#but this is the first time he didn’t outright do it!

[actuallysaiyan]

The First Time(Aka How Nanami Kento Lost His Virginity) Chapter Two: A Little More Touch Me

Chapter Two: A Little More Touch Me

warnings: making out, mentions of death, trauma, heavy petting, premature ejaculation pairings: Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: you meet up with Kento once more and invite him to your dorm on the night that holiday break starts. after an intense game of Two Truths And A Lie, things get a little handsy. you eventually have to comfort him after he gets a little too excited. a/n: Chapter title is in reference to the song "A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me" by Fall Out Boy.

TAGLIST: @beneathstarryskies @benkeibear @kenpachisbrat @seireiteihellbutterfly @an-ever-angry-bi @namikyento @adharadotcom @heyitsd1yaa @darkstarlight82 @marikuchanxo @gennaray @markleeisdabestdrug

MDNI banners and Reblog for support banners by @\benkeibear <3

Masterlist

For a few weeks after the kiss, Nanami was avoiding you a little. He would say hi to you if you were to outright greet him, but he never really approached you. So you decided to give him a little room. You worried a little that maybe you had been too forward with him during that first hangout.

Your classes were going well. Slowly, you found yourself competing with Kento for the top spot in terms of grades. Your projects went well, and you even began to make friends. Things were going really smoothly. In a few more weeks, it was time for the first holiday leave of the semester. You were excited to go home.

Everything seemed to be going so well. You were thrilled at the prospect of having some time off to focus on spending time with your parents. Then the inevitable happened. They called to tell you they’d be staying somewhere else for the holiday.

So you were going to be stuck in your dorm for the holiday. You’d be alone. With your plans crushed, you decided to make the best of it. You’d be spending the majority of your time in the dorm, then maybe you’d try to go out and do a little shopping at some point. You wanted to make yourself feel a little better, even though you knew things would be bleak.

Everyone is getting ready to leave for the holiday, and you notice that only a handful of students are staying. One of them happens to be Nanami Kento. Your heart soars at the thought of spending even just a little time with him. Ever since that night, you haven’t been able to get him off your mind.

You approach him, a shy look on your face. Kento looks away, blushing a little. Then, when you’re face-to-face, he offers you a bashful smile.

“Staying here for the holiday?” you ask.

He nods, “Yeah. You?”

“I wasn’t planning on it, but my folks are headed out on vacation. So I can’t go home.”

Nanami finds himself feeling sad for you. He knows what it’s like to not have a place to go for the holidays. He hasn’t talked to his parents in a long time. Ever since he attended Jujutsu Tech, he had managed to keep them at a safe distance. They had understood, but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss them, and they didn’t miss him. Nanami just couldn’t find the courage to contact them after years of not talking to them.

“M-maybe we can keep each other company.”

Your heart skips a beat at his suggestion. You flash him the sweetest smile, nodding your head.

“I’d love that.”

Nanami scratches the back of his head nervously, “You busy right now?”

You shake your head, “Nope. Wanna come by my dorm? We can watch anime, get some take-out.”

Nanami smiles and he offers you his hand. For the first time in weeks, he was showing you that he still wanted to be around you. And you were enjoying every moment of being with him.

Once inside your dorm room, you and Kento decide to watch some anime together. Then you take the time to order a pizza, memorizing the toppings he enjoys. It’s like you two have been friends for ages instead of just a few weeks.

When the pizza gets there, you and Kento sit at the table. The topics of conversation seem to flow very easily between the two of you. But neither of you talk about the kissing. It’s something that seems to be a little taboo to mention right now.

Eventually, you suggest playing a little game to break the ice even more.

“Two truths and a lie. You tell three stories; two of them true and one of them a lie.”

Kento smirks. “Alright, I think I can enjoy this.”

You begin to think about what you’re going to tell him. This had been a game you had played in one of your clubs in high school. He seems to be thinking about it just as hard as you. Then you take another sip of your soda before you look at him.

“You first.” You offer, and he shakes his head.

“Not ready. You go first.”

You sigh but you smirk playfully. Then you scratch your chin, making a big show of considering it.

“Okay, so first, I used to work in a bank. It’s why I’m studying business and finance.”

Kento studies your features, “A bank, huh? Yeah okay…I could see it.”

“Secondly, my parents are high school sweethearts, and they had me very young. My mom was only nineteen when she gave birth to me.”

This makes Kento laugh: “High school sweethearts is the right term. Damn, nineteen?!”

You nod, “Yup! And lastly, I was in a commercial when I was a little baby.”

Kento considers all the things you’ve just said. He wants to almost believe you aren’t lying at all, but you don’t seem the type to lie about the game. He doesn’t know enough about you to truly figure out the lie, so he’s going to guess.

“I call bullshit on the last thing. There’s no way you were in a commercial.”

You laugh, “Nope! That’s not the lie. My parents weren’t high school sweethearts. They met in college.”

Kento’s eyes widened, “What commercial?!”

You go over to grab your laptop, and you pull up the video. It’s a commercial for baby food, and Kento finds himself so endeared by the way you were so cute then. Not to say you aren’t cute now, but it’s much different.

“You’re turn,” you say as you begin eating another piece of pizza. 

Kento considers it all very carefully. He knows that he has to keep his Jujutsu life under wraps, but maybe it couldn’t hurt for you to know a bit more about his past. He knows what he’s about to say might make you feel pity for him, and he doesn’t necessarily want to use it to his advantage, but he does want you to know more about him. Even the ugly parts need to be known.

“First, my star sign is Cancer. My birthday is July 3rd.”

You smile and say, “I can see it. You are moody and brooding.”

Kento frowns, “Hey! I’m not ‘moody’ nor am I ‘brooding’. I am just a loner…”

You reach over to squeeze his hand, “Sorry, please continue.”

Nanami looks over at you and sighs, “Blond isn’t my natural hair color. I dye it.”

“Oooh, rebellious. I like it.”

Then Nanami swallows hard. He had been considering this last one for a long time. He knows it could go sour. It could make him feel terrible to even speak about it. He looks at you and he feels his heart aching.

“My best friend died at seventeen.”

You nearly choke on your soda. Was this true? Surely that had to be the lie. You weren’t sure because you didn’t think his hair was dyed. So maybe his star sign was something else.

“W-what?” you manage to spit out.

Nanami looks down at his hands on his lap, “Which one is the lie? Isn’t that the game?”

You look away, your bottom lip trembling. This was starting to become serious. Because of the way he was acting and talking, you had to know that the third thing he said was the truth.

“D-did he really die? Your best friend?”

Nanami gasps at the way you just ignored the directives of the game. You looked inside of him, seeing his true emotions. You notice the quiver in his bottom lip. You watch as he wants to be completely swallowed up by the ground.

“H-he did. He died when he was seventeen.”

You don’t know what to say. How could someone go through something like that and continue on through life? You reach over and give his hand a careful squeeze.

“We can stop the game now,” you offer.

Kento nods shakily, “Probably for the best.”

After a few moments of silence, you get up to clean the kitchenette. Then you guide him over to the couch, wrapping him up in a blanket. Nanami feels the warmth coming from you. Something about these little actions is calming him down.

Then you both look at each other. There’s an electricity in the air, tinged with sadness. He reaches out for you, pulling you in closer. He holds you tightly, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

“You’ve been my first friend since then.” He finally says: “Well, my first close friend since Yu.”

You blink away tears. “I’m here for you, Kento. I promise.”

He shudders in your embrace. He’s not sure what’s coming over him. A myriad of emotions seem to be attacking him, making him feel weak for you. Then he looks at you with tear-filled eyes. You slowly close the gap, kissing his lips so softly. Kento pushes himself closer, cupping your face.

“I’m sorry for dropping that bomb on you,” he whispers.

You smile sweetly. “It’s okay, honey. You’re allowed to talk to me about that stuff if you want to.”

Then Kento resumes kissing you. It’s less sloppy than the last time. You can tell he was taking his cues from you. This time, he seems confident enough to take the lead. His tongue glides against your bottom lip, and you gladly part them.

He lets out a cute moan when your tongues touch. You don’t know if he’s using this type of emotion and release to try and forget about the pain, but you won’t judge him for it. You’ll allow him to do this if it means he’ll feel better afterwards.

His hands begin to wander; he’s caressing you so tenderly and tentatively. You allow your hands to rest on his chest, gently rubbing. You begin to feel the physique that seems to be underneath all that dark clothing.

“You taste so good,” he says timidly when you pull away.

“Yeah? Not just like pizza?”

He chuckles. “Better than pizza.”

This causes you to kiss him deeply. You guide one of his hands to your breast, making him gasp. It’s so cute to know that he’s a complete virgin. You know you want to show him how to navigate this rocky road. You want to show him how to properly have a good time sexually. Your first time had been with someone more experienced than yourself, and they had taught you all the right things.

Then you feel his other hand join the first one, and he’s kneading your breasts. You pull away from the kiss to rest your forehead against his. You can tell he’s learned some of this from porn, and you place your own hands on his.

“Gentler,” you whisper. “Softer.”

“S-sorry…”

“Don’t be. You’re learning. You can take your time, we’re not in a rush.”

Kento feels a renewed sense of confidence. He uses your words of wisdom and goes slower and more gently. You begin to feel aroused, and you pant and moan at the way he’s massaging your tits. He’s going to become a natural in no time if you keep guiding him like this.

Suddenly, he pushes you back against the couch. You look up at him, and a smirk spreads on his face. He leans in to kiss you, laying his weight on top of you. It’s all so needy and a little desperate, but not unwanted. Kento kisses you with a heated passion.

“Mmmm, fuck you smell good.”

Just his words alone could make you melt into a puddle of mush. You don’t remember the last time you enjoyed a make-out session quite like this one. Nanami finally gains enough courage to begin grinding against you, and immediately you feel his erection against your thigh. Your eyes nearly bulge out when you feel just how thick his cock is.

“I want you so badly,” he whispers. 

“I want you too,” you nip at his bottom lip. “Let’s keep taking it slow, honey.”

Kento grunts softly as he grinds against you again. You move in tandem with him, enjoying the way this feels. Your body is heating up from the friction, and you can see the way there’s a dusting of pink on Kento’s cheeks and the tops of his ears from how aroused he is.

He’s trying to ignore the pleasure building in the pit of his tummy, and he’s certainly trying his best to ignore the way his balls are drawing up so fast. Nothing could ruin this moment for him. He’s whimpering and moaning your name as you two continue kissing in a hungry way and moving your bodies in the most perfect way.

“I—I—hnng fuck this feels so good,”

You nod your head, moaning his name as you grind against him a little harder. Kento whines as his cock begins to throb, and he’s squeezing his eyes shut to hold off the inevitable. A few more thrusts from your hips and he’s a goner.

“Shit! W-wait, I—”

He cries out as he begins to cum. Shot after shot of his cum begins to fill the front of his boxers. His hips stutter and he’s got the sexiest ‘O’ face you’ve ever seen. His cheeks are still a little pink as he slowly comes down from the high.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!” He curses as he gets up.

You’re quick to get up and you gather him up in your arms. You press the softest kiss to his lips.

“Listen to me, Ken. I’m not mad.”

He’s relieved to hear your words, but he’s still so fucking mortified. He wants to leave. He can’t bring himself to look into your eyes right now. 

“I’m not mad. It can happen to anyone. If anything, I am so flattered.”

Kento scoffs, “Shut up. It’s embarrassing.”

You kiss him again, “Baby, it’s okay.”

You offer him something to get changed into, and he finally relents and agrees to it. You find some baggy sweatpants in your room and you hand them to him along with a washcloth. He scurries to the bathroom, cursing himself.

You sit on the couch, adjusting the pillows and blankets to make a cute little cuddle pile. Then you grab some water and wait for him to return. Kento eventually does return to you after cleaning himself up and changing. And of course, a lengthy pep talk in the mirror.

He sits next to you, leaving some space. You hand him the bottle of water. He takes a few sips and then places the bottle down on the coffee table. You slowly scooch over towards him, smiling sweetly. Then you take his hand in yours, and he doesn’t pull away.

“Stay the night? We can snuggle and watch anime.”

Kento laughs, “Alright, alright. I’ll stay.”

You rest your head on his shoulder. You have so many questions to ask him, but for right now, you just want to bask in this feeling. Kento rests his head on yours, thankful for the silence.

[hwaflms]

wicked games! ★ [ l.jn ]

{💭} jeno : let’s play a game. you like games, right?

[☆] pairing. perv!jeno x f!reader, mentions of bf!chenle x gf!reader

[☆] genre. smut | dubcon + cheating au

[☆] wc. 4.1k

[☆] warnings. explicit content (mdni), heavy dubcon elements (don’t like it, don’t read.), infidelity, jeno is a perv, manhandling, voyeurism, dacryphilia, forced kissing, harddom!jeno, fingering, pussy slapping, dirty talk, degradation, oral (m. receiving), throat fucking, use of words like ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, slapping, lots of spit, hair pulling, forced submission, implied sex, implied breeding, i think that’s it but pls lmk if i forgot smth!

[☆] notes. i don’t condone any of this, if you don’t like it, just don’t read it! a little darker than my usual work, but happy (late) jeno day!! not super proofread but this was meant to be a drabble and i got a little carried away…but i’m also thinking of a part 2? idk ‼️ anyways pls don’t interact with my work unless ur 18+ thank u!!!

from the second your closed fist meets the door, you know this was a mistake.

this is not to say that you thought it was a fantastic idea before, spending over an hour just tossing and turning in bed in utter turmoil over the thoughts in your head. turning over to your left, you were greeted with the sight of your boyfriend chenle, sleeping soundlessly with slightly parted lips, arm wrapped around an extra pillow tightly. he wears a plain, white shirt along with a pair of checkered boxers, an outfit he slipped on after getting out of the shower and into bed.

you don't know where it went sour. you don't know when watching a show and cuddling you to sleep became him sleeping right after his shower with an arm wrapped around a pillow. you don’t know when the last time he touched you was. and you don’t remember when you started noticing jeno.

and you’ve noticed the looks, too. he’s not particularly shy about it either, so it’s some kinda of a miracle that chenle hasn’t seen him yet. when chenle first introduced you to his friends, you immediately liked every one of them except jeno. you couldn’t explain it at all, he hadn’t done anything outright bad but something about him just didn’t sit right with you. maybe it was the lingering glances, the way he shamelessly checked you out, the cleverly hidden but distinctly predatory look in his eyes when he surveyed you, even in front of other people.

jeno was chenle’s roommate, which meant you were around him a lot. you didn’t mind at all, initially, even seeking him out at home to strike up a conversation, or offer him a bit of something you had just baked for chenle. it was when you started becoming aware of the looks, of how his hand lingered on the small of your back when passing you by in the kitchen, of how his eyes scanned your legs when you wore shorts. you think the final straw was when you accidentally walked in on him watching some pretty rough porn in his room, which you only entered to return a pair of socks that got mixed up with yours and chenle’s laundry. in your defense, the door was ajar while he knew you were home, but what really got to you was the fact that he never even paused the video or tried to hide the tent in his pants when you walked in, just nonchalantly thanking you for giving his socks back. you didn’t miss the way his eyes roamed the expanse of your body for a couple seconds before you left the room awkwardly, making sure to shut the door.

at first, you were uncomfortable. you debated telling chenle in your head numerous times, but your lack of concrete evidence made you think twice. was it fair to try and turn chenle against one of his best friend over a simple feeling you got? maybe not, you thought. but that feeling never went away. jeno made sure that it was persistent, made you feel like you needed to constantly look over your shoulder, until that uncomfortable feeling kind of morphed into a defeated one. you realised that at this stage, jeno wasn’t going to ever do anything. he had his chances too, so you figured that if he was ever planning to cross a line, he would have done it by now.

so you accepted that he was nothing more than a pervert and there was nothing you could do about it. that was up until a week or two ago, before you found yourself looking at jeno in a different light for the first time. it was no secret that your relationship with chenle was souring, diminishing before your eyes yet neither of you ever brought it up. instead you both sank into your miserable routine of tolerating each other, choosing to coexist peacefully instead of talking it out like you would have initially.

maybe you started hating chenle. maybe it was the empty space between your bodies, or how cold your hands felt nowadays that filled your heart with such bitterness, or maybe it was the fact that your body was throbbing, just aching and begging to be touched, that made you think all these thoughts that would have never crossed your mind before. like the animosity you felt towards chenle. and the curiosity you felt about jeno.

forcing yourself to tear your eyes away from chenle’s sleeping figure, you find yourself in front of jeno’s door, hand raised and closed in a fist like you had just knocked. your heart is pounding throughout your body, in disbelief over what you were doing. it takes him maybe ten seconds to open the door but it feels like an eternity, an undeniable feeling of dread pooling in your stomach over a situation you put yourself in. his eyebrow is raised when he opens it, one hand on his door handle and the other resting against its frame, towering over you in a way that already makes you feel small.

“can i help you?”

can he? you don’t answer, mouth opening in an attempt to speak but no sound leaves it. he inclines his head as if to urge you to say something, a bored expression on his face. jeno is attractive. you can’t even deny that. he wears a black tank top that stretches over his wide chest, a pair of loose sweatpants paired with it. the muscles of the arm holding on to the doorframe bulge, a gulp going down your throat as you look at it and look away.

he releases an annoyed sigh to snap you out of your thoughts, hand coming down to grip your forearm, all but yanking you into his room. you don’t even have time to react, already shoved near his bed when he turns around, arms crossed as he stands in front of the door in a way that could block your exit. you should have known he wasn’t going to pass up a moment with you alone.

but still, you try and explain the situation away. “t-the wi-fi password…”, you explain with a nervous chuckle, feigning indifference as you remain near his bed, a good amount of distance between your bodies. “i need the um, wi-fi password.”

you don’t even have your phone. the realisation hits the both of you at the same time, your mouth falling open a little while he looks incredulous, a disbelieving smirk on his lips. “the wi-fi password. you didn’t already have it?”, he counters, taking a step towards you. “from all the times you been in this house?”

you take a step back along with him, a blush coating your cheeks at how stupid he’s making you feel. “there must be something wrong with my p-phone”, you hate the way you stutter, wincing as you poorly argued back.

“you couldn’t ask chenle?”

“he’s asleep…”. it’s weak, but you have to try.

he finds this amusing apparently, because he repeats your statement after you, and your body freezes when she shuts his door. “he’s asleep…”

all you can offer him is a quick nod, but he sees right through you.

“you didn’t even bring your phone, doll”, he snickers, mockery just dripping from his tone and leaves you feeling vulnerable. “come on, cut the shit, what did you really want?”

at the present moment, you want nothing more than to leave, but your body is unmoving. “i…”, you start but you almost run out of breath when he takes a couple more firm steps in your direction. “what?”, he’s mocking you, and you feel that in order to be a comfortable distance away from him, you need to be sitting on his bed– a decision you immediately regret.

he’s in front of you in an instance, but makes no move to touch you. you’re face-to-face with his crotch from your position on the bed, and you have to look away to the side, heart pumping in your ears. “we both know why you’re really here, y/n.”

it’s a statement, but he looks like he’s expecting an answer, one that you can’t give him. you do look up at him though, and the look that crosses over his face makes your blood run cold. it’s all too intense for you, and you look back down, but what you see makes you blanch, not knowing which direction to look now. how is he so hard?

it should disgust you, the sight of his hand reaching down to grip his thick cock right in front of your face, but it doesn’t. your heart is still pounding as fast as ever, but your eyes flick back to his when he practically moans your name, leaning away from him a little. “at least pretend you’re not enjoying this”, he practically spits and it’s so demeaning, him looking at you like you’re the dirty one. you start to shake your head and he mockingly mimics you, scoffing when your eyes turn pleading.

much to your surprise, he takes a step, albeit small, away from you, arms folding across his chest again. your first instinct is to get up and just make a run for it, but your body is in no mood to comply. maybe it’s the fear, but a part of you think it’s from that funny feeling in your stomach, one that used to make you recoil but appears to not work now. you also don’t fully believe that he’ll just let you walk out now. it seems like he recognises this, speaking up when your eyes dart from the door to his body.

“stand up.”

your eyes glance between his like they’re searching for something behind the crazed look. your body follows that demand however, nervously picking yourself up from your safe spot on the bed. he motions with his finger for you to come closer, but when you hesitate, his hand closes around your neck faster than you can react. you’re now directly in front of his face, close enough to see every mole, every eyelash. when he reaches his arms out to you, you’re quick to move away but he’s even quicker, grabbing ahold of your waist tightly anyway, holding you in place.

noticing the tears pricking your eyes, jeno lips curve into a fake pout, leaning down to kiss at the corners of your eyes. “i bet you look so pretty when you cry.”

of course this is what was always going to happen, of course. but you knew that. why else did you come here? the countless number of nights you lay awake next to chenle, just wishing he would touch you like he used to instead of falling asleep silently. that unnerving feeling jeno always used to give you, like he was just waiting patiently for his chance to strike. this was an ugly situation that you had gotten yourself into knowingly, and jeno looked like he was getting bored of giving you chances.

with the knowledge that he was finally alone with you away from prying eyes, he smashes his lips on to yours, not stopping even when you cry out weakly against his lips, caging you in with his body as you try and fail to push him away.

you do this because it hits you that you are actively cheating on your boyfriend, even though you didn’t exactly initiate it. with the situation looking as compromising as it does, your mind gets cloudy as you try to think of how you could appear completely faultless. jeno is relentless still, using every gasp and whimper as an opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, knowing he’s won when he finally feels your arms relax a little against his chest.

when he pinches the skin of your ass tightly between his fingers as a kind of warning, you kiss him back somewhat reluctantly, but no one asks you to slip your tongue over his. he groans into your mouth when he feels your fingers digging into the bare skin of his arm, the hand that wasn’t holding you in place coming up to roughly grope one of your breasts. this makes you cry out feebly into the kiss, arching a little into his touch against your will when he slips the hand under your (technically, chenle’s) shirt to continue his ministrations.

the thought of chenle makes your eyes snap open immediately, freeing yourself of the heated kiss now that your head wasn’t being held in place. this is wrong. it’s like you have now come to your senses, but the look of determination in jeno’s eyes tells you that you’ve come to that realisation much too late. “jeno, we- i can’t, chenle-”

it’s clear that he doesn’t appreciate you breaking the kiss, pinching your nipple harshly before removing his hand from under your shirt to instead grip your jaw tightly. “oh, now you wanna think about chenle?”, he seethes, forcing your face in front of his, tongue darting out of his mouth to lick at your bottom lip. “when you came in here this late at night, practically begging me to fuck you?”

he’s sick, he’s twisted, you think, because you were certainly not begging him to fuck you, but you can’t deny that you came here searching for some kind of trouble. and now you got it.

this feels like it’s some kind of dream, though nightmare would be more fitting, one of those paralysing dreams where it takes immense effort to control your body.

you shake your head ‘no’ and jeno tuts in faux sympathy, an action that you hate to admit causes some heat to pool in your stomach. “let’s play a game. you like games, right?”

you’re sure you don’t want to play whatever game he has in mind, but you understand that he’s specking rhetorically, your opinion on the matter has no place in this world. “if i put my hand in your panties, and they’re in perfect condition, you can leave and forget this even happened”, he quips like you’re ever going to be able to forget this, smiling at you with no light in his eyes. “but…”

you were expecting the ‘but’ yet it still gives you chills, standing frozen in place when he runs his hand up and down your front lightly.

“if i find that someone’s ruined her panties for me…”, he trails off, stopping his hand at the waistband of your shorts, smirking when he feels your body tense. the heat of your body is basically radiating off you, and you know there’s no stopping him now when he looks up at you with a knowing smile. “i think i know what i’m gonna find.”

the next thing you know, you’re crying out against his chest, his arms holding your slackening body up as his fingers slip in and out of you easily. you knew you had lost this battle from the moment you knocked on his door, and jeno basks in his victory when he feels you clench around his fingers, licking and biting his away around your neck. “no marks, jeno, please”, you plead with him, eyes widening in fear at the thought of chenle seeing the evidence of your pathetic behaviour. “shut up and take what i’m giving you”, is the clear answer you receive along with a sharp slap to your exposed ass, your pants and underwear long gone as jeno works his fingers in you.

he bunches your shirt up above your breasts, releasing a whistle when he sees that you aren’t wearing a bra. “you were just waiting for me, weren’t you, you fucking whore”, jeno growls, and you think he’s truly deluded himself into believing everything he says, and it’s starting to seep on to you. your body jolts when he slaps your bare cunt three times in a row, like he’s punishing you for making him do this. “coming here with no bra on, just so fucking tight and ready to take me.”

he’s talking to himself at this point, because none of the sounds coming out of your mouth are coherent. jeno’s hand is forceful and quick, lips attached to your nipple and drilling two fingers into you at an angle that has you dropping your head into the crook of his neck to muffle the sinful noises you’re releasing. he sucks harshly at your nipple, letting his teeth graze against the sensitive tip, and you’re in tears, the sensation proving to be too much.

he’s pulling his fingers out of you and forcing you to your knees in a flash, but you’re just happy to be relieved of the torture administered to you by his hands and mouth, that made you cry out into his shoulder out of pain and pleasure. your joy is short lived however, when your eyes shoot open at the sensation of something warm and hard tapping against your cheek. and there it is, jeno’s impossibly hard cock mere centimetres away from your lips. “just made for sucking cock”, he notes, slapping his leaking dick against your teary face in a degrading manner.

he’s smoothing a hand down your head of hair, the action so heavily contradictory to his otherwise rough manhandling. “you’re gonna take me so well, aren’t you, baby?”. you think this scares you even more, because you have no idea what to expect, but he proves to be himself when he grips a handful of hair in each hand, using them like handlebars. when you let out a surprised yelp at the acute ache that results from him pulling on your hair with force, he enters your mouth fully, pulling back out when you gag. his eyes marvel at the string of saliva connecting the tip of his dick to your lips, rubbing the tears that slip from your eyes around your face with his leaking cock. “my dirty fucking cockslut, i knew you’d be like this.”

you’ve never felt dirtier, yet you can’t explain why you’re wet enough to feel the cold breeze that enters from jeno’s open window against your pussy, making you clench around nothing. gagging around his shaft for the third time because of how deep he sinks his cock down your throat, you bring a hand up to wrap around his base so as to try and control the pace of his motions. “there we go”, he hisses at the feeling of your hand wrapped around him and allows you to pump him a couple times, slipping only the tip of his dick in and out past your lips.

you keep up this pace, swirling your tongue around the tip and jerking off what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. though he lets you take charge for a short amount of time, he grows bored of your pace, opting to thrust his cock into your mouth, chuckling at your wide eyes. “i’m gonna fuck your mouth, and you’re gonna take it”, he chides, slapping your cheek once making you whine around his dick, tears mixing in with the spit and cum coating your face. “so, tell me baby, chenle doesn’t fuck you good enough?”

if he’s actually expecting an answer, you can’t give him one, mouth so full of cock that your jaw hurts, trying your best to breathe through your nose. feigning boredom, he slips out of your mouth with a sound of annoyance for a moment, and sighs in disbelief when you unknowingly chase after if with you mouth, leaning down to grip your cheeks and squeeze them together.

“i used to listen to you getting fucked by him at night. but i haven’t heard you moan in ages, pretty”, your cheeks are squished together and you feel stupid, jeno’s gaze piercing. “always knew i could make better use of you. isn’t that right?”

you sniffle, attempting to clear your throat and blink, vision blurred by tears. he thinks he’s funny when he uses his grip on your jaw to move your head up and down like you’re nodding, but your body feels so fucked out that your head keeps going when he lets go, a shocked kind of laugh escaping his lips. “fuck…you really are a slut. do you ever think about anything that isn’t cock?”

more tears leak from your watery eyes when his degrading words do nothing but send shivers straight to your core, mouth falling open when he presses his tip against your puffy lips again. he moans uncharacteristically at the feeling and sight of his cock in your mouth, fucking into your mouth and treating it like your pussy. your throat grows tired of swallowing around it but he looks drunk off the sensation, so you lay your tongue flat against the underside of his hard cock and let him rut against it.

he’s absolutely brutal and relentless with his tempo, but nothing shocks you nor makes your pussy throb as much than when he leans down and squishes your cheeks together again, letting spit dribble from his mouth and fall where his cock and your mouth meet. everything about the action is filthy, but you’re wetter than you’ve ever been before, hollowing your cheeks as his thrusts become more erratic.

you know jeno’s close when he starts muttering profanities under his breath, the hands gripping your hair controlling your movements and forcing your head to bob up and down on his cock. “dirty little bitch”, he starts off breathlessly, seeing the drool running off your chin bringing him so close to the edge. “sucking my cock while nothing but a wall separates your boyfriend from us.”

your knees hurt and his words sting, but he pulls out, quickly wrapping his hand around his cock and jerking it off right over your face. your mouth is still open and you’re sure you look insanely vulgar but it only encourages jeno, tapping his cock against your tongue repeatedly. “tell me”, he demands, spitting into his hand so he can spread the substance around your lips as you try and evade it. “tell me how much you love my cock.”

you’re repeating after him like a broken record, and broken you are, so fucked out and cock drunk that you need him to do your talking for you. “love your cock- need you-”, you’re babbling but he accepts it, groaning when he works his hand around himself while hovering over your mouth, finally thrusting it back between your lips. the way you readily go back to sucking him off makes his cock twitch, and within seconds, he’s spilling his seed down your throat.

as his dick softens, he slips it out of your mouth and for the umpteenth time, forces your lips open with his hand. he spits into your mouth, but you aren’t even surprised anymore, accepting it with hooded eyes. “swallow”, he orders you and you comply, sticking your tongue out to show him how well you’ve done. “that’s a good whore.”

you were maybe even about to reply when you both hear the unmistakeable sound of a toilet flushing, and your heart sinks– chenle is awake. you’re quick to attempt to scramble to your feet, but your legs have fallen asleep from being in that position for so long that they almost give out, not that it matters anyway; jeno has no intentions of letting you stand up. his hand is back in your hair again, making you hiss out of pain and doing a good job of holding you down, but you turn to look at him desperately, trying in vain to shake your head free. “please jeno- chenle can’t see, please-”

you’re a blubbering mess but jeno doesn’t care, simply wiping your tears from your face and cooing softly and before you know it, that unsettling feeling returns, your ears thudding with the sound of your heart. “chenle’s gonna see, baby”, he agrees in a sympathetic tone, thought nothing about him is soft or caring. “chenle’s gonna see his girlfriend getting stuffed full of his best friend’s cum, and he’s gonna see her enjoying it.”

[foxyanon]

Convincingly Human: Part 1

Summary: Sihtric moves to Coocham and meets an interesting woman with a secret. Takes place between Season 2 and Season 3.

Pairing: Sihtric Kjartansson x Dragon Shifter!reader

Rating: 18+, MDNI

TW: creature death by fire

Word Count: 2208

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from The Last Kingdom nor do I own any of the images used.

Dividers by @arcielee and @zaldritzosrose

He had moved to Coocham with Uhtred and the rest of the men, finally settling down after all the events following Beamfleot. Even though his lord had denied his request to marry so he may start a family, after everything that happened, he was just a bit relieved. He wouldn’t admit it, but it wasn’t until after the battle when he realized he wasn’t quite ready for that chapter of his life. At least, that is what he thought until he met her many moons after he settled into his own home.

The first time he had seen her, he was completely taken back by her beauty. Stunning would be an understatement of a word to describe her, a sentiment shared by many of the men in Coocham. She only ever visited the market once a week, purchasing supplies before leaving Coocham once more to wherever she went. Sihtric was enamored immediately, not letting the teasing and jests of his friends stop him from attempting to pursue her. He learned she didn’t live in town from the baker’s wife, apparently choosing to remain separated from society but for what reason no one could say. The day he finally gathered up the courage to approach her was one he’ll remember fondly, the way she spoke to him with genuine kindness and the way she said his name after introducing herself had his palms sweating from the nerves. It wasn’t until she practically floated away at the end of their brief interaction that he realized there was far more to her than meets the eye.

After that day, he started watching her far more closely, noting the way she carried herself with a confidence even Uhtred could not match and moved unnaturally gracefully. Her skin was flawless, not such much as even a freckle on her face. Her teeth were pearly white and straight, something he had never seen before. There were no scars or calluses on her hands, no dirty nails or even dirt on her. She was easily the cleanest woman he had ever seen, no dirt or dust on her clothes and not a hair out of place from her simple styles. In truth, she was perfect. Too perfect.

He tried bringing it up to Finan and Osferth a week later, but they brushed him off and said he shouldn’t look too far into it, both of them more concerned with enjoying the relative peace they were afforded for the time. He didn’t wish to bother Uhtred with his concerns, since he was busy with his own duties and his family. No one else was willing to hear his words on the matter and instead, he figured that he was the only one who noticed that there was something off about this woman.

It took a few months of observing and getting nowhere, so he finally decided to ask her to join him for a drink at the ale house. Perhaps if she had a little alcohol in her system, she would slip up and Sihtric would see beyond the illusion that surrounded her. Was it the proper thing to do? No, but he was too scared to ask her outright in the event he offended her and something in her demeanor warned him not to do that. When she agreed to join him that evening, he won’t deny the sheer joy he felt at the possibility of spending more than just a few moments in her presence made him forget the whole reason he asked in the first place.

The evening passed by smoothly, ale flowing and conversation moving at just the right pace, but she didn’t show any signs of being affected at all. Sihtric was dumbfounded, she had matched him mug for mug and didn’t so much as even slur a single word. The ale house was warm from all the bodies occupying the hall, and even though he was starting to sweat from heat, she seemed completely unphased by it. Gods, her face wasn’t even flushed, but no one else noticed since they were too deep in their cups or focused on their lovers.

At one point, the ale house was so loud he leaned closer to her he could say something to her only for the most potent and intoxicating scent radiating off her skin to overwhelm his senses. It was rich and smoky, slightly sweet and altogether not entirely unpleasant. He groaned softly before catching himself, his eyes locking with hers as she gave him a knowing grin. Sihtric flushed with embarrassment, clearing his throat and downing the rest of his drink and forgetting what he was doing, once again. Every time he spoke, she gave him her undivided attention and when the torch light flickered against her eyes, he swore they appeared almost serpentine and glowed with an inner fire, but when he blinked they were normal once more. He thought maybe his ale addled mind was playing tricks on him, but something in the way she smiled at him told him otherwise.

That night, after having said goodbye and parting ways, Sihtric didn’t sleep a wink as he mulled over every interaction with her. He thought himself to exhaustion, thinking how she remained a mystery even after an entire evening spent with her. She looked and acted human, but only on the surface. He couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it, refusing to believe she was something more on just blind faith. Maybe Finan and Osferth were right, he shouldn’t look too far into it, lest he find an answer he isn’t ready for. His last thought before succumbing to sleep was that he should just accept this was something he was not meant to know.

Rumors from traveling merchants had the whole of Coocham abuzz, stories of some beasts lurking within the woods and preying on the unsuspecting along the roads setting Sihtric on edge. He wasn’t completely oblivious to the rumors that unnatural creatures lurked within the forests at night, but his fear was less for himself and more for his pretty lady. He knew she lived out there alone and even if she was more than a little strange, he worried for her safety against those monsters. When he saw her next, he pulled her off to the side, wanting her to stay in town with him for the time but she refused.

”Please, my lady. It is not safe for you to be alone out there, the stories from travelers worsen everyday. Is there nothing I can say to convince you to stay in town?” He all but pleaded with her, staring into her enchanting eyes and hoping she would see reason.

“I promise you Sihtric, I will be fine. There is nothing out there that will harm me, trust me. Your concern for me is touching and I do appreciate it, but it is wholly unnecessary,” was her response before she glided off once more, leaving him at a loss for words.

He ran his hand down his face after she had left, thinking of how he could ensure her safety before deciding to do something impulsive. If she wouldn’t stay with him, then maybe he could keep an eye on her out there. Which is exactly what he would do, loading his horse with supplies for a day or two after informing Uhtred he was going to look into the rumors of these beasts. It wasn’t a complete lie, but he knew his lord wouldn’t just let him leave if he said he wanted to check in on a random woman. Finan gave him a knowing look, but he knew better than to try and stop the Dane when he had that determined look in his eye.

So, here he was, riding out towards where he guessed his mysterious lady lived as the sun began its descent in the early afternoon. It was foolish and reckless, but he was a warrior and had no fear facing that which goes bump in the night. He set up camp in a clearing after having wandered for some time, the sky varying shades of purple and blue as the sun sank low on the horizon, having not had luck finding where she might live. Normally, the sounds of the night didn’t bother him but this night was different. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched and he was consciously aware that he was alone out here, the moonlight casting its pale glow on the wildflowers that grew among the grass. He fell into an uneasy sleep in his bedroll, the fire dying down and the chill of the night slowly creeping into his furs.

A low growl woke him from his fitful sleep, his eyes snapping open as he saw the unmistakable yellow eyes of a werewolf staring back at him. The large beast was on all fours, saliva dripping from its open mouth and teeth gleaming in the moonlight. The two stared at each other, Sihtric cursing himself internally for not having packed a silver blade in his haste to leave Coocham as he wrapped his hand around the hilt of his sword, preparing for a fight he may not win. He knew the only way to land even a blow would come from the element of surprise and well timed dodging, as there was no way he would move faster or be stronger than werewolf. For a beat, they merely looked at each other before the wolf launched himself at Sihtric, the latter dodging at the last moment and bringing his blade down to slash at the torso. He managed to slice a shallow cut, only serving to anger the creature much to his chagrin. The feral and now pissed werewolf backhanded Sihtric in the stomach, effectively throwing him several feet away from the small camp and knocking the wind out of him as his sword was flung from his grasp.

Just as Sihtric’s vision cleared slightly, the beast was on him, pinning him down with its large paws and snarling in his face. His hands came up to push against the creature's chest, pouring every ounce of his strength into fighting it off. Before the wolf could make the final kill, a loud roar filled the air before the ground shook and a massive dragon landed harshly not far from the fighting pair. The wolf seemed to be distracted by the newest arrival, giving Sihtric the opportunity to wiggle out from under it as the dragon slowly advanced on them, a deep rumble escaping its maw. He stared at the mythical creature, feeling light headed from both the fight and the realization that such a being existed. Sure he had heard stories, but they were supposed to be just that, stories.

The two supernatural entities growled and snarled at each other, the werewolf clearly not wanting to fight but angered its meal was interrupted. Sihtric tried to slowly make his way to his blade, giving the creatures a wide berth while keeping his eyes on them. He was breathing heavy and moving slow, the adrenaline beginning to wear off and the pain of his injuries making themselves known. No sooner than he had his sword in hand did the dragon roar lowly once more, a warning for the wolf to leave or else. Seeming to consider its options, its yellowed gaze switching between Sihtric and the scaled beast before deciding to try its luck at getting Sihtric. A foolish choice, and its last.

Before the werewolf made a bound in his direction, scorching hot fire poured from the mouth of the dragon and engulfed the werewolf. The smell of burning flush and the sound of crying wolf overwhelmed Sihtric’s already sensitive senses, and his vision blurred at the edges as he turned away and proceeded to hurl the contents of his stomach onto the barely lit ground. He used his sword as a makeshift cane as he dropped to his knees, the familiar feeling of the hilt grounding him in his rapidly shifting reality. He turned his head and looked at the dragon, who was already watching him closely. He may have imagined it, but he could swear the damned thing looked concerned for him. He had no fight left in him, a look of acceptance for his inevitable death crossing his face as he hoped the dragon would make it quick.

Naturally, this night would only get weirder for him as the beast walked a bit closer before its scales started to twist and fold in on itself, shrinking in size until the unmistakable look of human legs and arms appeared as it shifted into its mortal form. The wings wrapped around the now human, scales disappearing beneath skin as it walked closer, the face of the dragon morphing into a face Sihtric knew all too well. Horns slowly shrank into her skull and as leathery wings forced their way back into her skin between her shoulder blades. Sihtric’s vision blurred once more as the blood rushed to his head, the last thing he saw before fainting entirely being the face of the woman he had been out here for, her bare arms catching him before his head hit the ground.

Tagging: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @gemini-mama @mrsarnasdelicious @synintheraven

@zaldritzosrose @alexagirlie @legitalicat @thenameswinter99 @fallingintoyourlilaceyes

[igbylicious]

so um. @wooyoungisbaby Isak made inquiries abt whichever way Woosan & orgasm denial, how often it happens, whether Wooyoung ever gets to deny San, and oh boy my brain started buzzing lol! it was too long to answer in the replies, so this is ummm, technically a hard thoughts post i guess? very self-indulgent, very stream-of-consciousness

sex-related Woosan musings ahead, with an obvious warning for orgasm denial, but also mentions of dacryphilia & overstim (and somehow it’s abt 700~ words?! brain why?!?!?)

so yes, in pt1 Wooyoung was on a sex ban and didn’t get to cum until he and San were back from their trip lol.

in my head, San does this kind of thing on occasion, but not too often; he doesn’t overdo it bc that will genuinely upset Woo at some point lol. (also bc it means San doesn’t get to fuck Wooyoung either, and San doesn’t want to go too long without fucking Woo :C in like, a sickeningly tender way :C that man yearns for it :C )

also a ban for an entire week like in pt1 is very rare! the opportunity just presented itself bc they’d be with San’s family for the first few days; San had mixed feelings abt getting it on at his parents house, and Wooyoung got snarky abt it so San was like ‘ok i guess you are getting NOTHING for this WHOLE trip then ¯\_(ツ)_/¯’

(ps: now that reader is also in the mix, there are some fun new levels of potential torture to the concept of putting Woo on a sex ban ✪ ω ✪ )

~

for edging / denying Woo during actual sex; yeah that happens a lot lol — but multiple orgasm overstim is almost just as likely! San loves to change it up; but any given time they have sex, there’s decent odds that either one or the other will happen to Wooyoung… or both if he has the energy >:3

either way, both are real solid methods for San to almost guaranty he’ll have Woo crying before it’s over and what can i say? that man likes his Wooyoung a ruined, teary mess lol

~

as for whether Woo denies San…

well. in pt6 Wooyoung did know that San would let himself get edged all day long ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

for this version of Woosan, that’s actually a rare kink with which they might fully flip the script and have Wooyoung domming San. (they do have sex without rigid d/s roles, but it’s rare for this San to get deeply subby. tragically ( ╥ω╥ ) it will kinda sorta happen in the fic one more time tho uwu)

and usually it happens when San is real stressed or overworked or otherwise having a Bad Time™

(or if Woo is really really really in the mood for it, but in that case he will have to be on his best behaviour first lol)

they’ll really take their time for it and turn it into a ﾟ☆*Moment*☆ﾟ and it’s lowkey kinda soft; Woo will tease San plenty, obv! Woo likes his San just as teary and whiny as San likes his Wooyoung lol

but Woo is also acutely aware that he is in the caretaker role for once, and that the goal is for San to feel good and relaxed afterwards ♡ so much bodyworship, soooooooo much praise and cuddling in the aftercare <- and the praise goes both ways, bc San is so proud and grateful to Woo for taking care of him like that ;;

(and ofc when Woo’s subbing, he will ABSOLUTELY pull an edge on San if he can; just to multitask at being a menace AND give his boyfriend a lil treat hehe)

~

…but to come full circle, i’m not convinced that an attempt to put a sex ban on San would work out so great for Wooyoung asdkjadsjk

honestly i’m on the fence whether San’d immediately shut it down bc being the target of punishment is not his thing — but i could see Woo trying it just to be a brat, OR Woo pulls a stunt like ‘you sex ban me? good luck i sex ban you right back’ lol

which derails into an outright battle of endurance bc these two guys are not just incredibly horny but also stubborn asdkjasdjk. honestly they can’t even hold out for that long bc of aforementioned horny-ness and bc they are whipped for each other, but dear god both of them are so fucking stupidly desperate by the time they cave in and shamelessly hump each other again lol oop — and it does cumulate into a round of the shortest but also the MOST high-strung sex they’ve ever had ✪ ω ✪

(bless you Isak for being an enabler, i hope you got smth out of this ♡)

[melrosing]

anyway in an absolutely wild turn of events I think I’m free of my hideous job and like. substantially richer for it??? lmao 2023 you really owed me

[ambrosiagoldfish]

I've never sent a request before, but I'm fiending for more adam, like anything, anything at all

Benefit of the doubt

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Viewer discretion is advised

Warnings: Angst(?), Not exactly fluff at the end but it gets better, typical Adam TW’s, reader low-key high-key has a complex about being loved, this is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader. (Also Y/n isn’t used, which also surprised me, the author, LMAO)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Request Box: Open

Word count: 1760

A/N: Hi! Thanks for the request! I haven’t had a chance to write something that was originally my own idea in a while, so this was very refreshing! I’ve had this idea since I’ve watched the show so I hope you enjoy it!

I’m entirely up for making a small series from this oneshot, but I would need to know y’all’s opinion on it! (So don’t feel scared to let me know if you want some more of this idea in my Request box/the replies on this post!!)

Also Adam may be slightly OOC but please just chalk it up to him not yet getting his ego’s dick sucked 24/7

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy, let me know if you do!

Proofread but of course could have left mistakes!

You’ve existed for almost all of human existence, Almost.

You were the 4th being to be created during the time of Eden. But unlike the other 3, you weren’t human. In fact, you technically never lived before. An honestly hopeless existence, yet it was so beautiful in every way. But for what purpose? Well…

You were created shortly after Eve ate the apple, before she and eventually Adam committed the first act of sin that caused evil to latch onto humanity like a leech.

The reason for your existence was simple. To be Adam’s new spouse, except for when after he died. From the very moment Eve bit the fruit of temptation, it was already decided she would hold no place in heaven. Adam was given mercy due to him not possessing any knowledge of the fruit Eve had shared with him, he trusted her wholeheartedly. Which is exactly why heaven gave him mercy… no, pity would be a better choice of words.

Upon your creation you learned immediately of the happenings before your existence. About Lilith and Eve, and about Lucifer

And so, after Adam and Eve were casted away from the Garden, they continued to live their lives, fostering the existence of mankind for the rest of time. And when they eventually died, Adam was given pity while Eve was thrown to the wayside, the vast unknown.

You thought it was finally your time to experience existence with the one you loved, the one you were made for. Of course you never would know life as he did but surely your life never-after life could be just as meaningful as his.

How excited you were, how completely enamored by the thought of it. But there was a problem with that, Adam had grown into a new person, he was meant to of course, he was human. But he had grown selfish, abhorrent… insecure.

You understood why, to be betrayed by not one but two of his wives for the same person. You couldn’t possibly imagine what he could be feeling. Before you were to meet your future husband, Sera informed you that he had asked for a mask, and once on, he has refused to take it off.

That didn’t bother you, it’s irrelevant to your love for him. You've only heard descriptions of his features. Short Brown hair, gold eyes, bushy eyebrows, some scruff on his chin. All in all, he sounded perfectly fine, ordinary even. But even then it’s his choice to wear the mask, so you’ll respect it.

Finally, the time he arrived in heaven, and when Sera finally introduced you, his new spouse, the one to whom would be by his side for the rest of forever.

He rejected you outright.

“What?” Your breath hitched as you stuttered over the word, the sharp inhale of your lungs through your mouth flicked through the air.

Sera looked just as shocked as you but she quickly regained her composure “What is the meaning of this Adam?”

“If you think I’m going to let my life get fucked over by another one of your “gifts” well, you’ve got another thing coming!” He crossed his arms and shook his head defyingly. “I’ve already learned my lesson with those last 2 bitches.”

“Adam I’m sorry that happened to you but I would never-“ almost like lightning his finger shot to your mouth, shushing you.

“Save it, Sweetcheeks, I really don’t care what you have to say, so just stay there and look pretty, k?” His hand fell and grabbed the sides of your face, squishing your cheeks together, his LED mask flashing a sharp smile.

You saddeningly looked down at the clouds below you.

“Adam!” Sera’s voice sounded through the air, still soft but firm, she continued, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Divine judgment allowed you to be the first human soul in heaven, so I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I expect you to give your new spouse that same grace.”

Slowly your eyes looked up at Sera with a soft smile. Adam only groaned “Ugh, Fine but don’t be fuxking annoying, capiche?” You nod your head quickly.

“Very good, glad we have it settled.” Sera gives a quick smile, “now, I have some business to take care of so I’ll leave you two alone to get to know one another” With that, Sera flew away leaving the both of you alone.

The silence was thick in the air, the only sound being the occasional wind breeze blowing past. The sunlight creeps in through the clouds painting an orange sky above you both. In every sense of the word, it was perfect.

It was almost funny. You had waited so long to finally meet him, your true love, the one you were made for. All the things you dreamed about, the laughs you’d have together, the warm embrace of the person who you loved. But now… you didn’t know what to say…

“I’m… happy to finally meet you.” Your voice is quiet, almost non-audible. “I’ve been waiting for you since… well, forever…”

He doesn’t respond. He seems to be transfixed on something below you both. You train your eyes on whatever he’s watching only to see the dark cavernous abyss below you. Finally he breaks his silence.

“The fuck is that?” He asked pointing down, a sound of genuine intrigue hidden behind his abrasive voice

“That’s hell?” You stated confused “where would-be sinners will go to be punished, didnt you k-“ you suddenly realized that perhaps Adam really didn’t know what hell was. It was only created relatively recently, after Eve and Him ate the apple, of course he wouldn’t know. “it’s also where Lucifer-“

“Don’t fucking say his name.” Adam spoke, his voice rough in his speech. LED mask putting a harsh frown on his face. “Let’s get one thing straight M”Kay babe, if you’re my “new spouse” that’s something you should remember.” The “new spouse” was said with a tone clearly meant to mock you.

“Sorry…”

“Ugh, It’s fine, just don’t do it again.” He groaned before a wicked smile crept onto his mask “Sooo, that means he’s going to be stuck with all the wasteful beings of existence, HA fuxkin’ hilarious. Guess that makes them the losers and us the Winners!”

His laugh filled the air, the sound was like music to your ears, sure maybe it wasn’t really what you’d hoped he’d fine funny, but you loved it all the same but eventually his laugh died down

Silence again… in admits of all of it you suddenly was sparked with a thought “oh!” Adam looked confused at the random exclamation. “I had almost forgotten… I brought you something, as a welcome gift or was it a nice to meet you gift? Both? Eh, it doesn’t matter but the point is-“ you suddenly snap your fingers.

Golden light began shining, the light seemed like liquid hot magma as it moved and molded slowly into a shape. Light seemed to be overlapping and churning into itself, forming your desired outcome. With one final snap of your fingers, the gleaming gold liquid took hold, and quickly hardened to a solid.

The object that had formed quickly fell down, landing in your arms with a light thud.

“I’m still learning this creation stuff, so I’m sorry if it’s not perfect but-“ you hold out the object in your arms as an invitation to grab it “I learned from Sera that you liked to play guitar when you were alive, so I thought you might like to have one here…”

Adam looked at the instrument in your hands. The base color was gold, the neck was pearly white with gold strings. To be honest it looked more like a harp then anything, like if a guitar and a harp had a baby.

Silence again. Did he not like it? Did he hate it? You go to pull it back to you and apologize when suddenly it’s ripped out from your hands.

“Holyshit, this is sick as Fuck!” Adam immediately started playing some rifts on the new guitar. The sound wasn’t what you were expecting but you guess Sera was right about his talent with the instrument. The whole time his mask had a wide and sharp smile as he mimicked guitar sounds with his voice, the occasional laugh leaving his mouth.

“I’m really glad you like it” you say, a sigh of relief leaving your body.

Adam looked at you, one you missed. He saw how relieved you were, how nice you were being. No person who supposedly loved him ever gifted him something, well, one other did. Someone he trusted and loved more than everyone, anyone. But look how that ended, with them being removed from the garden, away from an eternity of happiness until he died. All from someone giving him what he thought was nothing but love, a gift.

But he could see that this was different, you were different. When Eve gave him the apple, she didn’t explain what it was or why she wanted him to eat it, even when he asked her she didn’t explain. But with you, you had not only given him something you knew he liked but also expressed the reason behind it. Yes, you were different, even Adam could see it.

“Anyways, thanks for the axe, I guess…” Adam for the first time was stunned, but quickly he continued “What was the thing that Sera chick said about me and “divine judgment” or whatever the fuck? That she gave me the “benefit of the doubt…”

You were a bit confused but continued listening, “I guess I should at least try to give you a chance, since you got me this sick ass guitar an’ shit.” Your face lit up, you about began to speak before you were, once again, shushed “B-B-But-” his finger tapped your lips with each repeated syllable ”-only a chance. If you betray me like those last 2 bitches then you’re done, got it?”

To say you were overjoyed would be an understatement, a smile quickly plastered across your face as you quickly nodded your head

“Alright good, so uh, what do ya say about showing me the best places to get a bite to eat around here, I could really go for some ribs right about now.”

“ I’d… love to, thank you Adam”

“Yeah don’t mention it Sweetcheeks” Adam quickly wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you two began walking.

Maybe you will get your eternity of happiness.you can only pray you do.

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

Someone asked me to expand a little on a topic that was buried down in a big chain of reblogs, so I'm doing that here--it's about the use of the archaic "thee", "thou", "thy", etc. in LOTR and what it tells you about characters’ feelings for one another. (I am NOT an expert on this, so it's just what I've picked up over time!)

Like many (most?) modern English speakers, I grew up thinking of those old forms of 2nd person address as being extra formal. I think that's because my main exposure to them was in the Bible ("thou shall not...") and why wouldn't god, speaking as the ultimate authority, be using the most formal, official voice? But it turns out that for a huge chunk of the history of the English language, "thee," "thou," and "thy" were actually the informal/casual alternatives to the formal "you", “your”, “yours”. Like tú v. usted in Spanish!

With that in mind, Tolkien was very intentional about when he peppered in a "thee" or a "thou" in his dialogue. It only happens a handful of times. Most of those are when a jerk is trying to make clear that someone else is beneath them by treating them informally. Denethor "thou"s Gandalf when he’s pissed at him. The Witch King calls Éowyn "thee" to cut her down verbally before he cuts her down physically. And the Mouth of Sauron calls Aragorn and Gandalf "thou" as a way to show them that he has the upper hand. (Big oops by all 3 of these guys!)

The other times are the opposite--it's when someone starts to use the informal/casual form as a way to show their feeling of affection for someone else. Galadriel goes with the formal "you" all through the company's days in Lórien, but by the time they leave she has really taken them to heart. So when she sends them a message via Gandalf early in the Two Towers, she uses "thee" and "thou" in her words to Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli because now they're valued friends and allies. And--this is the big one, folks, that was already alluded to in my previous post--Éowyn starts aggressively "thou"ing Aragorn when she is begging him to take her along as he prepares to ride out of Dunharrow. She is very intentionally trying to communicate her feelings to him in her choice of pronoun--an "I wouldn't be calling you "thee" if I didn't love you" kind of thing. And he is just as intentionally using "you" in every single one of his responses in order to gently establish a boundary with her without having to state outright that he doesn't reciprocate her feelings. It's not until much later when her engagement to Faramir is announced that Aragorn finally busts out "I have wished thee joy ever since I first saw thee". Because now it is safe to acknowledge a relationship of closeness and familiarity with her without the risk that it will be misinterpreted. He absolutely wants to have that close, familiar relationship, but he saved it for when he knew she could accept it on his terms without getting hurt.

So, you know, like all things language-based...Tolkien made very purposeful decisions in his word choices down to a bonkers level of detail. I didn’t know about this pronoun thing until I was a whole ass adult, but that’s the joy of dealing with Tolkien. I still discover new things like this almost every time I re-read.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Irresistible {3} || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: What was once heaven turns to hell with the unexpected arrival of a new house guest. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, cheating, kind of taboo (future stepbrother) WC: 4K F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four

It was late by the time Charles entered your room and slipped into the bed. You had retreated to your room after washing the dishes from dinner, silently passing each one to Charles to dry. When there was nothing left to tidy, he sighed and decided he couldn’t delay the call that was inevitable.

“Are you awake?” he asked quietly as he curled his body around yours.

“No.”

You felt his smile on your shoulder before he rolled you over to face him and brushed the hair back that fell over your face. “I think I made a mistake.”

It felt like a cruel joke but you had heard his raised voice through the walls, but the French had meant nothing to you. You were certain that after one argument he was cutting things off but you asked anyway, “Why’s that?”

“Because I don’t want to be in a relationship with her.” He pressed his forehead to yours and the breath you had been holding was released with a relieved sigh. “And she wants to come to the first races too now.”

You pulled back to see the pained look in his eyes and realised you had relaxed prematurely. “I thought you said she wouldn’t go to many.”

“She usually wouldn’t, but with the new race schedule it falls right into her school summer break.”

You huffed at the idea of having to share him and watch as she got to publicly flaunt him. Okay, maybe you were a little jealous - but it didn’t change anything because he could never be yours. “Does she suspect anything between us?”

“I am living with a beautiful woman that I am not related to, of course she is suspicious,” he stated with a nonchalant shrug. “But she won’t outright ask or she would have to give up on the idea that we are perfect for each other.”

Your fingers traced the shape of his beard that was due to be shaved again and your shoulders bounced with a quiet laugh. “Look at you, you have it all figured out.”

For a second his amusement faded away and vulnerability set in as he looked at your laced fingers resting on his chest. “You haven’t changed your mind about coming with me, have you?” His words were whispered like he was afraid of the answer.

“I don’t think I could if I wanted to,” you admitted seriously, before a teasing smirk lightened the atmosphere. “I think I would miss you too much, or a certain part of you.”

“Ah, of course,” he chuckled, grateful for the answer and a distraction, “you only want me for my dick.”

You ran your hand down his bare chest until it met the fabric of the grey sweatpants he wore and teased over his crotch. “I was thinking about your tongue but I would miss this too.”

“I feel used, really, I do,” he huffed but his cock began to stir beneath your palm despite the joking words. “I am just an object to you.”

“Yes, you are, but you are a pretty one,” you added with the sultry smile that always set his blood alight. “So are you going to let me use you?”

He grinned as he easily pulled you over his body to straddle his waist. “Always, ma biche.”

Lockdown: Week Sixteen

“Hey Daveed, sorry about the stairs,” you apologised as you ordered yet another heavy item online knowing there wasn’t an elevator in the building.

It was an odd world that you found yourself in. You knew the delivery driver by name now, but you still hadn’t seen the bottom half of his face beneath the mask.

“What have you brought now?” Charles asked from the couch as he sent a wave to Daveed.

“I’ll show you if you help me move it.”

Curious, he got up and gently moved you aside so he could pick it up himself, his biceps testing the tensile strength of his shirt sleeves. “Where am I putting it?”

You rushed around the couch and moved the coffee table that was covered with your puzzle magazines before pointing to the space made. “I’ll get the scissors.”

Charles watched his floor space change from hardwood boards to the fluffiest shag pile rug he had ever seen. Everywhere he looked there was evidence of a woman in his home and he had to admit he loved walking into each room and seeing it.

You starfished on the rug after unrolling it and sighed happily at how soft and fluffy it was beneath you. “Lay with me,” you ordered Charles when you opened your eyes to find you smiling down at you.

Dropping down beside you, he stared up at the ceiling and stretched out, sliding his arm under your head. He ran his fingers through the soft material before those same fingers ran down your sleeve and pulled you closer to kiss your temple. “It’s perfect.”

The doorbell buzzed and you both looked at each other wondering who it could be. There wasn’t anything else that had been ordered and it wasn’t as if anyone could just pop around for a visit with the lockdown still under enforcement. You were still frowning at each other when the bell rang again, followed by a shrill call that made Charles stiffen.

“It’s Charlotte.”

You sat up in an instant and all but ran down the hall to your room, quickly snatching Charles’ pillow and tossing it into his room with the other random pieces of clothes that littered your floor. The security chain scraped open before the deadlock was unbolted and you scanned his room to see if there was anything of yours there but luckily most activity had been kept to your space. You hadn’t wanted to sleep in the bed he shared with her, that was about your limit in your morally grey code of ethics.

“Uh, hey, what are you doing here?” Charles asked as he opened the door, his shoulders blocking your view from the hall.

“I thought you would be happier to see me after four months,” Charlotte murmured as she walked around him and into the apartment. She was perceptive of all the changes and was obviously not impressed by them as she set her suitcase down. “My travel exemption came through today.”

Charles frowned at the large luggage bag but recovered enough to kiss her when she leant in. Your exemption had been emailed to him a few days ago so everything was set to go to Austria in two weeks time but that didn’t help him understand why his girlfriend had arrived at his place with the bag. “Are you going somewhere?”

“I figured since I was allowed to travel I would stay here, with you, until we fly out. I can finish my assignment here and we can catch up on lost time.”

Your stomach knotted at the thought but she had put Charles in a position that made an argument almost impossible.

“I would love that, but isn't it a little insensitive to Y/N? I don’t want her feeling like a third wheel in her own home.”

“This isn’t her home.” Charlotte rolled her eyes and you took a step back behind the wall as she looked around for you. “You said she’s just a guest you can’t get rid of because your mum asked nicely.”

You swallowed down the angry words that clawed at your throat and had to watch as Charles wrapped her in his arms, to comfort her.

Your silent steps retreated back to your room and you closed the door before you could hear anything more. Collapsing on your bed feeling displaced, you could smell Charles’ cologne clinging to the sheets and resorted to stripping the bedding off. Not willing to risk being caught in any small talk, you mounded the pile of sheets and duvet covers in the corner of your room and pulled a pair of noise cancelling headphones over your ears.

You drifted in and out of sleep all afternoon, waking once to decline dinner, telling Charles that you weren’t hungry through the locked door, despite the loud growls coming from your stomach. When you woke again night had set in and it was dark outside your window. The growls had turned to cramps and you couldn’t ignore the need for food any longer.

Thankfully the apartment was silent when you emerged from your room and crept down the hall. You could walk the whole house blindfolded if you needed, you knew because it had been a game you played with Charles a few times out of boredom, but you turned a small lamp on in the living room. The soft glow was enough to see in the kitchen and you found a note on the fridge door.

You smiled at the thought of Charles saving a plate for you and grabbed it from inside the fridge. It smelt delicious as you warmed it up in the microwave but one mouthful had to dumping it in the bin. Though your back was to the hall you could feel his presence like the kiss of the sun on your skin and you placed the empty plate in the sink to wash it.

“You should be asleep.”

His steps were quiet across the floor before his hands found your waist and his lips brushed over your nape before he whispered, “Can’t sleep without you.”

You turned away from the sink to face him but whatever command you were thinking of to send him back to his girlfriend was lost when he kissed you. You could taste the apology on his tongue, feel the regret in his touch as his hand slipped beneath your shirt and danced along your spine.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was going to show up here.”

His forehead rested against yours and his eyes closed when he felt your hands come to rest on his neck, your fingers feeling his pulse race beneath them. The silence was heavy as he waited for you to say something but you weren’t going to dwell on what you couldn’t change.

“You should be apologising for the pasta, I nearly broke a tooth.”

Charles stepped back with a quiet laugh and combed his fingers through his hair. “You know I am not good at cooking.”

“That wasn’t cooking, it was uncooked,” you corrected him with a smile. “Are you hungry?”

He nodded, having missed your cooking and took a seat on the bench where he could watch you quickly bring a delicious meal together. He never understood how you could do that, how you could look at what was in the fridge and the pantry and create a dish in your head. When he looked all he saw were the individual ingredients but you saw the potential each piece had, it amazed him every time.

The minutes quickly passed and it was effortless to chat with whispered voices while you worked, a complete dichotomy from how his evening with Charlotte went. Conversation with her had felt forced, like he was talking to a stranger, and he had asked how the weather was twice just to fill the awkward silence.

He barely even heard your words, recounting a humorous camping trip with your father where he forgot nearly all of the food. But you had managed to survive for three days inventing new ways to eat sausages. You paused when Charles didn’t laugh at something he should have found funny but he was staring at your lips in a daze.

“Are you okay?” you asked with a wave in front of his face.

He snapped out of whatever trance he was in and you thought maybe he had been falling asleep standing up. You nearly jumped when he suddenly pulled you into his arms and buried his face in your neck. “I love you.” You could feel his smile on your skin before he kissed the column of your neck, whispering it over and over as he made his way to your lips. “I love you.”

Your palms met his chest and gently pushed him back as you wriggled from his hold.

“What?” he asked, suddenly nervous and self conscious.

“You’re just having this revelation now? At,” you checked the time on the oven, “1:11 in the morning while your girlfriend is asleep in your bed.”

“I mean, I’ve kind of known it since the day we met…” He scratched the back of his neck and shrugged apologetically. “I think I loved you the moment you called me a bad driver.”

You balled up your fist and punched him in the shoulder. “You could have told me sooner.”

His forehead crumpled in confusion as he rubbed his arm. “What? Why?”

Stepping back into his personal space, you rose on your toes so you could kiss the corner of his downturned lips. “Because I love you too.”

His smile could have lit up the whole city and it made the unexpected arrival of Charlotte a little easier to bear. It was almost romantic eating dinner with a single candle burning on the table, if it wasn’t for the knowledge that there was an unwanted house guest in the next room. You probably should have eaten in silence to make sure it went undisturbed, there was always more you wanted to know about each other. Sixteen weeks together brought a lot of insight into the other’s psyche but there was still over 20 years of history to learn.

“Did Peter teach you to cook?”

Your laugh was a little too loud in the dead of the night and you shook your head. “He can only cook a steak, and you don’t get a say in how you want it either - it’s always extra well done.” You took a sip of the wine Charles had poured and giggled at the thought of your father teaching you to cook. “There was this old woman who did the payroll at dad’s work and after mum left Betty helped step in for all the ‘girly’ stuff. Make-up, cooking, boys.”

The corner of Charles’ lips kicked up in a smirk as he sat back in his chair and sighed happily with a full stomach and contentment he had missed all evening. “I imagine you were already a natural when it came to boys.”

You mirrored his amusement and leaned your head on his shoulder when he draped his arm over the back of your chair. “Of course, one insult and I had them wrapped around my finger,” you joked.

“Worked with me.”

“But you’re weird.”

Footsteps padded down the hall and you sat up before Charlotte arrived wearing a shirt of Charles’. She froze as she found the cosy scene and the sleepy haze lifted from her face. “What is this?”

You smiled and reached for the bottle of wine to refill your glass. “I was hungry, sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. Would you like to join us?”

She looked at the clock and you were surprised to see it was almost 3am. Time always seemed to slip by unnoticed when you were with Charles, he was captivating that way.

“No, thank you,” she politely declined as she held a hand out to Charles. “We are going back to bed.”

Charles let her lead him from the room but he looked over his shoulder with a pout and mouthed ‘I love you’ before saying aloud, “sweet dreams.”

You smiled as you mouthed the words back and promised, “I will.”

That was the last stolen moment alone. Charlotte seemed to sleep lighter and followed Charles everywhere he went in the apartment. He couldn’t even stream alone in his office, her ever present shadow was there in the background to gate keep him from you. At night, their arguments would keep you awake and your French understanding grew to know nearly every swear word they used. 

You could see the misery in the dark bags beneath Charles' eyes each morning at breakfast. Though he no longer sat beside you, there was one perk to facing him with the table Charlotte used as a barrier between you. Warmth ran up your leg and you fought not to react to Charles’ touch, it wasn’t much but it was his quiet reassurance that everything would be okay.

Lockdown: Week Seventeen

You woke to a screech and rolled over to bury your head under your pillow. Unfortunately you weren’t able to block out her voice as it grew louder to the point she was yelling. Tossing your blankets back, you draped a robe around your shoulders and swept out of the room with a mission to find out why your sleep had been disturbed.

“Charles, can you please remind her what an inside voice is?” you asked quietly as you took a seat with him at his piano, watching the angry young woman pace around the living room.

“You live like a pig!” Charlotte growled as she picked up his dirty plate left on the coffee table. “And how hard is it to put the toilet seat down?”

You cast a side eye at Charles to see him struggling to hold a smirk in check. He was clearly enjoying himself but you were confused since he had always put the toilet seat down before, and cleaned up after himself.

“Why are there so many cushions in this place?” Her rant continued as she picked up the floral pieces you had scattered across the couch to bring colour to the room.

“I like cushions,” you answered her rhetorical question, drawing her attention to your presence.

“I know exactly what you like,” she sneered as her eyes darted to Charles before she stormed out of the room, dropping the plate in the kitchen sink as she passed.

“Where are you going?” Charles asked as he made to follow, sending a kiss your way.

“Home!”

You dropped onto the couch, enjoying the way your body sunk into the soft cushions, and listened to the rant continue while Charlotte packed her suitcase. You had to bite one pillow when Charles made a weak attempt to change her mind but then she was wheeling her luggage out the door.

Unfortunately her departing words left you little hope as she promised, “I’ll meet you at the airport.”

The door closed behind her and Charles leaned his back against it with a sigh. You cocked a brow at him before he slid the deadbolt home and all but jumped over the back of the couch, pinning you under his body.

“Finally, I have you all to myself,” he hummed happily against your lips but you tugged his hair back so he could see the confusion on your face. “What? I missed you.”

“You planned all that?”

He shrugged and dipped his head to capture your lips that left you needing more of his kisses and less of his clothes. “I was hoping she was going to break up with me, but I’ll keep working on that. PR can’t be mad at me if it’s her choice.”

You combed your fingers through his hair, feeling the soft strands that were in need of a trim again. “But what happens next? They’ll just set you up with another woman that fits their image for you.”

He shook his head adamantly and pressed his forehead to yours. “I’m done with that. I’ll tell them I need to focus on my career or something to get them off my back. There’s only one woman I want, Bambi.”

You tried not to let his promise affect you but the butterflies in your stomach turned to a burn across your cheeks and you buried your face in his neck. His deep laugh reverberated from his chest as he kissed your temple and started to climb off you.

“Hey, where do you think you are going?” you asked as his weight was lifted from you.

“I was going to bed,” he said with a smirk as he started to walk towards the hall. “Coming, ma biche?”

The cushions went flying as you scrambled to your feet and raced after him. It felt as if the universe had righted itself when you closed your door behind you and found Charles stretched across your bed. For a moment you just leaned back and enjoyed the view that you had missed, but only for a moment - you had better ideas on how to spend your time. 

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you pointed out.

“Why don’t you come and change that?” he challenged with a smirk. Making himself comfortable, he tucked his hands behind his head but the movement tugged the bottom of his shirt up to tease you with the deep V lines you wanted to run your tongue along.

“With pleasure.” You untied your robe and let the material fall to the floor before you stalked him down and reached for his sweatpants. You dragged the soft cloth down and he lifted his hips to make it easier, not that it would have stopped you.

You dipped your head down, grazing your teeth over his hip bone and goosebumps prickled across his skin. His breath caught in his chest as the tingling feeling spread over his body and he chuckled at the sight of it. It was a reaction he had never had with anyone else, there was no one else who could possibly elicit such a feeling with just one touch. 

“Fuck,” he shuddered breathlessly when you lashed your tongue along one V line. He could feel your breath warm on his cock before it cooled as you climbed higher and he groaned at the smirk on your lips. You were playing with him. 

“Be patient,” you warned as you grabbed his shirt and tugged it up his chest. 

“It’s been 9 days, Bambi,” he gasped when you nipped his nipple before easing the sharp pain with your tongue.

“Exactly.” You peeked up his body from under your lashes and enjoyed the strained look on his face, his brows pinched together and his hands in fists behind his head. He was struggling not to take control and bury himself in you. “I have to make up for lost time.”

You pushed him to his limit as you nipped and sucked your way across his body from his neck to his thighs. “Please, ma biche,” he finally whined as his hard cock pulsed with the need to feel your wet warmth. 

“Since you asked so nicely…” You sealed your lips around the swollen tip and hummed in delight at the taste of him. There wasn’t a word that could describe it but it was an aphrodisiac of the highest strength. Need grew to a throb between your legs and your eyes fluttered shut as you clenched your thighs together. 

A deep groan had your eyes opening and you found a wild look in Charles’ before he reached for your arms. You let him guide you up his body thinking he was going to spear you down on his cock but he shuffled down the bed and positioned you over his face. “My turn, mon amour.” 

Your fingers clutched at the headboard as his tongue expertly found all the spots that made you see stars. Like you, he hadn’t forgotten how to drive you wild in the long days since Charlotte’s arrival. 

“Please, Charles,” you begged as he teased around your clit, keeping you dancing on the precipice of oblivion. He teased and he teased until a growl of frustration tore from you lips and you combed your fingers into his hair so you could grind your hips over his face, taking what you needed from him. 

Satisfied and smiling, you were flipped onto your back and Charles chuckled as he kissed his way up your body. “That was rude.”

“You love it,” you fired back with an equally daring smirk that fell away when your lips parted with a soft gasp as he thrust his hips forward and buried himself inside you.

“Fuck, I do,” he agreed with a moan. His breath heated your neck as he kissed your racing pulse, caressing your skin with his lips until he reached yours. “I love you.”

Click here for the next part.

[slvt4felix]

I Could Never Hate You

Pairing -> ninth member!reader x Lee Minho WC -> ~3,300 words Includes -> hurt/comfort, angst, enemies to lovers, hyunjin's a meanie, reader has anxiety, minho struggles with his feelings, cringy nickname use, yelling, swearing Summary -> The rest of the group members are over the silly rivalry between you and Minho. They decide to take matters into their own hands. However, their little game takes a turn for the worse when one of the members betrays your trust. Some may call it destiny…the way it leads you straight into the arms of the one you would never expect. Author's Note -> This is my first time posting on here, so hopefully this isn't too rough. Also, I swear I don’t hate Hyunjin. I love him to death. It was just necessary for the plot… anywaysss hope you enjoy!!

Masterlist ♡ Next Part

“I swear to God if you guys don’t open this door right now!” You yell as you pound on the hotel room down the hall from yours. There hasn’t been a reply, but you know that Hyunjin and Felix are in there. The two of them are always locked in their hotel rooms the night before your shows. They try to get as much sleep as possible for the next day.

‘They are definitely laughing their asses off right now,’ you think to yourself. It was just a stupid prank to them. Something to get you and Minho to finally get along again, but they just don’t get it. You had tried for so long to make it work, but Minho was just too stubborn. For heaven’s sake, you guys used to be the best of friends. One day he just started being cruel. Ignoring your texts, saying snarky things under his breath, scoffing every time you accidentally messed a move up. It escalated to the point where you no longer talk anymore. Truly, it is not your fault and they don’t seem to get it. He refuses to say anything about what happened, completely disregarding the fact that you were ever close enough to share your deepest secrets.

You turn around to leave, realizing the two boys were probably never going to open the door. You hear the lock click and spin back to see the annoyingly beautiful face of Felix. Although he wasn’t outright laughing at you, he was putting little effort in trying to hide his smile.

“Hey, what are you so upset for? I didn’t notice anything wrong on the bus earlier?” Felix asks. You just stare back dumbfounded.

“Why the fuck would you ever put me in a room with him?” you spit pushing past Felix into his room, “Don’t you dare look at me like that, you know how he treats me.”

Hyunjin just looks at you from his spot on a queen bed closest to the window. He looks shocked, as if he hadn’t expected you to actually put up a fight against the sleeping arrangements.

"How is that our fault?" Hyunjin questions. He seems like he may be genuinely asking, but you know him better than that. You have always been closer to him than the other members, especially after all the things that went down with Minho. Hyunjin was always the one to comfort you. The first to step up when your anxiety got to be too much. So, it was obvious that the members did have something to do with it, and it wasn't just an unfortunate fluke.

"I saw the way you guys all ran to claim your rooms while I was still collecting my suitcase. Don't act stupid. I know you know what's going on," you say back in hopes to get him to at least explain what their plan was. Maybe you could reason with them and get one of the boys to switch. Heck, you'd even be willing to sleep on the couch in Hyunjin and Felix's room, but it's starting to seem like they don't even want you in their room in the first place.

You hear Felix close the door behind you, but it's all blocked out as you watch Hyunjin roll his eyes at you. While this may seem like a typical Hyunjin action, it just didn't feel right. He tries to be more gentle with you than the other boys. After confiding many of your secrets and insecurities in him, he knows to control his face around you. Yet, it's beginning to look like he's forgotten all about that tonight.

"Yeah, I'm the stupid one..." he mumbles under his breath. With every sentence exchanged, the tension in the room grows thicker. You almost feel bad putting the other poor boy in the room through this. You can practically feel him stiffen with every word spoken.

"Hyunjin-" Felix starts but is cut off by a sharp look from the man himself. You know it's starting to go too far if Felix is getting upset, but Hyunjin doesn't seem to care.

"Why are you so angry right now?" you ask him, praying the question doesn't fire him up more. Maybe he's just having a really bad day, or maybe he just wants to be alone and can't deal with your problems.

"I'm not angry," he starts, "you're just making a big deal out of absolutely nothing." By the end of it he begins to raise his voice, another thing he knows you aren't a fan of. You take a step back, a little confused at his ignorance. He's been with you through all the fights, why doesn't he understand how big of a deal this is to you?

As you're still trying to make sense of his previous statement, his voice quiets down, and he looks back down at his phone as he whispers, "Just like you always do."

"What is that even supposed to mean?" you ask, scared for the response. He glances up sharply, making true eye contact for the first time tonight.

"You're always crying over stupid shit, and I really can't handle it anymore,” he states angrily, his eyes not leaving yours the entire time. He finally breaks eye contact, and the tension explodes, painting the whole room red.

As dramatic as it sounds, it's like a knife to your heart, or perhaps more accurately a stab in the back. You know exactly what he means by that. It's like he was aiming for your most sensitive spots. With your anxiety, you tend to panic over things that don't usually matter much in other people's minds. Every time you have an anxiety attack or are just freaking out about something, you usually try to hide it. You worry that your friends won't take you seriously or will make fun of you over something they consider 'not a big deal'. You've confided in Hyunjin over this topic before. He's helping you get over that and come to them when you need help. So why is he now turning on you? Was it all an act before?

You feel your eyes start to tear up, but you hold them back. He cannot see you cry.

"Fuck you," you say, attempting to put venom behind it, but all that comes out is your shaky voice.

"Y/n, wait," Felix says sympathetically as you go to leave the room. Normally, you would stop and let Felix comfort you, but suddenly everything is feeling just a little too heavy and you can't seem to look him in the eye any longer. You stride out of the room, keeping your shoulders straight without even glancing back. You just need to stay strong until you make it into the hallway. You slam the door behind you despite typically being the one to argue when the other members to it. Your eyes are blurring too fast at this point to even recognize the fact that you probably should've shut it a bit quieter. It is a hotel and noise complaints are a thing, but, honestly, that is the least of your worries at the moment. You just keep replaying back the fight in your head trying to figure out what you did wrong. It had to be something, right?

You start down the hallway, cursing when you realize your room is at the other end of the hall. You hope the other boys can't hear your sobs, especially the two you just departed from. As much as you want to be comforted, it feels like you're past the point of no return and just want to be alone. You try to stifle your cries a bit with your hand, but it doesn't do much. You're heads getting a little too light, you're breathing getting harder to control. Your hands are shaking, and it seems like the crying is just starting. Some may call you sensitive, but when the tears start you simply begin to spiral. There's very little that can calm you down at that point. Hyunjin usually has to take you somewhere and help you take deep breaths especially before your concerts. But he's the one who started this mess. So, what are you supposed to do now?

You finally make it to your hotel room, barely being able to read the numbers, and you start to dig around in your pockets. You start to panic as you struggle to find your key card, but eventually you grasp the small rectangular piece of plastic and open the door.

Once inside, you shut the door, a bit calmer this time, and fall back against it. The only thing on your mind being the fact that you are finally in your own room, alone. You put your hands over your face, trying to quiet some of your senses. In the haste to get out of the situation, you completely failed to remember the problem that had started it all.

Minho is sitting in one of the beds; he had plenty of time to choose considering you just dropped your suitcase off and stormed off upon realizing the two of you would be rooming together. He's all cozy in his sweat pants and t-shirt, obviously thankful for your abrupt disappearance. He looks up, shocked to see you re-entering the room. He plans to make a jab of some sort, but immediately pauses upon seeing your state. It seems like you haven't even noticed that he's in there yet. He's never really seen you like this before, or at least not since he started pushing you away. Putting that aside, he accepts defeat realizing that you need someone. You need him.

Your eyes are covered as you cry quietly into your hands, pushing your head back into the wood behind you. You flinch slightly upon feeling strong arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you away from the hard door. However, you soon relax into the arms, enjoying the feeling of safety flood your system. The man is warm and gentle as he presses you against him, pushing your head into the crook of his neck.

"Follow my breathing," he whispers in your ear, sending goosebumps from your head to your toes. You try to listen to him, but all of your senses are so overwhelmed that you can't seem to focus on anything. Feeling like a fool, you begin to cry harder, immediately sending you back to the fight with Hyunjin.

"Honey," he starts, "you just have to take a deep breath. I don't want you to pass out on me." Hearing the quiet voice in your ear helps bring your mind back to the present. Trying to focus on the instructions, you begin to notice the chest rising and falling slowly against yours. You can even feel the man's calm heart beat against your racing one.

Following the normally simple order, you try to take a deeper inhale resulting in a few hiccups and more tears. One of the arms around your shoulder falls and his hand begins to rub your back gently. As you focus on the sensation, your breathing starts to even out, just as Minho had hoped.

Once you are in a slightly better state, he moves you over to the bed. Setting you down on the edge, he kneels in front of you and softly pulls your hands away from your face. You instinctively bow your head, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to keep from facing the man in front of you.

Minho reaches his hand out, bringing your face back up towards his. You slowly open your eyes at the gentle touch. He's looking right back at you, a soft expression covering his face. He hasn't looked at you like that in years. He practically lights up when your eyes meet his.

A smile grows on his face, as he quietly says, "There you go, kitten." Your face flushes at the nickname, and you hear Minho giggle softly at your blushing cheeks. He used to call you that all the time. A fan had once greeted the two of you at a fan meet saying how you both had the same energy as cats. So from that day on, he had called you that nickname constantly, earning well-deserved teasing from the other boys. Yet, it had all stopped out of nowhere.

'He doesn't care about you anymore,' you remind yourself. You pull away from him roughly and stand up from the bed. You take a few steps away from him, the comfort you had felt being ripped away in seconds. This was too confusing. He can't ignore you for years and suddenly act normal. That isn't how this works.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" you ask him, just wanting some sort of explanation. He slowly stands up, his soft look from before transforming into a look of pure regret.

"What are you talking about? You're upset and I care about you," he calmly explains, obviously ignoring the elephant in the room. But you can see it in his eyes; the nerves, the regret, and the sadness painting itself across his irises.

"You hate me,” you say, leaving no room for discussion. You were sick of being left in the dark and being turned on. You just want to know, what happened?

"You don't really believe that do you?" he asks as his body language changes. He reaches a hand up, pulling a little too roughly against his hair as he looks down at the ground.

"I mean-" you start to say but are cut off by a small sniffle coming from across you.

The culprit looks up at you again, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Minho never cries. It's just one of those things. So he wipes them away and says the last words you would ever imagine him speaking to you.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers genuinely, "I never meant to make you feel that way, but I guess that's what it's come to, hasn't it?"

You stand stiffly, staring at him. You had never seen the man look so defeated. You are even more confused about where the two of you stand than you have ever been.

"But I don't get it, you're just so mean. I don't know how you couldn't hate me."

"I could never hate you,” he states staring at you. His eyes are so deep that you can see exactly what he's feeling, and you realize, this is it. He's an open book. This may be the one time you get to see under the surface of Lee Minho since those days of friendship all those years ago.

"Then why did you push me away?" you ask, taking advantage of his state.

"I was just so scared. I thought you would hate me if you found out..." he trails off. You simply wait for him to finish his sentence, but he never does. He just looks back at you in hopes that you understand what he's trying to say. A silence builds, and Minho takes a deep breath before continuing.

"I love you and I was just too scared in case it would ruin the group," he says, finally letting the truth escape after years of secrets. The shock of the statement leaves you speechless, simply staring at your old best friend.

After a few seconds of building tension, you can’t help but start to giggle, leading to near hysterics with more tears springing to your eyes. You had thought you had cried all of them out, but it looks like you were wrong. There's no way that's the reason. If only he had been honest with his feelings, then you would've never been in this situation in the first place.

He looks surprised at your laughing, and his whole body seems to deflate.

'Hopefully he doesn't think I'm laughing at him', you think. There's no way they had messed up communication that bad to let it get to this point.

"You should have said that, Minho. I was so in love with you," you state gently, trying not to bewilder the poor man. He looks up, and there's pure excitement on his face. It's beautiful to see compared to his earlier expressions, and you're reminded of all those little reasons you love him. All those reasons that have been buried down due to his obliviousness.

"Really?" he says, taking a step closer to you. Your cheeks heat up upon realizing that you really did just reveal one of your darkest secrets.

He takes another step closer, his face now only inches from yours. You feel his arms wrap sweetly around your waist. You glance down at his lips; they're slightly chapped, but honestly, it's just all part of what makes Minho, Minho. Your eyes go back up to meet his, and you can see the tension and nerves drawn upon his face. You quickly close the distance, making the decision you should have made all those years ago.

Minho doesn't pull away, instead immediately melting into the kiss, bringing one hand up to delicately cup your cheek. This may be one of the softest moments you have ever witnessed from Minho, and man do you want more.

You don't kiss for long, it's short and sweet, but it means so much more. Within it is everything you had wished you could've said to each other since the beginning.

You both pull back, a laugh leaving both of your mouths as you take in how outrageous the situation is. He pulls you close again, his head falling on your shoulder.

"I promise, I will never ever treat you like that again. You mean so much to me," he whispers. You bring a hand up to pet the back of his hair, pulling back just enough to give him a kiss on the cheek.

The two of you eventually pull away as your eyelids begin to droop. You realize how late it has gotten, neither of you noticing with all the drama that has unfolded. You quickly change into your pajamas and get ready to go to sleep.

You end up in the same bed with your head lying on his chest, his fingers running through your hair. Despite how sleepy you both feel, you know there is so much more to talk about and neither of you will be able to fall asleep.

Minho breaks the silence, asking you the dreaded question, "So, what happened? Did someone hurt you?"

"Hyunjin and I fought. He said some very hurtful things." I reply sadly, the memories of the fight resurfacing.

"You two are so close, I'm sure he didn't mean it. You know how upset he gets when we’re on tour for so long. He gets aggravated having to be around us all the time, but it was still messed up for him to be so mean to you."

You laugh at his response, "Yeah, like you can talk."

"Hey!" he says dramatically. You both giggle, and despite the tough topic, the tension seems to melt away. It always used to be that way with Minho. It's as if the two of you were made for each other. Everything just felt so much better and easier around him. Suddenly, everything in life was a lot sweeter.

"But seriously, don't worry about it too much, kitten. Felix will take care of it, and Hyunjinnie will be running back to you by the morning."

Part 2 out now!

[ghostfacd]

you’ll see my face in every place (but you can’t catch me now)

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!capitol!reader

summary: you were finally dead, so why did you show up everyday in Coriolanus’s life?

warnings: coriolanus is a sick motherf, seriously sick. mentions of sex, mentions of killing & snakes, reader finally getting justice in end (sorta?)

part 1 | can be read off as standalone but recommend reading for context

Coriolanus Snow was utterly and undeniably fucked. He absolutely was.

He was sure when he had gotten rid of Sejanus, Lucy Gray, and you—that that was the end of it, and no one would hear about it again. After all, the Plinths and Ciceros took in Coriolanus like a son, thanking them for taking such good care of their son and daughter when they couldn’t.

And it wasn’t like Coriolanus Snow was some idiot. He knew how to cover up his tracks, and he knew how to do it good. If there’s one thing about him, it’s that he believes if one truly wants to get rid of something, one should do all in his power to make it happen. And that’s what Coriolanus did. He erased every trace of Lucy Gray Baird and Sejanus, and hopefully, you.

Coriolanus woke up one morning in the Cicero estate feeling extremely cold. He looked outside to see snow, which made his lips quirk up in a sly smile. Your parents were devastated over your death, Mrs. Cicero automatically offering Coriolanus your bedroom because she couldn’t stand her only daughter being gone.

- - -

Coriolanus opens your closet, a walk-in closet that not even the whole District 1 would be able to afford. Gosh, he remembered the first time he was here and you were showing him a pretty short dress that covered nothing, and how he wanted to take you right then and there. He did minutes after, and that short dress was long discarded on the floor.

But now your presence was gone, just your clothes that were still there. Mr. Cicero refused for the maids to get rid of it; he said he wanted to remember his daughter for the lovely fashionable girl she was. Coriolanus looked through your sweaters, much were pink or white, but Corio found a dark blue one that was gender neutral that he liked.

Although it was just polyester, Coriolanus felt chills as he wore it. He swore he took in a whiff of your perfume. How could that have been possible? It was weeks after yours and Sejanus’s death, weeks after he went back to the Capitol with a fake sob story and bloodshot eyes. There was no way—just absolutely no way that your perfume could still be lingering on this old polyester sweater.

Snow gasps. A loud sound hits your window, a bird, he assumes. And as he gets closer, his suspicions are confirmed when he sees a unconscious bird on the floor, with snow melting around it.

Snow melting. Snow. Melting.

Coriolanus needed to get out of his own head. It wasn’t healthy.

He was now an apprentice to Dr. Gaul, a spot that brought him enormous pride. Soon, he’ll take over all of Panem, and make sure any remaining rebels would be expelled, or better yet, executed.

“Hey,”

Was Coriolanus going crazy? He was so sure he heard your voice in the trees, just right outside your estate. Mrs. Cicero, your mother, had expressed how much you liked planting, and it was evident from the amount of tall bark trees littering around the entire home.

In the lab, Dr. Gaul was teaching Coriolanus how to be gentle with the snakes so he wouldn’t get bitten like poor Clemensia had before the 10th Hunger Games even started. He thought she was long dead by now, but she had came to him a few weeks prior yelling about how she can’t believe he never visited her in the hospital. Coriolanus didn’t outright tell her—but he saw fading scales all over her neck. The turtleneck wasn’t doing her any good.

“Alright, here you go,” Dr. Gaul says gently, handing Coriolanus one of the longer snakes. He looked into its eyes, and was horrified to see your eyes stare back at him. He shrieked, flapping the snake into the air and blinking a few times to make sure he wasn’t going crazy.

“What is wrong with you Mr. Snow?!” Dr. Gaul asks, astonished by her star pupil’s behavior.

He only gulps, excusing himself home early that day.

- - -

“Oh Corio, I wanted you to have this,” Mr. Cicero approached him as he sat in front of your giant vanity. He was holding a few printed photographs of you and Coriolanus, huddled up together, looking as cute of a couple as ever. He remembered those moments, where you were smiling like crazy as you looked up at him with the doe eyes he seem to have been missing lately. “You know my daughter really loved you. And I’m not a man of many words—but I want to thank you for being there for her. She loved you so much she begged me to let her go to district 12 to be with you and Sejanus again. I hate the way things happened, but at least I know she was loved by you.”

And slowly, Snow starts to crack.

When the Ciceros had fallen asleep, he lit the fireplace, watching as the fire slowly get taller. He takes one good look at the photographs, then throws them in with the flames. He gave his blood, sweat, and tears for this moment. To finally be in a huge estate, to be with loving parents, to be an apprentice to the most important doctor in the Capitol. He deserved this. He did. He gave up his best friend, he gave up his own tribute, Lucy Gray—not that she mattered or anything because Coriolanus established a clear line in his head that she was simply just a district scum who was lucky enough to win because of him. And lastly, he gave up his girlfriend, Y/N Cicero, you, for this.

Coriolanus Snow was not going to let anything get in the way of his goal.

- - -

The next week, Coriolanus suggests the Ciceros throw a party to memorialize you. Coriolanus thinks of this big, grand, emotional speech. He’ll tell everyone how much of a sweetheart you were, how much you two were inlove. Then he’d get stern—saying that he’ll make sure your death won’t be forgotten, especially when he plans on running for president soon.

Everyone claps, so infatuated with the way he speaks. It’s cause he lies; straight from his mouth.

“I know what you did.”

The trees speak to Coriolanus in hushed violent murmurs, almost as if they were mad at him. They spoke in riddles, but sometimes they’d just outright say what Coriolanus had done.

“You killed them. You killed them all.”

“Blood is on your hands.”

“Snow bleeds red.”

And it frustrates Snow. It’s something, for once, that he can’t control. It sickens him that he’s unable to anything about the trees.

- - -

Mr. and Mrs. Cicero die a year later. Rebel bombing, they assumed. But only Coriolanus knew that it wasn’t—that it was him, and because he was like a son to them for the past year, he was under their will, meaning he got the entire estate.

He ran for president with the Cicero family name, and with their money too.

Coriolanus marries Livia Cardew. He doesn’t like her, much less tolerate her, but she was a good asset. Just a trophy hanging from his arm.

And Livia didn’t mind, she knew Snow was incapable of loving her, and she had an itching feeling it had something to do with you.

But Livia loved you when she was friends with you at the Academy, so she doesn’t bat an eye when Coriolanus mumbles out your name while they’re having sex. In fact, Coriolanus refused to touch or look at Livia unless he was under enormous pressure and needed someone—no something—to get his anger out on. Livia always took the blows, but she was still grateful that she hadn’t married Fetus, because that—that wouldn’t have been pretty.

The first thing Snow does as president is cut down the trees. The forests and woods? Well he burned them all. He didn’t like the cat and mouse chase that Lucy Gray had played on him in the woods, so he figured getting rid of them was like finally erasing you from his brain. No more Sejanus Plinth, no more Lucy Gray Baird, and fucking finally, finally!—no more Y/N Cicero.

But Coriolanus made a slight error. Because 64 years later, his ex lover comes back to haunt him, only this time, in the form of a girl from District 12, Katniss Everdeen.

[tropes-and-tales]

Good Girl

Day 2:  Dry humping (Bob Floyd x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!) 

CW:  Idiots in love; praise kink; smut (dry humping; outercourse; whatever the youths call it now - clothed grinding and such); 18+ only.

Word Count:  2996

AN:  This is loosely related to the very loosely-formed Seresin cousin mini-series, found here. It was requested for Kinktober by @justreblogginfics!)

You and Bob continue your little dance for months.

You know the man likes you.  Every time you fly into town to visit your cousin Jake, Bob is always nearby, staring at you on the sly like a lovesick puppy.  He’s always just at the edge of the group gatherings—nights at the Hard Deck, parties at Nat’s house, afternoons at the beach—and you always feel those big blue eyes tracking your movements.

Everyone else notices it.  Harvard and Yale corner you at the Hard Deck, ask if you’ve noticed that you have an admirer.  Nat pulls you aside at her barbeque and obliquely gives you a rundown of Bob’s numerous good traits.  Only Jake holds his tongue, but you catch him narrowing his eyes at the WSO enough that you realize even your cousin—your cousin with his penchant for being self-centered, the handsome narcissist with the blinding smile—has noticed Bob’s crush too.

Bob never makes a move.

Nights at the Hard Deck when you blatantly lament being single.  The party at Bob’s house where you stayed behind to help him clean up.  The little touches you chance:  brushing your hand against his, a light hand on his shoulder, friendly hugs…they are an invitation, but he doesn’t pick up on it.

It’s Rooster who clues you in.  The man takes your hand one night at the bar and tugs you outside where the ocean crashes along the shore in the darkness.  In the dim light, you can just make out the man as he peers down at you.

“I know what you’re doing,” he says.  “But you’re going about it all wrong.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

You catch the white of his eyes as he rolls them.  “C’mon.  It’s obvious you like Bob, but you gotta make the move if you’re interested.  You gotta be blatant with him.  He won’t get it otherwise.”

“Why not?”  Your stomach twists unpleasantly; you wonder if perhaps you’ve misread the situation.  Maybe Bob has a crush, but maybe it’s just a crush, and maybe there’s someone else he loves and this is just a passing bit of madness—

“Guy’s a brilliant wizzo, but he’s clueless with women.”

Now you roll your eyes at Rooster, and he chuckles at the gesture.  

“I’m serious!” he continues, and he holds his hands up, helpless.  “I think he misread a situation once with a girl when he was younger, and I think it scared him off of making the first move.”

“That’s a terrible excuse.  I got food poisoning from bad tacos once but I still eat tacos.”

Rooster chuckles again.  “Yeah, but you women can be devastating when you reject us.  I think poor Baby on Board was crushed before and now he’s just a pining little asshole, staring at you from across the bar.”  

You shrug helplessly and glance back into the Hard Deck:  you can see Bob in profile, and you get the impression that he’s just turned away, that he didn’t want to get caught watching you.  Watching you and Rooster together, chatting outside, laughing outside.  You feel a wave of sympathy for what Bob must be thinking—that you’re flirting with Rooster, that maybe Bob has missed his chance.

You turn back to the pilot.  You square your shoulders.  “Okay, I hear you.  I’ll be the brave one.”  A beat as anxiety blooms in your chest, makes your ribcage feel a fraction tighter, makes it just a bit harder to draw a full breath.  “And you’re sure he likes me?  You aren’t misreading this somehow?  I don’t want to look like an idiot, Bradshaw.”

He laughs outright, and he hooks an arm around your neck to pull you into a friendly hug.  

“Ah, kid, he loves you.  You make the first move, he’ll probably go ring shopping next weekend,” he says, and he lays a smacking kiss on the side of your head before releasing you, shoving you gently back towards the bar.

-----

You may be confident, but that confidence doesn’t always extend into your romantic life.  Still, you decide to be brave.

You make the first move.

When you go back into the Hard Deck, you notice that Bob seems quieter than usual, and you guess that he saw the hug, the friendly kiss between you and Rooster.  You guess that he is drawing incorrect conclusions about what he thinks he saw, and you hate to think of him suffering needlessly.

You sidle up to him, and you feel another wave of tenderness towards the man when he turns to look at you—still with that soft smile on his face, a glimmer of hope in his eyes despite what he must be thinking.

“It’s too noisy in here,” you say close to his ear.  “I was going to take a walk on the beach.  Do you want to join me?”

The hope in his eyes turns blatant.  “Really?”

“Yeah.  You wanna go?  C’mon.”  You don’t give him a chance to stammer his way out of it; you thread your arm through his and tug him towards the door, and he follows you without any resistance. 

You catch Rooster’s eye, then Nat’s as you leave.  The former tips you a knowing wink.  The latter gives you a nod, and she lifts her glass in a salute.

You don’t release him until you’re at the water’s edge, and you bend down to untie your sneakers and peel out of your socks.  He hesitates a beat then joins you, and he rolls up the pants to his uniform so that his shins are bare.

The two of you walk along the shore in silence for a bit.  It’s one of the things you like best about Bob—how he lacks the braggadocio to always talk, to always fill up every bit of silence with the sound of his own voice.  You know he’s perhaps more shy than the average person, but he doesn’t seem undone by it.  He seems comfortable just to be himself:  quieter than most, willing to sit back and watch.  

Case in point:  you hold your shoes and socks in one hand, and you take his hand with your free one.  Maybe he’s nervous, but his palm is warm and dry, not sweaty or twitchy.  If he’s nervous, it’s not obvious.

And he breaks the silence, after a while.

“Growing up in the Midwest, I never even saw the ocean until I enlisted,” he says.  

“Same,” you reply.  “I mean, growing up in Texas, we went to Galveston a few times, but that was technically the Gulf, not the ocean.”

“You like it?”

You feel the water lapping around your ankles, the give of the sand underneath your soles.  “I do,” you admit.  “There’s something really peaceful about it, and I love poking around at low tide and looking for sea glass.”

He glances at you, and you can hear the teasing in his voice when he replies, “I’m gonna tell Hangman that his cousin only visits him because he’s stationed along the coast.”

The words slip out of your mouth before you even realize you’re saying them.  “Maybe I only visit Jake because I like one of his coworkers.”

The light-hearted feeling of the moment deflates; Bob goes silent.  He takes a beat to reply, and when he does, his voice sounds strained.

“Bradley.”  It comes out curt, two quick syllables.  A statement, not a question.

You shake your head, let out a grumble of disagreement.  Up ahead, you can see the outline of a lifeguard station, painted white and rising ghostly out of the night.  You want to sit with him and finally talk with him, so you tug his hand and lead him there.  The two of you sit on the steps, side by side, hips touching and facing the ocean.

“Not Bradley,” you tell him as you pick up the thread of the conversation.  

“I saw you tonight—”

You shake your head again, cut him off.  “He wanted to talk to me,” you tell Bob.  “About you.”

You feel him go rigid beside you, and he huffs out a frustrated breath.  If there was more light, you’d see the furious blush that breaks out across his face, but it’s dark enough that you can only guess at his embarrassment.

And now that you’ve opened the Pandora’s box, you can hardly take it back, so you plunge forward.  Usually confident, you’re glad for the darkness too—you hope it hides your shaky hands, your inability to turn and meet his eyeline.

“I think you’re great, Bobby.  Honestly.  I thought you were handsome the moment I met you, but then I got to know you, and you’re quiet but you’re funny and sweet, and I was giving all these signs that I was into you, but nothing…I mean, I like you a lot and it’s just…”  You trail off, lose your words like an idiot.  You hadn’t enough time to rehearse this in your head; you just grabbed him at the Hard Deck and dragged him out here, and now you’re fumbling it completely.  You drop your head and swipe your sweaty palms along the sides of your shorts, and you take a deep breath—

You hear his soft “hey,” and then a split second later you feel his warm hand on your face, tilting your head up and turning you to face him, but nothing on earth could prepare you for the way Bob Floyd kisses:  gentle but firm, only a bit hesitant.  His lips are soft, and he breathes out a quiet groan when you reach up and lay your own hand along the side of his neck.

Your thoughts go fuzzy.  Your concentration—all the words you were fumbling to say—is shot, but when you try to break the kiss to finish what you were saying, Bob shakes his head faintly and mumbles against you lips.

“I know,” he says, and you can hear his accent breaking through.  “I know, honey.  Me too.”

Then he kisses you again, firmer this time, and a moment later, when he runs the tip of his tongue along the seam of your mouth, you open yourself to him, allow him to taste you.  You taste him too, and Bob Floyd tastes like the grenadine-laced Coke he nurses each night at the Hard Deck, never much of a drinker even on the rowdiest night.

If nothing could prepare you for the way he kisses, then certainly nothing could prepare you for how sweetly dominant he is, how perfectly he walks the line between gentlemanly and not.  Your clumsy confession must have given him the wherewithal to take charge, and you’re surprised when he puts a hand on your waist and gently urges you to turn towards him…then how he just as gently urges you to climb onto his lap.

It doesn’t take much urging, you find.  You’ve been ravenous for months for this exact moment, and you had thought it’d never come.  You break away long enough to study his face—this close, and with the faint light of the half-moon in the sky above you, you can see his wide blue eyes, his parted lips as he gazes back at you.  You don’t see any hesitancy in his expression at all, but then he breathes out, “please, honey” and he squeezes your waist, so you clamber onto him with no grace whatsoever, but neither of you care because the moment you’re settled on him, you bend your head to kiss him again.

As it turns out, maybe Bob was just as ravenous for this moment too.  He puts his other hand on your waist too, draws you closer to him, and you can feel the nudge and brush of his growing erection against your inner thigh.  He makes a strangled, pained sort of groan in the back of his throat the first time you touch him there, and his hands spasm on your waist, grip you tighter before he schools himself and apologizes.

You break the kiss, slow the moment down.  You cup his face between your palms and hold him steady, tilt his face up towards yours.

“Bobby, why didn’t you ever say anything?” you whisper.  

He shakes his head against your hold and offers you a rueful grin.  “Didn’t think you were interested.”

You snort and press a light kiss to his forehead, then another few to his cheeks, the tip of his nose.  You can feel how flushed he is under your lips.  

“You think I just randomly hang back at parties to help the host clean up?” you tease.  You shift your head, whisper the words in his ear, and you note how he squirms under you.  He’s growing harder, even at your playful kisses.

“Just thought…ah, just thought y-you were bein’ nice.”  His accent comes out stronger, and his hands squeeze you tighter again before he loosens his grip.  “You’re always so…so nice to everyone.”

“I’m nicest to you,” you point out.  You kiss a trail along the line of his neck, and he tilts his head to grant you the space.  At his pulse point, you can feel his heartbeat thundering away there, so you bare your teeth and nip him—not enough to hurt or even sting, but he groans out “shit, honey” and wraps a strong arm around your waist, hauls you right up against where he’s straining against his uniform for you.  His other hand finds the back of your neck, and he draws you to him, kisses you breathless as he guides you against him, sets a steady, rocking motion against him.

It's too much:  the way his clothed erection hits you just right, how he pushes you back and forth, over and over, until you are so wet that you’re certain you’ve soaked through your panties and your shorts.  Everything feels sensitive, swollen, but he keeps guiding you, lifts his own hips in time to the rhythm he sets.  It’s too much but it’s not nearly enough, and you wish you’d known how this entire evening was going to unravel because you would have just taken him home instead—

“This good?” he asks.  His face is tucked against your neck; you’re a fraction higher than him, perched in his lap, and he works his mouth almost lazily against your neck, your throat, the underside of your jaw.  He has one arm around your waist, holding you tight to him, but his other hand settles against your ass, kneads you there, digs his fingertips into the fat of your ass like he wants to own you.

You start to make a joke about being surprised to find he’s an ass man, but then he dips his head, works an open-mouthed kiss right where the swell of your breasts begin.  You whine at the sensation and thread your fingers through his hair.  You hold him there, and the desire coursing through you—the sharp ache between your thighs, the prickly-hot flush across your skin—makes you feel fuzzy, light-headed.  You remember he asked you a question, so you answer him, nod hard and mumble yes, he’s making you feel good, he’s making you feel amazing, but what about him?

“Don’t worry about me.”  He nips at your collarbone, runs his tongue along the line of it, dips his tongue into the divot at the base of your throat.  “Wanna make you come, honey.”

Hearing those words come from his mouth makes your desire rachet up higher, hotter.  You grip his hair harder, whine out his name, but then he adds, “you gonna be my good girl and come for me?”

There’s no way he could have known of your praise kink, so it’s just a lucky guess, but the unexpected phrase—my good girl…fuck if it doesn’t make you cock-drunk and stupid.  No other guy really ever cracked the code of that kink for you.  A few had made half-hearted attempts when you mentioned it, but Bob Floyd stumbles over it immediately, and your mind goes blissfully blank:  yes, you want to be his good girl.  Yes, you want to come for him.  Whatever he wants.  Anything he wants.  Everything he wants.

You let go of your hold on his hair, and you cup his face again, tilt his head up so you can kiss him.  “Yes,” you whisper just before you slot your mouth over his, push your tongue against his, kiss him so deeply that you’re sharing the same breath, mapping the inside of his mouth with your tongue, memorizing every bit of him you can.  Yes, yes.  Yes to all of it.

Mind blank, your pleasure overtakes you:  you feel the heat and friction from where he sets you grinding against him, you feel the bulge of his cock hitting you perfectly, and every bit of him—his subtle cologne, the soft feel of his hair, the quiet little groans he makes, the flex of his muscles as he holds you—pushes you close to the edge.  You teeter there, you ride him faster, the seam of your shorts pressing deliciously against your swollen clit, but it’s his words that push you over.  His quietly domineering orders.

“Come for me,” he whispers, and it’s a harsh, punched-out sound that makes your stomach swoop when you hear it.  “My good, sweet girl.  Come for me.”

Your orgasm breaks around you like a wave, and Bob releases his hold on your ass to draw you closer to him, let you ride it out as you shudder against him.  Both arms wrapped around your waist as pleasure sparks outward from your core, travels up your spine and courses through your limbs until your head is swimming and he’s tucking you against him.

“That’s it,” he whispers into your hair.  “Good girl.  So fucking good for me.”

And all you can respond with is yes, yes.  Only for you, Bobby.

[imrllytootiredforthis]

The ‘bad’ kind of desire

pairing: soobin x reader

synopsis: you can't touch him, because he's too innocent, too sweet. but god you wish you could.

warnings: implied fem reader (can't remember if it's outright said), dom reader, sub soobin, masturbation, fingering, lowkey corruption kink, mentioned mommy kink, think that's really it

a/n: the first portion of this fic has been in my drafts since roughly july last year and was in my notes app for a few months - at least - longer than that so don't even ask me how old this really is, but at least it's out!!😭

“Am I bad person?”

Beomgyu scoffs, looking at you with eyebrows raised. He nearly laughs at the ridiculous statement coming from your mouth.

"What?"

And that makes him lose it, unable to even hold it back as he barks out a laugh, looking at you as if you've grown a second head. 

It’s a hard thing to fathom coming from you given that you’ve definitely never had any qualms about your morality when it comes to this kind of stuff. “Really? You’re asking me that?”

His best friend sits across the room, oblivious to the conversation, his headphones pulled over his ears, the game he’s playing flashing on the computer screen in front of him.

Soobin.

Sweet sweet Soobin, messy blonde hair left unbrushed, pajamas still on, not bothering to change as this was all he was planning to do all day.

Sweet Soobin who you can’t help but want to play with. 

Who you can’t help but imagine how pretty he’d look with tears in his eyes.

"I'm not fucking around Gyu-am I a bad person?"

You groan and flop over on the couch, rolling over to rest your head in Beomgyu’s lap, looking up at him with a comically-in his opinion-concerned expression. 

He gives you nothing but an exaggerated eye-roll. "Don't even start."

“But aren’t I?” You look again at the boy across the room, wondering why, why he had to be so stupidly adorable. His lips were twisted into a small pout and why it was so fucking cute.

Why? You wondered, feeling like this was all you were doing nowadays.

Beomgyu resists the urge to roll his eyes at you for the second time in a row, now at the way that you look at his best friend like some kind of lovesick fool, especially considering that all you really wanted was get into his pants. It didn’t really make sense, but hey, who was he to judge? 

“Why? Just because you want to rock his shit? Step on him and make him cry? That makes you question your morality? Out of everything that you've done?”

You gasp, slapping his chest. “He’s right there.” You hiss, not exactly denying the words.

He ignores that, shoving you off of him. He knows as well as you do that those headphones are the expensive noise cancelling ones that he'd gotten from you last Christmas. He barely hear himself yelling at his online teammates much less your hushed conversation.

You look at him as if you want to take him out on a nice picnic date and let him lay his head in your lap while playing with his hair pointing at clouds. Which Beomgyu couldn’t really see in any world, you were never really the type. 

But who knows? Maybe you were really just that eager for his dick at this point-or the more probable scenario-have him on your dick, that it broke something inside you.

“Why’re you so concerned now? Not like you had any issues with Yeonjun or Taehyun. Hell, you kept up everyone else in the dorms,” His voice goes higher as he attempts to poorly mock his roommates. “‘Y/N, more~’ ‘please, I need it-need y-‘“

“Shut the hell up.” You spit, quickly covering his mouth with your hand while your eyes flicker once more to him, still staring intently at his game.

Really, why were you so concerned now? 

Beomgyu was right. You’d had no problem doing the same to them, to Tae and Yeonjun, but they were different-he was different. 

Soobin was different than any of them. They were the product of having fun with someone you knew like the back of your hand and vice versa. Simply satisfying-albeit unimportant-a matter of getting your rocks off with people you knew could find your clit and would let you hit it from the back.

Soobin was Soobin though. The sweet boy who looked at you with the most innocent smile. 

Who got all blushy and embarrassed when you so much as lightly and non-vulgarly flirted with him.

He’d squeak and duck his head away when you called him bunny - again, non-vulgarly, trying to hide the fact that he was blushing and it turned him on-just a little bit.

In other words, painfully obviously, it was clear.

“He’s a virgin!” You hiss, hand still clamped over his mouth despite his garbled reply. You know just as well as Beomgyu knows how bitchless his friend is. Despite the fact that offers for him were nearly endless he was too shy, too awkward to accept said advances. “-I can’t take that away from him, it needs to be special, it needs-“

Your hand, still over his mouth is touched by something warm and wet and you shriek, pulling away quickly with a look of disgusted horror. “Are you serious right now?”

“Fight me bitch, I will not hesitate.” He growls, looking triumphant with the fact that you’ve now backed up to the edge of the couch.

You roll your eyes at him, looking once again at Soobin.

Fuck, why does he have to be so adorably innocent?

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, wiping at his mouth. "Just trust me, he'd be happy to be used by you. He might be a virgin, but he's nowhere near innocent."

"And what do you mean by that?" You sit against the arm of the couch, wiping Beomgyu's saliva onto the cushions.

He lets out a dry laugh, glancing back at Soobin before reaching for the previously forgotten remote control. "It means he wouldn't be as freaked as you think he would be if he found your sex toy collection."

—-

You suppose Soobin had always been special in some sort of way.

Always there over the span of time that you'd known all of them. Sitting off to the side while you hung out with the others. In his own room while you were fucking around with his other roommates. Playing his game while you were hanging out with Gyu.

He'd caught your eye more than once or twice, or three times over the years.

He was hot. You'd never discount that. Hot in the loser-y, adorable, cute, corruptible kind of way.

But then again, that kind of was your type if you thought about it.

You'd never been particularly close with him like you'd been with the others. He'd never made much effort to hang out with you but he was there when all the others were, if not one-on-one.

And he got really, really embarrassed when you tried to flirt with him like you did the others.

You didn't mind much, you'd just come under the impression that he was kind of scared of women. Which was also kind of cute.

But Beomgyu was right when he'd said that you'd never cared much about morals in the first place.

It didn't matter how close of friends or if they were a virgin or whatever other silly things that made things like that 'trivial'.

Life was too short to pretend you didn't feel things and besides. Sometimes, you really, just...didn't care.

And it wasn't personal, when you wanted someone, you would pursue it and if there was now friend groups you'd single handedly broken up, well they'd clearly made it personal themselves because you always made it very clear that there was no feelings involved.

Besides the raw, hot tension that made your skin tingle like your nerves were livewire.

Soobin was different though, special.

You felt bad for wanting him. For wanting to dirty him up.

He was something pure, something beyond and above you, perhaps and that was something you weren't willing to ruin, no matter what Beomgyu told you.

—-

"Fuck," he panted, "please,"

The room was dark, the light of his laptop being the only thing illuminating his face.

"Please,"

Sounds filled his ears through the crappy pair he'd owned for years, refusing to get wireless ones.

"Please."

"Bet you fucking like that, don't you?" The voice, only a few octaves higher than your own, still sent shivers down his spine.

Close enough.

"You're a such a dirty slut, you know?"

He whined into his sleeve, a sweater paw pressed over his mouth to keep the moans at bay. "I'm sorry, no, no please I'm sorry~" It wasn't doing a very good job muffling his voice though.

"I need it~"

The video seemed to respond to his desperate pleas. "If you need it so fucking bad then you'll be a good boy and wait for mommy's permission. You hear me?"

Or maybe he'd just watched this video so many times he'd memorized all of the male counterpart's lines. "Yes mommy," he panted, "I'll be good, I-I'll wait for your permission!"

He wouldn't. He knew he wouldn't.

He couldn't, as much as he prided himself on being a good boy. This time he knew he wouldn't even make it through the seven minute and thirty-two second video.

Not with you in the next room.

He couldn't tell if you were with Yeonjun or Taehyun. It didn't really matter either way.

Because he would only focus on you.

You weren't loud, having endured enough of Beomgyu's teasing and gripes about your sexual habits. He decided he hated Beomgyu for that.

But he could hear your pants through the paper-thin walls, heavy and followed by your quiet praises. "Sweet boy," you cooed, just as the porn on his laptop continued, "Naughty boy, such a messy little-" He ripped the earbuds out mid-sentence.

He wanted to hear you.

Not some substitute for the real thing.

He could imagine if you walked it on him right now.

Laying spread out on his bed, pants not even all the way off-just messily pulled below his hips, just enough for his dick to breathe properly and for his hand to easily slide up and down with the amount of pre-cum leaking from the tip.

"Fucking please." He moaned, quiet and needy.

You'd see him a mess, his soaked through sleeves catching the drool from his lips, teeth biting into the soft fabric to keep from crying out too loud.

You'd see him shamelessly fucking up into his fist, calling out pleas with no one there to hear him.

"C'mon baby, you can take it, take it all for me." Your voice was accompanied by the wet sounds of what, Soobin wasn't completely sure but his mind quickly conjured a few different theories. "That's it, a little more~"

Fuck him, he wished you were speaking to him.

Cockwarming him, your pussy wrapped around his dick, warm and wet and squeezing around him so good. Fluttering kisses over his face and throat as you teased along the length of him, slowly lifting up just to agonizingly sink back down onto him, clenching tight while he moaned into a kiss.

Or stroking him to another orgasm, making him cum again and again until his body was shaking and tears streaming down his cheeks. Telling him he could take more, do it one more time, for you. Because whatever pain you'd inflict would be worth it, after all it was your hands doing the damage.

"Fuck you look so pretty like this, just makes me wanna fucking wreck you. Turn you into a mindless whore on my dick."

Fuck, so that was what it was.

His mind managed to come up with one more picture through the haze.

You'd have his wrists pinned over his head with one hand, over him, keeping him down with a surprising amount of strength.

God, he could imagine the way you'd look at him. Maybe you'd be kind and gentle, sweet words and a sweet hand, fulfilling every one of his fantasies while calling him your sweet little bunny.

Like you were with whoever you were with on the other side of that wall.

But he doubted it. Or, he hoped not at least.

In his head you'd be meaner, crueler. Look at him with dark, hungry eyes and watch in a sadistic sort of glee when he cried, when he whined, when he begged and pleaded for more.

You'd thrust into him, hard and punishing, slowing down just to make sure that he wasn't crying from serious pain before you'd slam your hips against his, driving the tip of the toy dead into his prostate.

He'd beg you, plead you to slow down, to be nicer to him.

You'd tell him no. Tell him to be a good boy, voice patronizing and low, tell him only good boys get rewards.

God, that’s what he needed right now.

Needed you.

Your words, your touch, your scent, your presence even. You eyes on him, watching as he fell apart.

Not you fucking someone else in a different room.

Liquid heat flowed through his body, scorching and consuming every coherent thought.

"More."

He imagined it was you. Your hands all over him, pressing up against his throat, fondling his balls, purposely, maliciously ignoring where he needed to be touched most while you drove into him over and over and over until he was screaming in ecstasy.

It wasn’t enough, not nearly 

"You just love my cock, don't you angel? Love being fucked by me into a mindless whore?"

He silently cracked the lube open, lathering his fingers in it before letting them drift lower.

He'd done this before, but it had been awhile and the stretch was beyond overwhelming with your words ringing through the wall.

“You’re just a little angel, aren’t you, bunny?” And he pressed a finger inside, thrusting shallowly, breath picking up as you got louder.

"No, you're not an angel. You're a fucking whore, taking it like you were made for it, huh?" A second finger, following the first, scissoring himself open with a quiet gasp.

"Yeah? Fuck, is that it?" You laugh and he swears it's right in his ear, ringing through his head. "'m gonna make you scream for me baby,"

He whines in frustration, his fingers not deep enough - you not deep enough inside of him. No, he needs it deeper, harder.

More.

"Get on top of me baby, ride me," you mutter, so far but so close.

He can imagine, as he settles on his knees, that the pillow he straddles is you. That his legs are around your hips. That his fingers, positioning on the bed under him is your dick and your hands are pressing against his hips, holding him in place.

"You're mine, you hear that? Mine. My perfect little slut, taking my cock like a pretty little slut." His body trembles, eyes rolling back as he slowly sinks down onto three fingers.

"Your's." He moans in reply.

And finally, finally, he reaches his prostate, hitting it head on with his fingers.

Stars burst behind his eyelids as they slip shut, back arching into the intrusion. He could cry, he thinks distantly that he maybe is.

But it doesn't matter.

Because your hands are on his hips, controlling his movements, leading him the way you want him to ride your cock.

Up,

"Slut." You whisper.

and down,

"Whore." You lean up, teeth nipping at his neck but not hard enough to leave marks.

over,

"Baby," Breathing over the shell of his ear.

and over,

"Good boy~" Teasingly biting at his earlobe.

harder,

"Bunny," Kissing along his jaw.

faster,

"Mine." Across his cheek.

deeper.

Just barely there, ghosting across his lips-

"-Cum for me baby,"

And he does. With his mouth hung open, drool covered sleeve long forgotten over. With his eyebrows furrowed and body curled into itself, fingers pressed against his prostate.

Ropes of cum covering his chest, and his face. Some reaching his lips and his chin, staining his skin and landing in his open mouth.

"Fuck,"

And on the other side of the wall, "Good boy,"

a/n: i was thinking about making a part two but honestly if it took me a year to find the inspiration to finish this one, i'm not sure a second one will ever come out😭

[sicbaby]

nott sure if you take requests, but an average dick sized Ethan? It's his first time and he's insecure about his size. It's not small necessarily, but it's definitely not big

he would be so insecure :(( especially since it’s his first time, and especially because you are the prettiest girl he’s ever laid eyes on, and you are about to take his virginity.

his only “sex” experience was watching porn, and all the guys on there had bigger dicks than he did, and he always felt like that was going to be a problem further down the road.

you guys had been dating a couple months now, and you kept throwing hints at him, trying to make moves, but he would block them every single time. you were starting to think that maybe he wasn’t attracted to you in that way… so you decided to ask him.

“ethan… you’re a virgin, right?” you two were sitting in your dorm room, on your bed. you guys were already making out, so you thought it would be the perfect opportunity to ask.

“uhh..” he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “uh, yeah? yeah, i am..”

“have you ever.. have you ever thought about having.. sex?” you asked awkwardly, not really knowing how to ask him outright if he wanted, or would fuck you.

“uhm... of course, i have! who wouldn't?” ethan chuckles a little, trying to lighten the mood, though it’s still awkward.

you pause a second, trying to figure out what to say. “i’m sorry, ethan. i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. it’s just- i don’t know how to say it. you always dodge me and i’ve just been.. worried?”

“no, no.. shit, i’m sorry. it’s just- i just don’t want to mess this up, or make you uncomfortable, or..” he rambles on, and you just stare at him. “i’m sorry. i’m just nervous, that’s all. i’ve never done this before…”

you let out a little laugh and a sigh of relief. “it’s okay, baby… you don’t have to feel nervous around me.. i want to make your first time.. special.” you smile.

his eyes seem to light up. “really? what if i- what if i mess up?”

“don’t worry, ethan, i won’t care. i just want you to experience it.. i want to make you feel good..”

he blushes at that, and looks down at your bedsheets. “i just don’t want to disappoint you.”

“what do you mean, hmm?” you lean in closer, starting to kiss down his neck, and you can feel his breathing get heavier, though his body feels stiff. “we don’t have to, if you don’t want to, ethan..”

“no, no! i- i want to! i want to, y/n. i’m just- i’m… nervous.” he repeats.

you laugh once more, into his neck, before pulling away. “what’s there to be nervous about, e? i’ll take good care of you..” you whisper. this seems to put ethan at ease again, and he lets you continue.

you kiss down his neck again, and the poor boy is already hard, just thinking about the events that will transpire. in the back of his head, though, he’s worried you’ll be disappointed with his size, and he contemplates stopping you from even going down on him. he doesn’t know what to do.

you lift up his shirt, taking it off, making sure to read his face. you could feel how nervous he was, but you thought it was so cute. you eye his abs and his chest, and how built he was. you lean in to kiss him again, and he can feel his worry start to slip away. that is, until you start to unzip his jeans mid-kiss. he pulls away a little, but it’s not enough for you to notice. you get his jeans unzipped, and start to pull them down, but his hands stop you.

“wait, i-“ he says, looking into your eyes.

“what’s wrong, e?” you ask, your hands still held onto the top of his jeans, his hands over yours.

“i-“ he sighs, looking to the bed again. “i’m not- i’m not.. big…” he says, disappointment laced within his voice.

“what?” you ask, trying not to giggle.

his face grows hot, and he feels like crawling into a hole and never coming out. he flushes, looking down at the ground. "uh, well, i’m just—i'm really—you know..." after a moment, he seems to gather his courage. "i'm worried it won't be enough for you..."

you pout at him, thinking he’s so adorable like this. “oh, baby..” you place your hand on his cheek, forcing him to look up at you. “can i.. can i see it?” you ask.

he looks away. "only if..." he looks up with an expression of pure pleading. "only if you promise not to laugh. please? please don't laugh."

you pout even more. “i won’t laugh, baby. i promise.”

ethan gulps, still feeling a bit embarrassed, but he wants to prove himself for you. he wants to be good for you. “okay, i trust you..” he whispers, and nods to where your hands were. you take another second, moving to the floor, and finally pull his jeans down. you stare at his boxers, and you can see the outline of his dick through the gray. your eyes widen, and you lightly trace the shape of him through his boxers, which makes his breathe hitch. you coo at him. “not big, hmm?” you tease, and he blushes again.

“stop it,” he draws out, throwing his arm around his face, hiding in it, not wanting to look at you.

you take this opportunity to quickly pull his boxers down, and it slaps up against his belly. he hisses at the cold air, but still doesn’t look at you.

you gasp, and he thinks of the worst. you reach a light hand out, and begin to touch him, just barely, and he lets out a tiny whine, peeking just a bit through his arm. “you’re not even small, ethan. you’re perfect…” you whisper the last part, and he slowly removes his arm, tilting his head a bit.

“w-what? really? you think so?” he asks, sounding hopeful.

“yeah, baby.” you two make eye contact, you on your knees at the foot of the bed, right next to his dick, and his mouth suddenly goes dry.

“sorry. sometimes i just, get a little too inside my own head, i guess. i just needed your reassurance, that’s all.” he says, his cheeks still a pretty red.

you kiss the tip of his dick, before returning to sit next to him on the bed. his wide eyes never leaves yours, and his mouth is open slightly in awe. “well, i think you’re absolutely perfect, e.” you say, right before kissing him.

the next thing you know, you’re naked and underneath ethan. you got him all worked up, and now he’s nervous again, but for another reason. he wants to make sure you feel good, and he’s so worried that his inexperience will get in the way of that.

“are you ready, baby?” you ask underneath him. he swears he’ll never get used to seeing you like this.

“yeah. yeah, i’m ready, y/n.” he says, as he positions his cock at your entrance. he looks up at you once more, and you nod, letting him know it’s okay. he pushes his tip against your hole, and you let a quiet moan out, which is enough to boost his confidence. he slowly inches himself in, his mouth opening bigger and bigger the more he moves. he can’t believe the feeling, he feels like he’s in heaven, stuffed to the hilt in your tight cunt.

you, on the other hand, feel just right, and you make sure to let ethan know through your moans. though he’s an average size, his cock fills your cervix just perfectly. “fuck, e, you’re doing so well… baby,” you moan out, and ethan can’t help but smile. he can barely speak, focusing so much on getting his thrusts right, the angles right, and he wants to make sure that those pretty noises don’t stop coming out of your mouth.

he thrusts a little too rough once, and accidentally slips out of you, his wet cock rubbing up against your clit to your belly, causing you to yelp.

“sorry- shit…” ethan apologizes breathlessly. “you’re just so fucking beautiful- you’re making me nervous..” he smiles, leaning down to kiss you, leaving you no time to react.

after a while, and he finally gets the hang of it, he becomes more verbal, and you can tell he’s a lot more confident now. “how does it feel, baby? am i doing okay?”

“you’re doing so good, e. making me feel so good.. don’t stop, baby…” you moan out, and ethan decides to go a bit faster at your words. he’s a bit sloppy with his movements though, which is expected, since it’s his first time.

every single time you praise him, he goes harder, and you can feel his anxiety lift. you smile to yourself, wondering if your pretty boy had a little bit of a praise kink, but you’d have to delve more into that next time.

it doesn’t take long before ethan pulls out and releases all over your belly, and he’s in absolute awe, seeing the girl of his dreams covered in his own cum. he never though that his fantasies from his favorite porn would ever come true, and he’d never thought a pretty girl like you would be so happy with his size. he realizes that you didn’t finish though, but you reassure him, and he’s excited to go again, and learn more about your body and what pleasures you.

“wanna taste you now, baby. wanna make you cum, too. teach me?”

[pandoraslxna]

Lost and found — Chapter 4

adult Neteyam x female human scientist

Words: 6.2k

Summary: Neteyam hates humans. One day, he finds you all alone and lost in the forest, but quickly decides against killing you. What might be the odd reason for that?

Warnings: explicit smut, neteyam‘s pov, queue play (hehe), Neteyam whimpers, praise kink, heavy size kink, alien biology, slight language barrier, p in v, belly bulge, creampie, hair-pulling, fluff <3

Notes: check my masterlist for all chapters

To say that his parents weren’t happy about the human that Neteyam bought home was an understatement.

Especially his mother was outright furious by the sight of the little demon, her smaller frame hiding behind her oldest son, seeking protection from her glaring gaze. His father, on the other hand, was very familiar with the story of a human and a Na’vi choosing each other as mates. Of course he wasn't thrilled when he found out that his son had simply chosen to make this decision for the little human, claiming her as his mate when she biologically wasn’t even able to do the same. Technically, he could’ve at least asked her out first, he said. But what was done now couldn’t be reversed. She might’ve not willingly accepted to become his mate at first, but Neteyam had chosen her and fulfilled his claim. (Multiple times by now, but obviously he didn’t tell his parents that.)

What mattered was, that they were mated now. And she willingly agreed to stay.

She got familiar with his clan, with high camp and his siblings pretty quickly. And even though she was hesitant at first, the little human even allowed him to take her on a ride on his ikran at some point, helping her explore places of the forest she had never seen before. It made his chest swell with pride, watching her eyes widen in awe at the sight of all the different flora and fauna he introduced her to.

Neteyam learned quickly, that she was a curious thing by nature. A little shy at first, but once she got comfortable, he jokingly debated putting her on a leash so she wouldn’t just wander off and get lost or hurt whenever he turned his back on her.

At least teaching his human mate the language of his people was easier than Neteyam originally thought. Which was a relief for the both of them, considering they would have to understand each other without Jake, Lo‘ak or any of the humans of high camp around to translate for them.

The forest was quiet today, save for the sound of a few Syaksyuk swinging from tree to tree, ruffling through the leaves where some rays of the sun shined through, warming Neteyams skin where they touched him. It wasn’t the same place they had met each other just a while ago, but similar enough that it bought back pleasant memories. The faint sound of an ikrans call made him aware that it was still there, circling above the trees, patiently waiting for his rider to return. But that wouldn’t be anytime soon.

"Zekwa", his human mate says, rolling her tongue in an attempt to pronounce the foreign word correctly. Finger. But Neteyam shakes his head with a sigh, "No, it’s Zekwä. Try it again, but slower."

"Zek…wä", she tries again and this time he nods, encouraging her to keep trying, "Zekwä, like this?"

One of the reasons she was so quick to understand and eager to learn, was probably the method of reward he had chosen to apply whenever she did something right.

"Good girl", Neteyam smiled, placing a soft kiss to one of her tender fingers. Then he moved higher, to the palm of her hand, kissing her there. "And this?"

"Tsyokx", she responds with a smile that rises her cheeks. Hand.

"What about this?" Neteyam leaned over to be closer to her. Holding her smaller face in his rather big palms, he gently tilted her head to gain better access to the space right below her jawline. Then, his tongue darts out to lick a small stripe along her pulse point and he feels her shiver underneath his touch. "That’s… Nikre", she says. Throat. And Neteyam doesn’t miss the way her voice slightly trembled. He takes a second or two before he moves, just staying close to her and inhaling her scent.

"Hmh", he hums, placing a kiss to her skin, where it was wet from his salvia now, "You’re getting better at this, little one."

While he rests his forehead against her throat, one of his hands comes to lay on her thigh, gently squeezing the soft flesh there. His hand was big enough to almost fully close around her small leg, her size difference making him utterly aware of her fragility whenever he touched her. Handling her with care had become his number one priority over the past few weeks and he had to learn how to gauge his own strength, in order not to break her.

"What’s this called?", he whispers, feeling her swallow around the lump in her throat.

"T-Taeng", she exhales softly to which Neteyam straightens his back and sits up to properly look at her. Of course, her cheeks had turned red. "It’s Ta'leng", he corrects her with a chuckle. Thigh. "Stay focused."

As he moves to sit back on his heels, some of his braids sway over his shoulder, the colorful beads in his hairs clicking together and he catches the way her eyes follow their movements.

Neteyam knew she liked them. He had braided a few strands of her hair himself and they were now decorated with a purplish-blue feather behind her ear and a few beads that were very similar to the ones in his hair. He had made them just for her.

Neteyam had caught her trying to recreate some of the hairstyles she had seen on his people, just a few days ago, but they never turned out how she preferred. He had to admit, she was an adorable little thing when she got frustrated, but he gladly offered to help her.

He just loved how much she cherished her braided hair and all the neat little accessories decorating them ever since.

Now she was staring at his hair again, but something told him that this time, it wasn’t his hairstyle or the pretty beads in his braids that caught her attention. Neteyam could only assume what it was.

"Neteyam?", she calls for him. The way his name rolls off of her tongue, like warm honey, makes goosebumps appear on his skin. It was the first word she had learned to pronounce in Na’vi and he wished it would’ve taken her a while longer to learn, just so he could hear her say it over and over again. He just knew he would never get tired of her saying his name.

Her short fingers point to the thick braid laying over his shoulder, the one that was longer than the rest of his hair. "What’s the Na’vi word for…this?" Neteyams gaze followed the direct of her finger, to see what she was pointing at. Reaching for his painstakingly braided tswin, he held it up for her to see.

"This? It’s my kuru", he explains with a soft smile, "or tswin."

"Oh I think I know that one", the human exclaims happily, "it’s called neural queue in my language!" Instinctively, her hands reach out to touch it and even though he’s a little taken aback by her curiosity, Neteyam let’s her. A pleasant chill runs down his back as she gently feels the braid up and down in awe, seemingly impressed with how tidily his hair was braided. Her hands glide over his hair, starting from the base of his skull, until she reaches the end of it. Turning it from side to side in her hand, the soft hair at the end of his braid part and reveal something that must’ve seem very alien to her, going by the way her eyes widened slightly.

She was looking at the little, pink tendrils, how they moved completely unwillingly and her small mouth opens like she intended to say something, but no words seem to come out. He knew that this wasn’t her first time seeing them. She had seen them before, just briefly when he had bonded with his ikran, but now he realized she must’ve never seen them up close before. And knowing that the humans anatomy did not possess anything similar to his, he doesn’t feel offended by her curiosity. She would have to learn more about his kind one way or another, he thought. And at least he could be the one to teach her.

Inhaling a shaky breathe to calm himself, he continues to let her explore. But curious as his little human mate was, exploring with her eyes only, seemingly wasn’t enough after just a short while. With wide eyes he watches as her other hand moves, inching closer to touch the tendrils and every hair on his body rises by the sheer sight of it.

Neteyam swallows thickly and watching her curiosity get the better of her, his first impulse is to take his tswin from her hand. Despite all of what they had shared together so far, this was still such an intimate part of his body and it felt… strange, to let her touch and explore him there.

But again, he lets her. She was his mate after all. And if she would’ve been even partly Na’vi, they would’ve already made tsaheylu with one another. The thought alone had his tail standing upright, curling and lashing in the air restlessly. He couldn’t deny that his body was yearning for this type of intimacy, the only one he couldn’t share with her.

Neteyam suddenly sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth, when she was just mere inches from touching him there. Immediately, her eyes shot up to look at him. It was just for a brief second, yet her eye contact was so intense, as if she was wordlessly asking for permission to continue. And even though it was almost unbearable for him, Neteyam once again decides to let it happen.

Her hand comes closer and closer, slow and steady, and it made his heart race and a warm feeling arose in his stomach. Still, he couldn’t tear his eyes away, until the pinkish tendrils wrapped themselves around one of her delicate fingers.

Neteyams whole body tensed at this and he squeezed his eyes shut as a shiver ran through him, his breathing increasing at the unfamiliar feeling.

"Th-This is tsaheylu", Neteyam murmured while he was trying his best to stay composed, "It’s the… the sacred bond between all of Eywa’s children. It allows us to mentally connect and share information. When you are bonded, you gain access to each other's physical senses. Pain, happiness, fear… ple-pleasure."

Her curious gaze flicked from his tswin, to his eyes and then back, as he spoke. Meanwhile her fingers continued to play with the extensions of his nervous system. Neteyam had to lean back on his palms to put some distance between her and himself, taking deep breathes to sort his own thoughts. She probably had no idea what she was even doing to him, he thought, trying his absolute most to keep all these noises down that arose from deep in his chest.

"But we", he exhales shakily, "we don’t bond like this. We bond by connecting them."

"Oh", she exclaimed quietly at that and he catches the way she looks down on her hands. Her eyebrows rise as if she had a sudden thought, before she asks him worriedly, "am I hurting you?"

Neteyam hesitates, but then shakes his head. What he was feeling in this moment was hard to describe. No, it didn’t hurt. But it also couldn’t be compared to the actual feeling of bonding with one another, it was more like a tingling sensation in his brain. Like getting tickled with a feather, with muscles twitching on their own, having no control over the way his body reacts to the sensation. It felt foreign, maybe a little weird too, but at the same time, it felt strangely pleasant. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before.

The idea of touching his own tswin like this had somehow never occurred him. It wasn’t like someone had specifically told him not to, it just wasn’t something that ever crossed his mind.

Watching and feeling the way the thin tendrils of his kuru moved into the embrace of her soft hands felt like someone was pouring warm syrup straight into his brain. Neteyam could feel how his pupils dilated further with every passing second, until they were almost fully black. The whole time, their focus was entirely on his mate. A low, breathy sound, like a whimper, escaped him as the unfamiliar feeling continued to spread through his whole body, the more she played with him like this.

Once again, he was dumbfounded at the things that this human was capable of. Not only was she able to sent him into his rut, when her biology was so different from his, but she also made him feel things he had never felt before. Things that he was sure no other Na‘vi could make him feel. How did she even know what to do and how to touch him to get him to react like this?

Neteyams breathing wasn’t just heavy, he was almost panting now. Letting his head fall back, he squeezed his eyes shut again to try and calm himself, but the heat that’s been spreading in his core slowly becomes hotter and hotter, until it’s almost unbearable for him to ignore. He doesn’t even realize how little whimpers and moans begin to fall from his parted lips freely, too busy to keep his focus on the strange feeling that could be mistaken as pleasure, entirely created by the humans hands playing with the tendrils of his kuru.

But maybe that’s what it was, what he was feeling. Pleasure.

Neteyam shifts a little as he feels something stir, right there under his loincloth, and he knows if he would look down, he would find himself hard and aching. Surely, this wasn’t supposed to make him feel like that, he thought. But it did.

Swallowing hard, he forces himself to open his eyes again, only to be greeted by a sight that just adds further to the tightness in his loincloth.

Her plump lips are parted, coated in a thin layer of salvia as if she had wet them with her tongue barely a minute ago. Her cheeks are flushed in deep red, eyes half lidded and heavy with lust and for a split second, Neteyams eyebrows furrow in confusion.

Was she… enjoying this?

It was like a switch had been flipped when her eyes suddenly met his. To his surprise, she unexpectedly lets go of his tswin in order to jump up to her feet. While he continued to watch her with great curiosity, she moved to stand directly over him. Even when he was sitting, leaning back on his palms like that, her navel only reached up to his chin and he was tempted to lean in and kiss her right there.

But the question, what she was even intending to do, already laid on his tongue. He quickly swallowed it down though, when she began to undress right in front of his eyes. The human fiddled with her clothes, discarding them quickly, which made her need become obvious to his eyes. She was, in fact, enjoying this.

During all the time they had spend together so far, he had never seen his little human so desperate before. And if so, it was usually him who would make the first move. It was him who would bend her in any position he favored, him who had to make her admit how needy she was, him who had to coax these pretty sounds out of her, because she was too shy and too flustered to act on her own. But not today, though, that was was for sure. Today she was acting different.

Her feather like weight settled on top of him, snapping him out of his thoughts when she straddled his waist. But Neteyam stays unmoving. He lets her act on her own this time, wanting to see what his sweet mate was carving for so much. Almost comically impatiently, her hands reached between their bodies. She scoots back just a little to make room to pull his loincloth to the side, just enough to let his cock spring free. It slaps against her lower stomach with a soft thud and Neteyams lips curve into a smug grin at the sound of her little gasp of surprise to find him this hard already.

His grin drops pretty quickly, as soon as she grabs him, her small hand not even close to closing around his shaft completely and a guttural groan leaves his lips. When her feather light touch becomes more firm and she begins to stroke him, Neteyam arches into her hand like she’s the only source of relief in the world. The contact of her warm skin on his own makes him twitch in her hand. There was no way he would be able to keep his cool when his mate was touching him like this, hovering above him, flushed and beautiful and so needy, she was ready to take what she wanted all on her own. Eywa, he prayed, give him the strength to not take a fucking bite out of her.

But Neteyam was getting impatient. Whatever she had done earlier to rile him up this much, in combination with the way she was sitting on him now– it bought him on the verge of his self restrain. His chest was heaving, sharp canines barred as he restrains every single urge to switch her position, pin her down and claim her like he’s done so many times by now. But no matter how impatient he was, he had to prepare her for his size first.

Mating with her, with a human, meant he had to take his time and get her ready to take him, fully take him, without inflicting any pain on her.

Usually, she knew that too. This time, however, it seemed like she was willing to take the pain that the stretch of his length and girth bought her, if it meant she could fill her entire being with him and not have to wait another second.

Not giving him much time to realize her intentions, the small human lifts her hips and lines his hard cock up with her entrance. Both of her hands find leverage on his shoulders, squeezing the taut flesh there, as she got into position. With a sharp hiss coming from him, his little mate begins to lower herself, letting him stretch her tight hole inch by inch.

"Oh great mother", Neteyam groans through gritted teeth, feeling her warmth embrace his cock as she sinks down on him, "Easy, go slow."

But his words fall on deaf ears, because the next thing he feels, is the suffocating tightness as she forces more of him inside her too quick. She whimpers and clenches around him, yet the little human tries everything in her might to get those last few inches of him inside.

Neteyams hands immediately grab her by her hips, his four fingers digging into the pillow-like flesh as he holds her firm so she’s unable to move any further.

"S-Stop that", he hisses and throws a pointed look at her, almost glaring as he clenches and unclenches his jaw, "You will hurt yourself, if you don’t slow down."

He would lie if he said he wasn’t as desperate as she was. In fact, Neteyam was fighting against his own body to rut up to take and take— take what’s his. Yet he wanted to let her do this, let her take on her own terms. But the reasonable and still rational thinking part of his brain told him that, even if she so desperately wanted to get stuffed like this, he had to be the one to remind her that she’s not supposed to hurt herself in the process.

A small pout formed on her lips at his words, but her face quickly turned into that of determination. He couldn’t deny the fact that he was amused by her strange antics today. But then he felt her shift, lifting herself off of him until only the very tip of his cock was still resting inside her. Neteyam, naïve as he was, allowed her this, loosening the grip around her hips.

It’s him who then throws his head back with a loud groan, every muscles of his body tensing, because suddenly, and too fast for him to react in time, she slams herself down, her tight hole swallowing all of his length to the base.

"Fu-ck", Neteyam chokes out, once she sits on him properly, her full body weight and gravity pulling her down further than he thought was even possible. This position allowed him a new depth that neither of them had ever experienced before. He feels the head of his cock nestled against her cervix, pressed right against the opening to her womb and it makes him physically shudder.

"Are you trying to kill me, little one?", he grunts and when his eyes finally regain their focus, he sees the way his little mate pants heavily, sweat beading on the frame of her mask and her pupils blown, probably just as much as his own.

For a split second he’s worried for her well-being, that she could’ve hurt herself with that stupid stunt she just pulled. If that was actually the case, she must’ve been pretty good at hiding it, because her facial expression was nothing that came close to the ones you’d see if someone was in pain. It was the complete opposite of that.

The little human shakes her head as if she had lost her voice, breath still coming out shallowly. His eyes are glued to her, waiting for her to do whatever she wanted with his body.

It belonged to her by now.

"I– I want…", she whimpers and her face flushes an even deeper shade of red, her breathing almost fogging the inside of her mask. The soft, velvety walls of her cunt squeeze around him at her words and Neteyams eyes almost cross at that.

"What do you want, hm?", he coos, "Just take it. Take what you want, it’s all yours."

It takes her foggy brain a moment to translate his words, but he’s patient with her, like he always is. Instead of a verbal response, she decides to let her body do all the talking for her. Starting with a pace that he least expected now, moving her hips hard and fast— lifting herself up and down on Neteyams cock and spilling moans that he feels deep to his core. His cock almost slips out each time, before she is slamming her whole body back down, turning herself into a moaning, whimpering mess.

Below her, Neteyam groans and his toes curl at the feeling of her tight heat swallowing him over and over again. He had leaned himself back on his palms to enjoy the full view of her, his mouth slightly agape as he watched her breasts bounce with every thrust. She was providing the perfect view of herself, moving how she pleased without a care for anything else.

Neteyam wanted to jerk up into her so badly. He wanted to slam into her, relishing in the way that his hip bones would leave marks from how hard he would thrust into his mate.

Once again, Neteyam realized just how tiny she was compared to him. His eyes had wandered down on her soft curves, stopping at the bulge on her lower belly that was more visible in certain positions. One of his hands comes to caress the swell, where his cock was nestled deep inside her. It was always a miracle that she was even physically able to take all of him. "Feel me inside you, sweet little human? I‘m so deep, all the way up here. See?", he grunts with a breathy chuckle, "You’re taking me so well, always doing so good for me."

Her cheeks burned with the praise, even though she only understood half of the words that were spoken to her yet. Still, it didn’t stop her from responding, "m‘feeling s-so good, haa- fuck, fuck, yes! Oh my– god, feels so good!"

With the way she plunged his cock into her pussy over and over again, deeper with every thrust, he was certain that it must feel like he was already in her stomach. She was moaning like that was the case, at least. The sounds she knocked out of his throat were a mixture of groans, grunts and sometimes even noises that sounded like whimpers, whenever his dick knocked on her cervix like an iron hammer.

"Neteyam, ahh– f-fuck, Neteyam", she moans and the sound of his name makes his cock throb inside her, "I‘m close, oh god I‘m gonna come!"

He knows these words by now, even if they’re spoken in the sky peoples tongue. It meant that she was nearing her sweet release.

Nodding, Neteyam then grabs her hips and when her breath hitches, she stays down against his pelvis, rotating her hips in circles and switching the direction randomly. Neteyam helps her grind herself against him, feeling her cunt pulse around him, her clit dragging against his skin before she slumped forward against his chest and her whole body went rigid. She gasped and moaned into his ear, her arms encircling his neck and holding him tight, while her legs twitched wildly on his sides.

"There you go, such a good girl", he coos softly, whispering the words of affirmation in her ear as she releases more slickness around his cock, "That’s it, come for me, let it all out. You’ve done so good, my pretty little mate."

She’s shuddering in his arms, broken sobs and whimpers leaving her parted lips and echoing under her exopack mask. Neteyam allows her a moment to breathe and collect herself, come down from the high of her orgasm in the warm embrace of his arms.

She still clings to him, even as he plants his feet firm on the ground. He keeps her flush with his chest, even as he spreads the soft cheeks of her ass with his big hands and then slowly thrusts up into her. She mewls and twitches, her body still sensitive from her previous orgasm, but Neteyam declares her as ready and capable enough to continue. It‘ll be quick anyways, with how hard and aching his cock was by now, throbbing inside her, so painfully desperate to finally reach his own release.

"Hmm, still so wet", Neteyam hums as he feels rich droplets of her arousal roll down his shaft and down on his balls, "You have another one in you, don’t you? Will you come for me again?"

The little human only sighs when his cock drives into her again, seemingly enjoying the feeling of being so full of him. Putting just a little more force behind his next thrust, she moans louder and Neteyam chuckles, "I want to come with you, so you have to hold it until I‘m ready, okay? Can you do that?"

Her first orgasm had already drained her to the point that she felt completely limp in his arms, her body covered in sweat that was sticking to him, mixing with his own, fusing them together as one. Her limbs still twitched with the aftershocks of her climax as he thrusted up and into her again, slowly picking up his pace to find a steady rhythm. Neteyam squeezed a handful of her ass cheeks, the supple flesh bouncing with the force of his pounding and she moaned so sweetly into his ear, completely ignoring his request.

"Hey, are you even listening?", he chuckled softly, sounding like the complete opposite of what he was doing to her.

"Hmm?", she hummed but it sounded more like a whine, muffled against the crook of his neck. Of course she didn’t listen. Well, even if she was, Neteyam realized he was probably asking too much of her again. It was already hard to communicate with her when she had the full brain capacity and focus to do so, but trying to get her to listen, translate the words and actually respond to him when she was this fucked out— impossible.

So he repeats the word that he can translate in her language. "Together", he whispers lowly in her ear and Neteyam could practically feel how the little hairs on the base of her nape raised at this. Her sweet pussy clenched and squeezed his cock so tightly, it caused him to groan from deep in his chest. Oh she definitely understood him this time.

His hips then snapped against hers and she tightened the hold of her arms around his neck for purchase.

She moans and whimpers foreign words in her alien tongue, like it’s been punched out of her by the sheer force of his thrusts. It's all garbled and sewn together, like vines weaving through the forest. Neteyam drinks it up, drinks up the begging and the pleases, the way she looks so blissfully fucked out and helpless in his arms while he forces her up and down on his cock.

Her inner walls cling tightly to his shaft, squeezing him, flexing around his warm, intruding length, coaxing him deep inside with each thrust.

Behind his back, he feels her arms shift around as if she was reaching for something and soon enough, he figures out what that something is. There’s a tug, just a gentle pull on the base of his nape, but it’s enough to make his hips stutter for a second.

"Wh–haa fuck, what are you doing?", he chuckles, albeit a little breathlessly, while the sound of skin slapping against skin still echoes through the forest. There’s no response, obviously, but Neteyam could already assume what she’s plotting.

Again, there’s a tug. This time, she had pulled just a little harder on his kuru and he couldn’t help but let a deep, wanton moan slip past his lips. The grip he had on her tightened to the point he was sure his fingers would leave bruises on her perfect skin.

So this is what it was about.

"You want to come, huh?", Neteyam asked her, even though he knew his question would remain unanswered, "Are you trying to get me to finish because you can’t– ca-haa— oh eywa, fuck!"

He’s interrupted by a feeling similar to electricity shooting through his body, tingling every nerve in his system and causing him to choke on his words.

Behind his back, he feels her hands move and yet again, a lightning of pleasure seers through his whole body. Neteyam just knew that if he would’ve turned his head to look back, he would’ve found her playing with the tendrils of his kuru just like she did earlier.

"S‘too much", he then hears the human whimper, "need to come so bad, please Neteyam I‘m- I can’t hold it!"

She’s a little more than a trembling, incoherent mess by now, the walls of your pussy bearing down around him as he plunges his cock into her. The squelching sounds of her arousal mixed with his pre-cum filled his ears, growing louder by the second. It was only overturned my sound of blood rushing to his head as she was pulling and fumbling with his kuru, her fingers dancing over the sensitive tendrils once again.

"Hmh that- that’s it", he groans, mouths it against her throat, "keep going. Yeah, just like that. Fuck, I’m close too."

The humans back arches as she suddenly begins to mover her hips again. She tries, tries so hard to fuck herself on his cock even though she’s completely exhausted and her legs must feel like jelly by now, yet it’s enough to drive him over the edge.

"teyaaam", she whimpers his name, or half of his name, and it’s the cutest yet most erotic sound his ears have ever heard before.

Her hands leave his kuru in order to grab onto whatever she could reach to steady herself, her dull nails scraping over his back, while he tightens his own hold on her. Neteyams arms encircle her middle completely now, pulling her close as he bucks his hips up and into her, until he’s not even thrusting anymore, it’s just grinding against each other.

Neteyam feels her insides pulsate, as if she was milking him for all his worth. Her legs tremble and every limb on her body tenses as she comes, clinging to him like her life depended on it. But he does too, squeezing her smaller frame and holding her as close as physically possible as he emptied his pleasure into her, filling her with his cum until he felt it leak out of her, leaving a sticky mess between their bodies.

For a moment, Neteyam feels nothing but the warmth of her body, the heat emerging from the little humans soft skin morphing into his own. He feels her chest expand, her lungs filling themselves with air, chest heaving from exhaustion. He also feels how she snuggles against him, a content hum leaving her lips that make his tail curl around her ankle as if trying to hold her even closer. Feeling his cock soften inside her makes her shudder and Neteyam can’t help but chuckle at this.

"Good lesson today", he snickers in the sky people’s language. Hearing his Na‘vi accent makes her giggle softly, which causes heat to rush to his cheeks.

Neteyam enjoys the comfortable silence that then falls over them, so he rests his chin on top of her head and closes his eyes for a while, just listening to the sound of her breathing and the familiar noises of the forest. But then the little human abruptly sits up, straightening her back to look at her mate. Immediately, Neteyams eyes are wide open again, the little hair on his tail raising in alert as she wordlessly scanned his face.

"It’s my turn to teach you a word", she tells him then and despite the fact that she was still entirely bare and sitting on top of him, her voice sounded small and shy. Neteyam felt a little startled at first, but his ears twitched inquisitively, ultimately giving away his inner thoughts.

"Hmh, is that so?", he hums, finally having found his voice again, "Okay then, teach me."

Her cheeks turn into a pretty shade of pink as he nods, giving her the affirmation to do as she pleases. Whatever it was that she wanted to teach him, he would listen.

To his horror, the little human then inhales a deep, sharp breath, her chest visibly expanding as air fills her lungs and then she hooks a finger under her exopack mask— but before he could even lift as much as a finger and bring her to an halt, she had already lifted the mask above her face, with a cute little grin plastered on her face as she held her breath.

Neteyam could only watch in complete shock, utterly dumbfounded. But then she surges forward, suddenly confident, and her lips find his. They move against each other, her arms wrapped around his neck, chests pressed together as tightly as possible and Neteyam never wants to leave, never wants this to end. He moves his hand from her hip, reaches up to hold her face as she kisses him and he kisses her. She’s so warm. So soft. So sweet.

She called the rumbly sound he made when he was so content a purr, and he loved doing it for her. Loved the smile it brought to her lovely lips, how it sometimes made her giggle when their chests were pressed together almost like this.

The kiss was gentle but searing, slow but all-consuming at the same time. It was good. Addicting even.

Unfortunately, she ends it sooner than he’d like, but Neteyam knew all too well that she had to breathe again at some point. Still, he feels a little disappointed when her kiss-swollen lips leave his own.

By the time she leant back enough to look him in the eyes, her mask pulled back over her flushed face, they were both panting helplessly. But now they stare at each other, a sweet smile across her face and he breathes deeply, soaks up the deep emotion dwelling in his chest. He can’t name it, doesn’t know what she feels, but he wants to feel it again.

"Thats called a kiss in my language", she smiles sheepishly, the sight alone enough to make Neteyam feel warm all over.

"Kiss", he repeats the foreign word, testing the right pronunciation on his tongue. "I’d like to have another", he tells her grinning and she giggles. It’s the most beautiful sound hes ever heard and Neteyam thinks that maybe… maybe humans aren’t so bad at all. Not this one at least. Definitely not his human.

"Okay, since you’re so eager to learn today…", he brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, his gaze lingering on her soft looking lips for a few more seconds, before he meets her curious eyes, "I have something else for you."

"What is it?"

Neteyam looks at her– he really looks at her now, taking in all of her features that seemed so alien to him when they first met, but now they were so familiar, so loved and adored by him. And then, without missing a beat, he tells her,:

"Oel ngati kamaeia."

"And what does that mean?", she tilts her head, nuzzling it further into the palm that’s been holding her face.

"It means I see you, my little mate."

[rxzennia]

nocturnality

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 irregular sleep patterns make for good nightmare consolation

aventurine wakes up in a cold sweat, throwing off the sheets as he sits up abruptly. 4am, his bedside clock reads, and he rubs his eyes. he can’t get the images of the thirty-four slaves he had killed out of his head; he watched the life drain from their eyes, and they were children like him. neither could he be rid of the feeling of blood on his hands, from those whom he stained himself with, and those who stained themselves upon him.

see, he isn't the type to seek anyone out in his moment of vulnerability

he doesn’t trust anyone to not take his fears and use them against him

but he thinks you might be safe

you did put up with him for 5 years and counting, after all 

although he still can't really tell if you like working for him

you haven't left yet! and you seem to care about him!

it means something to him, even if you're not outright showering him with warmth

he would've loved it if you were more affectionate, but he finds himself liking the way you’re only ever soft for him 

you’re a slab of ice to everyone else (even to him occasionally, if he doesn’t pester you enough to get you to open up)

anyways, he debates between texting, calling, or visiting you in person

your room is not too far away from his block – he might as well try his luck

(he has insanely good luck, so maybe you will be awake)

before that, he sends you a text just in case

it's not even a text, it's just a random sticker in his recents

your reply comes a few seconds later, and it's so characteristically you

one question mark. literally. just “?”

there he has it, you're still up and about. aventurine is used to your patterns by now, even if he can’t wrap his head around how you sleep so late and rise so early.

well, as long as you're well and doing your job properly, he's not going to question it

though he does wonder if you sleep at all

you’re his dutiful secretary during the day, sorting his documents, reminding him of his schedule and the like

you even follow him into meetings if he asks you to 

sometimes he has to be ready by 5am

and guess what? you're awake and all dressed up by then, knocking at his door at 5am sharp

but you don't go to bed until 3am?

he only knows that because he had once tried to talk to you about a project idea he had at that time and you didn't pick up the phone 

when you finally did pick up on his second call (in his defense, you usually weren’t asleep yet), you sounded groggy

and then you were like “mrrrrrh what is so important that you must wake me?”

he will never tell you how much he found your sleepy voice adorable

that was the earliest he's ever seen you sleep in all the days that he's known you

he really, really hopes you’ll renew your contract with him

you’re his absolute favorite out of all the secretaries he’s had

no one’s as soft with him as you are

no one’s ever tried to listen to him, or to understand him the way you do

out of everyone, you’re the only one who he feels some sort of genuine connection with

he’s seriously considering giving you a permanent position when your current contract ends

a familiar sequence of knocks sound at your door, and you know it's aventurine who's come to visit you. you've set up something like that with him because of the sheer frequency at which he bothers you outside of office hours, and you'd like to know which inconsiderate bastard it is who tries to visit your room past midnight.

affectionately, of course

it's not like he's causing you any inconvenience, so you don’t really care

you look at him, and wordlessly, you open your arms

you don’t need an explanation, or excuses, or an apology, or anything

his eyes are bloodshot, and you can see the cold sweat still on his forehead

he didn’t even bother tidying up before coming to see you

your heart aches, because it isn’t very often your boss comes to you in this state

he doesn’t even hesitate before he plops face first into your embrace

you’re lucky it’s the ungodly hours of no-one-is-awake, because you bringing your boss into your room is not a good look for you

especially when he’s holding onto you like you’re his secret lover or something

you don’t talk, and neither does he

you just hold him as he clings to you like you’re his lifeline

you lift him up easily; you're not about to stand in the doorway for the rest of the night 

he likes how you don’t ask questions, how you comfort him without expecting anything in return

you don’t even know what exactly it is that plagues him, but you’re so tender with him all the same

you settle down in bed with him, though he can tell that you were working before he interrupted you

your monitors are still on, and you have a dozen of papers laid out side-by-side along with a pen that is now abandoned

he feels a little bad, but also he’s overwhelmed by how easily you do these things

like… setting your work aside because he’s looking for comfort

but you’re not even doing it consciously? you’re doing it so naturally like you’re doing it out of habit

he doesn’t think you intended to tuck him into your bed when you picked him up

he doesn’t get it. he doesn’t get you.

you could’ve held him in your lap while you worked and he wouldn’t have complained

to give him your undivided attention like this

are you trying to make him lower his guard? 

he wants to draw the natural conclusion of your eventual betrayal once he lets you in, but he finds it so ridiculous that it’s impossible

you? who’s so gentle with him? who’s not even spoiling him consciously?

aventurine doesn’t feel safe with many people, if at all. the fact that he breathes so peacefully by your side is a surprise in and of itself. when your fingers brush against his hair, he shivers and holds onto your arm tighter. 

“don’t go,” he says, as sleep slowly takes him again, “stay.”

you chuckle, a sound that he loves to hear, as you offer him your entire right side

and your scarf

you don’t know if he’d like it, but you flick the end on your right over to him anyway

he does like it. he snuggles into the fabric without hesitation

he vaguely remembers the fact that your scarf is your weapon, but it’s the least important thing on his mind right now

it’s soft. it smells like you. it’s comfortable.

you’re still trying to work, settling for reading through documents on your tablet

he cuddles up to you, shifting in your warmth until he finds himself a nice position to settle into

you let him sleep by your side, even if you’re unlikely to rest yourself

it’s okay, you can work through the night just fine with your tablet

you’ll be right next to him when he wakes

you glance at aventurine, who’s finally relaxed and getting the rest he deserves. he’s snoring softly all the while holding your arm in a death grip, and you feel yourself overcome with a surge of protectiveness.

you’ll watch over him. when he’s feeling better, you’ll see if he wants to talk about it. and whatever happens next… well, you’ll cross that bridge when you get there. you still have contracts and agreements to review, and there’s only so much time before more work ends up on your plate.

that said, aventurine’s day starts in three hours; maybe you could shuffle a few things around and let him sleep in?