him!” Clyde rushed forwards, taking the arrow out of Sandor’s grip. “You think you’re so smart?”

You blinked your fogginess away when he walked towards you, coming back to your senses. There wasn’t enough amount of love or assurance Azriel could send you that would stop you from panicking.

“No, wait” you pushed yourself farther into the corner as he moved closer, screaming at Azriel as loud as you could through the watered bond. “I didn’t! I didn’t!”

“You knocked-up, useless, brat” he gripped your ankle and pushed you towards him, your back and head hitting the ground. “Let’s see how you tell him this”

The momentary pain of hitting the ground wasn’t enough to drown the anguish of having a new arrow dug into your leg, just above your knee. The ceiling became blurry and his voices tuned out as you screamed in pain, your bounded hands trying aimlessly to break free.

You couldn’t remember the pain from the first one, seeing you were knocked out, and Sandor had managed to make the other one hurt less. But Clyde pushed his body weight onto your leg, the bottom of the arrow piercing the ground. You looked up and watched horrified as blood started leaking out through your pants and under your leg.

Moving away from him only caused the arrow to shift, but being near him was putting your baby close to the monster. So, in your panic, you tried to ease the pain by lifting your leg while shifting farther into the corner.

“How’s the bond now, uh? Is your pussy boy there?” he chuckled, while Sandor looked away. “Go on, tell him how bad we are”

“We should move” the third one spoke for the first time. “If he has felt her, he knows”

“You heard the boss” rough hands tried to push you up while you cried out.

“No” you repeated, letting Clyde put your whole weight up and almost collapsing after him. “Please, just let me go. Let me go”

Gone was the keep-quiet-don’t-talk. The tears kept rolling down your cheeks as Sandor stepped on your other side, holding you up a bit gentler than Clyde. Your baby started kicking on your side, and between the pain and desperation, you felt like throwing up and passing out.

Their chatter as they discussed what to do next was background noise. Certainly, they weren’t taking the arrow out that time, risk or no risk of being sealed inside and affecting the baby. You could barely stand up between your kidnappers and remember how to breath at the same time.

You wanted Azriel, that was the only thing you were certain. You shouldn’t have closed so late, you shouldn’t have gone to the bakery on your own, and you shouldn’t have gotten out of bed that morning. The baby agreed with you, answering each thought with a powerful kick to your kidneys and bladder.

You tried desperately to think about positive things, to keep yourself sane enough. Closing your eyes, you thought about him. His hazel eyes, that shone with a special light when he saw you between the crowd. His mouth, that curled up so lightly every time you stared at him. The freckles in his cheeks, that one that snuck up to the corner of his eye.

You could almost hear his voice reminding you to breath carefully and gain control of your body when the pregnancy pain hit, and you tried to do the same. Taking a deep breath through your mouth, holding it in. Letting it go through your nose.

“Oh, sure, because winnowing her again is the best solution, right?” Sandor scoffed loudly.

You moved your toes lightly, relieved to notice that despite the burning and overwhelming pain, you could still feel everything. From your feet to your head, you twitched every part of your body, finally able to breathe through the pain.

That didn’t mean you could move without them hauling you up, or that the baby was anymore happy.

“Enough! We’re moving now. Grab the things. We winnow – “ the anonymous man startled you, making you look up.

“I need to go the bathroom” you whispered, although it was heard as if you shouted it.

Three pair of eyes looked at you with raised brows, one pair certainly more annoyed than the other two. You didn’t know how far had it been since they took you, but it was still night time. During the last weeks, you had been paying a visit to your bathroom at least once every two hours.

And that was being generous.

The babe kicked again against your bladder, making your knees wobble. If you didn’t catch a bathroom, in a minute, you would have to let go.

“Sure. Do you want me run a bath too? Clyde, you could massage her feet. Is our lady tired of standing up for so long?”

“Nestor, she’s pregnant” Sandor was the only one looking slightly affected by your request. “My Lorren – “

“Your Lorren is home and we are here. Stop with Lorren!” Clyde let you go to push Sandor’s shoulders, which made you stumble back.

“I’m not carrying her if she’s gonna pee herself”

“She’s gonna be a big girl and hold it, right?” Nestor gave you a tense smile. “And you’re going to winnow her to the cabin”

“I’m not taking her to the cabin, man”

And while you stood up and waited for them to decided where to take you, you felt your bladder giving up. It wouldn’t be the first time you peed yourself, and with the strength your baby was kicking you right then, you were amazed that you managed to hold it for a few seconds.

Clyde and Nestor kept arguing loudly about the cabin, while Sandor just looked at you with a scrunched nose. You would have felt embarrassed, but you were in pain, you were scared and tired. It was hard to stay standing at any given moment with your belly. Whether it was the wings or the baby’s size, you were heavy.

The discomfort of the arrow was starting to become secondary. Even though you had just peed yourself, you still felt the kicks against your bladder – and almost against every part of your soul. You gripped the only thing available when another wave of kicks hit you, that being Sandor’s arm.

The man realized at the same time you did what was happening, although he didn’t have time to voice it out.

“Damn it!” Clyde barely missed the door coming out of its hinges. He didn’t miss the knife that embedded itself on his throat.

“Sandor, shoot him!” Nestor yelled to his friend, who was too busy keeping you off the ground now that the only support was holding his open neck. “Shoot!”

“Pathetic”

His voice was like a cold breeze in the summer, the feeling of his shadows helping you gently to stand up making your breath speed up once more.

Azriel appeared like a dark angel through the open door, his eyes not even leaving you as he stopped an arrow with his bare hand. His wings covered the moon behind him, but they didn’t stop the next figure coming through. Before Clyde hit the ground still chocking on his last breath, Rhysand had winnowed himself and Nestor out of the tavern.

You briefly wondered if death by Azriel’s hands right then would have been better than by the spymaster’s hands later.

Your mate said nothing as Sandor was ripped out of your side. Only by gripping his arm and pulling him away from you, you heard the awful crack of his arm breaking into two.

Sandor cried out, only getting a few seconds to acknowledge his arm before his left wing is ripped out of his back. Azriel’s shadows assessed your body with a sickening speed, coming to the same conclusion you had.

You were lowered softly onto the ground, silently watching what Azriel had always hidden from you. The unleveled part of him, the one that came out when someone he loved was in danger. He feared that part would take you away from him. But as you watched your mate tear Sandor to pieces, you only felt relief at his presence.

The male wasn’t done screaming for his life when he fell dead to the side. His mangled body was blocked from your view by training leathers and tearful hazel eyes. Everything he had felt during the last hours, that he had denied himself from so he would find you, crashed hard.

His scarred hands held your face while he scanned your body, stopping on your untouched belly and bleeding wound. He didn’t even flinch when he touched your soaked pants to pull it out.

The pain you were in in that moment prevented you from feeling anything more than a discomfort at the pull.

“You’re alive” Azriel cried out, not holding his tears back. “I thought – for a moment, I thought… I couldn’t feel you. And then I did, but you were gone. I didn’t know what had happened. I almost died, Y/N. You’re alive. You’re okay”

“Az” you whined, one of your hands gripping his shoulder harder than it was necessary.

“The baby’s bond… I followed it to the mountains. I know I shouldn’t, but I pulled it” he placed one hand on your belly, laughing tearfully when he felt a kick back. “I love you. I love you both so much”

There weren’t words to explain what Azriel had felt in the last few hours. How he had stumbled down into the snow when he had felt your end of the bond alive, how desperate he had been to follow it. Then, it had gone dark and if it wasn’t for Rhysand following him, he would have crashed right there.

He was glad his brother had been there, that he had taken a male away for questioning. Once you were safe and with Madja, he would make sure to take his time.

Azriel pressed a shaky, wet kiss to your forehead, then another one to your nose. He kissed each and every tear that had stained your cheeks in the past hour, finally pressing his lips against yours.

When he moved back, ready to winnow you both back to Velaris and hold you close for a week, he was surprised to see new tears running down your cheeks. What he thought was terror for the kidnapping, the anguish of your captors, hadn’t left your face.

“What’s wrong?” he frowned, leaving his own despair for later and looking back at your body.

“Az” you repeated.

You had realized what was happening before him, had known just before Sandor. His shadows couldn’t possibly understand what was happening, and so, Azriel didn’t. Any pain you had felt during that night paled away from the complete, absolute fear the crippled you as you stared at your mate in that dark tavern, where your worst memories had taken place.

“I’m here” he reminded you, his hand caressing the belly. “Where does it –“

“It’s coming” you finally admitted, watching the realization hitting him. “The baby’s coming”

It had felt like peeing yourself, like normal kicks, you guessed. What had given it away was crippling, motherly realization that your baby wanted out. That bond that had connected you to it was more present than ever, and somehow, you knew.

Azriel paled even more if that was possible. Right there, sitting in the dirty, bloodied and now empty tavern, your water had broken. You wanted to break down crying, because of course, given your history your baby would choose that moment.

When Azriel didn’t say anything, you lip wobbled again. Because, if he didn’t have the answers, who would?

“It’s coming” you said again, feeling like a broken record. “What do we do? What -?”

“I’ll winnow us to Velaris” Azriel interrupted you, knowing the answer before saying it.

“Madja said we can’t” you reminded him, although he already knew. “Oh God. Az, it’s coming. What do we do? I’m having a baby. I’m having a baby!”

Indeed, one of the first things Madja had advised you against was winnowing while pregnant. So close to the date, it would only trigger an early labor – and on the date, it would be dangerous to the baby and you. Rhysand would be back in Velaris by then, probably thinking you two were just fine and happy together once more.

And winnowing away to warn him and bring someone was out of the equation, since he wouldn’t be leaving you for a while now.

So Azriel gathered himself together and gave you a hesitant smile.

“We can do it” Azriel whispered, not sure of the truth behind his words.

“What?”

“I’m not leaving you. We’re here together, and we can do it. Madja told us what it’s like” Azriel tried to sound confident for you, for the both of you, but it came out as a question.

“We’re having a baby”

“We’re having a baby”

The first rays of sun entered through the empty space where the door was as you stared into his eyes. You could risk winnowing back and losing the baby and your life, or you could send away Azriel and hope he made it in time back with Madja or any other healer. Neither of those options felt like surviving to you, so you nodded at him and willed that tear to be the last one.

Azriel leaned in and kissed you softly. His lips were salty, from his tears or your own, and kind. While his shadows brushed every available part of your body, you let yourself forget about the closing wound, about the trembling of your knees and the pain in your belly.

Kissing him would always feel like the first time, like fireworks and Starfall. His nosed brushed your own and his tongue deepened the kiss. One of his hands cupped the back of your head, the hair there already covered in sweat. Even it was cold with the morning breeze, you were ready to get out of your body.

The kiss ended way too soon, just as another kick, or contraction, hit you harder than before. You sucked a breath and almost stumbled to the ground.

Azriel was quick to roll his sleeves up, lowering you until you were laying on the ground. Looking up at him, he gave you reassuring smile and hesitant nod.

“We’re having a baby” he squeezed your shoulder.

You tried to smile as another contraction hit and the first scream broke the silent morning.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

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@lesliemurillo @impossibelle @polli05927 @florencemtrash @going-through-shit @minakay @setayeshmohseni @torchbearerkyle @esposadomd @amysangel @kennedy-brooke @originalcrusadetrash @luvmoo @historygeekqueen @marriedtolike18fictionalmen @wallacewillow0773638 @tothestarsandwhateverend @kristalhi @knmendiola @nikt-wazny-y @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @wallacewillow0773638 @clara-geekhime @kalulakunundrum @saltedcoffeescotch @originalcrusadetrash @mel-wcst @ailyr92 @bubybubsters @chickensrock3 @tothestarsandwhateverend @topaz125 @wallacewillow0773638 @just-m-2 @theravenphoenix26 @glitterypirateduck @a-frog-with-a-laptop @justdreamstars

[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (4)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, shitty boyfriend, the reader doesn’t take shit from no one, sexy mobsters, slow burn (kinda), implied character's death

A/N: This is a shorter, interlude chapter. I wanted to go straight for the smut but decided against it because…I’m a tease :)

Indecent Proposal (3)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

“What’s this?” Steve holds up your scrapbook. “That’s pretty. It looks like you put a lot of effort into this book.”

“It’s a scrapbook,” you sigh, and grab the book. “Forget it. Whatever I dreamed of back then will never come true. Maybe I should burn it.”

“What do you mean, doll?” Bucky worriedly places his hand on your shoulder. “What did you dream of? And why do you think this will never come true?”

You sigh again. “Mr. Barnes, with all due respect, look at the mess my life is right now. My boyfriend sold me to you. And whatever you want from me is far from love. All you want is my womb.”

Steve frowns deeply. They didn’t think so far. All they had in mind was to make you theirs and fill you up. “Doll…we…” Steve shakes his head. “Buck?”

You wave them off. “No biggie. Life fucks you over most of the time. It could be worse, right? Scott could’ve cheated on me with his ex and sold me to his bosses.” You chuckle darkly. “Oh-wait. He just did that.”

“Y/N, we are not so bad,” Bucky grins at you. “We promise to never cheat on you. You are the missing piece Stevie, and I were looking for all our lives.”

You sneer. “Let’s try to be painfully honest. You want to stuff me with dick and knock me up. There is no way out for me. How could I escape you and your husband?”

You walk toward your bedroom, ignoring their boring looks. If they force you to accept your fate, you won’t roll over and just take it.

“You stole her scrapbook?” Bucky grins as his husband thumbs through your scrapbook. “You are a dangerous man, Mr. Rogers.”

“She wanted me to throw it away,” Steve huffs. “I took it with me to find out more about Y/N than her blood type and what she does for a living. If we want this to work out, we should…”

“Buy her flowers,” Bucky suggests. “And invite her to live with us.”

“Slow down, Buck. We should ask her on a date first. But flowers are not the worst gift for a first date.”

“How about we murder her enemies too,” the brunette grins darkly. “I know she doesn’t want us to kill Scottie boy, but I’d love to do more to him than break a few bones.”

“You know…” Steve dips his head and smirks darkly. “We could just let him disappear because he fucked with us. He lied and broke our deal by not telling Y/N about the deal.”

“I love how you think,” Bucky cups Steve’s face, looking him deep in the eyes, “and I love you, baby. You know that, right? Y/N is going to be an addition, but she’ll never take your place.”

“Buck, if I’d believe for one second you want to replace me you would end up bending over the table, your ass spanked raw,” Steve chuckles at his husband’s expression. “Oh, you’d love that, huh?”

“We will see, Stevie…we will see…”

“Far well, Scottie boy.” Bucky locks his gun and tugs it away. “This was much too fast and painless for that bastard. I should’ve broken a few bones or cut him open.”

“A shot straight through the heart. Good job.” Steve leans over Scott’s lifeless body. “Y/N can never know we killed him after she asked us to not do it.”

“We did it for us, not her. Y/N’s hands are clean. She had nothing to do with this, Steve. But I agree. She should never get to know about what happened tonight.”

“She wanted a dress like that for her wedding? Nice. Very nice.” Steve is obsessed with your scrapbook. He read every line and looked at every picture. Steve even ran his fingers over the fabric samples.

“Stevie, what are you doing with the scrapbook? Do you want to find the perfect wedding dress for her or more?”

“I want to get to know her better. Y/N put a lot of effort into creating this book. We should take our time and find out what she wants and likes.”

“Hmm…that’s not the worst idea, Steve. Give me that.” Bucky snatches the book out of Steve’s hands. “Let’s see what we can do for our doll…”

[lafox]

Luis Sera Headcanon [Collab] SFW/NSFW

Author note: hi everyone. I know it has been Ages but im back with a little gift for all of you and i collab with @sattiene my beloved <3 thank you so much for her input and help because it really helped me out get back in the mix of things. i really missed writing HC for characters soooooo ! My ask are now open! YEY!

anyways i'll let you enjoy this Hc!:

SFW HC: 

Meeting you for the first time in the events of the Las Plagas incident, the first thing he says to you is:

"I just have one important question. Do you have a smoke?"

-

Manipulation through his puppy eyes. 

“Oye, Senorita. Mind a smoke?” *insta puppy eyes*

-

Probably ‘almost’ fluent in French and would brag about it to you only (hmmm wonder why)

-

Grows every so fond of you when you laugh off his flirting towards you.

But what made him fall in love even more was when you suddenly started to flirt back. 

He stutters, is flustered but quickly come back with another flirt (it's a war now)

One time, he was playing around with his lighter while walking, to which you added a remark:

“Hm.. Does this skill also apply in the bedroom?” You smirked. 

The man was shooken (idk this isn't a word) and closed his lighter shut.

He shook his head and chuckled,

“There is only one way to find out, ay?” He said looking back at you.

Oh boy…

-

He tries to lighten up the mood as Leon isn’t much of a jokester. 

And when you laugh at his jokes and Leon doesn't, he points it out:

“Ay, see Y/N likes my jokes.” 

-

If you are imprisoned, you bet your ass Luis is gonna be your knight in shining armor.

You’ll scream to whoever, to get you out when it’s Luis that peaks his head and saves you his only comment will be:

“Oh so that's what you sound like, hm?” 

Alternatively : You are captured and tied up unconscious. He is at your rescue once more and sees you tied up. He would whistle and look away for a minute, putting his fist close to his mouth before snapping out of it and helping you out.

When you wake you bet your ass he will hit you with the oldest pick up line to this day like:

"Oh chica. I've been told I look heavenly, but you're not in heaven yet."

-

Is it raining? No problem Luis is to the rescue:

“Where are my manners?” He says as he takes off his jacket and hovers it on top of your head.

-

Oh shit! A flight hatchet coming your way! But don't worry, again, Luis is at the  rescue,

Hugging you as he pushes both of you away and falls down.

Well now it's an awkward situation as you are now on top of him. You lift yourself to meet with Luis’ face closer than expected.

Of course he shots a flirtatious grin accompanied with his eyebrows raising up.

What he would do to get your attention or to be close to you i swear…

He is down bad for you that's for sure. 

-

It's impressive when you see Leon in action, a break at the shooting range is always a great pause for everyone, which helps make Luis and you grow closer.

But the music made your feet tap to the beat and that, Luis noticed. 

He gently grabbed your hand, waiting a few seconds to know if he was denied and when you didn’t reject his advance, dragged you to dance.

You giggled, you weren’t much of a dancer but the beat was so good and the moment was so right, it made you become one. 

That was when you were charmed by him.

-

When you get separated, Luis will call you on the radio any chance he gets.

“Hola. Aaah I'm glad you picked up princesa. I’m at the ballroom, come over. We can continue our little dance. Don’t be late to the party!”

When you are a bit more separate from Leon and Ashley, you call Luis and you guys chat

“How's your search? Are you okay so far?” you asked. “Always so worried for me, lindura~” “I miss you too don’t worry” He adds. 

-

He would scare you by hugging you from behind

Which ultimately ends in you pointing your gun at him

"Whoa whoa, cariño. chill. it's just me, your loverboy."

-

Would take pictures of you on his flip phone but the pictures are some of the worst moments of you looking surprised, zoning out, or sweaty with dirt on your face cause you were almost killed by a villager. 

You ask him to delete it but nah this man puts it as his wallpaper and keeps it forever.

-

If you are infected with las Plagas, he becomes serious

Will still be flirtatious to calm his own anxiety

At the operation table, will hold your hand while killing the plaga

Would turn his head away as it is agony for him to hear you scream in pain

"I know, I know bebe. I'm here. shhh, shh,"

Let a tear fall and wipes it after the operation finish

Man, he thought he lost you!

-

But enough heart breaks!

The man is clingy! He loves you so much he always want you close

For example; you want to make breakfast for the both of you in the morning but no no no you are not escaping with his arms wrapped around your waist

"Nooooo, mi amor, stay," He whines in his morning voice.

Will be hugging you from behind while you cook breakfast. 

You can feel his stubble tickling your neck

Everything is perfect.

-

The embodiment of chivalry

Opens doors for you, pushes your seat for you allllll the time.

NSFW HC

He is loud and not scared to be

Moan, groans, whimpers, yeah you are getting the whole service.

-

Service top/ dom

Mutters some Spanish when he is really really into it.

-

His foreplay is insane the man is a teaser;

Hand on your thigh just slowly but surely making his way through your core as he kisses your neck and tells you sweet nothing. (how could it not melt to that!)

-

You are always his top priority

Can go on for hour for your pleasure only (pls don’t make him pass out i beg you)

Cracks jokes if you are anxious, just to see you smile and relax, that’s already a win for him.

-

Mf does the petal of roses on the bed thingy on the special occasion (with scented candles ofc!)

Nice dinners and dancing before a night of love.

-

Sex isn't a shameful topic to him and will tease about it.

If you tease him back about his  performance he will backfire at you, its constant banter!

-

Weakness for lace in lingerie: He would fall weak if he slowly discovered you are wearing a set of lingerie while he takes off your clothes

“You wore this for me cariño.” and also will have his puppy eyes activated.

-

Would brag about you all the time and show that you are his girl as he marks you

He loves when you mark him, telling him you are his and that he is yours.

Covered with your lipstick is so hot to him, shows how much you love him.

Takes pictures of all the above

-

His biggest turn on? When you ride him. 

Holy fuck does he love it so much, just digging his hands on your thighs and trusting at the same beat as your riding makes him melt.

You taste heavenly to him and he loves to eat you out

Face riding? Yes please!

Makes him so horny you bet that shit makes him precum.

-

Type of guy to continue slowly thrusting in when done cause God Damn you feel good, he doesn’t want it to end!

-

Not into the harcord stuff like BDSM and such but would be willing to try for you

“So you’re into that stuff ay..” 

-

His favorite positions are any where he can see your beautiful face

-

He will never call you names like ‘slut’ and stuff “that's not a gentlemen’s ways”

-

You tried your best to please him first but Luis can’t hear any of that: “Ladies first” kinda treatment 

“Why don’t we switch it up tonight, let me start with you~” you said as you pressed your fingertips on his pecks, going ever so slowly down.

He shook his head as he chuckled. “You know my policy mi amor” He takes your hand to wrap in around his neck as he positions you on your back while kissing you

I mean, you can’t resist him. 

-

First time he makes you squirt, the man will be so proud of himself

Will use that fact against you in arguments: “didn’t you gush all over me last night?? yeah that’s what i thought.” 

With a smug ofc 

-

Tell you how beautiful you are especially while making you cum

-

Best aftercare, hugs, kisses, shower, and caresses.

The man Orders you to stay put when he cleans up, its “his mess not yours”

[rae-writes]

surprise!

bsd boys x reader

wc : 1.k

warnings : maybe ooc Jouno- I haven’t seen much of his character yet but I still adore hims

synopsis : welcome back

a/n : I wrote this entire thing in one sitting. No I can’t believe it either. 

part 2 

Jouno 

You were out with a few friends that day, trying to get out more since your boyfriend was still gone on his 3-month long mission 

It was actually a really fun day; you all had just stepped out of a restaurant when— 

“They’re back! Look everyone! The Hunting Dogs have returned!” 

Naturally, everyone in the vicinity snapped their heads towards the group in red, watching them walk side by side and chat leisurely as they came home. 

Fighting your way through a small crowd, much to the confusion of your friends, you frantically scan the men in search for one person. 

“Y/n, what’re you- Y/n!” 

You’d broke out in a sprint, not bothering to even slow down before you jumped into his arms, locking your legs around his waist, “SAIGIKU!” 

And despite his cynical nature, even Jouno had trouble hiding the smile that wanted to break loose at your obvious thrill of seeing him again. 

Murmurs filled the area, especially within the hunting dogs, who were absolutely baffled at the display. 

“Hello, my love. Miss me?” Jouno chuckled at your weak attempt to hit his shoulder, cheerfully bouncing you in his arms like a toddler, “No need to be like that, now, I’m only teasing.” 

Huffing, you smile against your will, swiping his hat off his head and putting it on your own, “You are the literal worst.” 

“You’re going to kiss me anyway.” He tipped the brim of his hat, effectively making it fall past your eyes. 

“Unfortunately, you’re correct about that.” 

Hearing your friends cheer as you finally got to kiss his stupid mouth again made you break away with a laugh— much too soon for his liking, though he wasn’t complaining at getting to feel your smile against his lips after so long. 

Chuuya

Your red-headed boyfriend had been sent overseas for six months to handle something for Mori 

Currently, you were dressed in one of his button ups and a pair of his boxers while you cleaned up (cause what else did you have to do anyway?) 

The sound of a door opening made you grab the gun he kept there for your protection, knowing he wasn’t supposed to be back for another 2 weeks…

“I come home early to surprise my lovely partner after being away for so long and this is what I get?” 

You drop the gun in shock, staring at Chuuya like he was a ghost. The red aura around him fades and he catches the falling bullet you’d just shot at him casually. 

“Can’t be mad, though, at least I know you can protect yourself, yeah?” He laughs loudly at your rushed ‘I’msosorryohmygods’ and easily picks you up, “Don’t worry, doll. Didn’t even leave a scratch. Love the outfit, by the way, where on earth did you get it?” 

You give him a disbelieving smile, hands cradling his face softly, “I can’t believe I just shot at this pretty face,” you pout and pepper kisses everywhere, not stopping until the apples of his cheeks are practically glowing. 

“H-hey—!” Chuuya’s cut off by a real kiss, staggering slightly when his knees almost give out at the sensation. 

“Missed you s’much pretty boy. Was lonely without you.” 

His mouth tugs into a frown, reaching up to grasp your hand tightly and place a kiss on the back of it, “I’m sor-“ 

You interrupted with another kiss, “It’s okay, Chuu, I know it’s your job. Though next time I might be inclined to bully Mori into letting me come too.”

Chuuya let out another laugh, already imagining the scene, “I’d love to see it. Let’s both just stay here for a while, okay?” 

Dazai

He threw an actual fit when you had to go on a three week mission with a few of the others and refused to do any work since

His mood was a real bummer around the agency (though Atsushi tried his best to cheer him up everyday) 

While wallowing in self pity, though, it seems like he lost track of time 

“Dazai-saaaan!” Atsushi sounded like he’d just won the lottery, “I have something that’ll make you feel better!” 

Dazai did nothing but silently wave off the boy, grateful at the offer but feeling more miserable at the same time. 

“I mean, I can just go back if you don’t want me.” You watched him bolt up from his chair with amusement, opening your arms widely, “Come on then.” 

With no regard for height differences or his body weight, Dazai jumped at you, not even noticing how hard he smacked against the floor, “Belladonna! You’ve come back to me! I’m saved!” 

Despite his theatrics, you noticed his trembling and labored breathing, “Osamu,” you cooed sweetly, rubbing the crown of his head where he’d bumped it when you both fell down. 

He nuzzled deeper into your touch, whining when you moved to sit up. 

“Oh, you big baby-“ you cradled him once more, realizing you probably wouldn’t be able to get off the floor for a while. 

“Your big baby,” Dazai mumbled grumpily, invading all of your space until he was practically sitting in your lap, “I missed you.” 

The gentle smile on your face nearly sent him to the moon, “missed you too, ‘Samu.” And the soft kiss you gave him almost sent him into an early- happy - grave, “I love you.”

Fyodor

While you were not an actual member of the Decay of Angels, by proxy as Fyodor’s partner, you were basically an honorary member

Meaning you could lounge around base and go to meetings as much as you liked— the latter of which you were on your way to after discovering your boyfriend had just gotten back from his five week absence 

and no one told you. 

The doors slammed open, sending Sigma nearly 10 feet into the air, and making everyone else crane their heads around. 

Sending an apologetic look to the two-tone haired man, you continued on like you owned the place. 

Nikolai jumped up, ready to begin his usual antics, when you swiftly snatched his hat and swatted him upside the head with it, sending him dramatically reeling back into his chair. 

Your boyfriend watched in amusement, raising an eyebrow when you stopped just short of his reach, “Milaya.” 

“I don’t like you.” 

Many of the members choked on air at the clear disdain in your voice, not believing that someone was talking to Fyodor like that. 

“Is that so?” 

You pouted, making your bottom lip tremble for a little more flair, “Yes.” 

And despite knowing you were simply messing with him, he still didn’t like the glassy look in your eyes, “Come.” 

A bright smile quickly replaced the pout and you happily clamored in his lap, “You’re so mean to me, Fedya. Nik got to see you before me!” 

Fyodor chuckled, petting your head calmly, “Now, now.” His eyes twinkled when you basically purred at the affection, “None of that nonsense.” 

You kissed the corner of his mouth in retaliation, settling down in your rightful spot, “I’m going with you next time.” 

“You are?” 

“I am.”

[tangibletechnomancy]

The (Personal) Is (Political)

~7 hours, Dall-E 3 via Bing Image Creator, generated under the Code of Ethics of Are We Art Yet?

Or, Dear Microsoft and OpenAI: Your Filters Can't Stop Me From Saying Things: An interactive exercise in why all art is political and game of Spot The Symbols

A rare piece I consider Fully Finished simply as a jpeg, though I may do something physical with it regardless. "Director commentary" below, but I strongly encourage you to go over this and analyze it yourself before clicking through, then see how much your reading aligns with my intent.

Elements I told the model to add and a brief (...or at least inexhaustive) overview of why:

Anime style and character figures - Frequently associated with commercial "low" art and consumer culture, in East Asia and the English-speaking world alike, albeit in different ways - justly or otherwise. There is frequently an element of racism to the denigration of anime styles in the west; nearly any American artist who has taken formal illustration classes can tell you a story of being told that anime style will only hinder them, that no one will hire them if they see anime, or even being graded more harshly and scrutinized for potential anime-esque elements if they like anime or imply that they may like anime - including just by being Asian and young. On the other hand, it is true that there is a commercial strategy of "slap an anime girl on it and it will sell". The passion fans feel for these characters is genuine - and it is very, very exploitable. In fact, this commercialization puts anime styles in particular in a very contentious position when it comes to AI discussions!

Dark-skinned boy with platinum and pink [and blue] hair - Racism and colorism! They're a thing, no matter how much the worst people in the world want you to think they're long over and "critical race theory" is the work of evil anti-American terrorists! I chose his appearance because I knew that unless I was incredibly lucky, I would have to fight with this model for multiple hours to get satisfactory results on this point in particular - and indeed I did. It was an interesting experience - what didn't surprise me was how much work it took me to get a skin color darker than medium-dark tan; what did surprise me was that the hair color was very difficult to get right. In anime art, for dark skin to be matched with light hair and eyes is common enough to be...pretty problematic. Bing Image Creator/Dall-E, on the other hand, swings completely in the opposite direction and struggles with the concept of giving dark-skinned characters any hair color OTHER than black, demanding pretty specific phrasing to get it right even 70% of the time. (I might cynically call this yet another illustration against the pervasive copy-paste myth...) There is also much to say about the hair texture and facial features - while I was pleased to see that more results than I expected gave me textured hair and/or box braids without me asking for it, those were still very much in the minority, and I never saw any deviation from the typical anime facial structures meant to illustrate Asian and white characters. Not even once!

Pink and blue color palette - Our subject is transgender. Bias self-check time: did you make that association as quickly as you would with a light-skinned character, or even Sylveon?

Long hair, cute clothes, lots of accessories - Styling while transmasc is a damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don't situation, doubly so if you're not white. In many locations, the medical establishment and mainstream attitude demands total conformity to the dominant culture's standard conventional masculinity, or else "revoking your man card" isn't just a joke meant to uphold the idea that men are "better" than women, but a very real threat. In many queer communities, especially online, transmascs are expected to always be cute femboys who love pink (while transfems are frequently degraded and seen as threats for being butch), and being Just Some Guy is viewed as inherently a sign of assimilationism at best and abusiveness at worst. It is an eternal tug-of-war where "cuteness" and ornamentation are both demanded and banned at the same time. Black and brown people are often hypermasculinized and denied the opportunity to even be "cute" in the first place, regardless of gender. Long hair and how gender is read into it is extremely culture-dependent; no matter what it means to you, if anything, the dominant culture wherever you are will read it as it likes.

Trophies and medals - For one, the trans sports Disk Horse has set feminism back by nearly 50 years; I'm barely a Real History-Remembering Adult and yet I clearly remember a time when the feminist claim about gender in sports was predominantly "hey, it's pretty fucked up that sports are segregated by sex rather than weight class or similar measures, especially when women's sports are usually paid much less and given weirdly oversexualized uniforms," but then a few loud living embodiments of turds in the punch bowl realized that might mean treating trans people fairly and now it's super common for self-proclaimed feminists - mostly white ones - to claim that the strongest woman will still never measure up to the weakest man and this is totally a feminist statement because they totally want to PROTECT women (with invasive medical screenings on girls as young as 12 to prove they're Really Women if they perform too well, of course). For two, Black and brown people are stereotyped as being innately more sporty, physically strong, and, again, Masculine(TM) than others, which frequently intersects with item 1...and if you think it only affects trans women, I am sorry my friend but it is so much worse and more extensive than you think.

Hearts - They mean many things. Love. Happiness. Cuteness. Social media engagement?

TikTok - A platform widely known and hated around these parts for its arcane and deeply regressive algorithm; I felt it deserved to be name/layout/logodropped for reasons that, if they're not clear already, should become so in the final paragraph.

Computers, cameras and cell phones - My initial specification was that one of the phones should be on Instagram and another on TikTok, which the model instead chose to interpret as putting a TikTok sticker on the laptop, but sure, okay. They're ubiquitous in the modern day, for better and for worse. For all the debate over whether phones and social media are Good For Us or Bad For Us, the fact of the matter is, they seem to be a net positive-to-neutral, whose impacts depend on the person - but they do still have major drawbacks. The internet is a platform for conspiracy theories and pseudoscience and dangerous hoaxes to spread farther than ever before. Social media culture leaves many people feeling like we're always being watched and every waking moment of our lives must be Perfect - and in some senses, we are always being watched these days. Digital privacy is eroding by the day, already being used to enforce all the most unjust laws on the books, which leads to-

Pigs - I wrote the prompt with the intention that it would just be a sticker on the laptop, but instead it chose to put them everywhere, and given that I wanted to make a somewhat stealthy statement about surveillance, especially of the marginalized...thanks for that, Dall-E! ;)

Alligators - A counter to the pigs; a short-lived antifascist symbol after...this.

Details I did not intend but love anyway:

The blue in the hair - I only prompted for platinum and pink in the hair, but the overall color palette description "bled" over here anyway, completing the trans flag, making it even more blatant, and thus even more effective as a bias self-check.

The Macbook - I only specified a laptop. Hilariously ironic, to me, that a service provided through Bing interpreted "laptop" as "Macbook" nearly every time. In my recent history, 22 out of 24 attempts show, specifically, a Macbook. Microsoft v. OpenAI divorce arc when? ;) But also, let us not forget Apple's role in the ever-worsening sanitization of the internet. A Macbook with a TikTok sticker (or, well, a Tiikok sticker - recognizable enough) - I can think of little more emblematic of one of the main things I was complaining about, and it was a happy accident. Or perhaps an unhappy one, considering what it may imply about Apple's grip on culture and communications.

Which brings me to my process:

Generated over ~7 hours with Dall-E 3 through Bing Image Creator - The most powerful free tool out there for txt2img these days, as well as a nightmare of filters and what may be the most disgustingly, cloyingly impersonal toxic positivity I've ever witnessed from a tool. It wants to be Art(TM), yet it wants to ban Politics(TM); two things which are very much incompatible - and so, I wanted to make A Controversial Statement using only the most unflaggable, innocuous elements imaginable, no matter how long it took.

All art is political. All life is political. All our "defaults" are cultural, and therefore political. Anything whatsoever can be a symbol.

If you want all art to be a substance-free "look at the pretty picture :)" - it doesn't matter how much you filter, buddy, you've got a big storm coming.

[xo-rihanna]

Forget Him Part 1- Neteyam Sully

All characters are aged up.

Warnings - arguing, Lo’ak is a complete asshole in this and I’m sorry for all my Lo’ak girlies I’ll make it up to you🫶🏻, swearing, mating. This is not proof read

Summary - Lo’ak and reader are in a toxic relationship (they are not mated) and after an argument the reader realises she’s in love with Neteyam and they mate. This will have a smut part 2

Your boyfriend Lo’ak knew just how to get under your skin, rippling you with a fire so furious it was scolding. And worst thing was he loved the reaction you gave him. So you clamped your jaw tight, grinding your teeth and tearing into the inside of your cheek until the metallic taste of blood overwhelmed your mouth. You were determined not to give him the reaction he so clearly wanted but every inch of your body and soul hated him. Your eyes were overflowing with hatred as you watched him tower over you, asserting his dominance, screaming at you for something you hadn’t even started.

You noticed his heaving chest, his trembling arms like he was resisting the urge to lash out like a rabid animal and your eyes were daring him to do it. The blood rushing in your ears and your own thumping heart was too much on top of everything else. You were a building about to collapse into rubble, taking everything down with you. Lo’ak’s frenzy came to a quick end when you opened your mouth to speak for the first time in what seemed like hours, in reality it wasn’t even minutes. Your calm tone confused him, you’d usually be mental right now. Screaming back at him, launching a fist to his face when he got too confrontational. You weren’t proud of it but Lo’ak wasn’t innocent either. You’d both put your hands on each other and while you knew you were slowly digging yourself a grave, your moaning heart wouldn’t let you leave.

“Do you ever hear yourself? The reaction you’ve just had has told me everything I need to know Lo’ak.” You kept eye contact although his hard gaze faltered. You were sure he was thinking of something in that complex, fucked up mind of his to salvage the situation.

“You know you’re starting to piss me off. How am I supposed to react when my girlfriend accuses me of fucking other bitches?” His tone picks up as he progresses through every syllable.

“That’s something that will fail every relationship you have with a woman Lo’ak. You think and act like a boy. I know you have and you know what I’m not even pissed off anymore I shouldn’t expect less from you. I’m so glad we aren’t mates because then I’d be stuck with you forever! You know what, I’m gonna fuck someone else and then I’m gonna come home still smelling like sex and cuddle up to you like you’ve been doing to me for the past 3 months. Does that sound alright my love?” Lo’ak was truly seeing red by the time you’d finished and without thinking his fist collided with a tree. You scoffed, better the tree than your face, making to get up and stalk away to fulfill your promise but you were pulled back by harsh hands on your hips and Lo’ak’s hot body against yours.

“No man in this fucking clan is willing to put their dicks anywhere near you, princess.” He breathes, sending a sinister chill down your spine. You pulled his hands from your body and with a hell of a lot of restraint you manage to walk away without hitting him. Only allowing the rush of embarrassment to make its way up to your cheeks when you know you’re far from his burning gaze.

Was what he said true? Was every man in the clan that repulsed by you? And were you making a huge mistake to threaten your relationship if it was?

Thoughts burned into your vision as you walked. You had no exact destination. You found your legs to be taking you in the opposite direction to the village, trekking you far into the forest to areas even you didn’t recognise.

Eclipse was hours gone and the night sky had woken up the bioluminescent flora of Pandora. The ground lit up as you walked and plants gravitated towards you. Streams seemed as clear as glass, making not a sound as it flowed effortlessly along its bed. Bed. You longed for your bed right now. But you knew the second you went back you’d face the humiliation of your boyfriend all over again and that gave your tired legs the motivation they needed to keep walking, sure that you’d find your way back when you were ready.

In the daze of your walking, your primal hunting instincts remained focused. Catching sounds that made you jump every now and then. You weren’t afraid of the forest but this was unknown territory, Eywa knows what animal hunting ground you may be trespassing on. An ikran screech dragged you out of your foggy state. You recognised the call and watched as Neteyam and his ikran, Seze, soared above you. Wafting the air and attacking the leaves as Neteyam landed and dismounted from Seze.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He called to you, as he patted down Seze to calm her, a cheeky grin on his face that subconsciously frenzied your heart. He laughed at your dismantled look.

“Well someone’s a stalker aren’t they?” You asked him with a mischievous glint in your eyes. Neteyam scoffed and made his way to you and you gulped quietly as you could feel the heat almost radiating off his body.

“You wish I was stalking you. You shouldn’t be this far into the forest anyway.” He ruffled your hair, something he knew drove you crazy and you swatted his hand away frustratedly.

“Then what are you doing out here, golden boy.” You raised an eyebrow and Neteyam shrugged leaning against a nearby tree and picking at his dagger casually.

Neteyam was never one to break rules and his father, Jake Sully, was strict about going out last eclipse. You were sure he must be going out of his mind right now. You faked an antagonising gasp and said, “Look at you breaking the rules you little rebel!”

Neteyam rolled his eyes and you redirected your gaze to the ground, shuffling on your feet nervously. You’ve always been nervous around Neteyam, and you could never put your finger on why. You glanced back up at him and admired his eyes, a quick blush formed on your cheeks as you bit your lip anxiously. Maybe because he was so damn gorgeous. You shook the thought from your head, you couldn’t cheat on Lo’ak with his brother. That would make you the biggest bitch on Pandora, although he has made your life a living hell from the moment he entered it..

Fuck it. Why not.

“What did my brother do?” Neteyam asked, not taking his eyes off you for a second. You sighed in frustration, “What hasn’t he done, Teyam,” You sat down on the mossy ground and Neteyam followed waiting for you to keep talking, “We had a fight because I’m 99% certain he’s cheating on me. Hes always late to meet me, he’s all sweaty and he’s always changed his loincloth and he just cuddles up to me in bed like I’m completely blind to what he’s doing. Anyway, he didn’t like my accusation and you know how we get when we fight and I got angry and told him I’d go fuck someone else too and he told me no one in the clan would even think about getting near me.”

Neteyam’s eyes are full of nothing but disgust at his brothers actions. Neteyam pulls you onto his lap and engulfs you in his strong arms, you stay there for minutes just breathing in his scent and taking in his warmth. Neteyam pulls away but his arms are still resting on your hips, one of his hands finds your cheek and strokes it softly with his thumb.

“You know that isn’t true right.” Neteyam’s voice is smooth and soft like velvet and it spreads through every inch of your body, comforting you with just a few measly words. His eyes search yours and you glance down, picking nervously at your fingers and shrug.

Neteyam lets out a small laugh and tucks some of your loose wavy hair behind your ear (think of Neytiri’s best hairstyle aka the one she mates with Jake). “Y/n, you have no idea the effect you have. Every man in the clan wants you. It’s sad really. Men that would treat you like a fucking queen and you’re getting the bare minimum from my brother.” He shakes his head, looking down at your lips for just a second.

“Neteyam..” Your face is just inches away from his and his breath is fanning your face. You don’t know what you’re feeling but it’s exhilarating, like having all the wind knocked from your body and every nerve on fire.

“Shh. Let this happen.” He whispers, he’s now just a few centimetres away and your hands have found the back of his neck and his have repositioned you to be straddling him.

Your chest against his makes you nervous, your heart is drumming so fast you don’t want him to feel it. You don’t have time to worry anymore because before you know it Neteyam has closed the gap between you, filling it with his soft warm lips against yours. The kiss filled every empty space in you, flooding you with a feeling you can only describe as electricity.

His lips against yours felt so right, and so did the feelings you were having towards him. When you pulled away, you both just stared into each other eyes so full of love, chests panting to get your breaths back. “Neteyam-“ You exclaim, wanting to tell him everything you’re feeling but he cuts you off with more kisses to your lips.

“I know, ma tìyawn.” He breathes into your neck as he covers it in sloppy kisses. Drunk with sudden love, you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. Neteyam explored your body with his lips and his hands, kissing every soft spot and freckle and caressing every curve.

You guided his hands to the strings of your top, concealing your full breasts. Neteyam gladly removed your top and tossed it into the wilderness, you smiled and blushed as he just took in the beautiful sight for a minute.

“Eywa have mercy. You’re so fucking perfect, Y/n.” He mumbled before latching onto your breasts, sucking at the gentle skin. You hummed and Neteyam took one of your nipples into his mouth, making you gasp as he flicked his tongue over your sensitive bud. His free hand fondled your other breast, mesmerised by their fullness.

You moaned as Neteyam continued to suck on your nipples before pulling away and resting his forehead gently on yours. “Can I ask you something without you thinking I’m insane?” Neteyam smiled as he spoke. You nodded and bit your lip, watching him intently.

“Be my mate? I’m crazy for you and I can tell you feel the same way.” He stares into your eyes nervously and your heart thundered in your chest as you reached behind you to take your queue in your hands and bringing it forward.

“I want you Neteyam.” You whispered and Neteyam’s eyes lit as he brought his queue forward too. You gazed longingly into his eyes as the tendrils finally made contact, dancing and intertwining together before calming and connecting you to Neteyam. You watched as Neteyam’s eyes dilated and he watched yours do the same and a feeling you couldn’t describe flooded your body, making you force your eyes closed and a small gasp escape both of you. You felt every inch of him through tsaheylu and the overwhelming love made you shudder uncontrollably. When you opened your eyes once again to meet his, his eyes were bright with awe.

“You’re mine now.” He whispered as his lips once again found your skin.

[rougepancake]

CAN YOU DO THE (adult) FEMALE DEMON SLAYER CHARACTERS WITH 86, GENRE SMUT OBVI🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

It’s pride month u better accept

OH OH OH YES 💪💪

Prompt 86- “Don’t be shy now, sit on my face.”

Ft. Kocho Shinobu, Mitsuri Kanroji, Hinatsuru Makio & Suma, Lady Tamayo

Warnings: Cunnilingus, Oral (f!receiving) (duh-), duh con, first time in Mitsuri’s, weird demon hormones in Tamayo’s, Afab!Reader (no real pronouns used, just female anatomy). Mdni, I will block you if you do. Also not proofread because I’m too silly for them rules.

KOCHO SHINOBU

“Oh I don’t know Kocho, now’s not the time and I’m really not feeling tha-“

“Love, I don’t really care.” Shinobu smiled, her hands neatly folded in her lap as she sat across from you. She looked so unnecessarily calm, which meant she was planning something. “You’re a horrible liar anyways, so just let me relieve your stress already.”

“Kocho.” You said sternly, your lips forming in a pout. This argument had been going on for roughly an hour, where Shinobu would bring up the idea of eating you out and you’d decline because you’d ‘had a long day’.

But Shinobu was right- you were a terrible liar.

While you had missed her while she was away, Shinobu had the tendency to get a little… carried away.

“Y/n…” She returned your serious stare, getting up and slowly moving to where you sat on the couch. Slowly and teasingly, she pulled off her butterfly haori and began to unbutton her corps uniform. She leaned back and propped herself up on her elbows, her hair falling down into her face making her look ten times sexier than usual.

“Dear god Kocho.” You rolled your eyes, your face flushed as you began to strip yourself of your clothes. “You’re relentless.”

“Can you blame me?” She whispered seductively, her eyes taking in every inch of your body. “I’ve missed you so much love.”

You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest stubbornly, pouting at her slightly. “You see this? You’re so mean to me.” You cracked a smile and slowly crawled over to her.

“Hush and hurry up.” She reached out and put her hands on your waist, her grip harsh. You huffed and placed your thighs on either side of her face, hesitant to sit down fully. Her hands moved from your waist to your thighs, forcing you to put your weight on her.

“Don’t be shy love, sit on my face.” She smirked into your skin and buried herself in your cunt.

MITSURI KANROJI

She brought it up a while back, explaining shyly how she wanted to sit on your face and have you taste her that way. But she was incredibly nervous since she wasn’t exactly petite, and while it sounds far fetched, she was worried about you suffocating or something.

“So about you sitting on my face.” You stated bluntly as she crawled into your shared bed. Mitsuri’s face flushed a bright shade of red and she swallowed thickly, avoiding your gaze and sitting on the edge of the bed.

“O-Oh you want to do that…?” She nervously ran a hand through her hair, internally cursing herself for being so nervous at the thought.

You rolled over onto your side, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. She slowly looked over at you, giving you an anxious smile.

“We don’t have to if you don-“

“I want to.” She interrupted, turning quickly to look you in your eyes, her face mere inches away from your own.

You chuckled and rolled onto your back, pulling her close to you.

“Well don’t be a stranger darling, sit on my face.” You placed your hands on her thighs and helped her put her weight onto you.

Oh boy was she glad she suggested that.

HINATSURU, MAKIO, & SUMA

Oh they’re evil. All three of them. They gang up on you while Tengen is away for business (demon slaying ain’t easy folks), since you’re their favorite little housemaid.

Makio is the most cruel though, and she sure does love picking on you. Watching you do your job just isn’t enough for her, and she likes to sneak up behind you and wrap her arms around you, her body grinding up against yours as she whispers the WORST things into your ear.

If anything, she’s the one that wants you the most out of the three.

And here you are, standing in their shared bedroom in front of her, dressed fully in uniform while she lays down onto the futon, smirking as you make eye contact. She motions you forward and suddenly the other wives come in, gently pushing you forward.

They keep saying that they’ll take good care of you, and it’s not like you’re worried about I then hurting you… you’re just incredibly anxious. You’ve never been intimate with someone like this before, since you’ve been working as long as you remember, you haven’t really had time for any of that.

“Do you want us to help you undress..?” Hinatsuru whispered sweetly, giving you a soft smile as you stood over Makio’s nude form.

“No. The maid outfit stays on.” Makio interrupted, and Suma chuckled quietly behind you. Her hands snaked their way up to behind your knees, pushing slightly so your knees would buckle and you would land on her.

She pushed your panties aside as the other two draped their arms around you, giggling here and there.

“There’s no need to be shy, just sit on my face already.” Makio gripped your thighs and pulled you down, and you moaned loudly as she began to eat you out like you were her last meal.

Hinatsuru and Suma’s hands trailed along your body, looking for your sensitive spots as you rode Makio’s face.

It was pure bliss.

LADY TAMAYO

“Tamayo? Is that you?” You carefully turned on the light, revealing the figure in your doorway.

She looked rough, her hair messy and her chest heaving slightly. Without a word, she walked over to you and crawled onto your bed. Her eyes refused to look anywhere but yours as she got closer, and you noticed that her face was flushed slightly.

Could she be sick?

No she doesn’t get sick…

“Y/n, my love.” She panted weakly, desperation shining in her eyes. “I need to feel you.” Tamayo smiled up at you, her body lowering down onto your bed as she awaited you.

You offered her a kind smile and went to take off her kimono, but she stopped you, her eyes shining seriously.

“No. I need to taste you.” She was incredibly straightforward, her fingers beckoning you to come closer. “I want you to sit on my face. Full force. I need you.” She sounded incredibly out of breath, and that’s when you realized that she must be in some form of heat.

“Are you su-“

“I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t sure.” She retorted, her fingers twitching as if she wanted nothing more than to tear your clothes from your body and ravish you. “Now.” Her lips curled into a small smirk. “Don’t be shy. Get over here and sit on my face already.”

[aemxnd]

curiosity | modern!aemond x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Aemond Targaryen is an enigma you need to solve.

Inspired by an amazing request from @darckxlady for a modern mysterious Aemond based on Avril Lavigne’s “Hot” that’s haunted me ever since it arrived in my inbox. Thank you for letting me loose on your lovely idea Dess, I hope I’ve done it some kind of justice! 

WORDS: 5.4k (I know, it got out of hand)

WARNINGS: balls to the wall smut, v fingering, squirting, daddy kink, affirmation kink, praise, serious degrading, p in v sex, slight dubcon if you squint, Aemond being a dom asshole, language, fuckboy Aegon, very much unedited/not proofread, a tiny Easter egg for fans of the Greek alphabet, reader has a name for a plot point

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

My requests are open! 🖤

You know what they say about curiosity.

The conundrum of Aemond Targaryen, the silently contemplative mystery man in your History class, was a red flag to a bull. You had exhausted your average detective skills to learn more about him, inactive Facebook account, unused Twitter and even an old Tumblr account included. There was nothing out there to learn about the silver-haired Adonis that his nonchalant countenance hadn’t already exposed. Either that, or he’s already worked out how to wipe his digital footprint clean off the web. 

The less you uncovered, the more entranced you became. Every enquiry’s door slammed in your face drove you further down the corridor. The Targaryen wasn’t going to get the better of you. Was he a lover, a fighter, a good kisser, bad kisser, or worse — a frat boy?

The end of class bell rang you out of your imaginative daze, not realising you’d been staring at Aemond across the classroom for an indeterminable amount of time. He gathered his things in an orderly fashion as normal, so it was safe to assume you hadn’t been caught red-handed. Hurriedly grappling your belongings in turn, you were the last to leave class. As usual. 

With the prospect of another gruelling hour in High Valyrian before home time, you idly pored through the remaining avenues of investigation in your mind while trudging the hallway before your ears pricked up to a salacious conversation.

“I had her up against the wall,” Aemond’s voice sliced through the hum of the busy corridor like a gleaming dagger, his skewed tone suggesting his lips were curled viciously as he described his forceful action. Stopping right in the middle of the hall, your gaze frantically searched through the crowds for a sight of the mysterious Targaryen. Finding the platinum curls of his brother Aegon, you scanned beside him to find Aemond making an example of his words, a demonstrative hand aloft in a clutching stance up against the locker beside them, knuckles white as he gripped nothing at all. “She wanted me, she was dripping for me,” he continued, confirming your worst fear — he was indeed a frat boy.  On the other hand, Aegon’s sarcastic expression beside him spoke louder than any words, both eyebrows knitted together as if he didn’t believe a word his brother was saying. 

“Sure you did,” Aegon scoffed, arms folded tightly across his chest. “Which wet dream are you talking about this time, brother? It’s a wonder we’re even related, I’m not even entirely sure you’d know where to put your cock.”

Aemond’s gaze darted to the floor along with his hands, anxiously drawing his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Seriously bro, did you even watch that gangbang I linked you last night?” Aegon prattled on, completely oblivious to his brother’s indifference. Aegon’s extroverted approach was the polar opposite to his brother’s, he was the popular picked-first-in-gym guy in movies that you just want to sucker punch. “Don’t tell me, your notifications aren’t working again. No worries, I’ll send you ten more in a minute. You like chicks with a pulse, right? Don’t wanna narrow your chances down too much, you’ll get it wet someday.”

Suddenly, Aemond looked up from the ground and stared straight into your eyes across the hall. His gaze was menacing, predatory even, his eyes narrowed and his lips pressed together as he practically devoured you from afar. If it weren’t for the bustling school around you, you’d be mistaken for thinking he’d gladly slit your throat then and there for witnessing him being roasted by his brother. Despite the imminent threat of figurative murder in the hallway, you couldn’t help drawing further into his intrigue. In that moment, he became even more fascinating to you. But here you were, mindlessly staring at him for the second time in 10 minutes. 

Quickly looking away to any other distraction, you found a particularly interesting flyer pinned to a locker. Saccharine neon colours and graffiti-style text framing its main intention — frat party alert. Tonight. Kappa Nu Tau’s semester-saving opportunity to let your hair down, listen to the same tired songs from the radio and wake up regretting who you just slept with.

Maybe a house party would distract you from the droll of trying to find intel on the man who doesn’t want to be found, or maybe it’d be the perfect opportunity to find such intel.

You turned back to see if Aemond was still staring at you only to find both brothers gone, vanished into the class-bound commotion.

“Are you coming?” A sprightly female voice burst through the crowd accompanied by an arm entwining with yours. Baela, the kindest soul to walk Westeros High that always mistook frat parties for respectable gatherings of upstanding, hard-working students who shared her academic fervour and always bailed an hour and 15 indecent propositions in. 

“Uh… sure,” you caved tentatively, knowing full well being best friends with Baela meant the night never outstayed its welcome. “Not sure I’ve got anything to wear though.”

“Sure you do, you can go through my wardrobe!” She cheered in her usual bubbly tone, practically hopping on the balls of her feet with excitement. “I’ve got this really hot red Shein bodycon I haven’t worn yet, I don’t think it’s my colour but it’s definitely yours!”

Dragging you by your linked arms off to your next class, you made another intrigued turn to find Aemond, but he was gone. Once again, the mystery eluded you. 

—

The moment the booming party speakers assaulted your ears and snapped you out of your intense detective mindset, you bitterly regretted showing up. Swallowing thickly as you and Baela linked arms and stepped intrepidly into House Kappa Nu Tau, you pasted on your best game face, brushed down Baela’s loaned dress and focused on the matter at hand — find out more about Aemond Targaryen, at all costs. 

“The Targaryens are here already,” Baela half-shouted into your ear to be heard over the commotion. “The Snapchat group is going wild for it.”

You furrowed a brow, wondering why your friend would bring them up at the exact moment you were thinking about them, or more specifically one of the three criminally handsome blonde siblings. Aegon the fuckboy may have been the eldest in age, but their sister Helaena was by far the wisest, which left the baby Aemond to cut a name for himself in between. A name which you had yet to work out. 

“Dude, would I care what the Targaryens are up to?” You chuckled dismissively, stepping through to the kitchen and grabbing a red solo cup to cling to like your life depended on it. Whether you were aware of it or not, your slight lean against the kitchen island came accompanied by a nervous check of the faces in the room to ensure none had signature platinum blonde hair. 

“Oh come on Kat, you can’t stop staring at him!” Baela leaned up against you, planting her head on your shoulder. “Not that I blame you, he’s a certified babe and even I catch myself ogling that violet eye. Do you seriously not notice the way you look at him?”

“Baela, I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Laughing off her comments, you took a sip of your cup for a good few seconds before noticing your cup was still empty. A silence fell between you as you hoped she hadn’t noticed. “… Oh.”

“You’re down bad bad.” Baela dramatically swooned into you, inching closer to watch your every reaction through a suspicious squint. “Admit it, the thought of tangling your fingers in that beautiful blonde mane makes you all hot.”

“I’m not!” you dismissed vehemently. “Look, I hardly even know the guy. He’s a walking fucking mystery, I’ve tried everything: FB stalking him, searching up old yearbooks, he doesn’t even post stories on IG. His brother hacking his Twitter once in 2016 is the only interesting thing about him!”

Unbeknownst to you, a wave of poker-straight silver locks just mingled its way into the kitchen behind you, hearing every word with interest. 

“Then you’re looking in all the wrong places,” Baela sighed. “Have you even tried Tinder? Grindr? AO3?”

Aemond’s low chuckle to himself was fortuitously quiet enough to slip under your radar. 

“I wasn’t born yesterday, Velaryon, I’ve tried everything. Even VampireFreaks!”

Another splutter went unheard. 

“Damn, he really is untraceable,” Baela tutted, curling her lips into a pout. “I can always ask Helaena? I have Biology with her on Tuesdays, I can always bribe my way to sit by her. I heard Cregan Stark was struggling last week, he wouldn’t say no if I offer to do his homework this week.”

“No way, that’s too obvious,” you refused immediately. “I can’t let him know I’m interested. You’ve seen him, he keeps himself to himself unless his siblings are around. I have to face it, he’s a locked door and I need to find out where he threw the key.”

Another blonde approached Aemond from behind.

“If I’d have known I’d be bringing you to this party for you to sulk in the kitchen all night, I’d have brought cookies,” Helaena muttered to her brother, offering a solo cup which he reluctantly took. “Can you at least try and let your face know you want to be here? Lying comes naturally to you, can you give it a shot now?”

“Sure, sis.” Aemond forced a pained grin across his cheeks for a split second before dropping into his usual resting bitch face. His violet eye looked over his sister’s shoulder at a rising commotion in the next room. “Hey, isn’t that Aegon dancing topless on a pool table?”

“Not again,” Helaena snarked, storming into the distance and disappearing into the crowd, lost to Aemond’s vision but not to his ears when she screamed at the top of her lungs: “Aegon, this is the third time this week!”

Aemond returned his attention to your conversation. 

“Well tonight’s your chance to jump him,” Baela shamelessly encouraged you. “Want me to find him and put in a good word for you?”

“Hell nah,” you protested. “He probably doesn’t even know who I am, we’re only in the same History class.”

“Well in that dress, he’s bound to notice you,” she revelled in the way her dress fitted you like a glove, falling into your curves like it was made for you. “Come on, let’s get you some Dutch courage to go get your mysterious man!”

Before you both turned to pour drinks, Aemond made his escape through the crowd. 

—

An hour had passed and you still hadn’t spotted the violet-eyed puzzle of a man. Aegon, on the other hand, had already tried his luck with Baela and received a spectacular shut-down she delivered in front of a baying audience. Not that it phased him for long, he was already doing body shots off a cheerleader over the couch. 

“Back in a minute,” you leaned into Baela announcing your departure for the bathroom.

“Okay but don’t leave me for long, okay? The Targaryen brother’s got ten minutes before he forgets the last time and tries it with me again, he’s a rotation fuckboy.”

Tentatively navigating the staircase over scattered groups of teenagers making out and filming regrettable drunken TikToks, your eyes fell upon the bathroom door and lunged for the handle, only for your hand to clasp on someone else’s. A pale, elegant hand with long, slender digits that seemed all too familiar. Looking up at your obstruction, you discovered you were, in fact, holding Aemond’s hand. His features were stern as usual, but significantly less murderous than your last contact. 

“Oh shoot,” you flustered, yanking away and stepping back. A quick glance down his figure clocked his plain black skin-tight T-shirt and even tighter black skinny jeans. Mysterious as ever. “Sorry, um… frat boys first!”

Aemond clicked his tongue disapprovingly. 

“I may be many things but I’m not a frat boy,” he insisted, syllables dripping off his tongue like honey. He released the door handle and waved a demonstrative hand to usher you forward. “Anyway, the rule is ladies first.”

“Incredibly chivalrous for a frat boy,” you goaded with a cheeky grin, the only sarcasm you could muster once you clocked his violet eye, gleaming in the dim light like a precious gemstone. Taking his offer, you scurried toward the door and swung it open, before a hand pressed into the small of your back, pushed you in the bathroom and closed the door behind you. 

“Hey, what are you—.”

A click of a key in a lock suggested the door was locked, provoking an instinctive hard swallow as you turned to face him, his back pressed against the portal and blocking your way out. The moonlight glowing outside the small window was the only light in the room yet he seemed to radiate illumination in the dark, his features so clear as if it were daylight. A pale hand holding a key raised into the darkness, clicking his fingers together and sending the key firing off into the pitch black void with a distant chink.

“We need to talk, don’t you think?” He half-purred, gazing down at you like his prey, cornered and panicked. 

“What about, Targaryen?” You stuttered, cursing yourself for acting so nervous as if you hadn’t pictured doing the same thing to him countless times over. But this was real life, not a daydream in History class. “Don’t you have some girls to shove against walls or something?”

“What, like this?” His hand fired to grasp your throat, thrusting you against the cool wall, causing you to hiss sharply and clench your eyes shut in fear of slamming into the edge of the basin beside you. Once the shock of the impact settled in your spine, you looked up to see his violet gaze boring down on you once more as he settled his thumb into the hollow of your throat and pressed his fingers into your neck, applying just enough pressure to cut off your blood supply but not enough to make you choke. A wave of excitement spread through you, coming to the clarity that he knew exactly how to choke someone without hurting them — that’s already one factoid you couldn’t glean from his digital footprint. 

BookTok was right all along: this really was a turn-on. 

Aemond chuckled deep in his throat as he watched your struggles with glee, gazing down at your legs beneath him as they buckled gently, knees squeezing together to resist your core betraying your hardened exterior with jolt after jolt of anticipation. 

“Are you quite finished?” He scoffed and quirked a brow, gesturing south in case you weren’t aware you were visibly hot under the collar being slammed against a wall. “Do you notice any similarities in that tall tale to what’s happening right now?”

You swallowed hard against his pressing fingers, realisation hitting you like a freight train. 

“I had her up against the wall,” you recalled Aemond confessing earlier. “She wanted me, she was dripping for me.”

“So even if you’re not the best internet stalker, you can still follow simple instructions,” Aemond sneered through a crooked smile. Without warning, his free hand grazed your thigh, brushing the hem of your dress further and further northwards at a slow, agonising pace. If you didn’t stop him there, he would realise he was right about one thing — you really were dripping for him.

“Aemond, please,” you protested weakly, wriggling against his grasp, both hands clutching at his hand wrapped around your throat. 

“Please what, huh?” He taunted, snaking his hand higher up your thigh until he reached your hip only to discover your thin lace panties blocking his path. “Say the word and your wish is my command. Go on, what happens next is entirely up to you.”

“I don’t understand—.”

“Sure you do,” he grinned, toying with the flimsy lace as if he could twist his hand and rip the fabric clean off you in a heartbeat. You struggled to slide yourself away, determined to prove him wrong and resist his advances. “You know what they say about curiosity, don’t you Kat?”

With that, your protestations ceased immediately. Taking advantage of your surprise, he gripped your panties and yanked them straight down your legs in one swipe. 

“You… you know my name?” 

Reinstating his hand on your legs Aemond trailed his index finger between your clenched thighs and parted them effortlessly, finding no objection from you whatsoever. 

“I know everything about you. Whilst mine is scarcely visible, your digital footprint may as well be a fucking landmark. So tell me, why is it you’re so interested in the ‘mysterious Targaryen’? What one remarkable thing have I done to deserve your undivided, not to mention pathetic, attention?”

His lips curled into a half-snarl as he dominated you. 

“Seeing as you know everything about me, why don’t you tell me, Aemond?” Your sarcastic flair returned to the conversation in a desperate attempt to distract yourself from his finger’s intrepid yet glacial trail toward your soaking core. “What have you done to deserve my attention?”

In thinking up a witty comeback, you hadn’t noticed his adventurous finger had left your thigh altogether. 

“How about this?” In a blink of an eye, his free hand gripped your thigh, spread it to one side and propped your foot up on the faucet beside you. Somehow refusing to release the pressure on your windpipe at the same time, Aemond trailed that same curious digit back up your thigh and finally met your throbbing folds, the contact alone causing you to buck your hips into him. 

“Easy tiger,” he commanded by delivering a swift slap to your cunt, earning a gasp in response. “Now I’ve answered your question, you owe me a reply to mine and in return, I’ll be kind enough to have mercy on your pretty little throat. What do you want the mysterious Targaryen to do to you?”

He trailed the very tip of his finger over the borders of your folds, circling delicately and inducing goosebumps on your every limb. Your eyes roved to the ceiling, spine flexing wildly and crashing against the wall in a feverish attempt to quell your body’s natural instincts. Aemond closed the gap between you, hovering his lips an inch from yours as his calm breaths fanned your face. 

“Use your words, curious Kat,” he taunted, adding another finger to his agonising journey around your now-dripping entrance. “Tell me what you want from me.”

No matter the compromising position he held you in, Aemond was putting you in control. You could turn him down before he fucked you with his fingers, you could slap him across the face and he would obey. The big game he played was all a front, what he really craved was validation. Proof that you also wanted what he wanted to do to you in that moment. 

Gulping loudly, you waited patiently until his fingers danced over your clit before bucking your hips forward so far, his digits slipped neatly inside you. 

“I want you to fuck my brains out, Aemond Targaryen,” you declared, revelling in his deep groan as his fingers met your spongy walls, instinctively stroking and caressing at an already feverish pace. 

“That’s a good girl,” he praised you eagerly, tearing his grip from your throat and planting his free hand against the wall by your head. “I’m glad to see you know what you want at last.”

Clenching around his fingers as he worked your core like a master sculptor, you threw your head back against the wall, squeezing your eyes shut to focus on the searing waves of ecstasy flooding through you. 

“No you fucking don’t,” he snapped, curling his hand around the back of your head and forcing your gaze down to see his fingers disappear in your cunt. “Watch me ruin you until the only comprehensible thought in that pretty little head of yours will be my name.”

His breakneck pace plunging his fingers inside you was only increasing, the pressure on your head forcing you down acting as a counterweight for his other hand’s machine-like thrusts. The white heat igniting inside your core began coursing through your veins, Aemond’s brutal speed racing you to the brink of your climax far too soon.

“I’m going to… I need to…,” you begged pathetically through staccato breaths. “Please, Aemond.”

“Wanna try that name again, sweetheart?” He pressed, withdrawing his fingers and slamming back knuckle-deep inside you.

“Oh gods fuck… uh… sir?” His relentless pace stealing every strangled gasp you could muster. 

“Nice try,” Aemond chuckled, pressing on your neck harder and working you even faster. “Venture another.”

“Fuck, please, ah…,” you cried out in desperation, pleading for an end to your torment and the simple permission to allow your orgasm to wash over you. “M… master?”

“Now now little girl, this isn’t Fifty Shades Of Grey, this is real life,” he pressed, raising his voice to be heard over the explicit sounds of your slick coating his pummelling fingers. “One last try.”

“Oh gods please, I can’t hold back much…,” you strained to see Aemond’s determined grin beyond the glittering stars appearing in the corners of your vision. “F… fuck… please daddy—.”

“That’s it, baby girl,” he praised before slamming his fingers deep inside you, flattening his palm against your clit and pulling and pushing his digits within you from your back walls to the front. His combined friction against your bundle of nerves and his fingers pressed fervently into your walls built an unusual sensation within you at an alarming pace, searing hot tears tumbling down your cheeks until you couldn’t take the sheer pressure anymore.

“Now squirt all over my fingers like a good little whore,” Aemond purred, his permission sending you careering over the precipice with a strangled scream, releasing the pressure inside until a tidal wave of your juices gushed from your cunt and sprayed his fingers, lewd splashes filling the room as you shamelessly soaked the bathroom floor, your own feet and Aemond’s skinny jeans.

“Good girl,” he encouraged, his words drawling from his tongue as he devoured the sight of you coming undone on just his fingers, continuing his assault on your walls to ride you through your entire orgasm. “I knew you could obey orders eventually, you’re not as dumb as you seem.”

“F… fuck you Aemond,” you stuttered, already regretting the words as they tumbled from your mouth and his gaze met yours. 

In the afterglow of the most intense orgasm you were ever likely to experience, you had just committed a war crime. The silence that fell in the bathroom was practically pulsing between you, waiting to explode at any moment. 

“As you wish, curiosity killed the Kat,” he snarled like a wild animal, tearing his fingers from your cunt as you clenched around nothing, before gripping your hips and spinning you on the spot, bending you over the faucet and pressing your face into the countertop with one hand quickly balled into your hair, the other wrestling with his skinny jeans and shuffling the denim to his ankles. Your inability to see his next move both excited and terrified you, hearing only frantic shuffling as he presumably freed his length from its cotton confines. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you after that little stunt.”

Delivering a swift kick to your ankle to spread your legs for him, Aemond released your hair and ghosted a delicate trail down your spine toward parting your cheeks before him. A subtle squelching sound suggested he was palming at his cock, and within moments his tip was nudging at your waiting entrance. 

“Tell me what you want,” Aemond demanded, his hand returning to fist into your hair and pulling your head back to face him, while holding his cock just at the precipice of sinking into your depths. “Right now.”

Once again, he was handing you the reins. The control over his next move was in your hands, completely and utterly. You strained back to take in his wild, lust-blown gaze down at you. He was just as far gone as you, if not further. His legs gently quaked as his anticipation peaked, desperate to plunge inside you once and for all.

“I want you…,” you hesitated as your legs nearly caved beneath you with want, need, desperation. “I want you to fuck me unconscious, daddy.”

A filthy moan erupted in his throat as he allowed his hips to rock forward, sheathing himself inside you to the hilt and journeying both hands to grasp your hips, guiding you down onto his thick cock. Your eyes widened as your walls eagerly consumed him, his girth stretching you open so much that from that moment on, you would only be filled by him. 

“After I let you squirt all over me like a dirty little whore, that’s how you repay me?” Aemond hissed through gritted teeth, setting a relentless pace plunging his throbbing cock into the deepest points of your core. “Not even a ‘thank you daddy for finger fucking me so hard I can’t see straight.’”

“Thank you… thank you daddy,” you repeated mindlessly, overwhelmed by the pressure of his tip pounding your walls so deep you could swear he was hitting your cervix. “Thank you daddy!”

“You’re getting there, baby girl,” he cooed, flexing his hips to bottom out inside you at different angles with each devastating thrust. “All you can think about is my cock, hmm? How good it feels being filled up by me? How good it feels being used as my own personal cocksleeve?”

You nodded furiously, gripping the edge of the countertop and arching your back into his thrusts. Groaning pornographically, Aemond pressed a palm into the small of your back and caressed each peak and trough. 

“That‘s my brainless little girl,” he hummed contentedly, drinking in your every effort to please him and ramping up his keen thrusts deep into your soaking cunt. “All you want is me, all you need is me. You belong to me.”

It was all too much. His unrelenting pace blurred your vision of the room around you, the pressure building inside your rippling cunt robbed you of oxygen, the precipice of your second climax coming to view without any strength remaining to withstand it. Your stabilising foot slipped in the puddle of your juices from earlier pooling on the bathroom tiles beneath you, losing grip on the basin. Aemond’s vice-like grip caught you without missing a beat of his relentless piston hips, hoisting your legs back to a straightened position before quickly returning to his gut-wrenching pace, your hip bones grazing the edge of the counter with every pound into you. 

“Easy, easy, I’ve got you,” he reassured, curling a particularly devastating plunge inside you that made you wail out into the void, the edges of your vision blurring like a vignette. “I need you to stay awake just a bit longer, okay my little zombie?”

You could no longer respond, allowing your incoherent ragged grunts as he pummelled you to speak for you.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckled in satisfaction, rearing his hips for the deepest thrust yet which sent you gasping for air that was simply out of your reach. “Daddy’s going to fill you up now, okay? Be a good zombie and take everything I give you, yeah?”

His nails were digging crescent dips into the flesh of your hips as he impaled you relentlessly, each determined thrust splitting you open so delicately before him like a daisy shedding its precious petals. You were putty in his hands, deliciously malleable and utterly defenseless while he used you to chase his own peak. Your powerless careering toward your own climax tightened a coil within you, mindlessly held back from pushing yourself over the edge until you heard his permission. 

“Oh gods, fuck, I’m…,” he stuttered, leaning down to press his chest against your back and purred in your ear. “Cum with me, baby girl.”

The tidal wave of ecstasy hit you both at the exact same moment, his faltering thrusts spilling hot inside you just as your juices gushed around him, your mixed fluids bursting the banks of your aching folds and joining the explicit pool of your previous climax. Your conjoined moans sang in harmony as you rode out your peaks through ever-so-gently rocking hips, not willing to withdraw from each other and accept that the rollercoaster had come to an end.

Aemond’s arms suddenly snaked around your hips, only this time their presence was gentle, tender, considerate. Raising you to a standing position, he turned you to lean up against the counter, propping you up safely as you both slowly regained composure together. His instinctive lean for a hand towel to clean you of his cum leaking from your folds took you by surprise, even dipping a corner under the faucet and taking great care wiping your aching entrance for you. 

“Are you…?” He muttered under his breath, carefully scanning your body for any bruising or injuries. His violet eye fell upon each side of your pelvis in turn, your hip bones had grazed against the countertop so furiously that your flesh was red raw, blotching with tiny beads of crimson and the smallest shreds of skin standing upright from your otherwise smooth frame.

Aemond swallowed hard, casting the towel aside and pressing a palm to each damaged hip and surveying the price of his own recklessness. 

“I’m… I’m so sorry,” he stumbled over his words for the first time. “I never meant to…”

“It doesn’t hurt, Aemond,” you dismissed with a wave of your hand in the limited space between you. “Forget about it.”

“How can I forget about it?” His tone was concerned. “How can I just overlook the fact I hurt the girl I’ve been head over heels—.”

He cut himself off by slapping his hand over his lips, but not soon enough. You quirked a corner of your own into a suspicious pout, brows knitted together. 

“What was that again, daddy?” Your sarcastic tone an exact mirror of his typical domineering approach, the adrenaline rush of discovering your newfound power over him going right to your head. “Spit it out like a good little boy.”

Aemond’s violet eye gazed into yours, his signature satisfied smirk creeping back. “It seems I taught you well, baby girl.”

As his smile beamed back at you, you couldn’t seem to tear your vision away from his lips, from his prominent cupid’s bow to the dimples forming in his cheeks as he grinned. Of course, Aemond noticed you were deep in observation and leaned in to press his nose against yours, his breaths fanning your face. 

“Tell me what you want right now, rūs riña.” Baby girl. 

Without a moment’s hesitation, you responded. 

“I want you to kiss me, Aemond Targaryen.”

As soon as the last syllable left your tongue, he crashed his lips into yours, nudging his nose into your cheek to ensure every atom of his lips embraced yours. The combined after-effects of the mind-blowing fuck and your eyes being closed while passionately making out with Aemond made a heady mix, leaving you lightheaded and as if your legs could cave beneath you all over again. 

Reluctantly pulling away to catch a breath, Aemond whimpered as you left and wrapped his arms around your waist to hold you close, refusing to let you go and willing you to stay in the moment with him just a little longer.

“You know, curiosity didn’t kill me in the end,” you smiled. “But I still wanna know what that mouth can do, daddy.”

Aemond beamed as brightly as his violet eye glistening with the excitement of a party worth showing up for, making a mental note to thank his sister for dragging him along after all. 

With the riddle of Aemond Targaryen finally solved, you were right about one thing — he was no frat boy. Because frat boys don’t fuck like that. 

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

Happy Valentine's day Y/N 2.

Y/n x Pick your character.

You're not a huge fan of festivities, especially Valentine's day, but your best friend is more than ready to make you change your mind and maybe he's also ready to confess to you something you have been waiting for so long.

Ghost.

You and him have been friends since you were children, you've seen the worst and the best of Simon Riley and still you adore and support him, you are roommates now, but everybody would say you're more of a husband - wife relationship, you like that thought, you will not say that loud of course, Simon is at home for Valentine's, you welcomed him and put his laundry on the washer, he also brought a strange box with him, you don't like to ask, but you felt your curiosity taking control of your mouth.

- what's that box? Can I see?

- Sorry love, that's... Personal.

-oh... Well, it's okay, take a shower big boy, I'll go to the supermarket quickly! Do u need something?

- Will you bring me a bottle of...

- whiskey? got it, that's already on the shopping list, something else?

- you know me so well love, no, I think that's all, if you need help call me, alright?

- Yes Lt. I'll be right back!

You left the house wondering what that box was, Simon doesn't hide anything from you but this time it looks like he wants to keep a secret.

Ghost opened the box and started his mission, packed a lot of gifts, put some balloons around, oh this poor man doesn't know how to show affection, but his team gave him some ideas, he really wants you to know how he feels for you. He doesn't know how long it will take you your little trip to the supermarket but he tries to get ready as soon as possible.

You ran through the supermarket, you don't want to waste time when Simon is at home, you want to spend as much time as possible with him, you were putting your bags in your car when the sound of barking caught your attention, an old woman is selling puppies, you don't even know if that's still allowed but no one would judge you if you go to see the poor puppies, to your surprise there's just one «this is the last one» you heard the woman said, a little boy came to see it too, you were leaving until you heard the little boy talking to his mother. «Mom! Look! This puppy has a ghost face in his back!!! Can we take it with us?» «No honey, there's no space enough for puppies at home, let's go».

A ghost face in the back of the puppy? You looked at the dog carefully, indeed, there's a huge spot in the back that looks like a ghost, you remembered how much Simon wanted a dog a few months ago, the puppy looks perfect for him, also it's Valentine's day, friends can also surprise each other with presents, no?.

- How much for the dog?

- Do you want him? It's the last one... If you want it, take it for free.

- Oh! Really? Is there a problem with it or something?

- No, it's healthy, it has its vaccines and all, I just wanna go home, so do you want it or not?

You looked at the woman trying to find out if she was lying, after a moment you took the puppy in your arms, thanked the woman and went home.

- Simon! I'm home! I need help with the bags!

- Get it! I'll go in a minute.

He was nervous, he was watching himself in the mirror, everything looked nice, he smelled good and looked good, he had to admit he looked very handsome, he went to help and you were melting at the view, how this man can look so good all the time?.

- Si... Are you using perfume? You're not wearing sports clothes... Do you have a date or something?

- What? No, I just... took a shower, you told me to do it.

- oh yeah, sure, so... I have a surprise for you! Close your eyes, please!

- How will I help with the bags if I have to close my eyes?

- Forget about the bags! Please close your eyes!

He did and extended his arms, while you put the puppy in his arms, the puppy fell for Simon very quickly, he started to lick his finger.

- alright, open them!

- seriously?

You never saw him so excited for something, there he was, a perfect picture, Simon and... The still unnamed dog!

- Yes, do you like it? Consider it as a Valentine's gift! How would you like to name it?

- love, this is a wonderful present, thanks... And i don't know, we accept suggestions.

- I'm glad you liked it, it looks like he likes you too, and I was actually thinking about 'Riley' or 'ghost' since the spot In his back looks like your mask and your baklava...

He laughed, he was laughing, something that only you can do, he kept looking at the dog who was now trying to bite his fingers and then he looked at you, there's something different on his eyes, there's something else, a stranger spark.

- I think Riley is perfect. Y/N?

- Yes?

- I, I also have something for you, is... In the kitchen, Would you like to see it?

- Seriously? You didn't need to ask! Let's go!

You ran to the kitchen and the first thing you saw was a lot of balloons and small boxes and paper bags.

- What's all of this? All those are for me?

Simon put the dog on the floor to let it explore and walked to you.

- Yes, all are yours, I buy souvenirs or things that remind me of you every time I have a mission and write small notes to not forget why I bought it.

You started to open every box and bag and read every note «i saw this lipstick in the mall, I think it matches your skin tone» «these gloves reminded me of your small hands, it will keep them warm in my absence» «if you were a gem, I think you would be a sapphire» «I found it in the Market, maybe you will use it for your sketches» «I know how much you like to take photos, fill this album».

After a while you took a moment to see Ghost who's standing at the doorframe, there's no need to speak, you walked and kissed him softly, both have been feeling in the same way for so long.

- Happy Valentine's Simon.

- Happy Valentine's my love.

Price.

John and you were neighbors, you noticed he was a very busy man and you also noticed the food delivery service knocking at his door when he was around. That's how it started, you decided you wanted to give the poor man a proper meal when he's at home.

Eventually, you and him started to hangout and spend time together, it was clear for you the age difference between you and him, but who cares? The heart wants what it wants, but you know Price thinks differently, he told you about how insecure he feels when you're together and people of your Age approach to ask you for your number.

- You're a Sweetheart but people always think I'm your dad, have fun with people of your age, don't worry about me.

- John it'll be a Valentine's party! I won't go alone, I want to go with you but if you don't feel comfortable we can do something different, I don't mind.

In fact, you're so sweet, John doesn't know when or how exactly happened but he fell hard for you, you're younger than him but you talk as if you have the same experience as him, you are funny, you cook delicious, you're perfect for him, but he feels like he would be selfish for drag you to his way to live, he's not sure if you would be comfortable with something else than a friendship, he even talked about his dilemma with his boys.

- Cap, you're better than any man of her age, we're in a new era, Age is not a problem anymore.

- Gaz is right Captain, also if she prefers to spend time with you every time you're at home and cook for you doesn't make you think she probably feels the same way for you? Maybe love is in the air cap.

- I hate to say this, but maybe they're right Captain. Take the risk.

And that was all, that conversation made Price reconsider his options, and now here he is, cooking dinner for you, putting fresh flowers on the table and getting ready to confess what he has been feeling lately.

* knock, knock *

You look amazing, that blue outfit and the light make up definitely will make him fall at your feet, you also bring a very expensive but small present for him, today is the day, you will risk it all.

- Hey y/n, happy Valentine's, you are stunning today! Come in.

- Thanks John, you look very handsome too. oh! Before I forget, this is for you, I hope you like it

He opened the small box and oh my god, where did you get all the money you pay for that gorgeous watch? You're making very difficult for him to stop the urgency to kiss you.

- fuckin hell, is amazing, you didn't have to, I bet it costs a fortune...

- of course I needed, i couldn't stop to imagine it on your wrist! It's a classic!

He put the watch on his wrist, indeed you have a wonderful taste, it looks good on him.

- Doll, you didn't have to, I love it.

He couldn't contain himself, he hugged you, you tried to smell and retain in your lungs the perfume he was using, this man is so handsome, strong, elegant, he is perfect for you.

- come on sweetie, dinner is ready, do u want a drink?

- Sure, do you need help with something?

- Oh no, it's okay, all is under control, what do you want to drink? I have... Fuck, uh, I have water, sparkling water, juice, soda or whiskey, but if you want something else I can go to the store quickly.

You laughed, why is he so... Nervous?.

- John, it's fine, a Whiskey is perfect!

- alright love, a whiskey is on the way.

The meal was delicious, the conversation was funny and interesting, he taught you to dance a little, the drinks were also helping both of you to be brave.

- I have to sit, I'm getting older sweetie, you're a good dancer, I also have to give you your present, wait here...

He left the room and you sat on the table waiting impatiently, he was fast, he went back with a box with a pink big ribbon adorning it.

- Here it is, I... I spent a whole week looking for the perfect ones, I hope you like it.

You looked like a little kid on Christmas, you broke the paper, untied the ribbon and when you opened the box you found the most beautiful jewelry, the necklace was made of pearls and emeralds, the earrings were two small emeralds to match the necklace and a silver bracelet, you screamed with excitement, you stood up from your chair and gave small jumps.

- Jesus Christ! John... There's no way I can't accept all this, is amazing, is perfect, and I bet it's also fuckin' expensive!

- Doll, please accept it, you've been doing a lot for me since we met, it's the least I can do... And...

He took the bracelet and put it on your wrist, he held your hand carefully and put your hand under the light of a lamp.

- there's a secret message on the bracelet...

Indeed the bracelet had a message engraved. «To my one and only, I love you.»

You looked at him and he smiled at you nervously and before he could try to break eye contact you held his face with your free hand and kissed him.

- I love you too John Price, I love you too.

[chemicallywrit]

Happy Audio Drama Sunday! I heard so many good shows this week, let’s goooooo

🥃 I started listening to @breakerwhiskey this week, and I’m on episode 21 (which is nothing, it’s microfic), and it is so compelling. Lauren Shippen said in episode zero that she misses the improvisational feel of early audio dramas and that really comes through in this show—the wandering of the story reflects the wandering of Whiskey herself. I can’t wait to see what happens next.

🎵I am not alone in my reaction to the new season of @hellofromthehallowoods, which I think goes something like, “Wh—who—but—Arnold?????” (Seriously, Arnold???) but I love a mystery, and I love how linear this season is starting out. I’m sure that it’ll all get more complicated soon.

💔 Have you all heard Josie’s Lonely Hearts Club? It’s a call-in advice show from a fictional radio station and it is HILARIOUS. Until this last episode, which got SAD. It's a partially improvised show, so the whole thing feels so incredibly human and it always hits. Please listen, more fictional advice shows all around.

🐺 The Midnight Burger/The Amelia Project crossover was exactly as delightful as I expected. We got two shows that love historical figures and putting people in the deep freeze. What could go wrong! Absolutely nothing. With a crossover episode I always wonder if there will be enough character interaction to slake my insatiable character dynamic thirst and for this one I definitely think there was.

🍺 Inn Between dropped an episode of Dragon’s Rest on their feed this week, and I'm here to say that we did that because it's frikkin hilarious. This last episode was so good, especially with Shax trying to talk to a bartender and the bartender getting mad that Shax was complaining about her friends and not having a professional business conversation. I love you, southern-sounding bartender, and I love you Shax.

🩸Hemophobia continues to scare the heck out of me. This series, Camp Havenside, ended exactly how I expected it to, with the extra twist of that horrible half-possessed state Sam is in. Lordt. Listen to this show. Mind the content warnings. Then like, message me about it, it has taken permanent residence in my brain.

🎭 Oh Malevolent, you never disappoint me. I adore the twists the season finale took, and the real danger Arthur and John were in had me on the edge of my seat. How are we gonna get outta this one boys! Frikkin Kayne.

💎 As it ever is, @kingmakerpod was a blessing visited upon my podcatcher. Oh man though, Lucas Lando, what a scuzbag. Like maybe the worst villain yet in this series for me, and I'm including the psychic child. Lando's just unsavory. The action scenes in this episode were excellent, and I love the use of Pocket Cinnamon. For a minute when they were looking for things in the barn that don't conduct electricity, I was very worried for the cows. Honestly now a little surprised they didn't explode a cow. Hey guys, why didn't you explode a cow?

🌈 I've been listening to this actual play, @ourstoriedinsight, and it's about all the typical actual play stuff--a party of misfit adventurers, thrown together by circumstance, trying to stop the end of the world. What stands out about this one is its wonderful sound design and its tone--it's so introspective and kind. The characters are great too. I would die for Vishakapar. If you like an actual play and you don't want to wait for it to get really good, please check out Our Storied Insight.

As for personal news, boy oh boy am I working hard on the Dead! Pray for our recording schedule these next couple weeks. As for Inn Between, we'll be putting up an episode this week that is a true banger, I hope you like it.

That's it for me this week! If you like what I do, send me a tip!

[ratboydefenselawyer]

This is my first and probably last post I will ever make. I’m here to consume the content, not necessarily create it.

I see all of you fighting the good fight for Billy and his story. And I wanted to add my thoughts into the ring.

As someone who works with children and adults from abusive backgrounds EVERY SINGLE DAY. I can tell you that Billy checks every single box for being in his survival state 24/7.

I have had extensive trainings about trauma, how to recognize it and the effects it can have on a person and how they act. Personally I have endured a lot of trauma myself and had to unlearn a lot of unhealthy behaviors and ways of thinking because of it.

With that being said: someone who is in a state of survival constantly is not capable of thinking rationally, the only goal is to…survive.

Billy Hargrove was an abused child. A CHILD. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. Does this forgive his actions? No. But it explains them. Gives us a deeper insight into the “why?”

Neil hit his son, he insulted him, called him a slur and then reminded him that Max, his younger stepsister’s well-being is in his hands. That’s a lot for a 17 year old to go through. Then he goes to the Byers residence where he’s insulted and lied to. His sister (who’s well-being is in his hands) is alone with 5 boys, one of them is his age? THEN to top it all off, Steve punches him? All that built up rage from what just happened with Neil comes spilling out. Oh and to make matters worse, he gets sedated and Max MIRRORS Neil’s abuse by making him repeat himself. Keep this in mind, while all this is going on Billy has absolutely no idea what is going on. He still doesn’t know what Max is doing with all of these boys in this house.

Moving forward- Billy gets possessed by the mind flayer, he still has no idea what is going on and loses control of his own body. He had to watch as his hands take the lives of many people to feed this creature from his worst nightmares. Then this group of children lock him in a sauna, he is FINALLY able to beg for help and sobs. Even then NOBODY tells him what’s going on, no one really makes an effort to help him. It’s only in the final episode of season 3 that El breaks through to him, she see’s his past, his mom leaving, the abuse. Even standing up to the mind flayer Billy has no idea what he’s up against, he’s still in the dark. All he knows is that it’s him or this child that showed him how to come back to himself. It’s him or Max, and as we already know Max’s well-being is in his hands. Nothing is more terrifying than Neil’s wrath. And in his dying breath he apologizes.

For my fellow Billy Stans- Please never let anyone bully you about what characters you can and can’t like. Your ability to see deeper into the characters and push past the hate is needed in this world. Not just in fiction, but in the real world. If you relate to Billy as I do, from past trauma, I am so sorry. I am so very sorry that you have to fight, explain and rationalize your love for him every time. For whatever reason you stand behind Billy Hargrove, it is valid. And unlike Billy’s story, I hope that yours doesn’t end in tragedy. My inbox is always open for those who need to talk.

Now, for the Antis- I want to say, good for you. You managed to take a broken and deeply complex character and reduce him to a heartless villain in your minds. Think what you want about him, it really doesn’t matter. What does matter is how you act to the people who do relate to Billy. The name calling, the hate, the wild assumptions about real people!! It’s so insane to me. I hope that turning into the bully to make a point was worth it. How other people relate to a character doesn’t affect you in any way at all. Somehow many of you have managed to put people down and make them afraid to express their love for a character. It’s not something to be proud of.

I am not willing to argue with anyone on this, this is just my views and my opinion. Dacre Montgomery stated that he worked hard to humanize Billy Hargrove. Seeing his character be dragged through the mud and continuously be turned into the irredeemable monster by the Duffer Brothers and the fans is just really sad.

Billy Hargrove means a lot to me. For a lot of different reasons. He deserved so much more than he was given. He deserved a chance to redeem himself and to tell his side of the story. He deserved a chance to apologize for everything he did in his survival state. He deserved the chance to finally be happy and be surrounded by people who actually cared for him, who wanted to help him.

Just keep going everyone. ❤️

[especiallythewomenandthechildren]

As If Destiny (part three)🌹

Part Two 🌹🌹

Summary: You've always been kind hearted yet admirably defiant. Or that is at least one of the ways Coriolanus Snow would describe you. Ever since grade school, you have always been on the same level as him in academics and one of his few competitors for the Plinth Prize. But as tragedy struck your family, Coriolanus thought you would fall away from his life, but instead, you got even more intertwined (not to mention the complicated past knots tying your families together).

Warnings: Terminal illness, parent death, death and brutality (it is the hunger games after all) characters may be ooc. I read the book a while ago but don't really remember much of Snows way of thinking (I mean I know its toxic and insane but yk the other things) so I will mostly be basing off the film and my own thoughts. Also I can't spell for the life of me so be prepared for bad spelling and grammar. Enjoy loves!

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what is happening. why am i doing this. why am i doing this. Coriolanus couldn't stop the parade of panicked thoughts going through his head. Each step he took was possibly another step closer to the ruin of his name and family for good. But you wouldn't tell anyone. No you wouldn't. You wouldn't right?

You weren't really in the best of states before they made it to your home, but now you seemed far to awake for his preference. If you were still in your slightly delusional state, you may not notice the cracks in his walls, the mold seeping through the ceilings, and the ever permanent stench of poverty.

You and Coriolanus have long let go hands as he let go once the realization that he was taking you to his rugged home. His hand began profusely sweating and he began walking at an increased pace due to his nerves. You were lagging behind, having to run every few meters to catch up to his long strides.

You could tell he was immensely bothered and uncomfortable with the current situation and you simply couldn't take it anymore. "It's okay Coryo, I will be fine. I really appreciate your invitation but there is no need." You say to him in the slightly chilly night air. He turns around at your words and noticed you stopped and are a bit of a ways behind him. He quickly shakes his head in disagreement and sticks his hand you toward you.

You give him a gentle smile paired with a gentle shake of your head and begin to turn around and walk home. Seeing your movement, Snow quickly rushes to your side and puts his hands on your forearms to stop you. "Really it's not that bad, I'm sure that's the worst of it and -" "I said you are coming home with me and I meant it y/n. You need one night of proper sleep." His hands still on your forearms as he turned you around in the direction of the streets leading to the Snow home.

"Will you be able to sleep?" You say quietly, barely audible. He turns to you, his handsome face confused. You take his expression as an invitation to elaborate. "This entire time you haven't said a word and seem paranoid and worried. You are fidgeting and seem to be in a battle with yourself in that head of yours. I don't wish to be a burden to you Coryo or your family. Whatever the reason may be that is worrying you, you don't need to tell me or show me. I'm going home, your gestures of kindness have been enough. You've taken care of me enough for tonight."

He stared at you for a few moments, seeming to gather his thoughts and convert them into words. No, he hasn't taken care of you enough. If he had, you wouldn't be out in the cold at who knows what hour at this point, with deep bags and a hollowed face. He wished to take care of you more now than he wished to keep his wealth (or lack there of) a secret. But then again, Coriolanus Snow couldn't just risk everything for you. He had his family and future to take care of.

But as you were waiting for him to respond, your waves of sleep deprivation hit you as you began swaying, nearly losing your balance. The boy was quick to notice and held you to steady yourself for what felt like the millionth time that night. But he wasn't complaining. He liked the feeling that he was stabilizing you. Protecting you. Saving you. And in that moment, he decided that you were worth the risk.

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The streets were empty as you and the curly blonde haired boy walked in comfortable silence. He had his arm around your waist, in fear of you falling, of course. Or that is what he would say if you objected, which you didn't. You once again were lost in your head but thinking about the moment you were in with Coriolanus made you break the silence.

"It was rebels." If Coryo was willing to trust you with whatever was waiting ahead in his home, you were willing to trust him with the truth about your mother. You felt his eyes on you but you kept your forward as you continued. "My mother's condition. The war destroyed our home so we moved with little money left. It wasn't a very big or lavish apartment but it was enough for me qnd my mom and the few staff we had left. My father was out in the districts, rebuilding his empire and wealth so we didn't see him very much. One day, my mother was moving a few objects around and the floor broke by "accidnet".

The scoff and hollowness of your voice was harshly apparent. "The floor exposed a water well, something we needed as you remember how hard it was to find clean water even years after the dark days. Everyone in the house claimed a miracle. A second one in those days." You stopped your story to gulp back emotion. Coriolanus took note as your eyes became glossy but you pushed the tears back. He wanted to stop your story if it made you uncomfortable but then again, he was trusting you with factors that made him uncomfortable, why shouldn't you do the same?

You continued "She was pregnant. I dont know if it was going to be a boy or girl, it was too early. But because of her state, we all agreed that she would have the water exclusively from the well. How they knew of her pregnancy and infiltratied our home I don't know. But about three weeks of drinking the water, she woke up in pools of blood. One from her mouth as she choked blood up but she didn't care once she saw the blood between her legs. The scream she had that day is what I hear every time she opens her mouth now in pain. That's why I threw myself into that project. I don't care about the Plinth Prize if that's what you were thinking. We all know you deserve it the most."

You wrapped up your story at the same time you both reached his home. He let go of your waist and stepped right infront of you. Both pairs of eyes looked deep into one another's. "I'm so sorry y/n. For everything and for not helping earlier. But maybe it will give you some relief that not all of us are without scars and suffering." He looked up at his once magnificent family home in shame. You followed his eyes and for the first time, took in his home. The place he ate, slept, and lived.

You noticed the deep cracks in the walls, the broken windows, and flickering lights. But even with all that, it brought a small genuine smile to your face. He trusted you. You were going to be in his home. He trusted you to be in his home. You turned your head and met his eyes with a look that made your smile vanish. He seemed upset and slightly harsh, translating to his next words.

"Why are you smiling" oh. He must think that you smiling because you were going to expose him. Once the realization hit you, you were rushing to explain. Mumbling and cutting yourself off, you explained to him that his trust brought the smile to your face. "I would never betray you Coryo. It just feels nice knowing that you trust me, I know there aren't many people on that list." You were right. The only people he truly trusted were in the shambled and barely hanging on apartment above. And you clearly trusted him with explaining the story of your mother.

He began moving towards the door, opening it up for you but you stopped infront of it and turned to him. "I know my words won't mean much and won't replace your situation, but for what it's worth, you have something most of our peers don't. Most of us had to move or renovated our apartments so much they look like a completely different one. You however, have your ancestral home. All the Snow generations have lived in the very place you do and you get to keep the tradition going. I think that's a wealth none of us can reach." You give him a shy smile with the notorious duck of your head and walked in.

He stood there for a little while, stunned. He had never thought of his breaking apartment like that before and your sincerity made his shame dissipate a slight bit. With a satisfied smile, he lead you up to his house.

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A/N: hey guys! Hope you all liked this new part!! I meant to extend into scenes into the apartment but I think I will leave it for part 4 and get this out there sooner. I hope was close enough to Croyos thought process. I know he isn't a great guy but I think in the beginning he wasn't really evil, just morally gray. So I tried to do some sort of balance idk. Anyways I'm just ranting at this point, have a great day loves❤️

@fantasylovestoryme 🌹@nekee-lilac02 🌹 @notyourwildestdream 🌹@darktrashsoulbear 🌹

[wheneclipsefalls]

Would you be willing to write a chapter where Neteyam gives Kxolo a lap dance? hehehe 😏😏😏👀👀👀

Pairing: Omega Aged Up Neteyam x Alpha Male OC

Masterlist AO3

Warnings: eplicit NSFW content, omegaverse, established relationship, power imbalance, aged up characters, anal, dom/sub dynamics, stockholm syndrome, not an exhaustive list. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Important note: This drabble takes place in the future in the Ma Neteyam universe, after the first book.

A/N: Thank you for waiting so long! You'll have to be patient with my writing on this one. It felt like word choice and I were duking it out, but I had a lot of fun writing it. If you enjoy it, as always, comments reblogs and asks mean the world to me and motivates me to write more! Enjoy<3

Kxolo shifted the feathers laying across his shoulders again. Wearing the ceremonial clothing had always been an honor and one that the alpha never took lightly but right now it felt as if the material was going to suffocate him. Still, he couldn’t let the appearance of his annoyance shine through. Especially not on a day like today. His birthday. 

A day where the entire clan had come together and decided to throw a festival lasting from mid afternoon until deep into the night. He knew he had Neteyam to thank for many of the details that went into such an occasion. His sweet omega had been running rampant for the past moon cycle, organizing every little surprise and delight in secret until the big day. More times than one he had found the boy huddled in the healer’s tent to speak with his cousin in hushed whispers. 

Try as he might, Neteyam had been relentless in keeping every morsel of this day a surprise and truly he had to admit that it had been perfect. His favorite food, people, music and location all rolled in together in spectacular celebration. 

Kxolo subconsciously ran his thumb over the new smooth leather of his knife sheath. The same one that Neteyam had woken him up with this morning as a gift. His little mate couldn’t wait another five minutes before nervously presenting the hand crafted gift. His old sheath had been completely thrown aside and forgotten in favor of this personalized one, something he knew would continue to be the case. However, before he had the chance to thank his mate properly, they were interrupted by friends already putting into play the first part of the day’s festivities 

It had been a real strain to put on a wide smile and act like his closest friends weren’t being the worst cock block imaginable. 

As much as he loved the effort and true love that had gone into the celebration it was also the main thing that had kept Neteyam busy and away from their hut for the majority of their days. The boy had been zipping back and forth across the village with only small kisses to give before slipping from his grip to do the next task. 

The last time Neteyam had wiggled himself off of the alpha’s lap amid passionate kissing, Kxolo had been dangerously close to insisting on canceling the lavish events just so he could have his omega back for more than five minutes. However, he could never do that. Not when Neteyam looked up at him with those golden eyes that sparkled with excitement and mischief as he once again denied Kxolo’s request to be filled in on details. How was he supposed to take that away from his little love? 

“Brother, I can tell that extra year has already aged you into an old man.” Pulo settled beside him on a stump, handing over another wineskin full of strong drink. The party continued forward with a blurry of crowded dancing and intoxicated youth slipping off to hide their drunkenness. 

He considered going over to reprimand them, but resisted. 

Let the boys have some fun. It’s a party after all.

“I fear it is this mysterious concoction from Epok that has brought me there.” Kxolo responded but took another swig regardless. Even with his experience drinking the alcoholic fermented fruit, he had to admit that this was the strongest batch Epok had made in years. He made a mental note to keep the substance away from Neteyam. No doubt the sweet boy would be toppled over within a few sips. 

“Soft as a flower, you’ve become.” Pulo teased, earning him a playful jab to the ribs. “Your little omega is already running circles around you.” 

Kxolo’s eyes shifted back over to where Neteyam was continuing to dance without a care. It was a good look on him. A rare sight to behold, the eldest Sully child letting himself go. So far it had been the Olo’eyktan’s favorite part of the night, especially when Neteyam rolled his hips sensually to the beat of the base drum. At some point however, the dancing had turned into such erotica that Kxolo became ever more conscious of any wandering gazes. 

He knew pushing Neteyam to Vamai would come back to bite him. 

“He’s been doing that for weeks.” 

“Ah, I see.” Pulo mused. “Someone missing their one on one time?” 

Kxolo’s eyes shot like daggers to his chuckling friend. Leave it to Pulo to tease him on his birthday without a hint of remorse. However, Kxolo couldn’t deny that he appreciated how easily Pulo could read his emotions. Many times they required little words to communicate with one another. 

“Wait, does this mean you didn’t like our little surprise this morning?” Pulo let out an overdone gasp, hand placing over his heart with a feigned wounded expression. “Surely our mighty Olo’eyktan would never wish to be away from his People.” 

Kxolo rolled his eyes before swinging them back to his dancing omega. 

“Of course not.” Another swig of alcohol and it burned just as much as the first. 

His internal pouting, however, was cut short when Neteyam stumbled over towards him. Not willing to let the opportunity, or rather omega, slip away, his arms reached out and snatched the boy onto his lap. Neteyam’s drunken giggle rang through the air as he allowed himself to be manhandled across the Olo’eyktan’s muscular thighs. 

“There you are.” Kxolo drawled out along Neteyam’s ear. Pulo’s little snort was ignored as he continued to run his flat nose over the column of his mate’s throat. 

“You stopped dancing.” 

“I enjoyed watching.” Kxolo reviled in the way Neteyam still blushed at comments like that, even after all this time being mated. He nosed at the rising tint blossoming over his cheeks. 

“You’ve liked your birthday then?” Neteyam attempted to turn his face and get a good look at the male but his alpha was already nuzzled into the crook of his neck. 

“Mmm very much so. It’s perfect.” The feathers magically no longer itched as he was embraced with the sweet warm scent of his love. He basked in the swirled of essence that had been oh so missed over the last few weeks. 

Neteyam on the other hand apparently had decided this distraction would be the chance to grasp at the wineskin in Kxolo’s hands. The alpha just barely managed to whip it away before those small fingers could clasp around it. 

“Ah ah, this one’s not for you, baby boy.” Kxolo struggled to hold in the deep chuckle at the sight of Neteyam’s pouting, scrunched up expression. It was clear the boy was already tipsy from the watered down communal alcohol. One swig would be enough to swirl him into incoherency and for sure then their night would be over. “Trust me, you don’t want it.” 

To prove his point further, the open bottle was brought under Neteyam’s nose. Instantly the omega scrunched up even more and turned away. Kxolo’s laughter rumbled against the boy’s back. 

“I asked Epok to make the drinks but if you don’t like-”

“It is perfect. Mawey, sweet one.” 

Neteyam visibly relaxed but a hint of that mischief still shined through. 

“So perfect that you won’t let me try it?” Despite Neteyam’s batting lashes and lip bite Kxolo was compelled to once again deny his request. Instead he opted to playfully nip at that trapped bottom lip. Neteyam blushed a deeper red, pushing back at his alpha’s shoulders. He was not easily swayed, instead wrapping his arms around the boy's waist and pulling him closer until the omega couldn’t escape the persistent kissing. 

Contrary to Neteyam’s outraged little squeak, his tails flickered with excitement. 

“I suppose here is as good a place as any, but do let me know if I should herd the children away, brother.” Pulo smirked but it was short lived as a harsh yank pulled at his braids. Pulo’s mate did not back down from his responding hiss. Resaal flashed him a cunning smirk.

“Leave them be, won’t you? Olo’eyktan is not required to let your jesting slip by, no matter how long you have known him.” Resaal scolded but it only lit a fire in Pulo’s eyes. 

“I too am neither required to put up with your bossy attitude, paskalin.” 

“So you think.” Resaal purred, back away when Pulo reached for her hips. With confidence bursting from the seams she gracefully lured the other alpha away from the pair, a welcome intervention in Kxolo’s opinion. He made a mental note to think twice before sending Resaal away with a scavenging party for months on end. He loved his friend, but Pulo often became restless without his mate to challenge that fire out of him. 

“Sweet peace.” Kxolo sighed before diving back in to leave kisses along Neteyam’s throat. 

“Wait wait, I have a surprise for you.” 

“So many surprises, baby boy. You have done enough.” Kxolo leveled his voice to sound sweet and endearing but he couldn’t deny that a part of him dreaded another celebratory surprise, especially with his omega already so sweetly perched in his lap. So close to the goal and yet his own birthday seemed to be getting in the way of what he wanted most. 

“You will like this one. I promise.” It was the waver in Neteyam’s voice that caught his attention. Hesitation clearly spanned over the omega’s features and it made his own tail perk in alert. “Come.” Neteyam demanded, taking the alpha’s larger hand in his own to pull him away. 

Finally realizing that his wishes were about to come true, Kxolo let himself be pulled along. Excitement ramped higher as the omega began leading them towards the outskirts of the party. He did, however, not miss the way Vamai and Neteyam exchanged a secret look, the other omega nodding in response before running off to speak with the musicians. 

The only thing growing faster than his curiosity was Kxolo’s lust as he abashedly watched his mate’s hips side to side with each step. It had been too long, far too long and Kxolo suddenly remembered what it was like to be an insatiable teenager again. He hadn’t so desperately yearned for physical affection from Neteyam since the first few weeks he had stolen the boy away. 

It was an experience he had no desire to repeat, every day feeling like a battle as he held himself back from acting on his most carnal yearnings. 

Neteyam led them deeper into the forest until they were out of sight of any clan members but the music still rippled through the trees. 

When Neteyam gently pushed his shoulders down until Kxolo was sitting on a stump the alpha wasted no time in pulling his mate onto his lap and connecting their lips once more. He allowed his hands to wander greedily over the omega’s soft skin, squeezing at the plump flesh of his exposed ass. 

“You are right, I do enjoy this surprise, little one.” He breathed out, barely letting their lips disconnect for a second. Neteyam on the other hand was slowly starting reel back and fumble a sentence together.

“Wait, yawne. This is not-” He gasped when Kxolo teeth sunk down on the exposed hickey lining his throat. “N-not the surprise.”

The alpha simply hummed in response, already getting to work on bringing the bruise back to its full color. 

“Wait w-wait wait.” Neteyam rambled before somehow wiggling out of the alpha’s possessive grasp. Kxolo went to stand up and follow but he was gently urged to stay seated. 

“Neteyam,” Kxolo drawled, voice on the edge of a deep growl. 

“Just stay for a second.” Neteyam pecked his lips but that nervous demeanor had returned. Curiosity once again took the reins so Kxolo reluctantly listened to his orders. It was rare to see the boy so demanding and he was not about to scare its appearance away. 

Neteyam took a steadying breath, nerves already flashing over his angelic features but the omega’s hands told another story. They skated over Kxolo shoulders and along the vibrant feathers. He was ready to bask in the touch without the barrier so Kxolo rashly shrugged the traditional attire off.  For a moment he swore he could hear his father's rough voice scolding him.

An Olo’eyktan must always remember his status.

An Olo’eyktan does not carelessly toss such symbols.

His fingers  twitched, tempted to place it back over his shoulders but then there were Neteyam’s small hands tracing every vein along his neck and collarbones. His father’s brash voice floated away and there was only Neteyam. 

Only Neteyam.

The one person that Kxolo could truly be himself with. The only person that was able to wash away the burdens of leadership simply with his soothing presence. 

His father was not here, it was only them. 

Kxolo’s hands did their own exploring, marveling at the boy’s tapered waist and curved hips. Each male petted with a reverence that sung out like a silent prayer of appreciation. Although he could already feel his member straining against his restricting loincloth, Kxolo allowed himself to sink into the slow build up of the movement. 

Neteyam’s hips swayed, but this time not from simple walking. Instead they whipped to the beat of the drum. In perfect accordance with the music, that beautiful form curved and rolled sensually. He had seen Neteyam dance before, especially when under the influence of strong drink, but this was different. 

It was unashamed.

It was erotic. 

One leg swept backwards in a drawled semicircle along the ground before placing his foot on the other side of Kxolo's thigh. Now practically straddling the alpha’s leg, Neteyam dragged his inner thighs along him. It rippled a shiver up Kxolo’s spine and when he looked up to find Neteyam blushing profusely, it only tempered another flare in his heart.

His perfect omega. 

It was undoubtedly new territory for both of them. The closest thing that the couple had participated in were a few forbidden sensual dances at celebrations. Although Neteyam's nerves were ever present, the boy continued to grind and roll to the rhythm perfectly. 

His smooth transitions spoke volumes of the time that Neteyam had no doubt put into practicing this specific dance. Thinking of the omega practicing such an erotic dance Kxolo knew it had Vamai’s name written all over it. 

He went to rise and join his mate in this explicit dance but Neteyam shook his head once more, making the male sit down with a huff again. A flurry of emotions raged through him and when Neteyam turned the other way so he had an obstructed view of his perky backside, Kxolo swore he was on the edge of ruin. 

His sultry gaze couldn’t stay away from the beautiful display before him, not with his omega’s sweet scent now evermore present than before. It infiltrated the Olo’eyktan’s senses until there was nothing left but the throbbing of his loins. 

Kxolo went to pull him back towards him but this time Neteyam required little persuasion as he bent to hover his backside over his pulsating erection. Instead of sitting fully, the omega swiped his tail and ass gently over the area, creating figure eight patterns. It was a soft type of torture, the smallest touches creating an ravenous rush through him.

As he gripped those hips and watched the way bioluminescent lights bounced off of Neteyam’s swerving body, Kxolo swore this was the longest song in existence. The harder Kxolo dug his fingers into Neteyam’s flesh the higher the omega’s confidence slowly grew. Gone was the blossoming blush, now replaced with a flushed countenance and blown out pupils. 

Kxolo was sure his little mate would deny it but there was surely a part of him that enjoyed torturing his alpha. It was evident in the way his eyes sparkled every time he had to refuse Kxolo’s demands to sit down fully. 

He was tempted to stamp that mischievous fire out, to show what happens when naughty omegas taunt their alphas, but he let him continue. No matter how impatient and downright desperate he was becoming, the Olo’eyktan did not want to associate retribution with Neteyam’s new attitude too quickly. There was something all too satisfying about the push and pull of such interactions; not that he could let Neteyam know that. 

Kxolo swore he no longer had control over his hands as they wandered over his body incessantly. It was extremely rewarding however when a sharp tug to Neteyam’s nipple had that familiar gasp rising to the surface. The omega stuttered slightly in his movements but didn’t let it deter him for long. 

He was starting to question whether or not this was a surprise or a punishment when Neteyam stood back up and slipped out of his reach. The hanging crystals making up his shall worked perfectly to glisten in the moonlight and bring attention to every movement. 

A mental image of ripping those beads off with his teeth came to the forefront. Of course Neteyam would be upset. He would also be upset at Kxolo messing up the intricate designs painted across his chest and thigh, but he would recover. The Olo’eyktan was willing to take the consequences in any form that it came, as long as it meant having his way with the boy finally. 

It began to grade at his nerves this game of ‘you can look but you can’t touch’. At one point he swiped out to catch Neteyam’s tail but the omega tripped slightly and glared back at him. 

Kxolo was on the edge of pinning the boy down when Neteyam finally sashayed back over to him. Sitting backwards on his lap and circling those sinful hips once more, Kxolo did not wait to be invited to have a taste. He bit down harshly at the back of the omega’s left shoulder. 

The responding small mewl was a greater symphony than the entire song combined. It laced the contours of the drums increasing build in a perfect masterpiece. 

Neteyam struggled to continue the choreographed movements as his mate’s groping became strategically calculated. Those long fingers tickled and swirled along his most sensitive and private areas, ones that only his alpha knew by heart. When a warm palm slid over the front of his loincloth to cup him, Neteyam jerked back with a little shriek.

“That is not part of the show.” He managed to quip back. 

Kxolo simply chuckled, hand now slipping underneath the waistband.

“Perhaps the encore then, little one” 

“Let me finish.” Neteyam whined, hips already bucking upwards on the contrary. 

Kxolo’s hot breath tickled at his ears until those soft lips were tracing his right ear’s shape. 

“You will finish, omega. As many times as I decide.” That dark promise sealed his fate within a breath. It was endearing to watch the way Neteyam still squirmed and insisted on getting to the end of the song, even as his small cock twitched with each stroke against it. 

He would make it up to the boy later, let him do the dance to his heart’s content, but Kxolo was tired of waiting. 

Even an Olo’eyktan has a limit to his patience. 

“You keep trying to run off, rude little thing.” 

Neteyam whimpered, muscles in his legs finally giving out as the pleasure became too much. 

“Just b-been busy.” He exhaled out an exaggerated breath, finally letting the alpha dispose of his loincloth and get to work. “Wanted to make it per…ah…perfect.”

“It is perfect and so are you. Now stop trying to steal my omega away from me. Otherwise I can’t promise to always play nice.” 

Neteyam started to rut up against the male’s hand in rapid motion, but all that did was rub him back against Kxolo’s member tortuously.  

“Or fair.” Neteyam gritted out between clenched teeth. 

Kxolo chuckled darkly before tucking his chin over Neteyam’s right shoulder, giving him the perfect view of his mate’s twitching cock in his grasp. When Neteyam began to shudder and shake, eyes clenching shut with a cry, the Olo’eyktan simply cood out mocking praises and kissed his sweaty temple. 

It became ever so clear that he was not the only one wound up after so much time apart. 

Neteyam’s body had become familiar terrain for the alpha. Even a shift in his scent could trigger how close his omega was to finding sweet relief. It was a fact he took advantage of quite often because there was nothing more addicting than pulling out new sounds from his mate’s lips, that is besides the feeling of Neteyam’s tight heat milking him for all he is worth. 

“P-please c-can I…hmm….need to….”

“Perhaps.” Kxolo mused, placing another kiss to his shoulder blade as he sped up the pace. 

“Daddy please!” 

A feral grin spread over his lips.

“Cum for me.”

Neteyam followed the order almost simultaneously and when he did Kxolo gave in to his intrusive thoughts. With sharp fangs he gathered a chunk of beads and strands and ripped them away violently. The beads went flying in every which direction but now there was a no layer of protection between Neteyam’s soft skin and Kxolo’s torment. 

When his fangs sunk into the supple flesh, Neteyam shook uncontrollably.

He took his time nursing and sucking at the mark until his mate was whining and trying to pry Kxolo’s hand off of his overstimulated length. 

The omega’s chest heaved up and down in a rapid pace but Neteyam’s wafting scent told him everything he needed to know. It spoke of that still ever rising desire, a flame that was easily recouping to match Kxolo’s own. 

“Soaked for me already.” Kxolo whispered, rolling his own hips up until Neteyam’s arousal was staining the front of his loincloth. 

“Alpha…” Neteyam reached back, fingers trying to grasp onto something; anything. They found a hold on the alpha’s waistband and that was all the encouragement Kxolo needed to rip off chuck the garment away. 

Were this any other night the Olo’eyktan would watch that neediness grow, appreciate every shift in Neteyam’s demeanor until his omega was so fucked out that pleas bled from his lips uncontrollably. 

Tonight, however, Kxolo found himself just as insatiable. Every minute without that tight hole wrapped around him was another of the alpha’s torment. Neteyam only made matters worse as he began to rub back against him, almost as if he could find a way to slip his alpha’s cock inside of him just from grinding. 

Kxolo’s hand snatched the front of Neteyam’s throat so fast it expelled all the oxygen from his lungs in a burst. Eyes rolling backwards, he rolled his head backwards to rest against the alpha’s collarbones. 

“Baby boy.” He growled. Using the other hand he reached beneath them and positioned the tip just barely at Neteyam’s slick entrance. “You’re going to take all of me, aren’t you?”

Eyes glistening with tears, Neteyam nodded hazily while pushing back.

Not good enough. 

“Say it.” 

His bulbous tip slipped just past the rim and Kxolo had to bite back a plethora of curses.

“Daddy I want to take all of your cock. Please!”

With one smooth thrust, Kxolo seated himself fully inside of the omega. 

Who was he to deny such pretty pleas from his little mate?

“Great Mother, Neteyam! How did this little hole manage to get tighter?” His chest rumbled fervently and Kxolo once again felt another oral fixation coming on. The pretty marks covering Neteyam’s shoulder captivated him endlessly. Refreshing the color could never hurt. 

“R-ready. Ready ready ready.” Neteyam babbled. 

It was tempting to tease it out longer but Kxolo’s hips seemed to have another idea in mind as it took all of his concentration to not buck up into him. When he did, however, the result was electrifying. That clenching cavern fit him so perfectly, letting him carve out the space until there was not a doubt that this angel of a being was his. 

No matter how many times they intertwined so intimately, nothing could ever erase the awe that washed over him every time Neteyam allowed him inside. The awe that they had finally made it, that they were mated and one before Eywa. 

It was as if Neteyam could read his mind because he was quickly reaching back behind him to connect their neural queues hastily. As with every other time, warmth crashed through him boldly. It was the greatest satisfaction to feel his mate’s pleasure strumming through the bond, to know that he was pleasing the love of his life. 

Their movements quickly became messy, spiraling out of control as Neteyam tried to rise up and down in tandem with Kxolo’s thrusts. When their lips found each other once more it was nothing but animalistic, a frenzy of urgency that neither was willing to live with. Had a clan member found them now, Kxolo was sure they would be shocked to see their naturally composed Olo’eyktan so untamed, unable to gather the slightest restraint. 

That was the beauty of it.

Neteyam from the very beginning had brought out a side of him that he could express nowhere else. 

Those special pieces of him belonged to his omega and his omega only. 

Kxolo had to admire Neteyam’s rebounding sex drive. His fragrant essence was already tipping towards that natural burst of ecstasy quickly. 

“Look at you. Already to the edge and ready for more.” Embarrassment was far from Neteyam’s mind, simply content to soak up the praise without objection. “What did I say?” 

He plummeted to that special bundle of nerves and Neteyam couldn’t hold back his vibrant cry. 

“As…..nahh….as many times as you decide.” 

“Good boy.” Kxolo’s eyes shut on their own accord as his hips snapped upwards frantically. “Don’t hold back on me. Want that glimmering cum painting you inside and out.” 

“Yes Daddy.” 

If the trembling was any indication his mate was just as close to coming undone as he was. A new resolve sparked within him. The Olo’eyktan increased his efforts tenfold but then there was a small hand grasping his jaw. Neteyam’s tongues forcefully pushed its way past Kxolo’s lips and to the alpha’s surprise, claimed that area with ease. Their groans danced heatedly into the kiss until it was hard to recognize which taste was his own versus Neteyam’s.

The omega’s gummy walls squeezed around him just as Neteyam bit down on his lower lip. The pain rippled into a beautiful harmony with the height of his pleasure as they both reached peak together. Kxolo’s body took control, arms reaching out to make sure that not an inch of space could be formed between them. 

Pelvis flush against the omega’s ass, warm seed painted those inner walls. 

Through the bond he could track the moment Neteyam felt that primal claim. Even when Neteyam’s own release died down he was forced to ride out his alpha’s release through the bond. It shook him to the depth of his core. 

Kxolo slumped forward against him, body shaking from the aftermath. 

Several long moments passed with only heavy breathing to fill the silence. It was borderline painful to still be seated inside of such a tight channel but Kxolo didn’t dare to allow a gap between their bodies. 

His stamina would ramp up again and once it did, he didn’t want the slightest chance of his omega teasing and running off again. Not that it would be possible in the first place. From the way Neteyam laid back against him completely limp, he figured it would be out of the question. 

“I hope you aren’t too wrecked yet, baby boy.” He mocked, lips flickering up into a grin.

“As if.” Neteyam’s confidence wavered in its execution as his voice still trembled.

“Glad to hear because I know one last birthday gift you can give me.”

That perked Neteyam up, their eyes meeting finally. 

“My omega all too myself.” 

Neteyam’s lips parted. 

“No more chores, no more late night tasks, baby boy.”

Neteyam giggled softly.

“I hope you don’t have any plans tonight or tomorrow because the only place I want to see you for the next day is in my bed.” Kxolo didn’t hold back the possessive growl lacing every word. 

Their tails wrapped together until they were intertwined. 

“Deal.” The omega whispered before connecting their lips in a soft kiss. 

“Happy Birthday, Ma Kxolo.”

“Happy indeed.” 

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