#like sir I KNOW it's a secret third thing and YOU KNOW it's a secret third thing so why are we pretending otherwise!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joelscruff · 1 year

Text

truth or dare (joel miller x f!reader) 18+

notification blog | kofi | in honor of my bestie han @swiftispunk who recently celebrated her birthday (and in honor of spooky season starting 🎃) i thought i'd step outside the boundaries of what i usually write and try something new. i'd also like to give a huge shoutout to @toxicanonymity whose entire masterlist greatly influenced my desire to try something like this. please heed the warnings!!! and as i said this is my first time writing anything like this so pls be kind 🫠

summary: a harmless game of truth or dare ends with you tied up in a certain mysterious neighbor's garage. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: dubcon (reader is given a choice to leave, but not immediately), dark!joel, age gap (reader is college age, joel is in his fifties), unprotected p in v sex, use of restraints, ropes, spanking, degradation, sir kink, dirty talk (use of 'little girl' as a pet name), face fucking, rough sex, creampie, brief anal play, humiliation, inappropriate use of a household item (he puts a flashlight up her cooch), marking (with a sharpie), size kink (joel is much bigger than reader and can lift her), pls lemme know if i forgot anything word count: 8.3k

Your palms are sweaty, fingers sticking to your skin as you stand at the edge of the property with goosebumps already blooming along your flesh. The air is chilly, that end of summer evening air flooding your nostrils as a car drives past through streams of leftover rainwater, headlights blurring your vision for a moment. It passes quickly and you're alone again, standing on the street corner with a mixture of anticipation and dread filling your trembling body.

Everything had been fine about twenty minutes ago. A typical party with your hometown friends, one last hurrah before everyone splits off for the third year in a row to go back to their respective colleges, back to long lectures and underwhelming frat boys. It had gone the same way it always does when you get together - shots, secrets, schemes. No end of summer party could ever be complete without a game of truth or dare, not for your crowd anyway.

It had started simple. "Which one of us had the best glow-up this year?" "I dare you to text the last guy you slept with." "What's the kinkiest thing you've done with somebody?" "I dare you to show us the last nude someone sent you." Typical borderline adolescent challenges, things you all still followed through with despite being too old for the game - it's the principle of it, to indulge and pretend, if only for a little while, that life is as simple as it once was.

"Who's the last person you had a sex dream about?"

You'd twisted your hands awkwardly in your lap, felt heat rush to the apples of your cheeks. Usually a question like this wouldn't make you hesitate, but the subject of the answer had been a slightly embarrassing one. As soon as the name Joel Miller had fallen from your lips, you'd been met with screams and squeals and excited chatter from every direction.

"He's so fucking creepy though," one of your friends had said with wide eyes, palm over her mouth, "He gives off serial killer vibes."

"Oh please, he's not that bad," another had chimed in, "He's just a loner, kinda mysterious. I see the vision."

"Are we forgetting the part where he's old as hell? Dude must be in his fifties, at least."

"But that means experience."

"It could also mean limp dick."

"You guys are disgusting," you'd moaned, leaning back on your hands, "It was one dream, let's move on."

And they had. Briefly. Until it was once again your turn and they'd all rounded on you with cheshire cat grins and glinting stares. You should have known what was coming when you chose Dare.

"I dare you to go over to his house."

You'd resisted, of course. The dare itself didn't even make much sense; what were you meant to do? Go over and ding-dong-ditch his front door like a twelve year old boy? But it had only snowballed from there, all five girls tossing in their own thoughts and ideas, talking and giggling over each other. "She should ask him on a date." "She should just flirt a little bit, see how he reacts." "She could see how far she can get with him, maybe?" "Oh shit, that's good."

You could have always said no - there was no way any of them could force you to do it, even if it would have ended the party abruptly with grumbled complaints and a slammed door. But the more they talked the more you found yourself listening, letting the concept sink in, the images of the dream you'd had the other night flooding to the front of your mind. Mysterious and elusive Joel Miller, big hands covered in the motor oil he uses to tinker with his truck, trailing his messy fingers between the swells of your breasts...

They'd managed to convince you just by the reminder alone, though also due to the fact that they'd each tossed in a twenty dollar bill and stated that simply getting a kiss on the cheek would warrant a win. The prospect was intriguing; it would be a testament to your own desirability, your game. How far can you get with your quiet neighbor who probably hasn't touched a woman in years? Who'll probably fold the second he realizes someone as young and beautiful as you is interested in him?

"I'll do it," you'd said with a smirk, rising from the hardwood, "How hard can it be?"

Harder than you thought, apparently. Because now you stand a few feet from Joel Miller's house, loitering soundlessly at the edge of his front lawn, hesitating. The sun has gone down, turning the hedges along the side of his property into frighteningly tall shadows, dark and menacing. A light breeze flows past and you wrap yourself tighter in your well-worn maroon cardigan, shivering, staring at your boots and wondering if you can really bring yourself to do this.

It'll be so humiliating if he rejects your advances. On the other hand, will it somehow be less-so if he returns your flirtatiousness and you then have to reject him once you've gotten what you came for? How will that make you look? You're not even really sure why you care - probably because the man has done nothing to you whatsoever, nothing that would warrant such a foolish prank as this being played on him. It makes you feel bad, in a way. As much as you and your friends make fun of him, he really is just a man who keeps to himself - perhaps this is going too far.

You notice light flickering nearby, a reflection of fluorescents in the puddles of his driveway. You figured he'd be in his garage - it's where he spends most of his time, bent over the exposed hood of the truck he's seemingly been working on ever since he moved in at the beginning of the summer. You've never seen him drive it, never even seen him leave the property, but you've passed by the house on more than one occasion. You've seen the way he rolls up the sleeves of his flannel, forearms splattered black and grey, expression focused on the task at hand while sweat drips from his greying temples.

Having a sex dream about him really shouldn't have been that shocking, now that you think about it. The man is a mystery, sure, but he isn't ugly by any means.

You swallow down your qualms, picturing the faces of your friends more than likely smooshed against the living room window a few houses back, watching. As soon as you turn the corner, you'll disappear from view, obstructed by the hedges and the sudden darkness of night. You take one more deep breath, one last burst of chilly evening air into your lungs, and accept your fate.

He doesn't notice you walking up his driveway, taking slow and meager steps as you assess the open garage, the truck with its hood popped as usual, the flickering of the florescent lights hanging from the ceiling. He doesn't notice you, but you notice him. You spot a pair of steel toed boots and long denim clad legs sticking out from underneath the truck, hear the clink and clang of metal against metal while he tinkers with something down there, unseen. As you reach the garage it becomes apparent that you still have one last chance to end this before it begins, turn around and take the loss.

But you don't.

"Excuse me," you offer in a weak voice, teetering nervously at the edge of the garage door, neither inside nor out - neutral ground.

The clinking stops, replaced by the steady pounding of your heart in your chest, the heaviness of your breathing. You try to loosen your hands from their fisted forms and unclench your fingers, focusing on the stretch of flesh and bone while the legs beneath the car slowly begin to inch forward. He's not laying on any type of support, one of those wheeled contraptions you've seen other people use - no, he's simply got his back to the ground, a back and body that's slowly coming into view.

His black and green flannel rides up where he's been laying on it, as well as the grey t-shirt he wears beneath; as he slides out from under the car you spot a bare sliver of skin just above his waistband, a patch of hair that trails down into his jeans. A lump forms in your throat. When he finally peeks his head out, you swallow around it and try to remember to breathe.

Greying hair slicked back behind his ears, cheekbones smeared slightly with something black, scruff lining a strong yet soft jawline, a plump bottom lip, and those eyes... dark brown, almost black. It's the face that's practically been haunting you all summer, whether you want to admit it to yourself or not.

His brow furrows as soon as he sees you, "Can I help you?"

It's not the first time you've heard him talk, but it's certainly the first time he's ever spoken directly to you. His accent is stronger than you remember, words slipping smoothly past his lips like butter as he eyes you from the floor of his garage, knees up, hands still hidden in the darkness. A few seconds pass before you realize he's asked you a question.

"Oh, um-" You haven't thought this through very far, that's for sure. What the fuck do you even say? You take a breath and remind yourself that you're good at this, have seduced your fair share of frat boys in the past two years with minimal effort and have never heard the word no. Sure, Joel Miller isn't a frat boy - far from it - but underneath his cold exterior he's still very much a man, and very much capable of falling under the spell of a beautiful woman. You hope, anyway.

"I was just taking a walk," you lie, "Saw your light on, thought I'd come say hi."

He stares at you blankly, like he's unsure exactly how he's supposed to respond - or perhaps he's already seeing through your façade. You take a step into his garage, poised at the edge as you lean casually against the opening.

"Honestly, um-" you push some hair behind your ear and attempt to look shy, though it's not a huge jump from how you're actually feeling, "I've been meaning to talk to you, before I go back to college."

At your words he raises an eyebrow and slowly brings his hands downwards, palms pressing flat against the dark concrete. You watch as he eases himself up and out from under the truck, and god he's tall - tall and broad and huge compared to you, a fact that sends a little flutter into your belly. He takes a step toward the work bench against the wall, eyes still on you as he reaches down and picks up a rag to wipe his hands, big and wide and streaked with oil. You remember your dream and feel a twinge in your underwear.

"Talk to me about what?" he asks, massaging the rag against his fingers.

You shrug as nonchalantly as you can, taking another step inside his garage, closer to where he stands at the work bench. You cross your legs in an attempt to show them off, stretching your ankle toward a spare tire on the floor and accentuating the sheerness of your black tights, the little run that splits the material at the inside of your knee, the hint of bare skin that peeks out beneath.

"Nothing in particular," you say, keeping your voice soft and steady but doing your best to keep that shy girlishness present, "Just... wanted to." You peer up at him from under your lashes and bite your lip, then reach out your hand for him to take. You say your name.

He assesses your hand but doesn't take it, brow still furrowed. "Joel," he replies, "And I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment. Don't really have time to talk." His voice is cold and gruff, absolutely no sign of interest or attraction - dammit.

"What're you doing?" you ask, tilting your head.

He continues to stare at you blankly, "What does it look like I'm doin'?"

Okaaaay, then.

You shrug again and take another step, turning to look at the wall next to you. Tools line the shelves, wrenches and screwdrivers and the like dangling rather precariously here and there, smeared in motor oil and dust. It's a mess but you'd be willing to bet that it's organized chaos, that he likes it this way.

"What's this?" you ask, pointing to a particularly large object, something that looks like a mixture between a pair of scissors and a wrench.

"Bolt cutters," he supplies you monotonously.

"Ohh," you say with a nod, leaning a bit into the confused pretty girl stereotype and hoping maybe he's a sucker for it, "And what's that?" You point toward a small cylindrical object, black and tactical, only a few inches long.

"You never seen a flashlight before?"

Oh. Right. "Woops," you giggle, "Sorry."

You turn your face to look at him sheepishly and he's still watching you, big arms now crossed against his broad chest - impatient. Well, this is clearly not working either. He's frowning, eyes so focused on your face that you feel almost naked beneath it, like he's staring into your soul. You clear your throat awkwardly and tug your bottom lip between your teeth, breaking your own gaze away from him and trying to find something else to comment on.

"So you've been working on your truck," you state, gesturing toward the vehicle as if only just noticing it was even there, "What's - uh - what's wrong with it?"

He's clearly not buying into whatever the fuck you're even trying to sell. He remains silent, eyes still on you, and suddenly it's like you've never even interacted with a man before - and to be honest, maybe you haven't. Frat boys are certainly not men by any means, and nowhere near in the same league as Joel Miller by a long shot, probably almost triple their age with a dark and mysterious aura that feels almost suffocating. He just stares at you, slightly unnerving, but also seductive in its own way, almost like he's challenging you.

"What do you want?" he asks blankly.

"I-I told you," your voice is already faltering, losing its flirtatious edge the more you realize how dumb of an idea this was, "I just wanted to talk to you."

"Yeah, I got that," he says stiffly, "Why?"

You've already exhausted the avenues you thought might work, which means you've got one last chance before he sends you packing. With bated breath you take the final few steps toward him and - averting your gaze - you reach your hand out to touch his forearm with your fingertips. It's feather light, but you're suddenly very aware of the goosebumps that rise on his freckled flesh, the way the thick hair on his arms seems to stand on end the second your skin touches his. Okay, now we're getting somewhere.

"I think you're handsome," you murmur softly, feeling warmth rush to your cheeks when you realize that it's not a lie. And it really isn't. As your gaze gradually tilts up you catch a glimpse of the hair on his chest, peeking out from under his grey t-shirt. You spot his pecs beneath the fabric of his flannel, see the throbbing veins in his neck, the coarseness of his scruff, the sharp curve of his nose, and those fucking eyes - looking at you with a darkness, a lust, that wasn't there before.

He's not just handsome; he's fucking gorgeous.

"What're you doin'?" he asks you, that gruffness still present but being taken over by something else, something darker.

"Nothing," you breathe, still trailing your fingers along his forearm until they reach its apex and dip into the soft part behind his elbow, damp with sweat. You swallow, throat going dry as you stroke his skin with your thumb.

"Doesn't feel like nothin'," his voice is quieter, matching yours, and he tilts his head slightly as he continues to stare into your eyes, "Why're you really here, sweetheart?"

Sweetheart. The word sends a burst of warmth to your chest, a smile to your lips. You unlock your eyes from his bashfully, watching your own movements as you trail your fingers back down toward his hand and wrap them around one of his fingers, so thick compared to your own. You squeeze gently, biting your lip again as you peer back up at him. Here it is. Moment of truth. You tilt your head up slightly, eyelashes fluttering as you lean forward to connect your lips with his.

Except, they don't connect.

Instead he pulls his hands away from you, brings them upwards and wraps them around your upper arms, squeezing tightly. Your eyes widen, confusion flooding your features.

"Turn around and bend over."

"W-what?" Shock doesn't even begin to describe the ice cold feeling that now makes its way through your body, edged with something else - something you can't explain.

"Turn around," he repeats, his big hands squeezing your arms even tighter - relentless, firm - as he peers down at you with a dark hunger in his eyes, glinting black beneath the fluorescents, "And bend over."

He does not give you another chance to obey - you're too frozen in surprise and confusion to do anything yourself. Instead, he uses the force of his weight on your arms to spin you on the spot, shoving you against the work bench. You feel one of his hands move from your arm to your back, pushing hard until you fold, warm cheek coming to rest against the cold wood.

"Wh-what are you doing?" your voice is meager, weak, and you feel him wrap one of his hands around both your wrists like it's nothing, pinning them against your back like they're simply twigs in his wide palm.

"What you're clearly fuckin' beggin' for," he replies gruffly, and you feel his other hand at your skirt, feel the brush of his fingertips at the hem as he reaches upward to grip the band of your tights. Your eyes widen and instinctively you pull back, pull away - he just pushes you back down.

"I'm not-" you begin, shock quickly being replaced with fear when you realize how easily overpowered you are, how fluidly he's able to tug down your tights and expose your ass to him, clad in only a black thong already lost between your cheeks.

"Oh, you're not, huh?" his voice is cold and stoic, angry, "You think you can play games with me, little girl?" His hand comes to rest against the swell of your behind and you suddenly feel his breath above you, hot in your ear, "Tell me why you're really here."

You try to lift your head up to look at him better but he just shoves you back down again. Panic floods your body, mixed with the unmistakable burn of arousal. You feel yourself twitch in your underwear, feel a sudden gush of warmth spill inside the fabric as he begins to trail his finger up and down the thin line of black cotton.

"I-I'm..." You're at a complete loss for words, unable to articulate anything, unsure of what exactly is happening - or about to happen. Two minutes ago you'd been sure he was about to tell you to leave, practically kick you out of the garage himself, and now you're not sure leaving is even a possibility.

He pulls his hand back and you cry out when it comes down to slap against one of your cheeks, a sharp sting and burn you hadn't been anticipating.

"Tell me why you're here," he repeats - authoritarian, firm.

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out except a frightened squeak, something which clearly eggs him on even more. He spanks you again, harder this time, palm flat and wide against your pebbled flesh. The sound that slips past your lips is somehow akin to a moan of some sort, guttural and deep.

"I'll just make it harder and harder, sweetheart," he says then, and the pet name no longer contains the warmth it did mere moments ago; instead it's cold and detached, mocking. You're still reeling when his hand comes down to slap against you again, even harder this time, and your hands ball into fists behind your back as you let out another low moan. More slick gushes into your panties and it's impossible to deny that somehow, despite the fear twinging in your heart, you're so fucking turned on.

"M-my friends," you gasp out, and you feel him squeeze your abused ass cheek which you're sure is already dark with his handprint, "They- they dared me to see how far I c-could get with you."

He lets your words sink in for a moment, squeezing again - tighter, so tight that it hurts. You whimper against the wooden top of the work bench, legs shaking.

"So you came here to get fucked," he finally states.

"N-no, I swear, I-"

"Wasn't a question," he interrupts, and you feel his other hand tighten around your wrists, "You came here to get fucked so you're gonna get fucked, end of story."

"But I-"

Without any warning he suddenly pushes himself up against you from behind, the rough denim of his jeans pressing deliciously up against your exposed skin. You gasp, eyes going wide when you feel the long, thick shape of his dick between your cheeks, huge and hard. He holds it there, his free hand coming down to lay flat beside your head against the work bench.

"You feel that?" he asks, voice suddenly quieter but still full of that ice cold malice, "You feel that cock?"

Fuck. "Y-yes," you breathe, "I feel it."

"You have five seconds before i close this door and stuff you full, understand?" Suddenly all you can hear is the heavy sound of his breathing, the panting of your own, the thud of your heart where it presses painfully against the wood. He's giving you an out.

"I- I-" you swallow, brows furrowing when you feel his hand slacken around your wrists. You could pull away now, yank yourself out of his grasp and sprint down his driveway, return to your friends. Forget this ever even happened.

It's your last chance.

"Five," he begins, breath warm against your face.

Run. Just run.

"Four."

But why?

"Three."

Why don't you want to run?

"Two."

Why do you want to stay?

"One."

He pulls his hand up from the work bench and hits a button on the wall, eliciting a loud mechanical noise to your left as the garage door starts to close. You watch with wide eyes as your chance to leave slowly vanishes inch by inch until it's gone completely, and yet no part of you itches to run, to escape. There's nothing to escape from, you realize. You want to be here. You want him to fuck you.

As the reality of your situation starts to settle, his grip around your wrists tightens once again. You sense him reaching up somewhere above you, and you suddenly feel the harsh texture of what feels like thickly braided rope wrapping around your wrists. The realization that he's restraining you sends another pool of release into your panties, another faint squeak past your lips.

"You gonna stay still for me?" he asks, voice dark and clearer now in the silence of his garage, no sounds of rain or cars to disrupt you, "Huh? You gonna be a good girl?"

"Yes," you breathe, nodding against the wood.

"Say it."

"I'm gonna stay still," you promise, "I'm gonna be a good girl."

He finishes knotting the rope around your wrists, tight and uncomfortable against your skin. He pushes his groin up against your ass again, brings his now free hands downward to reach through your cardigan and squeeze your breasts. Your nipples are hard beneath the soft cotton of your shirt, no bra between the layer of material and your bare skin; he tweaks them in his fingers and you shudder.

"These are mine," he whispers in your ear, scruff nuzzling against the side of your face, "These tits, this ass," he drops his hands from your breasts to squeeze your cheeks again, "and this pussy." His hand drops to the puffy shape of your lips beneath your thong and you whimper. "Understand?"

"Y-yes."

"Yes, what?"

You're not sure what he's asking for, what he wants you to say. You take a guess. "Yes, sir," you whisper, and you feel him smile against your ear. Bingo.

He doesn't bother to pull your tights down the rest of the way; instead, he rips them, pulling them apart in his big hands and reaching inside to curl his index finger around the thin strip of your thong. He pulls it - hard - and it rips from you with a rough tearing sound and a painful sting, eliciting a loud gasp from you which he rewards with another spank.

You feel his finger slip between your lips for a moment, gathering some of your release before he pulls it away. "Juicy fuckin' pussy," he mutters, and you hear the sound of his zipper coming undone, vulgar in the quiet room. You have no time to ask about protection, no time to even really process how quickly this is already happening, before you feel the warm tip of his cock pushing against your twitching hole. You gasp again, hands furling under the ropes.

"Shh," he quiets you, stilling for a second, "Don't squirm."

"Sorry," you whisper, tears pricking in your eyes, "I'm sorry."

"What're you sorry for?" he murmurs, feeding his cock to you in small increments, reveling in the noises falling past your lips. It's so fucking big, bigger than you'd anticipated - it feels like he's spearing you, splitting you in half, especially without much preparation. It stretches and burns, but the warmth of it, the way it pulses as it invades your body, just makes you gush even more. "Hm?" he continues, "What're you sorry for? You sorry for squirmin' or sorry you pissed me off?"

Your eyes roll back as he bottoms out, his pubic hair pressing coarsely against your pussy lips, heavy balls firm to your ass. You try to speak but it's hard to get the words out when you're so full, the wide tip of him pushing into your cervix.

"You a virgin?" he asks you then, voice changing for a moment, like for the briefest of seconds he's wondering whether he should have gone slower.

You shake your head quickly, "N-no," you manage to gasp out.

"Feel like a fuckin' virgin," he grunts, pulling out and then immediately slamming back inside. Your head bumps against the work bench, a groan falling from your mouth as he makes a home inside you. "Christ," he mutters, "Tight little thing. You feel me in your stomach, baby?"

You're not sure he wants you to answer, but it becomes clear when his hand slaps down on your ass cheek again and you cry out.

"Yes," you moan, then quickly amend, "Yes, sir."

"S'what happens when you come in here, actin' like a little slut," he suddenly reaches for your cardigan and yanks it off - it catches on your restrained hands and he simply rips it and tosses it to the floor, "But then again, you're not actin', are you? Huh? What's a slut like you doin' wearin' all these fuckin' layers?"

"I'm s-sorry," you repeat, already mourning the loss of your favorite sweater, now ripped to shreds at your feet.

"Sorry's not good enough, little girl," he breathes, thrusting into you again so hard that you yelp, cheek still pressed into the splintered wood of the work bench, "That's it, fuckin' take it."

He fucks you without any reservations, any inhibitions. Your legs shake and you can hear the slap of his hairy thighs against yours as he pounds into you relentlessly. You have no choice but to take it, the stretch of his huge cock becoming less painful the more he gives it to you over and over, the room full of the wet squelch of your pussy gripping him. He grabs your hips, fingertips digging into your bare flesh as he takes and takes; you wish you could see his face, wish you could see how he looks when he's fucking you, getting his pleasure. The thought makes you whine, tears streaming down your face as your body moves back and forth against the work bench.

It feels fucking amazing. You've never had a cock as big as his before, never been fucked so deep and so hard, like he doesn't care if he breaks you, makes you cry. He hasn't touched your clit and yet you already feel you could come from just this, just the relentless push and pull of his dick inside you. Unfortunately, just as soon as you feel your orgasm starting to build, he pulls out. Your brow furrows.

"Stand up," he orders, "and turn around."

You obey, relief overtaking you as soon as you're no longer bent at such an awkward angle. The moment you turn to face him you barely get a look at his face before he's reaching down and tearing your shirt in half - easily, like it's nothing. You don't even have time to wonder how the hell you're gonna get home with all your clothes ripped to shreds when his mouth is suddenly wrapped around your left nipple, and you whine at the sensation. You peer down at him, biting your lip and watching his wet lips suckle around the hard bud, beard scratching deliciously against your skin. Your hand aches to cup the back of his head but it's still pinned behind your back, tied tight beneath the rope.

"Fuck," you whimper, and his dark gaze flashes up to meet yours as he sucks, the hint of a smirk on his lips when he pulls away.

"Feels good, does it?" he asks, and seeing the words come out of his mouth is somehow more sinful than when you could only hear them, "You like bein' used?"

You nod almost immediately despite never having experienced anything like this in your life - though admittedly you've undeniably wanted to experience this, ached to have somebody take control, tell you what to do, make you do things. It's like you've somehow known subconsciously all summer that Joel Miller could be that person for you, despite never having said two words to him. It was just a feeling, an instinct, and that dream...

"Yeah?" he continues, and suddenly his hand comes up to cup your pussy, thumb finally pressing against your clit. You cry out, tears still trickling down your cheeks. "Said you were in college, right? You take any college dick up here? Be honest now."

You nod again, "Y-yes."

"How many?"

"I... I don't know," you breathe. It's the truth, and you can tell as soon as the words leave your mouth that it does something to him. He presses his thumb harder against your clit, two fingers slipping up inside of you.

"'Course you don't know," he murmurs, pushing them as deep inside as he can, making you whimper, "You wouldn't know, would you?"

Your thighs tighten together - squeezing his hand - and he just smirks again, curving his fingers and making you moan. Your lower back digs into the work bench as he stands, pushes you up against it and peers down into your eyes again with a hunger that's only getting worse. You assess his expression, the pout of his lips as he fucks you with his fingers, the focused lines creased into his forehead. So fucking handsome.

"You're not a good girl," he breathes, nose brushing yours, "Knew it from the day I saw you. You're just made for takin' cock. Am I right?"

"Yes," you whisper, nodding shakily and bumping your lips up toward his - he pulls away again and you can't help but feel disappointed, aching to feel his lips against yours.

"Tonight you're made to take my cock, that clear?" he continues, and you watch as his other hand travels downward to wrap around it - just out of your periphery. He's too close to you, crowded so much in your space that you know he won't like it if you break eye contact. You can tell by his arm movements that he's pumping himself at the same speed he's fucking you with his fingers, inhaling deeply, "I'm gonna ruin you, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not."

"Y-yes sir," you whisper, voice squeaking when he speeds up his fingers and pumps them in and out with fervor, thumb rubbing furiously against your clit. Yet again he brings you almost to the edge and then removes his hand completely, stepping back with a low chuckle when you whimper pathetically.

Your disappointment only lasts a moment because now you can see him, see the girthy length of him that's already been inside of you hanging out of his zipper, glistening with your slick. He's huge, tip dark and intrusive, beads of his own arousal dripping from the slit; your mouth waters. His eyes cast down to where you're looking and he smiles, dark and mocking.

"Never gonna see another dick like this, darlin'," he breathes, "So you better start showin' your appreciation." His eyes glint. "Kneel."

You're practically already on your way to kneeling before he says it, in awe of the sheer girth and shape of him. The second your bare knees hit the cold floor he's crowding you again, hand coming around to hold the back of your head.

"Open wide, baby," he murmurs.

Your jaw drops and he plunges inside your mouth quickly and seamlessly, making you gasp around his length as your eyes widen. You can't breathe, looking up at him with more tears already fogging your vision as he immediately slips into the depths of your throat with no hesitation. You gag, eyes bulging as you attempt to swallow around the intrusion, find your breath, but it's impossible.

"Yeah," he breathes, both of his hands cradling your face and holding you still as he lets his cock sit unmoving in your throat, "Yeah, that's it. That's what you're made for."

He only holds it there for a few seconds but by the time he pulls it out you're gasping for air, coughing and spluttering as tears stream relentlessly down your cheeks. He keeps cradling your face, tuts to himself as you try to get your breath back. The head of his cock bumps softly against your bottom lip.

"Not off to a great start, are we?" he murmurs, "Let's try again."

He pushes his cock past your lips again and you try your hardest not to gag, a little more prepared this time. The pulsing head of his cock situates itself firmly in your throat, the pubic hair at the base tickling your nose while his balls bounce against your chin. You look up at him with pleading eyes, watch as he stares down at you with nothing but malice in his expression, contempt. You're just a hole to him, nothing more.

He pulls out and lets you gasp another breath before he's shoving himself back in, hands moving back to hold your head firmly as he fucks your face. You don't move - you don't need to; he does all the work as he drags your head back and forth along his cock, hitting the back of your throat over and over again until you're gagging and practically sobbing for air. Your knees ache against the concrete floor and you know you'll have bruises tomorrow, know that you probably won't be able to swallow properly for a few days either. Somehow, you don't really care.

When he's gotten his fill he yanks himself out and allows you to catch your breath for a few seconds, throat constricting around nothing while you choke and gasp.

"Stand up," he orders, and even though you're still gasping for air you manage to bring yourself back up, legs shaking. Saliva drips down your chin, drooling from your mouth in long strands, but with your hands tied you can't make any attempt to clean yourself up - he probably wouldn't want you to anyway.

His wide palms are suddenly on your hips, and he picks you up and places you on top of the work bench with minimal effort, arms bulging. You're completely naked now save for your ripped tights while he's still fully clothed, dripping cock still peeking out past his zipper, covered in your saliva. He steps between your legs and pushes your thighs open, then slips inside of you once again in one short push, making you yelp.

"Oh, please," he grumbles, gripping your hips tightly and pulling your bare body taut against him, head hitting his chest, "We both know you can take it."

It's not like you have any other choice at this point. He fucks you harder than he had before, now that he has easier access, can pull you so firmly against him that his entire length is continuously swallowed up entirely by your dripping pussy. His nails dig into your skin as his cock fucks up against your cervix over and over, so relentless it's almost painful. It's overwhelming how huge he is, not just his cock but his body in general, the way he towers over you and watches your expressions as he takes what's now his.

"Poor little thing," he mumbles, bringing one of his hands up to thumb the tears on your face, "Never been so full, huh? It's okay, shhh," his finger finds your lips and pushes against them almost mockingly, like he's chastising you, "Shhh, this is what you asked for, remember? S'what you wanted." You shake your head but he just nods, "Yeah, it is. You wanted that cock and now you're gettin' it."

Suddenly you're being lifted from the workbench, carried in his embrace with his cock still buried deep inside. You cry out, wrists straining against the ropes, itching to wrap your arms around his neck and hold yourself up with more stability. His arms come up to stretch along the expanse of your back, holding you still and pulling you even closer. As if on instinct your legs bend upwards to wrap around his waist, curling around his lower back while he pistons inside of you without restraint, without mercy.

"Fuck," you almost scream, feeling the rough denim of his jeans scratching against your ass, the heaviness of his balls slapping against you over and over again, "Fuckfuckfuck!"

"Yeah, there she is, there's that little slut," he says, a smile spreading across his face, voice somehow calm despite the fact that he's pounding into you over and over, "Nothin' like gettin' fucked stupid to sort ya out, huh? Needed to be punished, didn't you, sweetheart?"

You don't answer, can't answer, eyes rolling back as he fucks you with abandon. Of course it's not a surprise when he lands a hard spank against your ass, grips your cheek tightly in his palm and growls roughly in your ear, "Answer me, little girl."

"Yes," you force yourself to gasp out, head tilting back, "Yes sir, yes."

"S'right," he mutters, and you suddenly feel the pads of his fingers against your clit, rubbing at an aggressively fast pace that sends depraved noises spitting past your lips, "Come on that cock, tighten up that little pussy even more for me, baby, come on."

It only takes seconds for him to make you come, your eyes rolling back as your body shakes and writhes in his grasp. He doesn't slow his movements, keeps fucking you deep and hard as your legs loosen at his waist and you flop like a ragdoll in his arms.

"Chokin' that dick," he murmurs, "Had so many cocks in this little hole and you're still the tightest thing I've fucked," his brow furrows as he watches your face, watches as your eyes flutter open and your jaw slackens, "And what about your other hole, baby?" You feel one of his fingers prod against your asshole, circle the rim as he continues to bounce you up and down, "Ever had a cock in there?"

You tense up a little in his embrace, eyes widening. At your reaction he slows his movements, still holding you upright and allowing you to just sit on his cock for a moment while he continues to prod your asshole, "I'll take that as a no," he mutters, "Think my cock'll fit up there?"

"It won't," you whisper immediately, shaking your head.

He assesses your expression, eyes trailing up and down your face calculatingly, like he's weighing the pros and cons. Your heart stutters in your chest and you feel that fear from earlier slowly begin to creep back into your psyche, hands shaking under the rope.

"I won't," he states, and relief floods through your body; you relax in his embrace, becoming aware again of his cock still buried deep inside you. He very carefully prods the tip of his index finger inside your asshole and your eyes go wide again, mouth opening in protest. "Yet," he amends, smiling coldly at you, "I won't yet. Not today."

He pulls his finger out and walks with you to the work bench again, places you down gentler than before and peers at you with something in his gaze that you can't place, a curiosity that wasn't there before. It's gone in an instant though, and then he's fucking into you again without warning, gripping tight to your hips and slamming back and forth until you see stars.

"You thought this'd be so funny, didn't you?" he growls, looking at you again with that detached contempt, black eyes locked with yours. He brings his hand down and starts rubbing your clit again, not caring that you only just came a moment ago. "Thought you'd come here, have your fun, and leave again. But it's not so funny anymore, is it? Huh? Is it funny?"

"N-no," you gasp out, overstimulated to the point of even more tears as you squirm and writhe on the work bench, pussy aching from the insistent way he's pounding you and the relentless rubbing of his fingers against your clit.

"S'the last time you show up here tellin' lies," he mutters, "Understand me? Any time you come into my house from now on you're gettin' fucked, got it?"

"Y-yes," you cry, hands futilely attempting to ball into fists behind your back, and he shakes his head.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir!" you scream it, and just as the words pass your lips he stills inside of you, cock twitching as he starts to come. Your eyes go wide, mouth dropping open as his hand sends you into another climax just as he reaches his. Your head falls against his chest and you hear him groan above you, feel the way his cock pulsates and throbs and spits his cum in long and heavy spurts. Your thighs twitch and you feel his hand at your back, pulling you in close as he cups the back of your head.

You stay like that for a moment without speaking, your heavy breaths the only sound in the garage other than the rain now pelting heavily against the door. You swear you can hear his heartbeat.

"Good little girl, warmin' my cock," he murmurs in your ear, and you're still catching your breath, eyes closed, sobs wracking from your throat repeatedly. "Full o'me, huh? You feel all that, baby?"

You can only nod against his chest, wrists still straining against the rope as your toes curl somewhere below you and your body continues to shake. His cum settles warmly deep inside and your eyes roll back a bit when he pushes in further, like he's trying to keep it inside for as long as he can.

"Guess I found a new little cum dumpster, huh?" he whispers, carding his fingers through your hair, "I'll have to say thank you to your friends, or -" he pauses thoughtfully for a moment, "maybe I'll just have to send 'em a little message back with you."

You pull your face back from his chest, peering up at him with tired confusion. He reaches down and pulls out one of the drawers of the work bench, coming back up with a sharpie. You watch with fluttering lashes, unable to stop him - and not really wanting to - as he uncaps the marker and pushes your hair out of the way to write something across your chest, the cold tip making you jolt slightly.

"Shh," he murmurs, "It's okay, I'll untie ya in a sec."

It doesn't take him very long to finish writing whatever it is on your skin, and then he's slowly pulling his cock out of you. You whimper at the loss, thighs twitching as you peer down and watch his softening length slip past your hole, followed by a steady stream of his cum. He quickly reaches up and pushes what he can back inside, thumbing it back in carefully while the reality of what's just happened really begins to settle. You just let a man in his fifties tie you up, use you, come inside you, and write on your chest.

"Can't have all that slippin' out yet," he mutters, "Now, what can we use?" His eyes dart up to the shelves above you and he reaches up to grab something; when his hand comes back down you see the pocket flashlight from earlier, see the slightly flared base and know almost immediately what he's planning on using it for.

For some reason - whatever reason it is that you stayed here after he gave you an out, whatever reason you really came here in the first place - you don't protest.

He brings the flashlight downwards and quickly removes his hand from your pussy to replace it with the wide end, slipping it inside with only minimal resistance. You whimper and he hushes you, brushing his nose against yours as he assesses his handiwork.

"That should do it," he murmurs, then peers back up at you and pushes some stray hair out of your face "You keep that in there 'til you get home, okay?" His eyes have softened a bit, looking more similar to the way they did when you first showed up - is this the real him? You honestly have no idea.

You don't say anything, just nod slowly, feeling the anxiety from earlier begin to sink in yet again. How are you going to get home when you have no clothes? How are you going to explain to your friends what happened? How can you tell them - or show them - what you let him do to you?

These questions are clearly none of his concern. You watch as he backs up and gestures for you to stand with him; you do, with beyond shaky legs and the cold metal of the flashlight between your thighs.

"Turn around," he orders.

You feel him untie the rope from your wrists, essentially ending your time here - whatever it even was. It somehow doesn't feel real. You let them hang limply at your sides, feeling embarrassment flood your cheeks as you turn back around to look at him. He's watching you with a smirk, arms crossed - his dick is back in his jeans. He looks no different than he had when you arrived.

"Now get the fuck out," he says, dark eyes glinting once again under the flickering fluorescents, "before I change my mind."

The air is still chilly. The road is still wet. But thankfully, there are no cars.

You don't know how you manage to get home without anyone seeing you - hunched over, naked in the darkness, avoiding the streetlights, trying to ignore the ache between your legs and the icy intrusiveness of the flashlight still lodged inside of you - but you do. Your palms are sweaty again, heart pounding at the thought of your friends coming to greet you at the door, for the shock and confusion and screaming to begin - but that doesn't happen.

The moment you're back in the house you pull a jacket down from the coat rack and cover yourself, tiptoeing past the living room and waiting to be accosted by the friends who put you in this situation to begin with. Instead, they're nowhere to be seen. You hear the faint echo of laughter from the kitchen, hear the sounds of glass clattering and a fridge being shut. It's like they've already forgotten you even left, like the game meant nothing, and they've already found something new to entertain them, something better.

As if your futile attempt at getting a kiss on the cheek from Joel Miller is already something lost in the past.

And, you think, as you shakily climb the stairs and creep into the bathroom, tear the jacket from your shoulders and stare at your bare chest in the bathroom mirror, see the dark permanent lines that read TRUTH OR DARE...

Maybe that's how it should be.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #*

4K notes · View notes

solarwoniii · 9 months

Text

꒰ PULCHRITUDINOUS ! ꒱ -- yang jungwon - ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

(dividers from here and here!)

✿ wc; 0.9k

✿ pairing; devil ! jungwon x fem ! angel ! reader

✿ genre; smut. absolute FILTH minors do not interact

✿ contains; supernatural themes (devil won angel reader), won is v teasing but soft dom, reader is extremely subby, pet names (angel, darling, kitten, ect.), sir kink, dumbification, degradation, dacryphilia, A LOT of corruption kink (reader is vv innocent) praise, squirting, creampie, slight breeding kink.

"that's it angel. you always do so well for me." jungwon's delicate, sadistic voice made your ears ring as you looked up at him. a sweet hiss pushing through his fangs as his length pushed painfully into you, inch-by-inch until you were filled to the hilt.

you couldn't believe it. you were making a deal with the devil.

"w-wonnie, i-"

"sir."

you gulped, as his fingers ran through your hair, "sir." you corrected yourself, biting your bottom lip as he slowly slid himself out of you, before thrusting back in again.

"tell me, kitten."

you whined as he leaned in, teeth closing around your earlobe as he gently bit down on it, "i-i just..." you squeezed your eyes shut, tears pricking at them from the stretch when he continued to move in and out of you, as you gripped onto his shoulder, "s-someone's gonna find us..!"

"will they?" he smiled at you, "well. that's too bad for you, darling."

"h-huh?" you blinked, "for me..? what about you?"

jungwon chuckled at you.

"oh, you're adorable, angel. do i really need to spell it out for you?" he said, before whispering into your ear, "everyone already knows me. a big, mean, scary monster, with the tendency to ruin pretty little things like you." he smirked, poking the end of your nose with his fingertip as he said the last word, "but you... you're just that. a pretty little thing. you've built yourself quite the reputation, haven't you? y/n l/n... a sugary-sweet, innocent, intelligent, pulchritudinous girl. what would someone think if they walked in and saw this perfect girl getting ruined all over devil cock like this?"

you let out a broken moan as he picked up the pace, tears racing down your cheeks. he cooed at you, "awh, don't cry kitten. it'll all be our little secret, hmm? i promise i won't tell a soul about how dirty you really are." his eyes flashed a bright shade of yellow as he leaned down to kiss your chest, finding your hardened nipple with his mouth and swirling his tongue around it before biting down on the sensitive bud. he fed off of the pleasureful whine he got out of you from it, "so sensitive. pretty baby's only this dumb and pathetic for me, aren't you?"

tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded your head desperately. it was as if he sent you into another dimension as he filled you up with such graceful impurity.

he was right. only you were truly at risk here. if anyone walked in on this, your entire reputation would be destroyed.

but you were too far gone to be worried about that, as your third orgasm of the night began to build up in your stomach. your fingers held tightly onto the sleeve of his leather jacket. jungwon smirked, his tongue protruding through his cheek as his sharp fangs reflected the moonlight from the window outside the window.

"gonna cum?" he asked you, his voice shaky and whispery as he leaned into your ear, asking you the vile and disgusting question without missing a beat.

your breath hitched in your throat, unable to respond to him other than with a long, whimpery string of moans, a tiny little 'yes sir' knotted to the end, which you only managed to cry out after much struggling.

he laughed darkly, licking a stripe up along the side of your ear as he gripped tightly onto your hips with his sharp claws, lifting you to a degree and pulling you onto his shaft as he met your hips halfway, "good. i'm gonna fill you up so good, yeah? you want that?"

you gasped and shuddered at this new angle, the tears now rolling down your cheeks as fast as raindrops on a window pane in a heavy rainstorm. you could feel so much more now, the way his bulbous head rubbed against your cervix when the base of his length reached the end made you feel foggy in the head, as you only nodded your head vigorously, "y-yes sir! please w-want you..!" you babbled drunkenly, intoxicated by his devilish intrusion.

jungwon smirked at your tearful desperation, "how dirty of you..." he whispered teasingly, "you want my devil babies in your pretty little angel pussy? hm?"

you weren't even really sure of the extent of what he was saying anymore, only gasp and nodding your head, feeling your opening clamp tightly down onto him, the stretch now even more satisfying as you felt your eyes roll back, your body arching off of the desk. "m' g-gonna..!"

he chuckled beneath his breath as he watched the knot snap before him, your entire body shaking as you gushed around him, making a real mess of the classroom desk, your words breaking into torn and fragmented moans and whimpers. you could feel your heartbeat thundering through your body, thighs dripping with essence as you gasped for air, eyelids heavy as he continued to chase his high, connecting his lips to yours in a messy kiss.

he let out a soft groan against your lips as he stilled his movements, his warm, pearlescent release filling you to the hilt as your eyelashes fluttered and your breath began to slow to a more fluid pace.

the both of you took a moment to calm down, before you opened your mouth to say something, but jungwon only grinned at you, hushing you gently.

"shh... i'll take care of you, sweet angel."

✿ taglist; @hunbun07 @metalchick529 @chewryy @iraa567 @jwchn @bunhoons !

#jungwon #jungwon fluff #jungwon angst #jungwon smut #enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen smut #enhypen angst #enhypen drabbles #yang jungwon #jungwon fic #enhypen fic #yang jungwon smut #enhypen jungwon yang #jungwon yang

1K notes · View notes

theblueflower05 · 1 year

Text

Crawling Back to You

(Part Two of First Love/Late Spring)

A/N: So like, I’m really excited that you guys seem to be digging this story. I was hesitant about it just because there’s so much of my own Na’vi/Metkayina lore thrown in there. Thank you for all of the kind response.

Word Count: 8k+

Warnings: From here on out, this story will be extremely explicit. Minors DNI. If Aged Up! Neteyam isn’t your thing, please exit to your left. Let’s all respect each other's boundaries, please.

Angst. Self deprecation. Alcohol consumption. Smut. Mutual masturbation. Fingering(fem receiving). Nipple sucking. Breeding kink. Scent marking. Public sex(if you squinttttt)

Summary: Neteyam returns from his Motnaui and isn’t in much of a celebratory mood when he realizes that he’s scrapped any chance of having a mate for Fertility season…or has he? Neteyam x Reader

Series Masterlist(all parts can be found here)

Previous< First Love/Late Spring

Next>: Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea

Secret's that I’ve held in my heart

Are harder to hide then I thought.

Maybe I just wanna be yours- Artic Monkeys

The brilliant Pandoran sun beats down on the crystal blue waters, fragmenting into bursts of light under the surface of the waves.

The Motnaui is intense, Neteyam’s lean frame isn't made for the open ocean but over the months as he trained intensely with the Metkayina hunters, he gained muscle he didn't even realize his body could retain.

His shoulders are broader and thighs thicker. He can keep up with the clan, he can help row the boats without his arms giving out on him.

Neteyam hasn't felt this way since they had fled the safety of the forest. He’s useful again. He’s worked hard to regain his title of Hunter.

Warrior.

Brother of the people.

He sense’s it as they jump between the endless maze of isles. Hunting and sleeping on the beaches under the open night sky. Swapping stories around the small campfires.

They don't see him as an outsider anymore. No, he is Metkayina. All of the hunters treat him as such. Clapping his back. Embracing him tight. Sharing in the whopping joy as he makes a clean, merciful kill.

They listen to the Omaticayan legends he tells the and fill him in on the lore of the sea.

The four days out at open ocean are needed and he feels sure footed now. Knows that he will always have a place in Awa’atlu. He can't wait for Lo’ak to complete his Iknamaya next cycle, to get to feel this feeling of deep belonging. Of acceptance.

The tattoo forever etched into the the skin on his on his shoulder burns. Throbs all the way down his elbow, ends right above his wrist. The permanent swirling ink a symbol of his place among the reef.

His third birth is as beautiful as his second. He is a man, twice recognized.

Neteyam reminds himself of that fact as he sits down next to Tonowari one night. The stars are sparkling and the dimming light of the dying fire makes the hulking chief look larger than life.

Still, the younger man gathers his courage.

“I wish to mate with Y/N” Neteyam states firmly. He had been Olo’eyktan in training for over a decade back in the forest. He uses the voice he’d take on when speaking of important matters “I would like your blessing to do so, sir”

Their brothers and sisters in the hunt surround them. Either asleep at the late hour or lost to their own conversations.

Or maybe they just know not to interrupt this important exchange. They only listen in with peaked ears and envious hearts.

Tonowari’s features go stern, his strong brows pulling together “Before my T’smuke returned to the great mother, I promised her that I would always take care of her daughter as though she was my own. I love Y/N as I do my children. Do you understand that, Neteyam?”

Neteyam is nodding “Yes sir, of course”

“She is a good woman. A very important member of our community, if I allow this courtship I have to be certain that you will honor that. That you will honor her place among us, and be serious about what that means for your own”

Neteyam mules over the words, thinks he knows what they mean. He will be marrying into the royal family of the Metkayina. He will be bound by blood to the clans chief. His future children will have a claim to the title of Olo’eyktan or Tshaik, third in line should anything ever happen.

“I am very serious about her, I will work hard to give her all that she deserves. I will build us a Mauri to raise our family in. I will dedicate my life to her and the tribe” It is not a vow lightly made, Neteyam knows this.

He had never been one to be fickle about responsibility.

It’s only when the intense expression on the Olo’eyktans face shifts, a broad smile stretching across his mouth, that Neteyam feels his posture untense.

Tonowari claps him hard on the back and offers him the leather flask of strong liquor that the hunters pass amongst themselves-

“Then you have my blessing” Tonowari laughs as the younger Na’vi man almost chokes on the burn of the Kava.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

When they return to the main island of Awa’atlu with their abundant catch they are greeted warmly by the clan. The giant horns are blown, drums play rhythmically. Children scream joyously and women dance scantly clad in ceremonial drab.

Its busy and blustering but there's only one thing on Neteyam's mind.

Only one person.

The same woman who had plagued him since his arrival all those months ago. You’re as elusive as the receding tide and he had become accustomed to having to look for you. To having to seek you out in a crowd, to go searching for you.

You hadn't seen him off and he hasn't spoken to you in many days. He misses you. It's an ache that he wants to soon remedy, that he knows he’ll never have to feel again. Not with Tonowari’s blessing fueling him.

Since he was young, Neteyam had wanted to be bonded.

He’d dreamt of sharing that special connection with another individual; the way that his parents did. He craved someone to cherish him, to take care of him and in return he’d do the same for them. He itched for a woman to braid his hair, to bear his children. To bury his cock in every night and wake up to every morning.

He was a simple man with a big heart and a lot of love to give. And he wanted to give it to you.

He just has to find you first.

Neteyam tries not to worry when he can't catch sight of your petite frame. Not one peek of your long hair or seafoam eyes. He couldn't scent the natural perfume of florally herbs that always seemed to surround you-

“Neteyam!” It’s Tuk.

She collides with him hard. Many years of being a climbing post for his siblings is the only reason he doesn't topple over. Is able to catch her mid air and hold her to his chest.

He’s greeted by his family-

And only a moment passes before he can notice that something is wrong.

It’s written all over Kiri’s face. In his mothers expressive eyes and the glances his father throws him as he embraces the Olo’eyktan from across the way. Even Lo’ak gives him something akin to a small glare.

“Whatever is going on, it will have to wait” Neteyam decides out loud, slowly lowering his baby sister to the ground. “I need to find Y/N, have any of you seen her?”

Kiri’s mouth opens and shuts, as though she’s trying to figure out what to say and it frays his nerves. His legs are antsy, burning with the need to run. To seek you out- still on the high of the hunt.

“I don't have time for this-”

“Brother, wait. It is about Y/N” Kiri grabs his elbow, keeping him still.

He doesn't like her tone.

Likes the expression on her face even less. She looks too serious, it doesn't suit her at all. Kiri had always been as airy as a tree sprite- carefree and bubbly.

Call it a gut feeling or the simple ability to read the room. He just knows whatever she’s about to tell him isnt going to be pleasant.

“What happened?”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

His sister pulls him aside, into the mangrove tree’s and away from prying eyes and ears so that she can relay what she’d heard. Fill Neteyam in on what he’s missed.

He listens to every word…and they settle like stones in his stomach.

“Y/N thinks that you have accepted an offer of courtship from another woman”

“I didn't- I’d never!” Neteyam hisses in protest, shaking his head. It’s all one big misunderstanding. He has to make find you, shake these thoughts out of your head. Make you see-

“But you did,” Kiri replies firmly, her mouth pulled into a grim line.

She explains the meaning of the Lei’s.

The gravity of him accepting one from another female and Neteyam hasn't felt so small in many years. He’d been forced into adulthood early. Taken care of his siblings from a young age and then was thrust into the war with the RDA before he had even fully come out of adolescence. He was wise beyond his years, that’s what everyone had always told him.

He doesn’t feel that way now.

He’d fucked up, made a mistake that could very well cost him the future that he had worked so hard to secure since coming to the reefs-

And he hadn't even meant to! He’d been as naive as a baby, as ignorant to Metkayina traditions as an untrained child-

He wants to scream in frustration. Wants to kick the absolute shit out of himself. Instead he listens to his sister, his hands shaking as he balls them into fists.

You had been devastated. Heart broken. Wouldn't talk to anyone or come out to eat. Couldn’t stop crying-

“Enough” He pleads, he can't hear anymore of it. Guilt rises in his chest like bile.

Imagining what the last days had been like for you as he’d spend them having the time of his life, galivanting with other hunters. Getting drunk and having carefree fun-

“Kiri, what do I do?”

She sighs. It’s so rare to see her older brother like this. He’s always so solid. So strong and stable. It’s unnerving when he loses his composure. When his carefully built walls come down

She had known that the whole thing was a miscommunication and had tried along with Tsireya to convince you of that fact. But you wouldn't hear it, and avoided her at every turn.

You and her brother are both such stubborn dumb asses. Rubbing at her temples Kiri prays to Eywa for strength. Sully’s stick together.

“We fix this”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As the evening eclipse starts and the sun disappears in the sherbert sky the beach lights up.

Bonfires roar, their flames tall and burning bright.

The air is filled with the smell of roasting Paokpak(island boar) and fish. Huge pots full of dishes that Neteyam had never seen line the long wooden table set up at the center of the celebration. Barrels of Kava have been brought out. The strongest of Metkayina liquors, brewed and stored for decades in airtight containers. Made from berries that are extremely hard to harvest.

This is a time for celebration, to gorge on the hard earned harvests the hunters have brought back. To celebrate the newly rited adults and prepare for the Fertility Season.

The beat of the drums is hypnotic. It's sexy and primal. It's a tune that all Na’vi know in their chest, one that their hips move to as if of their own accord.

Children play, Women sing, stories older then the briny deep are told. The air is electric; so full of magic and unity.

And yet, Neteyam is on edge.

He had been since his rude awakening earlier in the day. He’d spent his afternoon running around like an Austrapede with its head chopped off. Desperately trying to solve the issues that he hadn't meant to create.

After hunting down the culprit to all of this mess, a pretty lei made up of sunset orange lilies which he’d given to Tuk almost automatically after it’d been given to him, he returns it to its owner.

Seychelle is haughty. Rightly upset and shrilly confused as she takes the token of her affections back. Neteyam’s apology is poor and he knows it, he backs away before she can throw her drink in his face.

Tsireya had told him this was the only way to remedy the issue- to refuse the offer for courtship so that he could be open to be with another. The younger girl had been so relieved when he came to her, begging her to help him win back your affections.

“I knew you are a good man, that you don't have a mean spirit”

Tsireya is as eager as Neteyam to see her cousin happy. She doesn't think she could spend another night listening to your inconsolable weeping.

The last obstacle is the hardest.

You refuse to be anywhere near him. Are forced into the festivities because of your family standing, but pretend that Neteyam simply does not exist.

At every turn you evade him.

Sandwiching yourself between the hulking muscle of Ao’nung and Tonowari at the buffet table. Dancing in an enclosed circle of swaying women. Flitting away in a plume of smoke when he approaches you with your favorite ripe fruit in hand; leaving him standing there stupidly. Palms stained by the juice of the Lionberry as he squeezes it in frustration.

You’re hauntingly beautiful in the firelight.

He hates the fact that he’s not the only who notices it. The way the other males consume you with their carnivorous gazes makes him sick. His fingers clench and his knuckles crack of their own accord.

Long dark hair pours down your back in bouncing waves. The top that you wear clings to you like a second skin; the pearls and seashells glittering in the warm hue of the flames. Your own Lei, pink and pristine, is still resting on your throat. Many intricate bracelets and anklets clink as you walk and he cant take his eyes off of the way that the back of your tweng sits on your pert ass-

“Go talk to her” His dad suggests gruffly as he watches his son watch you. It’s getting hard to stomach at this point, all of that longing palpable and souring the atmosphere.

“She doesn't want to speak to me” Neteyam mutters. Trying not to feel too bad for himself. And failing.

Neteyam hadn't thought his return from Motonui would be like this. He’d envisioned a lot more kissing, and alot less moping.

“Woman aren't as complicated as they seem, son. You don't need some grand gesture-”

“Says the man who tamed Toruk after his first fight with his mate” Neteyam interrupts and Jake snorts at his unusual outburst.

His eldest son is usually so very put together- it's entertaining to see that a woman could bring out this side of him.

“I have nothing to offer her. Back home in the forest I could have given her- everything” Neteyam sighs as he admits what's been on his mind since he’d begun pursuing you “There’s no reason why she’d want to be with me, I’m aware of that”

Jake pulls his son close.

His first born. The apple of his eye. Neteyam was good to his core, and anyone who knew him could see it. Jake was so proud of him and wondered if this lack of self confidence came from the fact that he probably didn’t tell the boy of that fact enough.

“All that girl wants from you is reassurance. That’s all you need to give her, everything else will come with time. If she wanted to mate for status she would’ve done it long before you got here, kid. ”

Jake had been shitty at motivational speeches since his stint in the military. You would think his time as reigning Olo’eyktan would have given him some kind of skills. But still, his words are a bit clunky. But sincere.

After a moment, Neteyam gulps at the Kava in his hand. Drains his cup and then squares his shoulders before he’s off.

Eyes set unyieldingly on the prize.

Jake grins. If a good ol’ pep talk doesn't do it- liquid courage sure will.

You’re half heartedly participating in the conversations going on around you, just distracted enough that Neteyam’s able to stalk over. Unnoticed until he’s standing right infront of you-

“Y/N” His voice is firm, he wonders if you know how hard it is for him to keep it as such. “I see you”

Up close he can see how swollen your eyes are. How exhausted you look. You just nod, muttering out a quiet “I see you” in response.

Everything about your body language screams that you want to be left alone. Your arms are crossed over your chest, your ears tipped low. Your tail curls around your ankle and your nose keeps scrunching up.

He wishes he could let you be,

But you make him selfish. You bring out a side of him that wants to take. Has to be satiated or he’s going to lose his fucking mind.

“I must speak with you” He states his intentions, clear. Ignores the way Ronal glares daggers at the side of his head.

“I don’t think-”

“It will only take a moment. But I ask for the privacy to explain myself to you. If after you hear my words you still do not wish to talk to me I will respect that”

You glance at your family before responding to him. Sharing a look with both Ronal and Tsireya. Your cousin smiles encouragingly, your aunt gives a barley tolerant tilt of her head.

You sigh and nod, but step away from his hand when he offers it to you. It's an obvious rejection, but Neteyam tries not to dwell on it. His tail flicks anxiously behind him.

“We may speak in private. Come” your voice is low, before you begin to lead him away from the festivities. Down the beach until the firelight is in the distance and the beat of the drum is a low hum on the howling wind.

The storms will start soon. The sea is choppy, the clouds rolling in and the breeze cool.

It’s hard to find privacy on the sandy shores, intertwined couples can be found scattered along the waters edge. Lips locked. Speaking lowly and intimately.

Neteyam is pretty sure that one of his fellow hunters has his mate twisted into a mating press- if her breathless whimpers are anything to go by.

He avoids their writhing bodies, ignores the way it makes his own core tingle.

Fertility Season is all but here. The entire clan falling under its low boiling energy.

All he could think about as he had been out on the open ocean; is that this cycle he wouldn't have to spend it alone.

He’s not sure that is the case anymore.

After more walking, completely in silence, the two of you come to a mostly desolate area. Quiet and still, as private as it’s going to get.

You stare out at the cresting waves and Neteyam knows he needs to say something, anything. But all he can to is look at you.

At the way that the moonlight illuminates your silhouette, at the dusting of turquoise bioluminescent freckles that are scattered across your nose.

“I-Um-” You start, and that wont do. He cuts you off quick.

It is only him who needs to explain himself. “Let me start by apologizing to you. I am so sorry, Y/N”

You appear as though you’re going to start crying and if you do, he’ll lose all his carefully cultivated cool.

So he presses on.

“I had no idea that accepting Lei’s was a courting symbol here. I don't know how to make you believe me but if I had know I would’ve never-” Neteyam lets out a long shaky breath “I can only swear to you that in the future I will be more mindful of your clans traditions”

Time ticks by. The moon shines and the waves crash against the shore.

“Our clan” you break the silence, your voice gentle and melodic. “You passed your Iknimaya. It is your clan as much as mine”

He wants so desperately to hold you. He has for months, but the need is almost unbearable at this very moment.

“If I have lost my chance. Please, tell me now” it’s a plea. Because it hurts to look at you. If he can not have you- if you do not want him, he will accept it. Somehow. But being alone with you like this and not knowing is killing him. “I will…I’ll leave you alone, if you want me to”

You scoff, not looking away from him. Refusing to meet his eye, still staring blanky at the waves. “You act as though I am the one who accepted someone else’s offer. I have never wanted you to leave me alone, Neteyam”

“I’m sorry” Does he sound as idiotic as he feels? He surely hopes not.

“You already said that”

“Please, look at me”

“I can’t” you whisper- hissing at him warningly when he outstretches his hands “I- I don't want to ever feel like this again. You need to tell me what you want from me because I do not know. I will get confused again, if you do not tell me what we are doing”

He can tell by your expression that you are serious, and even so. He cant fucking believe it. Had he failed at courtship so immensely that you really don't know? He’s stuck in his head for a moment too long.

It makes you anxious, makes you back even further away.

“Please-” He’s all but begging, yet

you avoid his touch again and it feels like blades.

Your shrill warning hiss rings in his ears.

He returns it with a snarl of his own when you continue to refuse to let him touch you. Can't help it, the need to rebuff all of this uncertainty around the union that is so special to him is strong.

He grips the top of your arms, his long fingers holding your biceps.

You finally look at him. Your round eyes wide and vulnerable. Filled with unshed tears and unspoken questions.

“I want to mate with you” He starts because if you need to hear it all, word for word, then he’d tell you. “I want to build my life here with you by my side. I want us to have a home that will never know war-”

A tear rolls down the swell of your cheek.

“I-I want you to choose to be with me” He swallows, the lump in his throat getting bigger, higher. Threatening to choke his vocal cords “I will be good to you. If you let me”

His family had always required him to be the rock. Had leaned on him to take on the role of caretaker, he had had to keep it together. Keep them together. It wasn't easy for him to break open like this. It went against his very nature, all that self preservation he’d learned early.

But you need this. And he thinks he might too.

“Neteyam-”

“I will ask you again. If I have lost my chance tell me now”

Have mercy on him.

“I understand if you want to be with someone who can offer you more. I won’t fault you for it” he doesn’t know why he feels the need to tack that on. Why the self deprecating thoughts manifest their way into words that hurt for him to speak “I don’t have much here. But I’ll build it, for you”

Your muscles tense under his palms and he prepares himself for the rejection. The physical blow of it-

But then, you melt. Loosen. Your entire body sags fully into his grip. That pinched expression on your face slips away. Your full lips part and your eyes soften, brows furrowing together.

You look at him like he is something precious. Like you can see him- and he thinks you might be the first one who ever has.

He’d known it in his bones. Since the day he’d arrived. Since he’d first spotted your face in the crowd.

“Oel ngati kameie” you whisper, your hand coming up to cup his jaw. “Oel ngati kamei, Neteyam. I see-”

He leans heavily into your hand. His forehead clunking against yours, pressing hard. The contact stings, but its welcome. He needs it.

He needs.

“I don’t care about any of that. I don’t care what you have or don’t have. You know I don’t.” you murmur urgently, he can feel the words against against his skin.

When you press a whisper light, tentative kiss against the sharp of his cheekbone, something snaps. Something that had been strained and barely held together just breaks.

His control, he realizes as he crowds you.

As his fingers dig into your arms and he presses the line of his body against your own firmly.

You’re so soft everywhere. So much smaller than him. He’s all lean muscle, tall and hard. You’re pliable skin, a layer of blubber to keep you warm in the deep. So different from the women he’d grown up with. Your hips are wide, thighs pillowy.

You’d give him healthy children. His hindbrain howls.

When he captures your lips he hopes you realize that there’s no going back. That this is until death. He’d go to his grave before he was robbed of this again.

You gasp, sweet and small, and he eats it. Consumes all of the air in your lungs. You’re good at holding your breath anyway, right?

“Neteyam” you whine, pulling away, your lips wet and your pupils wide. You’re shaky, already a bit disoriented and he wants to keep you. Protect you. He’ll give you anything if you just keep looking at him like that.

“Are you ok-”

You reach up on the tips of your toes, slamming your lips back against his before he can finish his words.

Your hands tangle into his braids as you try to gain traction, pull him down to your level. Get a better hold on him.

Its intense, dizzying. You kiss him like you’re dying and maybe you are. Maybe you’ve been slowly dying since he first got here. Every moment that you hadn’t been able to be held by him had killed you- a slow torturous death.

You drag him down. Do you know he’d follow you anywhere? Under the waves, down onto the soft sand. He cups the back of your head, shelters your neck as he bullies his thin hips between your dense thighs and pressed you against the ground.

The months worth of tension isn't released gently, because it can't be.

The kisses are bruising. Wandering hands and desperate tongues. It’s carnal, Fertility season making both of your minds cloudy as you try to dig into each others flesh.

Nothing is close enough.

With a whine, your fingers slip under Neteyam's multilayered choker. Using it as leverage to tug on as you thrust your hips up violently. The heat at the apex of your legs grinding against his covered erection dangerously.

“Ah-” he gasps wetly “Easy, Narlor. Easy”

“Sorry” you simper, panting. Trying to get a hold on the feelings rushing through you. One hand gripping his necklace, the other slipping into the back of his hair, brushing the nape of his neck “I want- I dream about it all the time”

Fire rushes down Neteyam’s spine, both at your words and your feather light touch to his kuru. He wonders if you touched yourself after those dreams. If you had to take the edge off like he had. He shudders at the thought-

You’re kissing at his neck again, at all of that sensitive skin under his braids, near his ears.

Your quick touches are everywhere. Rushing all over his body. Manicured nails scraping over his skin-

“Ugh,” he warbles out as your curious hand disappears under his tweng.

Its a tight fit as your fingers dance along his hard cock. Delicate and teasingly light. He’s going to come all over himself like some inexperienced teenager that had never gotten a taste of pussy before if you don't. Slow. Down.

“Tell me about those dreams of yours. What’d we do in them?” Neteyam teases, his lips moving against the corner of your mouth. A distraction for both you and himself.

You can't form words, not as you feel how big he is. As you cherish the fact you’ll never be empty again. He's hard and pulsing in your hand and you want him inside of you. Your mouth, your cunt. You don't care. You want to be the only one who gets to feel him, no one else can ever-

There’s only one way to ensure that.

“Tsahelyu” you whimper, “Please Neteyam. Need it”

He slows down a bit, his head spacy but not totally lost. The bond is everything. It’s the most important aspect of Na’vi culture “I can't bond you here”

“Why?” its a petulant whine, your hips pressing against his again.

“I’m not going to bond you on the cold ground, Yawne. Out in the open”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind” you press and he chuckles, shaking his head “you could have me anywhere you want me”

It’s the raw honesty in your voice that drives him crazy.

Devotion in a way that makes him lightheaded.

He can't give you Tsaheylu yet, he wants it done right. He wants you tucked in a mountain of blankets with a warm fire going- at the height of Fertility Season. The ancestors watching over you as he intertwines himself into your soul for the rest of time.

“I will have you” He assures you, dragging his mouth across your clavicle, his long fingers working the strings of your intricate top loose “And you’ll have me. But you have to let me do it right”

You hate waiting. You tell him as he suckles his way across your chest. Moaning as he finally gets his mouth on your soft breasts. Your fist his braids, shivering as he feasts on your skin.

“I’ll make it worth your while” Neteyam promises between mouthfuls of supple flesh “You’ll want for nothing. I’ll give you anything”

He’s humping down into you, unable to stop his hips from shifting. His cock seeking your warmth. You’re right there, he could just-

“Please” you shiver, like you know what he’s thinking. Like you can read his mind and all the dirty thoughts that cross it.

You can't take it. All of his hesitating.

You’d heard that the Omiticayans were more reserved, more traditional when it came to mating but he was going to drive you crazy.

You push on his chest. Gentle yet demanding.

He doesn't want to remove his mouth from your breasts but he allows it all the same. His lips swollen, a thin string of spit connecting him to your tender nipple as he stares at you with questioning eyes.

Neteyam lets you push him off of you before he goes down onto his back, the sand grating against his shoulder blades as he lays flat. You grin the entire time. Your eyes sparkling with excitement. With hunger.

You look as horny as he feels and it kills him.

Your fingers pluck at the at the delicate ties of your tweng, loosening it until it falls from your curvy hips.

“Y/N” he warns as you then reach for his own. Tugging at the leather straps of his loincloth. He raises his hips, helping you shimmy it down his long legs.

“You can't bond me” You whisper as you straddle his waist, your small hands using his broad chest for balance, palms on his pectorals “Not yet anyway”

“Mhmm” Neteyams murmurs as his eyes roll into the back of his head. You're hot and dripping wet, the center of your legs steaming as you rub it against his groin.

“That doesn't mean you cant touch me” you coo at the man under you as you slowly begin to undulate above him. Your hips circling as your head lowers to tongue at the underside of his jaw.

“Shit” He curses in English, gasping at the night sky as you drag damply across his lower stomach .

“Yes?” you question him as you reach for his hand, leading it exactly where you need him most.

“Yeah” Neteyam assures, fingertips dipping where you're skin is plush and dripping- right in between your spread thighs “Yeah, Yeah”

Your hand is still leading his, cupping him firmly against your pussy as he feels how much you need him. You hadn't been the only one dreaming of this. You had danced behind his eyelids for months. His brain had played tricks on him, desperately splicing together mismatched audio in an attempt to conjure up what you would sound like when he finally got to have you.

A shivery keen escapes you when he presses on your swollen bundle of nerves and nah. His imagination couldn't hold a candle to this.

It’s not just how you sound its how you look.

Sat on top of him, resting on your knees with your chest bare save for that brightly hued Lei. Your kiss bruised bottom lip is skewered between your sharp teeth as you worry it in keyed-up concentration. Blue eyes low, your long eyelashes almost fluttering against your cheeks as you stare down at him.

It’s how you smell.

Ripe and earth wet- his mouth floods as he inhales lungfuls of it, your juices are all over him. His waist, coating his hand . Everywhere but right on his tongue where he wants it the most.

Exploring you where you’re the most vulnerable is slippery, your pussy swollen as he traces along the folds. Your clit beats with your pulse under his touch, inflamed and you cry out.

“Awe, baby” he tuts. Your hips chase him in jagged little movements, unsure and needy and it’s enough to get him grinning. You’d been so sure of yourself when you’d pushed him down and climbed on top of him.

Yet here you are a whining mess of his thing in his lap.

There’s no room to tease, he wants to watch you come all over him. Everything still feels too over sensitive. Too new and easily breakable. You’d spent the last near week questioning his feelings.

Neteyam had his words. He could wax to you poetic until your ears bled,

But he had this too. He needed to make you feel a way that no one else could and as he sunk his long digit inside of you he realized that this was better then any conversation. This felt like the most natural way to express all of his emotions, you sucking him in knuckle deep felt so right.

Velvet soft and vice tight, he’s hard between his own legs from just the feel of you. Just knowing that this was his.

You, your heart. Your body. Your tiny little cunt.

Tiny but taking him so well, not just one finger. But two. Then three. Your body moves like the crashing waves behind you, intense and wild. Shoving down onto him so hard that his wrist starts to ache with the demanding press.

“More” you pant wetly into his neck “Faster. Net-please”

He figures out that faster means harder, and harder means he has you all but vibrating on top of him. Bouncing in time with every thrust of his digits. The arm that isn't preoccupied comes around you to hold you steady as he finger fucks you until you're a squealing mess.

This isn't the first time Neteyam has done this.

There’d been girls back home. One girl in particular that didn't take it too personally that he needed tension relief from the war raging around them and not the arranged soon to be wife that everyone had been trying to shove down his throat back them.

This isn't the first time he’s done this but it’s the first time he’s felt this.

He nuzzles your head out from its hiding place in his shoulder. He has to watch your face, needs to see the way he’s making you fall apart.

This is the first time he’s felt the all consuming pull to be with another person. He wants you like this always. So close to him that he could taste the perspiration from your panting breaths.

You tighten up in his arms, going rigid as your pleasure crests. Your pussy fluttering and mouth gaping. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You’re orgasm is ethereal, raw and fervid.

It’s a glance at Eywa. He sees the great mother on your face as you writhe atop of him.

It’s alot, he can tell. Fuck he can only imagine what you’re feeling if it had been this intense for him. Neteyam lets you hide again after a moment. Your hair covers your face as you shake and he thinks you might be crying, but he just brushes a hand down your damp back. Soothing you back down from the high.

The stars are brighter, even as the clouds gather in gluggy gray storm clusters. Everything seems a little bit more beautiful with his fingers still inside of you. It pains him to slide them out, missing the tight clutch of you once his wet fingers are exposed to the cool night air.

Tsaheylu, you’d begged him earlier. His kuru throbs and gooseflesh erupts all over his body just thinking about bonding with you. He wants it more than he’s ever wanted anything.

You nuzzle against him, nosing at his cheek. Your lips ghosting at the corner of his own.

“You okay?” you wonder. Your voice deep and husky. So sexy it makes his eyes close for a second.

“I should be asking you that”

“Mmm, no need to ask. I feel so so good” you assure him, starting to sit up a little “I um-I kind of got really into it. I’m sorry”

“Sorry?” Neteyam questions, keeping his grip on you as you start to squirm. Not in pleasure this time. But in shame, the embarrassed kind. Coming down from the pleasure haze, that anxious edge comes back. Unsure even as you’re on top of him. “Don’t say that. Why would you be sorry right now?”

You huff, nose scrunching. Ears flicking “I made a mess all over you”

It might not be very nice but he can't help but laugh at you. His pearly white canines on display as he hoots, the belly laughs jostling you from your perch.

“What!” you grumble, but smile all the same. “Stop”

“Hmm. I love messes like this. Feel free to make messes like this anytime” his fingers, still glistening come into view as he brings them to his mouth. Your eyes widen, glued to him. At the slight suction of his cheeks as he licks them in earnest “See. Easy clean up, you’ve got nothing to worry about, Pretty”

You taste as good as you smell. His tastebuds tingle as he swirls the new flavor around. Complex; a sweet musk that he wants to bathe in. He’s acutely aware of the way you watch him, your sweet cheeks burning at his lewdness.

When he frees his fingers with a pop, he gasps as your tongue surges in his mouth.

Tasting yourself on his spit.

Fuck.

He lets you kiss him breathless. Lets you run your sloppy kisses all over his face, down his chin. Across his neck. He arches into it all, gives you all the room you need. He’s well aware of what you’re doing. Working your strong scent into every inch of his bare skin.

Scent marking is a vital part of Na’vi courtship. Ancient, ritualistic and respected. Practiced by your ancestors before the first songs.

It’s makes something in him pur, knowing that you want him to smell like you.

“I think that's enough” He grins when your tongue dips into his navel “They can smell me, baby. You did a very thorough job”

The pout on your face is beyond cute as you sit up on your knees. The little ‘hmph’ sound so adorably out of place in the highly sexually charged situation “But I wanna smell like you too. How will anyone know I’m yours if they can’t smell it?”

Neteyam's nostrils flare. His ears swivel on his head and his tail gives a good lash at that. You want to be marked by him too. Are willing to parade his scent around all of those assholes in the clan that have been trying to win your affections, even when it was clear you were uninterested.

“Lay down” It’s an order, spoken softly but directly and you follow it at once. A giddy smile on your face as you lounge on the sand.

You are a vision.

Hair sprawling and messy behind your head. Your legs spread, back arched. Pretty nipples pebbled hard and on display. The only thing covering you is the floral necklace around your svelte throat.

It doesn't take him long at all. He strokes his striped cock firm and efficiently. Too many years of having to get himself off fast enough not to be caught has made his practiced movements almost perfect.

You’re looking at him like that again. Adoration clear as day on your face. Soft for him. You see him-

“Ol Ngati Kamiel” your voice is saccharin as you speak and he grunts violently as he comes.

Ropes of it land on your belly, across your exposed chest. It’s almost too much when you reach down swiping into the translucent, sticky, mess and start rubbing it into your smooth skin. He collapses shakily beside you, needing to collect himself for a minute before he helps your cause.

It’s the most intimate thing the two of you have done all night, laying together. Basking in the afterglow. Your scents mingle, dancing together in the evening breeze and Neteyam wants to imprint this memory somewhere deep.

The festivities are still raging- and you really do need to get back. It’s an important night. Your clan wants you there, the two of you need to make your rounds. Keep appearances. He won’t keep you from your duties, no matter how much he may want to.

After a quick dip in the ocean, removing the filth of love making but still wearing the strong scent of each other's pheromones, you begin to redress.

Neteyam watches. Highly distracted as you shimmy back into your tweng before looping your top around your shoulders. He works clumsily at the leather of his loincloth.

“Wait-”

The two of you are starting the trek back to the bonfire when he reaches out to halt you. His fingers play with wreath of lilies around your neck and his eyes bore into yours pleadingly.

The smile you give him is more radiant then the silvery moons that twinkle in the inky sky.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Even at the late hour the ceremonial bonfire still crackles with life. The festivities have ebbed into something slower, more intimate.

The adults of the clan are all that’s left, children long gone and tucked into their beds or dozing off against their parents' side.

Kiri sits on a carved log, in a circle of familiar faces.

Her mother and father had left not long ago. Tuk had been fighting slumber but succumbed after the Elders crooned a particularly slow song about the Sky and Sea’s forbidden love. Jake had hoisted the young girl up and bid everyone adieu, swaying on his feet as his wife hissed at him about how after all these years, he still couldn’t handle his liquor.

Now, Kiri listens to stories as she sips slowly on her cup of Kava. Enjoying the pleasant burn;

But not willing to end up like her dumb as rocks brother who is sprawled on the ground. Lo’ak is all but unconscious, every time he opens his eyes they are unfocused and hazy.

That’s what he gets for trying to out drink clan members twice his size. He’d been on the losing end of the drinking competition from the start- he was just too stubborn to see it.

Lo’ak is lucky Tsireya doesn’t care much for drinking, and is more than willing to tend to him. She keeps trying to force him to drink water and nibble on bits of food.

Ao’nung isn’t faring much better; he stares at the moon with a dopey smile as he sings, incredibly off tune, to the song that fills the air. A gaggle of girls surround him. Each hoping to catch his eye.

It’d been an all night thing, affections being thrown at him while he ignored it all too easily.

“My bed will be full this season, I’m not worried about a thing” he’d shrugged it off when asked about it.

Roxto’s boisterous laugh had dwindled down when Kiri shot him an extremely unamused glare.

She’s debating on leaving Lo’ak to sleep on the beach for the night when out of the shadows comes her eldest brother; who had been missing for most of the evening.

The hours had bled away and Kiri had tried not to worry too much about the confrontation that was going on just beyond the jovial bubble of the Metkayina celebrations. You had been distraught and Neteyam had never been good at voicing his own emotional needs-

Huh.

It looks like she had nothing to worry about.

The grin on Neteyam’s face is shit eating. It’s the smuggest she’s ever seen him. Even at his first Inknimaya, back with the Omiticaya, he hadn’t reacted like this. All head raised high and walking on a cloud.

You tug him along behind you, you guys’ fingers tightly intertwined. Your hips sway excitedly as you bounce along the sand. Kiri’s brother's chest is puffed out in obvious pride as he follows your footsteps.

Around his neck is Lei made up of vibrant pink flowers. It matches the one in your hair, that sits kind of lopsided now.

As the couple gets you closer, and Kiri catches a whiff of your approaching bodies, she wants to wretch. You’re drowning in each other's scents and it’s quite obvious what you had been up to all night.

“So gross” Kiri gags in accusation once you’re both in earshot.

You two owed her so big. She thinks naming one of your future children after her would suffice.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Okayyyyy. This was so fun to write and I already have Part Three brewing! TAGLIST IS CLOSED.

So like. Lots to address here. Tons to talk about. I’m gonna start the conversation but I hope you guys continue it in the comments.

1. The Motnaui is something I completely made up(…yes after watching Moana and taking inspiration for the name) lol it’s a ritualistic hunt that newly anointed hunters and warriors go on after their Metkayinan Iknimaya’s. I know all the different clans Iknimaya traditions would be different and I thought this would be cool.

2. I read a story in the Avatar fandom where the liquor they drank was called Kava and it just stuck in my brain. I know Kava is a drink in real life too, but for the sake of storytelling, please think about them as completely different things. The drink in this story is more of a wine/moonshine mixture deal. Would really fuck your ass upppp.

3. Fertility Season is obvs totes made up. Why is it rainy during it? Because I myself would want a week of non stop loving making with a nice little fire going, under lots of blankets with it chilly and rainy outside. And at the end of the day I’m writing for me lol

4. NETEYAM IS A SWEETHEART WHO STRUGGLES WITH HIS SELF WORTH JUST LIKE THE REST OF US. Please listen to the Artic Monkeys while you read this chapter(wanna be yours, do I wanna know, 505. THE LONGING)

5. Expect more POV’s to come! It will always be mostly rooted from Y/N’s point of view but I love touching base with all of the other characters. It’s so fun. I’m thinking a snippet of Neytiris in Part Three!

#neteyam smut #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam x reader #aged up neteyam #SMUT!#neteyam x metkayina!reader #neteyam x you #atwow neteyam

3K notes · View notes

thebluester2020 · 1 month

Text

[ZZZ] "How To Recieve An A+ In Housekeeping!"

Summary: Attempting to get a job in Victorian Housekeeping Co. is a very strenuous process! One must show a wide variety of skills, good vocabulary, and excellent manners— all three were skills that you were failing at but, luckily the leader of the company had the perfect method to teach you these skills and it all starts with a program! Warning(s): Dom! Lycaon / Sub! Reader, Brat-Taming [Reader's a bit mouthy at best tbh] Spanking, Slight Edging, Cum Denial [Kinda? Lycaon encourages reader not to cum but doesn't do anything to enforce it tbh], Lycian being gentlemanly as hell. (Feel free to tell me if I missed anything!) Side Note(s): I won't say I am/am not a furry. But I will say that my taste in dudes will always favor them where they're stoic and serious but have a secret soft side. Respectfully, those types of men make me want to do the sexy splits on them.

Anyway, hope y'all enjoy this <33

"Your manners are terrible"

When those words left the wolfman's mouth sternly as you sat before him, only a desk separating the two of you, you could've sworn you felt a metaphorical anvil drop into your stomach. You had been job-hunting for a couple of weeks now, after your last gang had disbanded due to the leader getting caught up with the law. You no longer had a steady flow of cash (albeit a little illegal ) coming in!

From gang member to attempted housemaid...it was laughable. Even to you.

And clearly, the leader of the Victorian Housekeeping company thought so too from the way he looked at your resume with a strict gaze once more before resuming looking at you. You were fully expectant of another harsh sentence to slip from his sharp-toothed youth until...you heard a heavy sigh escape him.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, the very room seeming to react to the movement by the way the single light above you two flickered. His then he huffed. "There is a way to improve to improve your manners, however, you'll be learning from me personally."

You gasped. "Really?! Thank you so much, man!"

His ear twitched at the casual "man" you threw his way. "...Sir or mister is a more proper way of speaking to your male superiors."

You cleared your throat and uttered a 'sorry'. "The program will be for three weeks. Each week will be dedicated to a specific set of manners that you are to master if you wish to join the company."

"Which are?" You responded.

"The first week will be vocabulary, communication with clients, and the correct words to address people by," As Lyacon said this, he opened a drawer on his side before pulling out a piece of paper and sliding it to you. You slowly began to read over the paper, one that seemed like a contract of sorts as the wolf continued to talk.

"The second week will simply focus on posture."

You scoffed as your eyes flicked back up to his. "Posture? Ain't that just walkin'?"

"Proper posture is harder to achieve than one may assume Ms. Y/N." He said. "The third week will be—"

The sudden clearing of his throat made him stop immediately, your face suddenly but quickly turning red as you reached a section on the paper that caught your eye.

Complete submission is expected by those who train under Von Lycaon, especially those he offers "favors" to.

"F-Favors...?"

"Favors hint towards a sexual nature, if I'm to assume that was the inquiry to your question?"

In your former gang, you had heard about Von Lycaon and the whole attitude of the white wolfman. He was a pinnacle of perfection in seemingly everything he did! There didn't seem to be a single thing he half-assed, to put it crudely, and what's more? He didn't get distracted. So...for a document to suggest that he wanted submission during sex?

You didn't know if it was shocking or expected.

"I didn't expect the Lycaon to need a document to garner sex." You said.

A rare chuckle left him. "I don't," He answered. "But everyone learns quicker and better when praise and pleasure is included, correct? This is merely a suggestion for you to learn faster. You are more than welcome to opt out of this."

"And if I accept?" Upon that question, the corners of Lycaon's mouth curled up slightly as he slowly leaned in until you could just barely feel his breath.

"Then you will learn fast. On my honor, I promise you."

You should've said no to this optional part of the program. All you needed was a job and Lycaon made it clear that there was a sexless version of the program where you'd simply learn the old-fashioned way! No pleasure or sex included but...as your eyes steadily trailed over the thiren, you couldn't deny he was a handsome individual. It wouldn't be unpleasant in the slightest to have benefits while completing your training under him. And as you steadily came to that conclusion, your thighs beginning to clench underneath the desk.

The thiren briefly sniffed at the air before he closed his eyes and exhaled. He was as still as a statue for a brief moment before he cleared his throat and offered you a pen from his breast pocket.

"I didn't give you an official answer—"

"Your scent gave me a suggestion." His raspy voice in combination with the sudden feral look in his eyes...you all too quickly shooed away any doubts you may have had before you began to sign away on the line at the bottom of the paper. And once you did, sliding the paper gently back to the wolf, he read over it briefly before he folded it neatly and placed it back into a drawer.

"We shall begin Monday," Lycaon said. "Please be prompt and on-time, I don't tolerate tardiness."

"Yeah, yeah." You scoffed.

And thus, your training as a potential housemaid for the Victorian Housekeeping Company has officially begun.

. . .

| Week One |

You had slept in, you had forgotten to set a timer over the weekend, too engrossed with the fact that you had basically agreed to have sex with Lycaon during your three-week training! The second you arrived home, it was a struggle to not touch yourself to the thought of what he looked like underneath his kept-together appearance.

You imagined he'd be soft to the touch judging by how much fur he had.

Would he be firm with his gaze, demanding you to be perfect even in the heat of the moment? Or would be he gentle and accommodating with you?

No matter how much your body cried out for you to indulge yourself a little, you saved it until you experienced it for yourself.

But right now, as your head was bowed down in apology to the wolfman for making him wait over forty minutes to your first day. You had a strong feeling you wouldn't be experiencing anything pleasurable today. "Once again dude, I am SO sorry!" You said.

"I forgot to set a timer, then I wanted to stop and get some breakfast along the way—"

"Stop," He snapped his jaws with a growl seeming to bubble just underneath the surface, the sight of his fangs making you shudder out of fear and...the slightest hint of excitement.

"First appearances are important, the most important out of any interaction and you sullied it on your first day of training? How do you expect to work for the company with such a flippant attitude?"

"I said sorry—"

"Sorry does not cut it Ms. Y/N. Excusing being a minute or two late is another matter but forty? Punishment is the only fitting way to solve such blatant disregard for other people's time." At those chilling words, Lycaon took a single step toward you before he took your chin into his hand, his eyes scanning over your nervous form with a critical gaze before he eventually sighed.

"I have a punishment in mind, please see to it that you are undressed in my office within' five minutes, and be on time."

Your eyes widened to the size of saucers before you huffed defiantly. "I'm not doing that!" You yelled.

His ear flicked, to him? You sounded like an impudent child, screaming and doing anything to get out of being scolded by their parent. "No?" He tilted his head.

"No!"

A wolfish smirk crept onto his face. "Every minute you stand here is an additional minute to your punishment Ms. Y/N. Do take care to remember that."

And so, there you stood.

| + | + | + |

You wouldn't be able to claim that he wasn't patient for the entire duration you had a fit about being punished on the first day of training. For about ten whole minutes, you stood there staring at the thiren until you eventually got bored and decided that "your punishment wouldn't be that bad" and simply went to his office!

You sat on a black couch and waited and when Lycaon came in?

The way he so quickly got his hands on you felt like you were being thrown around by an uncouth beast, a complete switch from the gentlemanly wolf you were talking to just a few minutes ago.

Slap! "Count." He ordered.

"O-One—Ah!"

He tutted his lips with a shake of his head as his hand slapped against your ass again, your maid uniform tugged up to your midsection as he pinned your hands down with his free hand. "Proper communication is most effective when you're speaking clearly Ms. Y/N...also, it's "one, sir"."

Another slap against your red behind rang out in the air, your body jerking forward a little at the movement. "At this rate, you'll never reach fifty." He sighed.

"W-Wait...!" You begged. "J-Just give me a break...so I can c-catch my breath—" When he slowly inched his hand upward again, your eyes widened as you quickly remembered your manners. "S-Sir! J-Just let me catch my breath...please."

If your eyes weren't blurry with tears, your mind getting fuzzier and fuzzier as you tried to ignore the ache in your cunt. You could've sworn you saw his tail move a little. After a minute, however, a sharp gasp left your swollen lips when you felt a finger graze against your sex, the featherlight touch making you shudder as you whipped your head around to look at the Lycaon.

Unconsciously, his tongue poked out to sweep against his upper set of canines as he focused on how your slick oozed out from your pussy so shamelessly. But at the same time? He figured he shouldn't have been shocked at the lewd sight, his keen hearing didn't miss the way a tiny moan would escape your lips at each slap. It was as if you wanted him to keep going and didn't want your punishment to end anytime soon.

Such behavior wasn't befitting of a potential future employee at the company. "Are you done recuperating? If so, then let us continue."

"W-Wait..." You begged. "J-Just a little time- Ah!"

"Now, now—" He pressed his hand down on your wrists a little more, lightly pinching at your thigh with the tip of his claws to calm your squirming. "—If you focus and count Ms. Y/N then your punishment will be over very soon, please remain focused."

After a final warning, he was quick to resume his smacks against your ass. The pain and pleasure eventually blurring into one another enough for your brain to somehow find a way to "center" itself. And, after around twenty minutes...Lycaon finally released you from your bent-over position over his lap and got up.

A lingering rebelliousness in the back of your head wanted to curse out the wolf as he stood, fixing his cuffs until they were neat again as if he wasn't rocking a blatant boner in his trousers! Yet as your mouth began to open as he walked further away...it quickly shut when he started walking back to you after grabbing something from a bookshelf behind his desk.

"What is that?" You asked.

"Aloe cream, it should help with the burn and any burning sensations."

Oh, you thought.

How...nice of him.

At your silence, his head tilted as he sat down next to you. "Are you alright?"

"Huh? Oh, y-yeah...I just wasn't expecting aftercare." You blushed.

"Your work would be even more affected if I didn't do this, I wouldn't want that." Suddenly, your heart skipped a beat.

. . .

| Week Two |

You didn't want to admit it to yourself at the time but you knew full well as to why your heart skipped a beat that day. At first, you tried to joke and claim that you were a masochist starting to bloom! Von Lycaon was handsome, yes but you knew how to distinguish between work and personal lives! Besides, you wanted money more than you did romance and if the latter interfered with your money...you weren't in any shape or form interested in it.

But, at the second week's coming, this week focused on posture if your memory served correctly. You couldn't lie or joke to yourself anymore.

You developed a crush on your future boss.

And it grew harder and harder to deny that fact in your...current position. Naked aside from your short black heels, you were standing right in front of Lycaon with his pants pulled down just enough to reveal his leaking dick. The tip seemed to turn increasingly into an angrier red as you continued to stay frozen in place. "Are you uncomfortable?" Lycaon's words snapped you out of your thoughts before you shook your head.

"N-No sir! It's just..." You went quiet for a second. "How...how is this going to teach me posture?"

"If you would come closer, I will show you." Like a siren's song, the beckoning of his clawed finger made you take small steps forward until you were finally in front of him. "I'll be letting you take control of me for some time," You could've sworn you caught a smirk on his lips at his words. "If you manage to fuck me until I cum with the correct posture then consider your training done, and welcome to your new job as a new maid to the Victorian Housekeeping company. I'll be generous and not even include the third week of training."

"But—" As his hand found its way to your hips, he gently tugged you forward until he slowly maneuvered you to straddle him on his lap, his cock throbbing against your stomach as beads of sweat started to appear at the back of your neck. He reached the middle of your stomach, easily! And that wasn't even considering his girth. "—If your posture fails, you will unfortunately stick to the original training program. And I must warn you, most do not manage to get through week three."

You jumped a little when you felt Lycaon's hand move down to your pussy. "What are you doing?" You voiced out shakily, your clit throbbing at Lycaon's touch as one finger alone was enough to cover your entire clit.

"Preparing you of course," He said with an "obviously" tone. "No matter how much I can smell your eagerness in the air—" A sharp moan escaped your lips when his finger started to slowly move, your cheeks burning at the fact you let out such a noise from such little stimulation. "—I doubt you will be able to fully take me without a little prep."

"Y-You..." You bit your tongue to keep a curse from flying out, your hands quickly moving to his shoulders as you tried to ground yourself and not lose yourself too quickly to the pleasure. A task that you were quickly failing at as you felt a knot slowly begin to form in the pit of your stomach, scorching hot tears brimming your eyes as a single line of drool fell from the corner of your lips.

And Lycaon was enjoying every second of it.

If he were to be honest with himself.

He didn't want you to succeed this time.

After having so much fun with you last week, he would say that he had gotten a bit greedy. As entertaining as it was to tame your bratty behavior and mold it into something more palpable as someone who would be interacting with clients often, it was torture all the same to him to not shut you up with his cock instead! It wasn't enough to rut into his hand at the end of every day, heated pants leaving his lips as his tongue lulled out of his mouth like some common dog begging for a slip of meat.

To say that it was unbecoming of him to set you up for failure was an understatement, rubbing your needy bud until you nearly squirted on him wouldn't make you last very long when you were actually seated on his cock. And as cruel as it was for him to say...how unbecoming and un-gentlemanly it was...

He was so fucking eager for you to fail.

"S-Sir..." His ears perked to your whining as your head fell his chest, his ears then moving to the sound of lewd squelching coming from your pussy. "Please...I-I'm so close..." You whined.

He allowed himself to play with you a minute longer until...he took his finger away.

He struggled to withhold a laugh at your state, your eyes seeming to be confused and stuck between wanting to glare angrily at him or beggingly like a wanton whore for him to continue. "Don't look like that," He said. "If I were to make you cum now, you would be too shaky to fuck me."

You were too shaky now.

But, you'd first kiss the seat of a toilet lid before admitting defeat.

"I-I won't fail this..." You said with determination, although breathlessly.

His tail wagged ever so slightly at your determination. "We shall see," He responded before he relaxed against the couch with a deep sigh. "Please begin at your leisure Ms. Y/N." When you took him into your hand, you felt a surge of confidence at Lycaon's not-so-quiet sharp inhale of breath. You prayed that he was just as needy as you because as you lined him up to your entrance and started to slid him into you, every inch that sunk further into you made your mouth gap wider and wider until you were certain you looked like a gasping fish.

He rubbed against your walls so nicely too, his girth stretching you out just enough to where it made you drool as it touched spots inside of you that you hadn't had a clue existed until today!

"F-Fuckkkkk..." You moaned out once you were fully seated on him.

You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, desperately trying to ignore that burning feeling in your core as you began to move.

"Shit." Oh, how you just wanted to just shove a hand over his snout to keep him from letting out such sexy noises. His raspy voice and the way his thumbs rubbed encouraging circles into your hips...it wasn't good for you. You'd cum faster at this rate.

"Faster," Lycaon suddenly ordered, opening one of his red eyes to look at you.

"I...I can't- Oh!" Your words caught in your throat when he suddenly fucked up into you. A squeal nearly leaving your throat as you shut your eyes tightly to try and force back that urge to cum.

"Disobeying a superior now Ms. Y/N?" One of his hands slowly dragged up your back before it gently shoved you forward a little. Immediately, you fixed your posture although you nearly fell back over a couple of times. "You should watch yourself, my type of punishment for this act won't be very fun."

You doubted that.

But, as your hands tightened on his shoulders and you fucked yourself more quicker onto him. Tears started to flow down your cheeks more easily as you couldn't deny the burning feeling in your stomach anymore, how the way Lycaon's dick throbbed inside of you and pressed against your most sensitive spots...the urge to beg him for the chance to cum, just once was on the tip of your tongue but you tried to stay focused. "Oh my God..." He moaned deeply.

"Fuckkk..."

"A-Are you close?" You whined.

He scoffed. "Not even close," You felt your hopes nearly crash and shatter at those words. "But...your pussy feels so good on my cock," He praised, his tail thumping against the couch unabashedly as he stared up at you with hooded eyes and a feral gaze. "Perhaps, instead of a maid, you should be my personal breeding toy."

His smirk grew when he felt your pussy tighten around his cock.

"Yeah?" He asked. "You like that?"

You shook your head, shutting your eyes tightly as if not seeing him would help your situation anyway. However, as you felt a furred hand cup the side of your face, the feeling of breaths hitting your face. Your eyes slowly cracked open to the wolf thiren's face right in front of yours, panting and moaning with little to no shame before he smiled. "So pretty like this Y/N..." He said before his leaned down to begin pressing kisses to the side of your neck.

Briefly, the thought of whether or not this was a part of the training flashed in the front of your mind. But...as quick as it came, it was gone. You wanted to believe that...he wasn't following some manual when it came to his actions, that they were meant just for you and you alone. "You're so wet, making so much noise...I think I was right in my earlier suggestion hm? Maybe you will do better as my toy."

You shook your head. "Don't lie." He lightly nipped your shoulder, the sharp sudden pain being just what you needed to throw you over the edge before...Lycaon's ears moved to the sound of gushing and the feeling of wetness splashing against his pants and a bit of his thighs.

Without a second thought, his fingers shot down to gather some of your cum onto his fingers before he tasted you, a groan rumbling out as he almost shocked himself with how fast he got hard again. But before he could mention it, much less suggest it, when Lycaon returned his gaze to you. He saw you passed out against his chest, the very sight making him laugh ever so quietly before he sighed.

He supposed he was feeling a touch bit generous...he expected you to cum within seconds of fucking yourself onto his cock but it took you longer than that! To the point, he actually began to worry about cumming first or not! Although he had a mind not to be, he decided to be generous and forgiving seeing as you fucked him until the point of total exhaustion on your point.

He'd give you a passing A+ for effort.

#zzz #zzzero #zenless zone zero #zenlesszonezero #von lycaon #von lycaon smut #zzz von lycaon #zzz lycaon #von lycaon x reader #von lycaon zzz #von lycaon zenless zone zero #lycaon smut #zzz smut #zenless zone zero smut #zenless zone zero x reader #zzz x reader #smut writing

256 notes · View notes

deliciousbasementtrash · 1 year

Text

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. On your way home from work, you encounter an injured superhero. You have seen his secret identity. Now what will he do about it?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x reader, (maybe a why choose with Dick Grayson as well?? Idk tell me what you guys want)

Warning: Adult language, verbal abuse, parental abuse, severe injuries

Word Count: 1.5k

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it

Part One: Is that Trash or a Man?

There is calm chaos when working in the emergency room. You get used to the cacophony of beeps and alarms. Of moans, crying, screaming, and arguing. You get used to being on your feet all day and moving from task to task, from patient to patient. You get used to it because there is no other option. People need care and they need it now. You either step the fuck up or switch to a different unit. Or move to a calmer, cleaner, less crime-filled city. Calm wasn’t really my vibe. Maybe externally that’s what I portrayed, but internally my mind craves the chaos of the ER. It craves the chaos of Gotham. And the Gotham ER was an entirely different beast.

I finished nursing school about a year ago. A lot of my peers used it as an out. They went to more stable cities in New Jersey that had better funding and less chance of getting knifed in the staff parking lot. I was one of the only ones that stayed. I definitely was the only one that worked in the hospital. I couldn’t deny the demand for nurses was high, and the paychecks were even higher at Gotham General Hospital. And maybe some small pathetic part of my brain wanted to make the world a better place. I wanted Gotham to be a better place. Every day I worked. I convinced myself that how matter how shitty it got; I was making a difference. Even if it was only a handful of people in the grand scheme of things.

I could convince myself that I mattered. That everyone mattered. That these people deserve more. They deserve better; they deserve a second, third, fourth, fifth chance. If I stopped trying to convince myself of that I know I would give up entirely. Seeing gunshot wounds, stabbings, overdoses, mutilations, burns, crushings, poisonings, beatings, day after day is a lot like erosion of the soul. Little by little it wears you down. You become jaded and jagged with time. Empathy becomes blame. Hope becomes desolate. Love becomes anger. The only thing you can do is gaslight yourself into thinking you’re making a big enough difference. That you’re helping enough people. After all, the brain can’t tell the difference between truth and irony. You tell yourself so many lies, you can start to believe them, right?

Gotham City: 16 Years Ago

“Dad, when is mom coming home?” My small voice asked. I was scared to make Dad yell at me again. I didn’t like it when I made him yell.

“She’s got stage four fucking cancer she is coming out of the hospital in a body bag, y/n.”

I fought the tears that burned behind my eyes. Dad would get even angrier if he saw them. It was stupid of me to even ask.

I felt him turn to me. His eyes bored into my skull. Quickly, I looked down at his feet.

“Have you tried again?” He asked. His tone clipped. I knew he expected a timely answer.

Involuntarily, my fingers ruthlessly picked the skin around my nails. The sting was grounding in a way.

“No, sir. Well yes, I have tried, but I… I failed,” the last word felt like a hot poker being placed through my throat.

“Look at me.” Breathing became difficult, but I looked up at my father. He leaned his face close to mine. I could smell Jack wafting off him. “What good are you? What good is having healing powers if you can’t heal your sick mother?”

The simple hangnail became a chunk of missing skin. I lowered my head. Fighting back tears.

“Sir,” my traitorous voice wobbled as I tried not to cry, “I keep trying but… I don’t think my power is that strong. I can close cuts, fix broken bones, but tumors are… hard.”

My father tilted his head back and laughed. Hard. He grabbed my wrist as quickly as a viper, “If I could put your mother’s cancer in you I would. You’re about as useful as a wet match in a dark cave.”

I couldn’t help the tears that fell down my cheek. It felt like I was involuntarily waving a white flag.

Gotham City: Present Day

I had to be stealthy with my gift. I couldn’t heal every one of the patients to full health right away. That would lead to suspicion. But if I could help it I could stop the major damage. I would heal internal organs. Replenish blood. Reduce ten fractures to two or one. It all depended on timing and if people were watching me.

I was walking home from the hospital. I only lived about three blocks away. I got off shift at around 20:49. I didn’t start my next stretch for another three days. And I was milking my walk home. Stopping to smell the roses or whatever. That is normally not a very smart thing to do in Gotham at night, especially as a woman. But part of me didn’t care.

Earlier, I looked at my phone and frowned when I realized the date.

Thursday, May 19th.

My mom died 16 years ago today. Waves of emotion flooded my senses. Anger at myself for not remembering. Sadness that she had been gone more of my life than she had been in it. Restlessness for what my father might do or say. Some years he likes to reach out. Others he doesn’t. But most of all I was feeling reckless. Like I wanted someone to give me a reason. Obviously, I would only hurt someone to defend myself or others. But there was so much anger living in my body, part of me hoped some idiot would try something with me tonight.

So, I walked home. Slowly.

Normally, you keep your head down and you keep moving. You don’t look or gawk. You listen out of necessity. I was listening just because I could. It was the normal stuff. Men smoking cigarettes and catcalling. Women were offering their nightly services. Random people either praising or damning superheroes. Drug deals. Graffiti artists. Fights. And of course, people who simply were walking home from work. Gotham had range and was never boring that’s for sure.

But something picked up on the very edge of my senses. Despite my better logic, I turned toward the very quiet sound. It could have just been rats, but it sounded so familiar. It sounded like a death rattle. The thing you hear just before shit hits the fan and the patient codes.

Without thinking I ran down the alley toward the sound. At first, it was nothing. Just trash and rats. But then I saw it. He almost blended perfectly in with the shiny black garbage bags. His cape was the same color but reflected the light less.

“Sir? Sir, are you alright?” I walked hesitantly forward, grabbing my pepper spray just in case.

The man did not answer, he only garbled and coughed. My work brain took over my fear. Instantly I rolled the man over and began assessing him. I suppressed a gasp when I rolled him over and a familiar cowl mask came into view. It was cracked down the middle. His face was bleeding from an unknown location. His breathing was labored and staggered.

Calmly, I closed my eyes and pressed my hands against his chest.

Oh yeah. Batman was dying. He had several broken ribs. A pneumothorax. A bruised liver, kidney, and pancreas. His cardiac output was a joke. The man had no perfusion.

I didn’t think. I didn’t hold back like I do at the hospital. I just healed. And healed. And healed. I healed him down to his bone-on-bone knees, sprained ankle, and fractured wrist.

God, this guy had a lot of injuries.

I was close to passing out by the time I was done. I had done too much, ate, and slept too little. My powers were demanding when it came to energy. If I didn’t eat or sleep within 30 minutes I was about to pass out next to bat boy himself.

I gave him one last assessment. After double-checking that he would live and that I didn’t miss anything I finally looked at his face again.

This time I gasped. Batman was the billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne? I shook my head like I was clearing cobwebs. I didn’t have time to dwell on it. Much like Batman, I didn’t want people to know what I could do. The last time people knew…

Just as I turned and took a few steps I rolled my eyes at my nagging thoughts.

What if someone sees him before he wakes up?

Reaching into my tote bag I pulled out a black medical mask. I not so gracefully MacGyvered it across his exposed face so that it was covered. And with that, I made my way home.

My cat, Hashbrown, eagerly greeted me at the door. I nearly fell asleep locking it. I bent down to pick her up and gave her a kiss on her perfect little cat head. I ripped my gross work scrubs off, threw them in the wash, and crashed on the couch in my underwear before my brain could process what happened.

I healed Batman.

I healed… Bruce Wayne?

Part Two, Part Three

507 notes · View notes

foreststarflaime · 2 months

Text

*pointing at AGS* they are all gay and in love. What you see here is an incredibly complex, tragic (queerplatonic?) polycule. They all mean so so much to each other but they’re all so bad at communication in their own weird ways that they don’t know it. These two fuckers (gengeal) have known each other since they were born and barely know a life without each other in it. This idiot (seph) has this idiot (geal) to be the only kind of caring figure in his life because he never had parents and there sure isn’t anyone else in his life who treats him with an ounce of the kindness he deserves. These two dumbasses (sephgen) can’t get it through their thick skulls that there’s no one they respect more than the other and each is the ideal the other strives for. They were all cut from the same cloth and bound by the fateful thread of coincidence. All three of them are so wildly codependent on each other that when they part they very nearly take the world with them. A threesome? They don’t need it, they have sex by beating the shit out of each other with steel swords fully clothed. They’re all so scared, they’ve all made it through life just trying to make sure they all get there alive. It didn’t work. They love each other so much in every way, romantic, platonic, a secret third thing.

Whataburger drive through employee: …sir would you like your chicken tenders now

Me, through a mouthful of chicken: I don’t think you understand. It is vitally important that you understand this

110 notes · View notes

lurkingshan · 2 months

Text

Japanese QL Corner

My cup runneth over with excellent jql, and we just got confirmation that Cosmetic Playlover will be joining the line up next week. All but one of these are on Gaga; I highly recommend picking them up!

Takara's Treasure

I really love this unassuming little show and how gently it's advancing this relationship. This week reinforced that Taishin is the only one who really sees Takara beyond his popular hot guy reputation. He can tell he is struggling and he notices when he is overcome by sadness. Their adventure helping the tiny child find his way home was a nice way for them to bond and see each other's good qualities, and also to prompt some reflection from Takara about his own relationship with his mother. I am still dying to know more about what happened there.

I Hear the Sunspot

Most of this episode had me chewing glass; I loved every single minute of their camping trip. Seeing Kohei's walls coming down was so rewarding, and I was relieved when he finally stopped holding back and let himself smile. Taichi's ongoing struggle with understanding what he feels for Kohei was also super compelling, and I liked that Kohei got to express some frustration at his obliviousness. He flirts all the time without seeming to realize he's doing it, both with Kohei and with other people, and it's hard for Kohei to hold back when his confession is already laying there between them. Taichi seemed to finally be putting some things together when he confessed that he doesn't hate Kohei's attention. And because I loved all of that so much, it was a bit of a womp womp to then do a time skip only to introduce a new third party to inspire jealousy and set them right back where they were last week. It feels like wheel spinning, so I do hope we'll be moving through that quickly.

Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko

Besties, I AM PISSED OFF. I cannot believe the behavior of the people around Hiroko this week, and I am ready to fight them on her behalf. Let me just say this real clearly: Hiroko does not owe anyone the truth about her sexuality, and if she doesn't want to be out at work, that is her choice and nobody else's goddamn business. Risa is off the best girl list forever after the shit she pulled today. Digging for gossip and outing Hiroko only so she could criticize her to try to sway Ayaka was some ugly shit, and I will not be forgetting it. And I am also side-eyeing Hiroko's "friends" at the bar, who saw Hiroko panic when she ran into those two, heard them call her senpai, and still spilled all her secrets when Risa came poking around (though I appreciate that at least Mama quickly realized they'd fucked up and apologized). I am sad that Hiroko doesn't actually have anyone on her side, and it's clear from the brief flashbacks we keep seeing that she has been betrayed in the past. I am curious to see where they go with Ayaka's quest from here, because continuing to push Hiroko when she's drawn a firm boundary is not the move. Something in the dynamic will need to shift.

Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding

This shoooooooooow. I'm obsessed. Episode 2 is now available on @isaksbestpillow's blog. This week we got more hints about Mitsuya's past and other relationships (just how many boyfriends do you have, sir?), met my new favorite Shige, and learned about Ishida's past baseball career and why he's still feeling a little lost trying to establish himself in a new field. I loved following Mitsuya and Ishida on their long day together; their chemistry feels so natural and the whole sequence with Mitsuya making the tenshinhan was excellent. I was also super excited that Ishida has figured himself out quickly and knows he's crushing on Mitsuya. He's going to need that awareness because he appears to have a lot of competition.

Twilight Out of Focus

Tagging in @twig-tea to talk about this week's episode, which shifted the focus to a new couple.

#japanese ql corner #takara no vidro #takara's treasure #i hear the sunspot #hidamari ga kikoeru #ayaka is in love with hiroko #mr mitsuya's planned feeding #mitsuya sensei no keikakutekina ezuke #twilight out of focus #japanese bl #japanese gl #shan shouts into the void

80 notes · View notes

55sturn · 8 months

Text

✮ TO KNOW THINGS LIKE LOVE 0.2

pairing: matt sturniolo × female!reader (past tense)

synopsis: in which matt’s life is turned upside down in a split second and it leaves him a shell of the person he uses to be.

warnings: angst. angst. angst. ANGSTTTTT. death of main character, car crash, panic attacks, funeral, matt being absolutely heartbroken, broken relationship with hygiene and food, survivors guilt, suicide contemplation, no happy endings, get your tissues ready.

if you or a loved one is suffering from suicidal ideations, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me, to a friend, to a professional, or your regional/national suicide hotline from this list. the world is a better place with you in it and you are so loved.

THIRD PERSON POV

matt smiled at his girlfriend, hold the door open for her, as she made her way down the stairs leading from her front door.

“hey pretty lady.” matt whispered, making her playfully roll her eyes at the corniness of his actions, but the affection and intention behind his words and actions made her heart swell deep in her chest.

“you’re such a goof.” she laughed, pressing a quick kiss to his lips as she reached him, her way to say hello while simultaneously thanking him for being such a gentleman.

the two sat in comfortable and peaceful silence as they slowly made their way toward matt’s top secret date destination of the night. y/n couldn’t help but notice the way matt kept chewing his nails as he weaved his way down the busy los angeles roads. smiling, she wordlessly took his hand away from his mouth and intertwined their fingers.

“baby what’s wrong?”

“i’m just nervous honey, that’s all.”

“why?” she hummed, watching as they made their way into the turning lane, waiting a couple of cars away from the intersection.

“because i love you and i really need tonight to go well.” matt smiled, his plan of proposing staying well hidden in the back of his mind.

“baby, i love you so much that i would be fine if we ended up at some greasy fast food restaurant. i’d go anywhere with you.” she laughed, the sound easing his worries as he began to move his car forward.

“baby i love you t-.” matt started, attempting to pull up to the line before the intersection, but was soon cut off, watching in horror as a car barrelled toward his, his hand squeezing her as they had no time to move before the sickening sound of squealing rubber and breaking glass filled the air.

for a moment, matt struggled to open his eyes, the sharp ringing in his ears causing such a strong vibration that it was impossible for him to focus. taking in his surroundings, he realized his car had been pushed into the one beside him, the damage on his was minimal but still severe enough to write off the car. as he turned his head, it was as if all time had stopped. rushing to unbuckle himself, he pushed himself up in his seat, reaching to press the fingers of his free hand to y/n’s throat, struggling to find a pulse.

he pressed his fingers to every pulse point he could reach, not one single thump was found. his hand that still held hers started to tremble as he tapped her face lightly, watching as her head fell limp to her opposite shoulder.

“no, n-no baby, c’mon. wake up please.” he stuttered, thrashing around in his seat as people were able to successfully push the smaller car on his side out of the way, reaching him.

“sir are you okay?”

“yes but i think my girlfriend’s dead. she’s not breathing and i can’t find a pulse. please call for help.”

“the police and ambulance are on their way. do you want help getting out?” the stranger asked, reaching for the handle.

“no! i’m not fucking leaving her.” he screamed, running a shaky hand through his hair.

AFTER THE CRASH

matt sat on the curb, covered in a blanket watching as the coroners wheeled his girlfriend away in a body bag. abruptly, he stood up and keeled over, bracing himself up his hands and knees as he emptied the contents of his stomach for a third time since getting pulled out of his car.

matt had already talked to officers and every person that had questions for him, explaining in detail what happened as he waited for nick and chris. his injuries had been checked and cleaned and he had been cleared to wait on the curb.

the sound of glass breaking echoed in his mind, thankful in some sick way that y/n went quickly, not being able to stomach the thought of her screaming in agony. he never wanted to be in pain and he prayed that the few fleeting moments she had before she went were painless. the sound of nick and chris yelling brought him out of his traumatized stupor as he rose to his feet, quickly barrelling through the crowd of people into his brothers’ arms.

“matt what happened? where’s y/n.”

“a car came out of nowhere and hit her side and she-she’s gone.” matt sobbed, his knees crumbling beneath him as his brothers held him for support, their own hearts breaking for him.

“oh matt, i’m so sorry.” nick soothed, his voice cracking as they realized the severity of what had happened.

TWO WEEKS LATER

the triplets had flown home back to boston on separate private flights, per their requests. news had broken out about matt’s car crash and they weren’t ready to deal with the stares.

over the two weeks of preparation for the funeral, matt had drastically fallen apart. he wasn’t eating, wasn’t showering, and he has even contemplated taking his own life multiple times. but he couldn’t go through with it. he knew he had to live for y/n, carry on her love for life and everything it brought, no matter how hard it was for him.

matt had opted to fly home with y/n’s parents and her casket on a private jet that the hospital provided for them. not much was said or heard on the flight home aside from y/n’s mother’s and matt’s sniffles. matt had held tightly onto her mom’s hand the entire flight home. he had agreed to speak on her behalf at her funeral that was planned for the day after they arrived home

matt sighed as he straightened his tie, one that y/n had picked out out for him the night of her formal event at the university she was attending. it was a pale blue, almost silver, and she had claimed it matched his eyes perfectly. sadly he smiled at the piece of fabric before picking up his speech.

he left the small room that the funeral services had provided for him to prepare himself in and headed for the staircase at the end of the hall. as he made his way down the stairs, he was met with his brothers and y/n’s sister. after reassuring nick and chris that he could handle this, he turned to y/s/n and took a shaky breath.

“y/s/n i am so sorry, i meant to check in with you yesterday but being home was just too much.”

“matt, don’t you dare apologize. you are dealing with the worst thing imaginable. i wasn’t even there with her and i can’t even get myself to leave the house most days.” she whispered, tears falling from her eyes as she pulled the middle triplet into a tight hug.

“i miss her so much.”

“i know matty, i do too.” she spoke softly, patting him on the shoulder before making her way to where her parents were going to be sitting. matt took a seat at the back of the room as they began the service. matt stayed in his seat until he was called to the front. sighing he grasped the edges of the lectern, his speech laid out in front of him before he crumpled it, deciding to speak from the heart.

“hello everyone, i am matt sturniolo. most of you may know me as y/n’s boyfriend, some of you may know me as the guy she wouldn’t stop talking about all throughout high school even when we got together in tenth grade.” he laughed sadly, earning a few laughs from the people in front of him.

“we are here today,-“ he paused, clearing his throat as tears welled in his eyes,

“to celebrate the life of y/n m/n l/n. she was, and still is, pretty much always will be one of a kind. she was the love of my life. i was actually going to propose to her that night. and there was a time that i thought i would know her forever, but now i will just know her memory, and while that breaks my heart. it will be an honour to carry her memory with me forever. there are many stories i could tell you about her but i think she would curse me from above if i told those stories in front of her parents. i don’t think i can get through much more of this without falling apart so i will leave you with this, everyone in this room has had the pleasure of knowing such an incredible, gentle soul. if you were loved by y/n, you knew it. she might not have said it outright but you could feel her love for you in everything she did or said. she had such a big heart and did anything she could to share it. some may say it was a curse to love so deeply, but not y/n. god she always looked at it like it was her sole purpose in life. she treated it like it was breathing. loving any and every thing was second nature to her. and i hope, that i can spread even half as much as she did.” matt spoke softly, not bothering to wipe the tears that fell down his face as he turned to face her casket,

“y/n, my love, i will always cherish everything you have said and done for me, and i will love you in this lifetime and the next, may we meet again.”

taglist: @dylsdunbar @soursturniolo @4sturns @sturnsclutter @spencerstits @meanttomeet @bluesturniolo333 @graciereid @abbie13sworld @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @mylifeisevenstranger @bethsturn @ifilwtmfc @verosivy @themattgirl @lovingmattysposts @lacysturniolo @freshsturns @annaloveschris @forevergirlposts @sturniolo-fav-matt @cupidsword

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo oneshot #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo oneshot #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets smut #Spotify

184 notes · View notes

writingstoraes · 1 year

Note

Secret trip part two? With like the guests pictures, well wishes and some honeymoon posts from the newly weds 🤞😍

the days after 🏝

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au (heavier on the ig part hehe)

notes: thank you sm for requesting, lovely! i hope you like this 🤍 reqs are still open! (tho patience is required i have varying levels of productivity lol) posting next would be the part 3 of split! lmk if anyone wants to be tagged hehe

about: after revealing the private wedding you and charles had in italy, here's what came after!

this is the part 2 to secret trip! read it here.

carlossainz55

liked by pierregasly, landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 984,221 others

carlossainz55 Suited up and attended something 🥂

pierregasly What's with the mystery everyone knows Charles and Y/N got married

carlossainz55 Mind your own Insta, thank you very much?

scuderiaferrari Looking sharp, Smooth Operator! ❤️

danielricciardo Okay we see you Mr. Secrecy 😁

carlossainz55 I'm not hiding anything????

landonorris People literally know you attended a wedding

carlossainz55 IT WAS JUST A CAPTION? Can't I post a picture of myself in peace? 55sainzz LMAOOO THEY WONT LET HIM BREATHE 😭

pierregasly

liked by arthurleclerc, lorenzotl, yourusername, and 564,983 others

pierregasly Somewhere in Italy, two of my greatest friends tied the knot. Congratulations to the two best people I know ❤️ Grateful to be a part of this magical day and I only wish you two the happiest of days. Seems like it was just yesterday when Charles was boasting how you finally texted him back 🤣

estebanocon I am not the best person you know?

landonorris Hurts, right?

charles_leclerc The last part was uncalled for... but yeah I was proud :D

charlesmcqueen hes been whipped for her ever since god i have seen what you have done for others

danielricciardo See carlossainz55 this is how you do a greeting

carlossainz55 I am going to post one can you all wait damn

danielricciardo

liked by lewishamilton, maxverstappen, georgerussell63, and 849,273 others

danielricciardo Almost a year ago, Charles and Y/N asked me to take some pictures of them to commemorate their engagement. Believe it or not, these pictures are outtakes and unplanned. I happened to catch such beautiful moments between the two of them and now I just witnessed them celebrate their love for each other.

Congratulations, yourusername and charles_leclerc!

landonorris Another smashing greeting related to the wedding, carlossainz55 can't relate 🙏

carlossainz55 I am about to block all of you

yourusername melting at your caption aside, why am i only seeing this now, daniel?

danielricciardo Saved it for a second wedding gift 😁

gaslyscar Jesus i am never going to experience this am I 😪

lewishamilton

liked by charles_leclerc, mercedesamgf1, susiewolff, and 1,001,223 others

lewishamilton Was not able to snap some pictures from the wedding but luckily, I have this in my gallery from all the times I have spent third-wheeling with them. I think the smiles on their faces say it all. Congratulations, newlyweds! 🤵👰

charles_leclerc Million thanks for telling me what her name was, mate 😆

lewishamilton You're also welcome for the texts I helped you construct cause you were too afraid to send one britcedesbro sir lewis hamilton professional matchmaker???

carlossainz55 At this point who hasn't third-wheeled with them?

yourusername hey you guys make it seem like it's a bad thing charles_leclerc And we pay the bill to compensate???

carlossainz55

liked by maxverstappen, charles_leclerc, yourusername, and 678,234 others

carlossainz55 Such an unbelievable experience to witness Charles and Y/N's journey as a couple. A witness since their first date, the first time Charles introduced her to Ferrari team members, the day Charles told me he was out picking a ring, up to being the first to receive the good news that Y/N said yes. I only wish you guys eternal moments of love, happiness, and peace ❤️

And before the entire grid comes at me for this, yes I am capable of doing a proper greeting. Thanks.

yourusername hmm, seems like you're doing this to prove something, carlito

charles_leclerc Totally, out of spite carlossainz55 I cannot catch a break from all of you 😐

landonorris Their faces aren't visible

pierregasly Where are our pictures??? carlossainz55 That's it, hard blocking all of you

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, arthurleclerc, and 341,886 others

yourusername maldives with the man i recently got my last name from 🏖️

pierregasly Enjoy, newlyweds ❤️

landonorris Bring me home some shell necklaces

charles_leclerc When did you take that shot of me

yourusername when you were busy saying the stone formation kinda looks like the rock 🥱

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, pierregasly, maxverstappen, and 1,290,472 others

charles_leclerc Honeymoon stop 2: Iceland 🏞️ Beautiful place with my beautiful wife.

scuderiaferrari Have fun, Y/N and Charles! ❤️

arthurleclerc Me? An uncle?

yourusername no one said that, arthur 😆

forzacharles i too would wanna travel the world during my honeymoon with my significant other, all i need is a significant other

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly, yourbff, and 432,208 others

yourusername various shots from our many stops. adventures with you surely does not stop here. excited to spend forever with you, charles_leclerc 🤍

landonorris I am expecting my shell necklace any moment now

carlossainz55 Can't even wait for them to unpack?

charles_leclerc Pour toujours et à jamais, mon amour 💋 Forever and always, my love.

lovingleclerc MY FAVEEE COUPLE <3

sainzzlecs my parents exactly

------------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy

notes: its actually been so long since i did an imagine that's purely ig lmao i find it hard now to not include twitter panels but anyway! i hope you like this anon <3 lmk what u guys think hehe btw reqs for charles imagines are open hehe (pls lend some patience if u send one tho) thank you for reading 🤍

posting next would be the part 3 of split! lmk if anyone wants to be tagged hehe

758 notes · View notes

strandnreyes · 3 months

Text

love & laser tag

a little fic inspired by @guardian-angle22’s answer to the duo most likely to dominate laser tag because I couldn’t get an Owen/Carlos team up and sulky TK out of my head

“You ready to take down our friends?”

TK’s grin as he slides into the passenger seat is nearly contagious. Too bad Carlos is one statement away from making it disappear.

“Actually…” Carlos says slowly. He should’ve told TK earlier, but he has a feeling his husband isn’t going to like the news.

TK is already wary, squinting his eyes and looking at Carlos like he still trusts him with his life, just not at this very moment. “What?”

Carlos presses his lips together and then starts the car. “Your dad asked me to be on his team,” he says casually as he backs out of his space in the parking garage. He doesn’t have to take his eyes off the back up camera to know TK feels betrayed.

“What? We’re married. That’s like… automatic laser tag partners,” TK argues with a flap of his hand and Carlos chuckles.

“He asked me, TK. Was I supposed to say no?”

“Yes.”

Carlos shakes his head with a smile as he glances over at TK. In turn, TK slips his sunglasses down to his eyes. Though that could be blamed on the sun that’s now beating through the windshield. “Babe. Have you met me?”

He may have come a long way from constantly calling Owen sir or captain every time he sees him, but he was not about to shoot down Owen’s overly enthusiastic text asking if Carlos would like to be his partner for the 126 laser tag outing.

TK seems to agree because he slumps back into his seat. “Well, your nice southern boy manners are leaving me without a partner.”

“Good thing there are ten people coming so you’re guaranteed to have a partner,” Carlos retorts and TK finds his energy again, sitting up and letting his pout come out in full force.

“I wanted to be your partner,” he argues and he’s so adamant that Carlos is actually considering changing the plan. His husband is adorable and there are worse things than TK being upset that he doesn’t get to be with Carlos for something as unserious as laser tag. But then TK keeps talking. “You’re the only one here with actual training in this kind of thing.”

Scratch that. Carlos is definitely sticking with Owen. “Oh, I see. You don't want to be with me because you love me. You just want to use me.”

TK reaches over to pat his arm. “Now you’re getting it, baby.”

“I think I’m glad your dad asked me,” Carlos says as he navigates them through downtown traffic.

TK scoffs. “Jerk.” A moment later, after seemingly processing the statement, he asks, “When did he ask you?”

“He texted me.”

TK looks even more disgruntled and if Carlos weren’t driving, he’d lean over and kiss that look off his face. “Seriously? He had to secretly text you and steal you away from me?”

“I don’t know if it was a secret. And no one’s stealing anyone.”

“Whatever,” TK mutters. “You two have your fun. You’re going down.”

Carlos smiles and lays his hand on TK’s thigh. He keeps it there for the rest of the drive, but keeps any comments to himself. Truth be told, he’s fairly confident in his and Owen’s ability to take this thing home. No way he’s telling that to TK, though.

The car ride home can be described as icy at best.

TK hasn’t said a word since they all handed their vests back to the bored looking employee. He stalked to the car afterward and impatiently waited for Carlos to unlock the doors. Since then, he has ignored all of Carlos’ questions about stopping for food on the way home.

“TK,” Carlos says after the third unsuccessful attempt to engage him in conversation. He’s as far over in his seat as he can be and he’s staring out the window like he’s carsick and his wellness depends on it.

“What?” he mutters.

Carlos can’t help the small smile on his face. He’s glad TK isn’t looking at him to see it. “Are you seriously mad?”

“No.”

Carlos raises a brow. “Really? Your knees are glued to the door.” When TK doesn’t give him a follow up comment, Carlos grows even more bewildered. “The silent treatment? TK.”

TK whips around and points an accusatory finger at Carlos as he pulls back into the parking garage. “You targeted me.”

“That’s how the game works,” Carlos defends.

“No, you two… came after me right away,” TK huffs as he throws his hands up. They land back on his legs with a soft slap.

“Again, the point of the game—”

TK clenches his jaw. “Carlos, I swear to god.”

“Baby, I don’t know what you want me to say,” he says with a small laugh as he parks the car. He immediately turns to TK. “Your dad is very competitive. Do you remember the softball game?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

Carlos reaches across the console. When TK lets him take his hands, Carlos knows he’s not too deep in the dog house. “I’m sorry I shot you in laser tag and took you out of the game.”

“And?”

Carlos shakes his head. “I’m not going to apologize for winning.” TK groans and tries to pull away but Carlos holds tighter. “But… I promise to be your partner in life and all future laser tag games.”

TK actually looks satisfied with that answer and Carlos loves this ridiculous man. “Thank you.”

Carlos stretches forward, relieved when TK meets him halfway to share a kiss. He deepens it until he can ensure that TK isn’t still mad about the events of the afternoon.

“How about we order Thai?” Carlos suggests as he gets out of the car. He joins TK’s side, grabbing his hand and leading him inside.

“I don’t know, are you sure you don’t want to go get dinner with your new favorite Strand?”

“TK,” Carlos groans as drops his head back.

#911 lone star #tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes #911 lone star fic #jenfic

128 notes · View notes

quinloki · 1 year

Note

period sex and aftercare and /BUGGY/ are so big brained can i ask for those two plus dacryphilia with buggy and croco-baby and maybe a secret third character (your choice) if you feel up to it!!! Thank yooouuu!!! :o)

Alright, I got ONE MORE KINK ASK after this and I'll be all done with them \o/ Holy shit I can't believe how many asks I got for this (And how much fun I've had dealing with them.)

It helps a lot that I love kinks, kinky people, one piece characters, and learning/educating >.>

Alright we got Period Sex, Aftercare, Dacryphilia (the crying kink) - For Buggy and Sir Crocodile - and since you called him Croco-baby I'll add Donquixote Doflamingo to this.

I am surprised with as often as I feel like I've seen the crying kink pop up that I haven't already done it for ANY of these guy =O

And also yay \o/ AFTERCARE ASK \lol/

Go go alphabetical!

Buggy:

Period Sex - FUCK Yes - It's messy, it's red, it's kind of flashy actually, and Buggy loves it. You don't grow up on the most famous pirate ship in the world without being comfortable with all sorts of things. I feel like everyone under Roger's flag was, we'll say educated, and as such I can't see anyone from that crew being put off by menstruation.

Plus, orgasms are a cure for some, and there's one way to find out if it works for you to alleviate any cramping you may be feeling. You're going to be a complete mess by the time it's done though, Buggy's a little blood-lusty, surprisingly maybe, but he gets feral, and more so than with lipstick or makeup, he loves to "mark" you.

Aftercare - Oh god you don't even know - He is a terribly stressed clown, but I also think he's a big damned softie too. Buggy really is just as comfortable brushing your hair as he is ordering the crew around. Maybe more so, honestly. All that hair he has though, and that makeup he wears, the man's skin and hair care routines are on point as much as his eyeliner game. He will take care of you after every session, even if he subbing or bottoming some of it.

I think Buggy's desire to serve is almost as strong as Sanji's honestly. If you're an important person to him, he doesn't want to let you down, and he will devour your praises. But he's also The Captain™, and no matter what his role was, he's going to provide you proper aftercare.

Dacryphilia - No. - Sure sometimes tears happen. Sometimes you're so overwhelmed they slip out, sometimes you are chocking on the impressive package this man has. Sometimes tears happen, but Buggy doesn't like tears. He doesn't want to see you cry. If your makeup smears he wants it to be cause of sweat and pleasure and touch, not because you're crying. He's not even good at handling happy tears, let alone any other kind.

Buggy's more of let-him-do-the-crying-for-both-of-you type. He'd happily be the only one stressed to the ends of his capacity, than to have you worry. (Which probably worries you xD it's a bit of a cycle like that).

Sir Crocodile:

Period Sex - Yes - He doesn't mind the mess. The cause doesn't bother him. The only reason it doesn't rate higher is because it's hard to know if your period will heighten your pleasure or your pain - that lack of control bothers him, no matter how well or fast he can adjust accordingly.

He also doesn't see it as marking you the same way some others do. It's your blood, not his. It has a scent that isn't his or his cigars. If anything it's an annoyance because you should smell like him, and you shouldn't ever be hurt enough to smell like blood. You shouldn't be close enough to violence to even know what blood smells like, at least as far as he's concerned. But he'll soothe your cramps and discomfort in any way he can when it's that time.

Aftercare - Oh god you don't even know - As said before, Crocodile is all about control, and aftercare is required for control. You don't want to leave your little bottom/sub spiraling with all sorts of thoughts on their own. Whether we're talking toxic AU or not. Aside from the control though, he enjoys it. It's time to bond, to discuss, to connect. The more he knows about you the more control he can exert.

The more control you can hand over.

Plus, as beautiful as you are in his clutches, you're just as beautiful in his care.

Dacryphilia - FUCK Yes - Oh please cry for him. Sob in terror or pleasure or pain, he's not picky. Your face in tears is as lovely as your face contorted in pleasure. The only requirement is that those tears are his fault. No one else is allowed to make you cry.

As much as he will pull tears from you - and most sobs of pleasure as long as you're good - he'll kiss them away so sweetly. Brushing them aside so kindly, and with such praise.

Donquixote Doflamingo:

Period Sex - FUCK Yes - Not only is it a mess, it's a bloody mess. Doffy's a bit twisted and I can see him actually smearing the mess all over you while he's taking a break between railing you. He's not doing it so much to mark you, as he is to almost degrade you. He'll tell you how dirty you are, covered in blood and cum and tears - he 100% gets into degrading you during it.

Sometimes being on your period can make you more sensitive to pleasure, and sometimes it makes you more sensitive to pain - it doesn't matter as far as he's concerned. He'll get his pleasure at the least, and he'll enjoy turning you into a mess in the meantime.

Aftercare - Yes - Unless he's truly into you, don't take this as some kind of kindness. Aftercare is a good time to learn and bond, and for Doffy that generally means it's a great time to reinforce all his manipulations. It lets you think he cares (again, *maybe* he does), and pulls you closer into his grasp.

A truly skilled puppeteer doesn't necessarily hide the strings, he just makes sure you don't pay attention to them when you should be >.>

Dacryphilia - Oh god you don't even know - Cry for him, please. Crumble to pieces in pleasure, fear or pain - whatever it may be that you've earned at the point in time. If you're overwhelmed in pleasure he'll promise you such sweetness and devotion. If you're overwhelmed with fear he'll admonish you softly and forgive you magnanimously. If pain stains your face he'll have you begging for forgiveness, a forgiveness he'll bestow on you when he feels like it.

Perhaps after you've gone raw and hoarse from tears and begging.

Much like others who enjoy making their partners cry, it is a pleasure reserved entirely for him and no one else. Members of his immediate family may get an understanding pass, circumstances depending, but anyone beyond that is likely to be dealt with swiftly.

#kinky one piece head canon #buggy the clown #sir crocodile #donquixote doflamingo #x reader #buggy x reader #sir crocodile x reader #doflamingo x reader

468 notes · View notes

i-am-a-l0st-gh0st · 11 months

Text

Why do I let myself dream like this?-Wriothesley x reader Flufftober

"But perhaps its just my stupid head in end" T/w- reader has a bad past Summary- Wriothesly can see something is up with you. No matter how much you try and hide it.

Navigation

Taglist form!

Flufftober 2023 Masterlist

Wriothesley had loved you since the moment he saw you, despite you being a prisoner in the fortress of Menopide. He had done his best to keep his distance from you but couldn’t help but see you everywhere at the cafeteria, the boxing ring and the workplace. How you had caught it continued to baffle him, maybe it was your beauty or your kindness. How could someone like you get sent down here?

Wriothesley had done a little background research on you as he does with everyone. He found out a few unexpected things about you. You were orphaned at a young age and sent to live with a foster family who wasn’t very good. So you took to the streets. Stealing and fighting just too by, and somehow through all of that you remained happy and cheerful. Or so he thought.

One night a fellow inmate caught you crying, and soon many others were giving you pity looks. Including the duke. So you kept your head down and kept working. No one would bother you right as long as you kept to yourself.

“Hey, it's y/n right?”

You jumped from the deep voice that came behind you. “A-ah yeah..” Ah shit it was the duke you could hardly squeak out words

“Could I speak to you for a moment? In my office?”

“Of course sir…”

You followed closely behind him and as you were walking you could see people whisper things about the two of you. Maybe some secret affair was going on like some thought. Or maybe he really did just want to talk to you.

In his office sat a desk in the middle of the room. With four bookshelves, two on either side, about a third of the way up the wool. In Between the middle bookshelves, there was something that looked to be a massive cog on the wall. A staircase leading somewhere also was right side as you walked in. The office itself was a tad bit plant but overall comforting.

“What was it you needed to talk to me about sir?”

“No need for the for formalities, just Wriothesley will do. And just something in regards to what the other inmates have been saying recently,”

He looked you directly in your e/c eyes and he said: “I know you are not okay y/n. I've done some reading on you and from what I can see, you’ve had a rough go.”

Tears started to well up in your eyes, “Sir im fine-”

“I can see you are not, and you know if you do need to talk I am here.”

“Thank you kindly.”

“Now how would you like to stay for some tea.”

This was the closest Wriothesley was going to get to a date with you. Or was it.

“That would be lovely thank you.”

Taglist

@pandragonsoul

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #gn reader #fluff #genshin fluff #wriothesly #wriothesly x reader #wriothsley #wriothesley x reader

332 notes · View notes

violet-1atte · 1 year

Text

Kinktober Day Ten: Praise - Minho/Jisung

Tags: Power imbalance, top!Minho, bottom!Jisung, boss!Minho, secretary!Jisung, anal, office sex, semi-public sex, light dom/sub

AO3 Link

It all started with two words.

Good boy.

Jisung was in the office when it happened. Minho, whom Jisung was the secretary of, asked him if he could grab him one of his files on his way out, and when Jisung did, Minho had locked eyes with him and said it.

They echoed in Jisung’s head all day, making him dizzy every time he thought of them. Minho’s voice, so soft, so sweet. Had he known what he was doing to Jisung?

Jisung didn’t think so. At least, not at first. He was his boss after all. He certainly wouldn’t make a move on him, no matter how much Jisung longed for him to. Jisung was just a pervert and Minho didn’t like him like that. Right?

But then Minho said it again.

Jisung was staying late in the office because he desperately wanted to get ahead on his work. Minho honestly didn’t give him as much work as some other people gave their secretaries and sometimes Jisung felt he got off easy, but there was still a lot to do. And honestly he wanted to please Minho. Minho had a lot of work to do too, and if Jisung could lighten the burden on his shoulders even a bit he would.

When he finished with all the work for the night, he headed to Minho’s office with a stack of papers in hand and a tired but satisfied smile on his face.

“I’ve finished all the reports for this week, Mr. Lee,” he said as he entered the office. “I also scheduled out your calendar through the third. And I have a draft of your outline for the committee meeting.”

Jisung reveled in the way Minho’s tired features lit up as listed off the things he had accomplished. He did well.

“All that extra work?” Minho asked rhetorically, tilting his head. “Good boy, Jisung-ah. I’m impressed. You’ve been doing such a good job lately.”

Jisung really had to be tired, judging by the way he was entirely unable to suppress the whimper that came up his throat at Minho’s words. Good boy, good boy, good boy. He was doing good.

“Uh-uhm, thank you, s-sir,” Jisung stuttered, gulping audibly. There was no way Minho hadn’t heard the way he had whimpered at the simple praise. Only two words, and said by his boss no less. Oh, he was doomed. Minho would find out his dirty secrets, how often he fantasized about his boss grabbing his tiny waist and bending him over the desk and fucking him raw. He would know and Jisung would get fired and–

“Han Jisung.” Minho’s low voice cut into Jisung’s stream of thoughts and he jumped, realizing he had just been standing there.

“Uh, yes sir?” he asked hesitantly. Minho’s eyes were half lidded as he tilted his head to the side.

“Did you need something else from me?” he asked.

Jisung gulped and shook his head. “N-no sir,” he said quickly.

Minho rose from his seat and clasped his hands behind his back as he walked toward Jisung. Jisung felt a shiver go down his spine at the look Minho was giving him. It was quizzical and curious but there was something else burning in his eyes that made Jisung want to crawl under his desk and hide.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly. He was close enough that he could smell Minho’s expensive cologne and he could hear him inhale and exhale softly. Jisung’s throat felt tight and his mouth dry and his heart was racing.

“I–I don’t know,” he said, now unsure of anything.

“Do you perhaps want a reward?” Minho asked, reaching forward to brush his fingers over Jisung’s tie. Jisung’s breath caught in his throat as Minho licked his rosebud lips. “For how good you’ve been lately…” Jisung melted further at the praise and his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. There was no way Minho couldn’t tell how affected he was by the words.

“I–what kind of reward?” Jisung asked slowly, biting his lip. “I haven’t done anything much…”

Minho’s lips turned up in a smirk. “I think you know what kind,” he said with a hum. “And don’t pretend you haven’t done much. You’ve done nothing but gone above and beyond with work. The best secretary I could ever ask for.”

Another whimper made its way up Jisung’s throat and he shrank back, his cheeks burning hot, his skin tingling like his limbs had fallen asleep. “Ahh, there it is,” Minho said. His gaze darkened and Jisung felt caged. It was the best feeling in the world.

“There what is?” he asked dumbly and Minho laughed.

“Don’t play coy with me, Jisungie. I’ve seen how you react to getting praise from me. I just wanted to test it out. At first I thought I was just projecting…imagining what you wanted because of what I wanted. But now I see I was right.” He gave Jisung a pleased look and Jisung’s world spun.

“You know?” he asked. “And…you want me?”

“You don’t even fucking know,” Minho growled and Jisung’s lips parted with a gasp. “So what do you say about that reward? Haven’t you been good enough for it?”

Jisung felt lightheaded as he nodded. “Yes, yes, I want it, I’ve been good, promise, always work hard for you, just want to please you,” he said, all his admissions spilling out in a waterfall of words.

“Good. That’s all I needed to hear.”

Minho’s hand curled around the back of Jisung’s neck and his other hand grabbed his waist firmly before he pulled him into a dizzying kiss. Jisung gasped against his mouth as Minho pulled him closer and tilted his head, slotting their lips together in a deep kiss. There was nothing slow or sweet about the way Minho kissed–it was all passion and it made Jisung’s stomach pulse with jolts of pleasure and his cock twitched in interest. Minho squeezed Jisung’s waist and licked along the seam of Jisung’s lips to taste him. Jisung didn’t even put up a fight, allowing him in without any resistance. His tongue tasted sweet on Jisung’s and he wanted more, so much more. He wrapped his arms around Minho and continued deepening the wet slide of their mouths, kissing as best as he could. He wanted Minho to like it. He was to hear praise even for how he kissed. For how pliant and willing he was, for how good he made Minho feel.

When Minho pulled away Jisung gasped, panting for air. He had nearly forgotten to breathe through his nose as Minho kissed him, too aroused to focus on anything except for Minho’s breaths mingling with his own and the feeling of his soft lips melting against his.

“Should’ve known you’d be as good at kissing as you are at everything else,” Minho mused and Jisung preened at the praise. “How do you want your reward, Sungie?” Minho asked and Jisung shuddered.

“I want–I want–” he didn’t even have to think about what he wanted but he still hesitated for a second before quietly saying, “I want you to fuck me. Over your desk. Please.”

He saw and felt Minho’s sharp intake of breath and the way his grip on him tightened. “Good job using your words, jagiya. Now be a good boy for me and take off these pants and bend over the desk for me.”

Jisung was quick to oblige, fumbling with his belt before he tugged his slacks down over the swell of his ass. He was glad the desk was so near because he was too eager to fully take off his pants. He rested his elbows on the desk and arched his back and spread his legs so that his ass and hole were on perfect display for his boss. He felt Minho’s gaze on him and he burned with need.

“Fuck. So pretty,” Minho groaned, stepping up behind him. He placed his hands on Jisung’s cheeks and spread his fingers over them. He squeezed and spread his cheeks apart and Jisung’s hole fluttered. “You’ve got the prettiest ass I’ve ever seen, fuck, with a face like that I should’ve known.”

Jisung’s mouth fell open in a wanton moan and pushed his ass further into Minho’s touch. “P-please, Mr. Lee, please fuck me,” he whimpered, his head clouded with a heavy fog of lust. Minho’s hands felt like hot coals on his skin as he rubbed his asscheeks and every squeeze of his fingers sent jolts of pleasure through his stomach.

“Such a good boy, asking so politely. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get fucked well,” he said sweetly.

“Ahh–w-wait, do you have anything?” Jisung asked, a little bit of his brain power coming back to him in a brief moment of clarity. Minho tilted his head and then a look of realization came over his face and he nodded.

“I do. One second, pretty, I have stuff in my bag. Stay there.” He gave Jisung’s ass a pat and then went to shuffle through his bag for a moment until he came back with a small, travel-sized bottle of lube and a condom. The condom he set down on the desk next to Jisung, but the lube he kept in his hand. He placed his free hand on Jisung’s hip and squeezed. “Can you do something for me, Jisung-ah?” he asked.

“Anything,” Jisung said. He would do anything. He was practically in heaven right now.

“Reach back and spread yourself apart while I finger you. I want a good view of that pretty hole of yours.”

Jisung gasped and his entire body began to heat up, going red from his face and all the way down. Minho’s request was downright filthy, and the tone he said it in even moreso. But Jisung would do anything to be good, even if he would feel so exposed in the process. The thought of being so exposed sent a thrill up his spine anyway. So he pressed his chest to the desk, his cheek squished on the wood, and reached behind himself to spread his cheeks. He closed his eyes and his hole fluttered around nothing, Minho’s gaze making his stomach twist in tight knots of heat.

“So fucking perfect, so sexy, Jisung-ah,” Minho groaned. Jisung bit his lip and moaned in the back of his throat. Every word of praise made his insides tingle and his legs weak. “What a pretty little hole.” Jisung keened in response, legs shaking a little.

Minho proceeded to open the small bottle of lube, pouring the slick substance onto his fingers. Jisung’s whole body jerked when he felt the press of Minho’s fingers against his waiting hole. He didn’t tease, instead pushing in a first finger in one go. Jisung’s hole clenched around him and he moaned. His back arched further so he was pressed against the desk but it allowed Minho to press his finger deeper. “Look at that,” Minho hummed. He rubbed the rim of Jisung’s hole with his thumb as he pumped his other finger in and out. “Practically sucking me in. Looks like your hole is as perfect as your ass.”

“Hnng p-please sir,” Jisung moaned. “More, please.”

“Well this is supposed to be your reward.” Minho didn’t hesitate after that to add another finger, pressing two inside Jisung almost as easily as the first. Jisung’s hands on his ass slipped a little at the intrusion and he struggled to hold himself up, shudders wracking his body as Minho began to scissor his fingers. The wet squelch of lube and Minho fucking into Jisung’s hole filled the office and if there were anyone else to walk by, they were almost guaranteed to hear. Thankfully, they were the only ones in there.

“You take my fingers so well,” Minho praised, pushing in a third after a few moments. Jisung’s only response was a gasp followed by a fucked out ahhh. His hands slipped more and Minho tutted, replacing one of Jisung’s hand with his free one. He bit his lip, unable to resist delivering a squeeze to the soft globe. “You really do have such a perfect ass, holy shit. I’m gonna have to eat you out sometime,” he said. Electricity zipped through Jisung’s veins.

“Please.” Minho’s words implied that there would be another time. This wasn’t the last time he’d have him.

Minho fingered him for a few more moments, spreading his fingers as much as Jisung’s twitching hole could take. Jisung was barely coherent when he added his pinky finger, a litany of moans falling from his open mouth while Minho showered praises on him. His eyes were practically crossed, a line of drool running down from the corner of his mouth to the desk. Minho was ruining him and he hadn’t even fucked him yet. Even just his fingers felt better than anything Jisung had ever taken, and his praises were like daggers of arousal in his gut.

When Minho finally undid his belt and unzipped the fly of his pants, Jisung was a whiny, moaning mess. The wait while he put on the condom was torture. The press of his cock to his hole felt like lightning and the moan he released was practically a shout. “Ohhh fuck,” Minho groaned, eyes closing as Jisung’s hole engulfed his cock. “You feel so fucking good. Feels like you were made for my cock. Look at you.”

Jisung inhaled shakily. His hands had long since fallen down and he was gripping the edge of the desk now. Minho grabbed Jisung’s trim waist with one hand while he used the other to press down on Jisung’s spine, causing his chest to be pressed firmly against the desk. “You look so fucking gorgeous all fucked out like this. Holy shit.”

Jisung panted, pupils blown. “P-please, s-sir, Minho, fuck me. Re-reward your good b-boy.”

Minho let out a sound akin to a growl and his grip on his waist tightened. He pulled his cock all the way out and for a second Jisung thought he decided not to fuck him, but then he slammed back inside of him. The force punched a broken gasp out of Jisung and Minho set an unruly pace, fucking into him like his life depended on it. Jisung’s cock bobbed between his legs, hitting against the desk with a mix of pain and pleasure with every other thrust.

Minho continued showering him with praises–so pretty, sexy baby, taking my cock so well, such a good boy–and Jisung could only respond with choked moans and whimpers. With every push of Minho’s hips against his ass, Jisung’s cock twitched and he moaned like he was in heat.

After a moment, Minho changed the angle of his hips to hit directly into Jisung’s prostate and pleasure rolled through his stomach in waves. He clenched around Minho and heard him mutter a string of curse words under his breath. Minho was becoming less coherent as well, words of praise fading off into moans and breathy pants as he fucked Jisung closer to his orgasm.

Jisung could feel himself getting close, and he made his best attempt to warn Minho. “Guh-gonna, nghh, c-come,” he whimpered, his grip on the desk turning white knuckled.

Minho sped up his thrusts and reached around him to wrap his hand around his leaking cock. “Alright, pretty boy. Show your boss how pretty you are when you come then.”

“Oh f-fuck.” With those words and a twist of Minho’s hand, Jisung’s body went rigid and his cock jerked, spilling cum all along his stomach and the side of the desk. Minho didn’t stop fucking him through his orgasm, even as he went limp like a doll in his hold. He just held him up by his waist.

Minho deepened his thrusts, keeping up his exhausting pace until his hips stuttered and he gave two more slow, deep thrusts, and came inside the condom. Jisung babbled incoherent as Minho pushed his hips flush against his ass, almost like he was fucking his cum deeper inside of him. Maybe someday.

Quiet breathing filled the office as they both caught their breath and Jisung came back down to earth. Minho waited until he seemed alive enough before pulling out of him and tossing the condom in the trashed. Jisung remained boneless against the desk and Minho let out a little chuckle as he came back to him. “You were so good,” he said softly. Jisung’s eyes fluttered open and he blushed.

“Thank you. You were–you took good care of me,” Jisung mumbled shyly. Minho smiled and rubbed over his waist.

“Good. That’s exactly what good boys deserve, hm?”

“Don’t call me that or I’ll get hard again,” Jisung whined, a pout forming on his lips.

“Oh no, I definitely wouldn’t want that,” Minho said playfully. Jisung swatted at him weakly.

He took a few more seconds to regain his strength and then slowly pushed himself up from the desk. Minho helped him steady himself and he mumbled a quiet, “Thanks.” He was holding a few tissues as well and helped Jisung get cleaned up. They would definitely have to disinfect the desk but that was a job for another day.

“Do you drive here, Jisung-ah?” Minho asked as Jisung gathered up his stuff to leave. Jisung shook his head.

“No, I take the bus. Why?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Not tonight,” Minho responded. “I’ll take you home.”

Jisung’s eyes widened and he quickly shook his head. “No, that's okay! I don’t want to impose, sir–”

“Shh.” Minho held a finger to Jisung’s lips. “Let me reward my secretary for all his hard work, okay? Wait for me outside while I get my stuff.”

Jisung nodded meekly. “Okay,” he whispered. He felt a little shy all of the sudden but he couldn’t help the way he practically skipped away from the office once the door was shut, a small smile on his face.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober day 10 #minho smut #jisung smut #minsung #minsung smut #minsung fic #skz fic #skz fanfiction #skz smut #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids smut #smut #fanfiction #praise

240 notes · View notes

the-fiction-witch · 9 months

Text

Young Love P2

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating SMUT

Requested I NEED part 2. I love it. Must need part twoooo This is amazing! Waiting for part 2 part 2 plsss ❤️❤️ Part 2 please I can't wait for part 2 ❤ Part 2 plsss I it's so cute I couldn't help myself but laugh because I would have done the same thing to my friends

I sat at the table on my third drink since I took my seat, My family of course was eager to ask questions but I didn't want to speak. Maybe this was all a terrible idea.

"So Dr Dawkins, how long have you been seeing our sweet Y/n?" My mother asked,

"Ohh Almost a year now, isn't that right my darling?" He smirked in my direction, his hand coming to settle on my thigh

I glared but smiled and nodded, before I quickly grabbed his hand and crushed it as I forced his hand away,

"oww" He complained to quiet for anyone at the table to notice, "Don't be vicious darling." he whispered,

"Ohh that's just lovely," Magnolia smiled, "Reminds me of our own courtship." she smiled at her husband Sam,

"And tell me do you have intentions to continue with my daughter?" My father asked,

"Ohh yes, certainly sir." He nodded, "We were thinking of a spring wedding weren't we my darling?" He smiled leaning on his hand and blowing me a kiss, But I stomped on his foot under the table, He shot me a look as everyone talked about themselves "I'm doing what you asked."

"Dail it back loverboy."

"So? Do you two think soon we can expect splendid news?" my mother asked and the table silenced,

"Yes, very soon I'm sure." He answered,

"Ohh wonderful!" She smiled,

"And of course, we'd be expecting young ones?" My father offered,

"Ohh Absolutely, we had discussed it, of course, four children we were thinking my darling?"

I glared at him with rage "Yes... Dear."

"Wonderful! Young love is so sweet and beautiful now we only have little melody and all our sweet little ones will have a love of their own," My mother smiled, "Ohh how I remember the moonlit strolls, the sweet shared cookies, the secret words whispered at windows, the thrill of love bites hidden from others eyes, of muffling the lustful sounds of intimacy behind pillows for fear of walking the house, the unbridled torment and ecstasy of young love."

I held my breath trying not to answer, my parents had always been like this so affectionate for each other that they often failed to realize that's not the sort of thing you tell your children about when you are their age.

"But of course, you two must be well aware of such things,"

"...yes absolutely," He nodded, "Your uhhh" he coughed," Your daughter and I are well aware."

"Wonderful, and of course now you are no longer a secret Dr Dawkins, you are welcome to stay the night with y/n so long as you two just let us know." my mother smiled,

"We wouldn't want any sudden interruptions now would we?" My father added,

"I- I Can?" He gulped,

"Of course, we trust a doctor to know the best ways to... help our daughter," my father winked at Jack,

"Yes, of course." Jack nodded shooting me a glance as if to ask 'Are they serious?' and I just nodded in return, "well that uhh that will be nice won't it darling"

"Yes... it will" I rolled my eyes

Once dinner was done I very quickly took Jack back to my room mostly to try and hide, Immediately I jumped on my bed and hid my face away,

"Your uhhh your parents are weird."

"Yeah, I know..."

"They have literally only met me for dinner, and they are completely fine with me banging you."

"Jack, don't call it that."

"Having sex with you then. They are... really accommodating..."

"They are weird."

"yeah they are... and it's bloody weird, I feel kinda bad I'm not having sex with you they seemed like they really wanted me too, I feel like I'm a disappointment all of a sudden."

"the deal was cookies and Beer Jack I'm not sleeping with you."

"Can we amend the deal?"

"To?"

"Every time I need to pretend to be your boyfriend, you have to sleep with me."

"No."

"Then the deal is off and I'm telling them-" he said heading to the door

"No no no!" I stood and grabbed his arm, "ughhhh fine! One orgasm per performance."

"Not one orgasm, sex."

"Ohh sex is finished after you orgasm"

"Not necessarily, One orgasm could be you just pawn me off with a handjob and my performances are worth way more than that."

"Fine... Sex. Per performance."

"Thank you, I will accept a blow job."

"I bet you would, it's just easier for me to sleep with you at least then I can lay down and my jaw doesn't get tired."

"Good, we have a deal?"

"Do I still owe you a pound a kiss?"

"Let's say a kiss for a kiss how about that?"

"Fine."I sighed,

"Good, we're agreed then, Now? where's my reward for such a stellar performance darling?" He cooed wrapping his arms around my waist,

"I'm really gonna hate you aren't I?"

"Yeah you are, but you can't argue 'cause you wanted this." He smirked, "You asked me to pretend to be your boyfriend, so I'm being your boyfriend," he smirked grabbing my arse,

"Fine, let's just get this over with. And don't be loud I already know my parents are assuming there fucking in here I'd rather it not be confirmed," I sighed moving to the bed,

"Grumpy little girly today,"

"Just get this over with Jack." I sighed,

"Alright, how do you want me darling?" He smirked crawling on my bed, "I get to hold your hips and thrust your face into your pillow? do I get to hold your legs around my neck? or am I gonna get you bouncing on my cock?"

"You get to work with the side while I lay down with my book," I told him laying on my side and grabbing a book, He rolled his eyes as he slipped his waistcoat and shirt off laying down beside me and wrapping his arms around me and kissing my shoulder, He took my book from my hand and tossed it to the side "Hey!"

"You're not going to need to entertain yourself with me, darling," he cooed as leant down to nibble and kiss my neck tugging down my dress to expose my shoulder to him his kisses getting more intense and lustful slightly biting,

"Don't bite Jack i don't need my mother pointing them out,"

"Aww come on? it'll be cute, I want them to look at you, see your cute little hickies and say humm look what Doctor Dawkins did to Y/n"

"One Hickie." I warn,

"I better make it count then," he growled, he kissed up my neck and found a spot I couldn't hide he made sure to nibble and kiss it first before he bit me like a goddamn vampire from one of my romance novels leaving a hard dark hickie on my neck I did my best not to gasp but it was fairly difficult given his attention his hand quickly undid my dress and slipped his hand under the now looser fabric to grab my breast "Ohh perky little girly aren't you?"

"Hey, I said sex I said nothing about my boobs."

"Boobs are a very important part of sex, come on I just wanna make you feel good too why do you keep trying to stop me?" he cooed between kisses, "ohhh your body doesn't wanna stop me?" he growled as his hand grabbing and groping my breast had caused my nipple to get a little hard "Listen to your body darling," He growled tugging on my nipple to make it even harder before pinching it between his fingers and rolling the tip between his fingers

"Ughhh!" I squealed before clamping a hand over my mouth

"Awww see, you are enjoying it." He smirked, "Humm imagine your family are tucking themselves in bed right now, all of them can hear you screaming, and they all know what we are doing." he smirked,

"There just assuming."

"True, so even if you don't make any noise you know your whole family is sitting in their beds knowing I'm about to bang your cute little body,"

"Jack don't call it that."

"Bang, fuck, sex, whatever word you wanna call it... " He rolled his eyes tugging up my dress till he exposed my skin "Ohhh now that's a little juicer then I expected." he smirked smacking my arse

"Hey! Jack! don't I'll-"

"Aww you don't want me to make you too sore? Don't worry darling I'm gonna make you so sore your cute little arse can't even sit down to dinner with them tomorrow." He smirked forcing down my panties and moving his hand to stroke my clit, Immediately I bit my pillow not wanting to give him the satisfaction that I was enjoying it, "Awww what a cute little girly, such a pretty little pussy, open your legs or I'll throw you on your knees."

I knew I couldn't argue so I moved my leg to let him work,

"humm what a good girly," he cooed undoing his own pants and tugging them down, he gave himself a few gentle strokes before he slipping himself inside me "Ughhh fuck! Ummm! you should have made me your fake boyfriend years ago" he growled as he held my hips firmly digging his nails into my skin as he aggressively thrusted,

"And why is that?" I asked trying so hard not to scream as I felt the pleasure of him moving

"cause I've been waiting to fuck you since I met you, if I'd known faking being your boyfriend for one night was all it took to get up in my little girly, Humm your family would want me marrying you by now after all these years." He growled, often biting and kissing my neck with the movement of his hips.

"Ughhh Jack," I began to whine from the overwhelming pleasure my eyes often rolling back,

"Awww see you do love me," he smirked, "Don't worry little girly, I'll make you cum" he smirked rubbing on my clit as he thrusted my bed creaking and banging against the wall from our movements, "Ummm listen to that fucking noise your parents must think there banging like rabbits." he growled, "Then again, I guess we are aren't we."

"Jack faster please-"

"Yeah? Ughh you sound so good begging me for more, But... I can't, you feel you good little girly" He began to slow so I gritted my teeth, I hated admitting it, I hated what I was about to do, and the endless satisfaction it would give him,

.... I'd never live what I'm about to do down...

But I'm not stopping, I pushed his hips gently turning us so he laid on his back and I sat on top of him gently moving my hips at the speed I wanted him at,

"Ohhh fuck! you bad bad girl!" He growled grabbing my hips to guide me to bounce on him, I admit he looked amazing laid on my bed in only his shirt, his hair slightly sweaty and out of place, leant on his elbows against my pillows moaning under me as I worked, "Ughhhhh fuck! yeah? you want me darling? I'm not even your real boyfriend and you need me so badly?"

"You are a cocky little bastard, Jack,"

"Yeah, I am. You seem to be enjoying my cock enough though," he smirked, "Ummmm! why the hell did I spend so long playing card with you, I should have been bending you over the table"

"You bend me over the table I'll bite you."

"That a promise little girly?" he smirked slapping my arse as I got faster and faster, "Or maybe you'll just feel me inside you and remember how good I make you feel."

"Ughh just shut up and move Jack!" I yelled moving his hand to my clit, he happily began rubbing on it again his other hand grabbed my dress almost ripping it to force it away enough to get at my breast which he happily groped and plaid with my nipple, "Ughhhhh!"

"Ughhhh fuck you sound so good!" he groaned, "humm what would your family say they saw you like this, their cute little daughter bouncing on her doctor?" he gasped,

"Knowing my parents... they'd probably correct us on something."

"annoyingly I think you're kinda right." he joked,

but I reached my peak biting his neck as I did which in turn got him to his own edge burying himself deep inside me

"UGhhhhhhhhhh! Yes! yes! Y/n!"

I did my best riding it out as he all but collapsed against bed until I couldn't move anymore and I fell face-first into my pillow on the other side of the bed, we gasped and tried to regain our composure,

"I'm really gonna enjoy this arrangement..."

"Ohh shut up Jack..."

"Love you too darling."

I yawned and forced myself up, my body still knotted up with Jack as after all that had happened last night we just kinda collapsed and slept in one another arms, still in our clothes from last night, I forced myself up and rubbed my eyes for a moment looking at Jack as he slept, humm... for such a cocky dick, he can be kinda cute when he's sleeping, I smiled a plaid with his hair a little which didn't even make him stir, so I moved and gave his lips a little kiss, but as I pulled back he opened his eyes,

"Morning,"

"AHh! Christ you made me jump!" I complained, "I didn't know you were up,"

"I'm awake... just about."

"Morning,"

"Morning," He smiled,

"Particular reason you're still here?" I asked climbing out of bed,

"I'm meant to be your boyfriend, aren't I? Boyfriends sleep over sometimes."

"Do they?" I asked starting to change out of my dress from yesterday,

"They do, they cosy and cuddle up with your girlfriends"

"weird,"

"We did have sex last night."

"I know, I'm still sore and... sticky."

"Yeah sorry about that, I'd have pulled out but... you were a little too vicious with me."

"Still I'd much prefer we have sex and you bugger off."

"That's not how boyfriends work Y/n."

"Yeah well, I don't like boyfriends, hence the whole point of you faking to be mine."

he smirked looking at me

"What?"

"You're really wondering why I'm looking at you when you stood at the foot of the bed without your dress?"

I rolled my eyes, "You're a doctor I don't care, you've seen a hundred naked ladies, plus anything important I have you saw last night anyway."

"True." He smirked, "What is your issue with boyfriends?"

"Fictional men are better, you ever read anything by Jane Austin? Ever. Trust me after Frederick Wentworth or Fitzwilliam Darcy." I explained, "You can't go back to the chaos of real men."

"You can't fuck a book y/n."

"I would if I could Jack." I said getting a clean dress for the day, but he moved to the end of the bed not bother to tug his pants up and grabbing my waist to pull me to stand naked between his legs

"That what you want little girly? You want me to quote Jane Austin at you, to read you a Shakespearian sonnet, to make you feel loved?"

"... couldn't hurt Jack," I admit,

He smirked kissing my sternum as he spoke "In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

I gasped doing my best not to squeal as I looked down at him,

"Like that darling?"

"Eep." I squeaked,

"Aww you're so cute little girly," He smirked, he slapped my arse and continued to kiss my chest and breasts, "You're cute when you let the hard shell down a little."

I was about to speak but my bedroom door opened to my mother, Immediately I grabbed the sheet to cover my naked body leaving Jack to grab the hem of his shirt to cover himself too, but it was kinda too late, "Mother!"

"oh, do excuse me. Breakfast is ready." She smiled, and for a moment her eyes looked over me she obviously saw what was happening before I grabbed the sheet but she looked carefully now to ensure she saw exactly what was happening, and for a moment her eyes lingered on Jack a moment as if she was.. inspecting him, "Will you be joining us Dr Dawkins?"

"Uhhhh yeah, yeah I will," he nodded sheepishly given he not only got caught half-naked by my her but also making out with the breasts of her naked daughter,

"Good, well I'll be off then," She smiled leaving the room and shutting the door behind her,

"she saw us?"

"Yeah, she definitely saw us." I sighed, "Fuck."

#thomasbrodiesangster #tbs smut #thomas sangster imagine #tbs imagines #thomas brodie sangster imagine #tbs imagine #thomas brodie sangster smut #thomas brodie sangster #thomas sangster #tbs #jackdawkins #jack #jack dawkins #the artful dodger #thearttfuldodger #theartfuldogger

108 notes · View notes