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lixies-favorite-cookie · 2 months

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hang the moon ◦ l.f

-going through the ages of time with felix, from when you told him you were pregnant to seeing him braid your baby's hair.

@feelikecinderella I hope you like it it isn't something I usually write, but I adored writing it so thank you so so much for the request ♡

Paring ◦ Dad!Lee Felix x Pregnant!Reader

Words ◦ 4,506(this was originally supposed to be 1,000 words 💀)

Genre ◦ Fluff, Dad!Lixie headcanons, MY FIRST REQUEST MWAHAHA.

Warnings ◦ Felix being the sweetest man in the whole world, super unrealistic ngl, descriptions about pain, crying, reader being kinda moody, sexual content but its literally like two lines and it just says that you give him head and him giving you an orgasm no details at all, felix being hot asf, felix being a model father, a few big bad fuck words, I'm 19 i dont know how pregnancy works so bear with me babes💀, I know their has to be at LEAST 12 spelling errors, not edited (forgive me I have no time) uhhh nothing else I don't think

A/N ◦ I love this so much it was so cute and I stand by the fact if my husband isn't like this with kids I'm not having one (also is anybody else traumatized by their present absent dads my dad was always in my life and I love him to death great father terrible husband never did anything to help my mom out which makes me really scared to have kids can anyone relate?) I just want to apologize in advance for my rambling tendency please forgive me 🙏 Also this isn't in actual bullet point because Tumblr is stupid.

~cookiecreates 🍪

Mommy-to-be!Reader who gets that feeling all mothers get when another body is currently being knitted together inside them. The month you missed your period also helped with the suspicion, but the three pregnancy tests with two thick pink lines screaming at you really confirm your hypotheses that you are indeed pregnant, and it is 100% Felixes.

Mommy-to-be!Reader who is first overwhelmed by all the thoughts that have gathered in your head—the preparations, the options—if you want to keep the baby or not, what are you going to do if he doesn't want to? Oh no, you didn't think about what you would do if he didn't want to keep the baby. How would he react? Your overwhelm quickly changed to an anxiety that bubbled in your stomach when you thought of all the possible outcomes of what could happen to your relationship because of one simple accident. No matter how secure your relationship with Felix is, it's terrifying to think that he might leave, seeing his dreams of being an idol as more important than being a dad.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who was just sitting on the couch fiddling with his computer, when you walk in with your tear-stained face and trembling hands, he immediately goes to comfort mode. "What is it, darling whats w-" he stops in his tracks, seeing the test in your hands and definitely seeing the thick pink lines that tell him you're pregnant...

Daddy-to-be!Felix whose immediate reaction is to gather you up in his arms and twirl you around in the air, overwhelmed by a feeling of unadulterated joy. His whole face is lit up like a Christmas tree, really making his sunshine title shine through.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who can’t really believe it, “Your pregnant.” “Apparently” “Oh my gosh, we're pregnant.” “I don't think that's how that works.” You chuckle, still in mild denial. “Oh yeah, it is part of my DNA is currently inside of you.” He stops, really letting it sink in. “Holy shit, we're going to have a baby! You don't think either of you has ever smiled so big in your lives.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who goes and tells the group the next day, too ecstatic to keep it to himself.

Uncle-to-be!Group who congratulates the hell out you and Felix, promising to take care of the baby any time you two need a babysitter. Cue spontaneous gift-giving as well; one day you find a stroller on your front porch from Chan, a box of baby clothes from Han, and a diaper bag from Minho, all on the same day.

Uncle-to-be!Chan who promises to spoil the hell out of your little sunshine, letting Felix rant about all his fantasies, how he's going to be the best dad, how you're going to be a wonderful mom, how he's going to buy her the cutest clothes, and how- Chan loves Felix, but he stopped listening after the 25th compliment about how wonderful you are doing with your pregnancy.

Mommy-to-be!Reader who figures out that Han's girlfriend, your best friend, is also pregnant, so you won't have to deal with your pregnancy alone, while Felix is understanding and supportive; he is a guy after all, and some things like how your boobs hurt and are oddly getting bigger, he just won't understand, and that's okay because at least you have a friend who you can rant about your boobies too.

Mommy-to-be!Reader who promises not to tell anyone about Han's girlfriend's pregnancy. Due to her request, she and Han have already agreed that they are planning a very big event to tell the boys, and she doesn't want it to be spoiled because of your loose lips.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who's so gentle with you, even during the days when your bump is so little, it's almost nonexistent, always asking if you're okay or if you need some food, water, or if the baby is okay? Is she hungry? Maybe thirsty? You have to remind him that the baby is nothing more than a gathering of cells right now and can't partially talk.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who guarantees that your baby is a girl and no amount of convincing can persuade him he's definitely projecting.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who would refuse to let you get up from nuzzling his face in your practically flat stomach. "Felix, I have to pee." "Do you want me to carry you to the bathroom?" He looks up from your tummy with big boba eyes. You deadpan. "Yeah, okay, you're right. You've got this." Basically, giving you little praise hand emojis🙌, even though his worried eyes stare you down all the way to the bathroom.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who sends 'how are my girls doing' texts every day at practice, "You know, you don't actually know if it's a girl or not." "I have a feeling."

Daddy-to-be!Felix who treasures you even as you sob into his chest about your nightmares from the Euphoria TikToks you've watched about parents whose relationships crumbled because of having a baby, he dusts kisses over your face, whispering promise after promise on your skin that no matter what relationship won't crumble, this baby is going to make your relationship stronger, closer, better. He loves you too much, just like how he would love you if you were a worm and how he would kiss the prettiest person in the room with the choice between you or the prettiest person in the room because the prettiest person in the room is you (all true conversations you've had in between sobbing sessions).

Daddy-to-be!Felix who deals with all your shit with a smile on his face because he understands how hard it is to carry a fuckabigillion pound baby in your belly, so if you feel like yelling at him because he's home late, then crying in his arms because you regret yelling at him, begging him for forgiveness, he'll do both gladly. Not the forgiveness part; he doesn't forgive you because you didn't need it; he was never mad at you in the first place.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who starts getting concerned when your belly starts getting bigger at a faster rate than the average rate of time that one's belly gets bigger.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who shuts down every accusation that he's been doing research on your pregnancy and that he just happened to know the statistics about rates in which baby bumps grow (what can you say, he's a smart guy🤷)

Daddy-to-be!Felix who makes you promise to tell him all the days that your ultrasounds are on so he can make sure everything with you and his little princess is okay, especially since your bump is getting so big so fast, which he just happened to know and definitely did not do research about.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who gives you the best princess treatment all the time without fail. You don't like your nails; the money is on the counter for a new pair. You want to go shopping for maternity clothes because your jeans are starting to get too tight; he's at the door with his card and a big smile on his face, practically skipping out the door to give you the best day of your life. You want him to hold your bags as you walk around the mall, spending his money on anything you think looks even remotely cute; he'll do it with a sparkle in his eye. Your feet hurt from walking all day with this watermelon-sized child in your stomach; he'll lean down on his knees and stay there, rubbing your feet for hours. No matter what, even if he's exhausted from practice, his girls come first. Which ties into...

Daddy-to-be!Felix who demands time off. Demands it or he's done, leaving the team. (He's not actually going to, but he needs to let the company know he's not going to take their shit). His girls always come first. Reluctantly, they agree that he can take a 4-week break while you are pregnant and a 6-month leave after the baby comes. He glares at them before realizing that that's a pretty good chunk of time, but he's relentless, folding his arms in front of his chest, "and I get to leave whenever they need me." "I don't know about that." Daddy Bear mode activated. The woman trembles, looking at him. "Okay," she mutters reluctantly. Back into teddy bear mode. "Thank you so much. I hope you have a beautiful rest of your day." He turns and walks away like he didn't just make this lady shit her pants. (i highly doubt this is actually how this works but idrc this is called a fanFICTION for a reason )

Daddy-to-be!Felix who doesn't mind one bit doing the dishes and sweeping the floor as long as he sees you safe and sound in your bed, snoring away with your legs stuffed between a fluffy pillow.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who went with you to one of your ultrasounds, and ended up with only 10 minutes to get ready before a photoshoot. He had never felt so many glares in one room. Newsflash: It was worth it, even though they had to rearrange the whole schedule just for him. Han sent him a smile, knowing exactly how he felt.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who gets the worst cuteness aggression as you waddle around.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who just holds you when you burst into tears, feeling so useless as you cry from the pain, not knowing what to do when you start balling because the weight of holding a baby beginning to be too much to bear, so he just holds you, not being able to keep the tears that swarm his vision at bay, especially when he holds your bump, feeling how heavy it is just for him; he couldn't even imagine how heavy it is to carry that around inside of you.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who calls his mom right after just to thank her for going through all the shit of baring a child because he sees how hard it is for you and literally can't believe women all around the world have been going through that for all of time, it genuinely baffles him, he trips out about it for a hot minute.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who takes it up as his personal mission to make you feel like the prettiest woman on the planet when you're with him, especially since he can tell you feel insecure with all the changes your body is making. He sees them, notices them, he doesn't mind them at all, what he minds is how much they are hurting you and he just can't have that. Let's just say the amount of kisses and orgasms he has given you in the past 6 hours makes you feel like the hottest bitch in the world for about 4 weeks after.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who convinces you not to do a gender reveal because he wants it to be a surprise, you are hesitant because you don't like not knowing which gender to buy certain clothes, but you know you currently have a closet full of both baby boy and baby girl clothes because of ✨princess treatment ✨and with a black card and pregnancy hormones, all the clothes at the mall looked cute. What can you say? You're just a girl. 🤷

Daddy-to-be!Felix whose biggest fear is that he's going to be away when you have the baby, and he's not going to be able to comfort you through the most memorable and painful time of your life. It quite literally brings tears to his eyes. You comfort him, telling him that it's okay even if he isn't there. You know he loves you, and you wouldn't mind, but he reminds you constantly, "I don't care if it's in the middle of a concert, a fansign, a meeting that determines my whole entire future; your water breaks, I run."

Daddy-to-be!Felix who is so relieved that your water breaks in the middle of the night when he's home, where you can screech as loud as you can to attempt to get his attention.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who jumped up from bed so quick, grabbing you and leading you down the stairs, racked with guilt that he couldn't pick you up because A) he literally can't, and B) he's too terrified, he'll fall and hurt you.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who if all the anxiety he has ever experienced in his entire life could be multiplied and put in his body, it would still be so minuscule compared to the way he's freaking the FUCK out right now, but he still tries to calm himself down, and be sober-minded for you.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who when you get to the hospital, they have got him FUCKED UP to think he's ever leaving you. Holding your hand through it all, a part of him has to be on you the entire time. It doesn't matter if he doesn't sleep; he's an idol. Not sleeping is what he does.

Daddy-to-be!Felix who falls in love with you all over again, seeing you push through all the pain—admiring your strength and dedication— he loves you so much and makes sure you know, even in some of the most inconvenient times. “Big push,” the nurse calls out from under you. “I love you so much, baby, so fucking much, holy shit.” He kisses your hand. “Shut up, Felix, please.” You scream, your body vibrating with pain. “Yes ma'am, shutting up right now.”

Daddy-to-be!Felix who praises you constantly, “You're doing so well, baby.” "Keep pushing; do you see that, you're almost done?” "I'm so fuckin' proud of you, darling." "The only reason I'm going to see my beautiful baby is because of you. Do you know how much I admire you? I literally can't find the words." “SHUT UP.”

Daddy-to-be!Felix who lets you hold onto him while you go through all the contractions, digging your nails into his skin, drawing blood, "Ow baby," "sorry," "it's okay, I understand." You obviously are not very sorry, cause two seconds later you're digging deeper into his wounds.

Dad!Felix who is just as ecstatic about them telling him it's a boy as he would be if they were telling him it was a girl, he just has to change his dreams about brushing his little girl's hair to teaching his little boy how to tie a tie (which he is very bad at, but for him, he will attempt to learn).

Dad!Felix who never knew that you could love somebody so deeply without ever even knowing them, but when he holds your little ball of sunshine in his arms and feels their heartbeats intertwining, it all seems so much more real. He has your eyes. His nose, your hands, his toes—he sees bits and pieces of the two of you in every breath he takes. He has just met your baby, and yet he immediately feels like he would burn the whole world down for him.

Dad!Felix who panics when you suddenly start having even more contractions.

Dad!Felix who breaks down in tears when they hand him your second baby, a little girl, whose freckles dust across her cheeks just like his. If he thought he was feeling happy before knowing he gets to experience the best of both worlds at the same time, makes his already bursting heart about 10 times its size.

Dad!Felix who is sobbing happy tears, a smile plastered on his face as he cuts the umbilical cords off of both his little balls of sunshine, never thinking he would be so excited to do something in his life.

Dad!Felix who at this point is so surprised that he hasn't had a heart attack with the amount of scares he has gotten in the past 12 hours, especially when his heart jumps out of his chest, as the doctor informs the both of you that you need to be stitched up from where you tore, you are mostly confused because you didn't know you tore. It must have blended in with the excruciating pain that was firing from all areas of your body. "What does that mean? Is she okay? Is she going to die? Is she-"

Dad!Felix who is literally going to pass out because he actually thinks you're going to die.

Dad!Felix who feels real fuckin stupid when the nurses just chuckle and tell him you're not going to die, your vagina ripped while giving birth, that it happens quite often; they just need to sew you up.

Dad!Felix who watches them like a hawk as they sew you up, making sure that they aren’t messing anything up.

Dad!Felix who literally refuses to let you do anything for at least 3 months after your birth, researching the hell out of what can ease your pain, forcing you into bed rest while he takes care of the kids, giving you massages for your aching muscles, pouring you warm baths with rose petals when your stitching hurts or itches, he's so kind and attentive, hating seeing you in pain.

Dad!Felix who is so eager to do anything; getting up when the babies are crying, changing diapers, giving bottles, singing the babies to sleep…

Dad!Felix who loves to sing the babies with his deep calming voice, knowing it puts them to sleep instantly.

Dad!Felix who loves to eat you out when he finally puts the twins to bed about just as much, noticed the way you were looking at him as he was singing in that deep, sexy voice.

Dad!Felix who goes right back to the kids 30 minutes later when your moans wake them up.

Dad!Felix who just can't get over how awesome it is to see how different your babies are, not just in gender but in personality as well.

Dad!Felix who literally despises having the babies cry, does anything he can to stop it, not because it's annoying him, but because it hurts him to know his little angels are sad.

Dad!Felix who will cook dinner with both babies held carefully in his arms—something that seems atomically impossible, but he figures it out.

Dad!Felix who sees the guilt bubbling up on your face, rushing it away with gentle kisses and soft reassurances, ushering you away with a smile. “I know you're tired and hurting. Go take a nap, love, and I'll wake you up when dinner is done.”

Mom!Reader who wakes up from her nap, sees the house cleaned, the dishes done, the babies fed, and put to bed with a steaming meal in front of you, you are more than happy to suck him to the heavens after. Hey, everything's 50/50, right?

Mom!Reader who begs Felix to get the babies because she can hear them crying through the baby monitor.

Dad!Felix who does it without a second thought. Never once complaining about how you guys could count the amount of sleep you have gotten combined on just one of your hands, he understood the twins were ornery—having a bad case of colic—so to calm them down, he sings to them just like he always does.

Mom!Reader who panics hearing such a deep voice over the baby monitor. In a fit of half-asleep—panic-induced—sleep deprivation run into the baby's room, ready to kill somebody if needed, but your heart melts instead when you meet Felix holding your sniffling twins, rocking them carefully in his arms. Tears pool in your eyes seeing the way his face glew with pure love; even though he looked exhausted, even though there were deep bags under his eyes and spit up on his shirt, no matter how hard life was, at least you know that with Felix, you’d never regret it, not even for a minute.

Dad!Felix who looks up, surprised to see you in the doorway. "Hi baby," he whispers. "Go back to bed, darling. I've got this." You look at him like he hung the moon, and for you, he would.

Dad!Felix who is the most patient father any child could ever ask for. (I will never get over this. Definitely the type of dad who would help clean up the milk and not just yell because it was spilled)

Dad!Felix who would rather die than yell at his kids, is definitely the gentlest parent known to man.

Dad!Felix who dresses your angels like the next Louis Vuitton ambassadors, "Really, Felix, our four-month-old babies do not need a Louis blazer and jumpsuit." "Who says?” he shrugs. “Um, me, because they're 4 months old.” You enunciate every syllable as though you were talking to one of the babies in question. “Do they even sell this in stores?" “Um, no, I had it custom-made, duh." "Oh my gosh," you facepalm, not before facepalming a little harder, pulling out a Louis pair of sunglasses and a Louis purse just small enough to fit tiny hands. ”You bought the baby a Louis purse?" "Of course, my princess can be without a bag. Look deeper; there's something for mommy in there too.” You pull out a Louis Vuitton diaper bag. 🤦

Dad!Felix who has never really liked confrontation, but when a paparazzi accidentally bumped into you holding the twins because he was trying to take pictures of the group; he almost killed him, saw red, got so close to using those Taekwondo skills he spent years practicing. The team was the only reason he didn't rip someone's head off. Bangchan's glare would have been enough, but yours, his, and the whole group were enough for the man's face to go red and curl into himself, definitely regretting all of his life choices.

Dad!Felix who's the type of father who wants to protect his little angels from the world, is literally willing to glue pillows to all areas of the house so that they will never get hurt. You stare at him blankly, wondering if he's serious.

He is.

Dad!Felix who gets genuinely disappointed that you obviously oppose, so instead he baby-proofs the ever-loving shit out of the house, sharp objects gone, all corners covered, outlets concealed.

Dad!Felix who if anyone were to talk about his family online, would not be silent, would go into a fit of rage, aggressively typing on his phone, getting ready to post a long paragraph on his story that you or his team would have to keep him from sending because, you know, his job or whatever, speaking of job…

Dad!Felix who knows he has to leave for work eventually, and his 6-month hiatus from the group was not permanent. A lot of tears are shed as he holds you and your beautiful babies, knowing he isn’t going to be able to see them for a whole 3 months while they start their tour. He can't bear thinking that he might miss such pivotal moments as the first rollover, the first steps, the first word. He can see his little munchkins' lives flashing right before his eyes as he looks at the packed suitcase in the corner. “Felix, we are going to be fine, I promise." “Are you sure?? I can leave the group; I would leave them for you; I promise I would; you just say the word and I'm gone; we can buy a house in the suburbs-” You giggle, overwhelmed with admiration for his dedication to your family, “Don't be silly, Lix. I know you love your job and your team, plus we wouldn't be able to afford a house without you working." He sighs, knowing you are right. “Fine,” he mutters, holding you all close. “Just promise to call me every single day, okay?”

Dad!Felix who gets up early enough in the morning to feed the kids and get them dressed, trying to spend as much quality time with them as possible before he has to leave.

Mom!Reader who, being the mom you are, still freaks out when you wake up, scared Felix is going to miss his plane. While you're putting your son's shoes on, you run into the room and say, “Come on, lix-” You stop dead in your tracks, seeing him beaming while brushing your little girl's hair, humming a sweet melody as the paddle goes smoothly through her locks. She looks up at him like he hung the moon, and for her, he would. Your bad mood dissipates as you remember why you got into any of this in the first place. Everything is going to be fine. You're going to be fine. Felix looks up, feeling your presence. He smiles wider. "Do you like it, momma?" He asks, clearly proud of his work. She smiles toothless and full of glee. You take her in your arms, spinning her around. "Well, of course, I like it. Did Daddy do this for you, baby?" She spits out gobbly gook, which you nod your head at, acting like she just recited pie.

Dad!Felix who brushes the little girl's hair every day before work without fail, even looks up tutorials on YouTube about different strategic hairstyles. He's terrible at them. Doesn't stop your heart from melting into a puddle on the floor while he's attempting French braids, though.

Dad!Felix who proposes to you a few years later, so he can have your two beautiful babies standing beside him as he proposes: his little princess in a cute white dress holding a bouquet of picked flowers, and your little prince in an adorable little tux holding a heart of chocolates. Everything is just so perfect, you'd be a certified idiot not to say yes (not that you were ever considering it).

Husband!Felix who when you finally get married, agrees that your baby boy is going to be the one who walks you down the aisle with your little girl being his best wo'man', right beside Hyunjin and all his other members, of course.

Extra for the ones who endured my rambling

Mom!Reader+Hans girlfriend who had a baby boy the same day that you had your little girl. When you found out the good news, you immediately started planning for the wedding, knowing this couldn't be anything other than fate, already thinking about ship names and wedding dresses.

Dad!Felix+Han who glare at the two, Felix not liking the idea of his perfect princess being anywhere near the male species, Han not liking the idea of his girlfriend cuddling with someone that isn't him. But eventually, Felix eases on his glare, his heart melting as you giggle about the color of the bouquet.

Last but not least

Husband!Felix who will always love the way his family looks at him, like he hung the moon because, for them, he would.

©CookieCreates (posted: June, 19th 2024) All rights reserved. Do not translate, copy, or claim my works as yours! I only post on this platform so if any of my works are elsewhere, report and notify me immediately.

~ I'm probably going to redo this one day so if you have anything you would like to add/change please let me know :))

COOKIE OUT

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samandcolbyownme · 2 months

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HEYYY love ur writing more than anything and was wondering if you could do a johnnie smut or like a jake and johnnie one?? if not another S&C one would be great. ur a godsend ❤️

Summary: “Frontman Vic Fuentes explained the song's meaning. “It's a love song to my girl about ignoring all the internet hate we got when we first started dating and focusing on each other instead."”

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, swearing, referring to hate/hate comments etc, breakup up (kinda), cigarettes, kinda sad at first ngl but I’ll make it up to you, kissing, hair pulling, cute and sensual unprotected sex, creampie, fluffy filth

Word Count: little over 2k | unedited

I know this fic in particular is fiction, but in reality, there’s absolutely no need for hate towards anyone’s significant other.

You pulled your hand away from the door handle, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. You were shaking, you couldn’t help that no matter how hard you tried.

As you go to finally open the door, Johnnie pulls it open, “Hey, baby.” He pulls you into his arms, holding you tight as you break down.

The hate you’ve been receiving lately has been really getting to you.

You didn’t understand. Everyone loved you before anything was even confirmed, you didn’t know where you went wrong.

“I-I..” you gasp out, and Johnnie shakes his head, “Don’t. Don’t do that.” He closes the door and leans back, “Don’t apologize to me for how you feel.”

He brushes hair from your face and as soon as you look up at him, his face falls and you close your eyes, hanging your head.

“No, y/n. We don’t have to do this.” Johnnie goes to cup your cheeks but you push his hands away, “You’re not going to grow if they hate me.”

“So fucking what.” Johnnie scoffs, “You do understand that I care more about you than that channel right?”

You stay silent, set on your decision.

“Y/n.” Johnnie steps clsoeer, “Please, don’t-“ he takes a ragged breath, “Please. Don’t do this. Don’t say what I know you’re about to say.”

“If you know the. I don’t need to say anything else.” You sniffle, shaking your head, “I-I’m sorry.. I just can’t let myself get in between you and your, literal job, Johnnie.”

You step back, reaching for the handle, “I’m sorry. I need..” you try not to cry, “Just give me a few days.”

And with that, you left. Tears stream down your face as Johnnie stands there, watching you walk out of his life.

Or so you thought.

Johnnie wasn’t giving up that easily.

——

You left Johnnie’s around eleven this morning.

It’s now eight at night. The sun has set, leaving you along in the darkness of your fire escape as you sit and smoke the last cigarette you have.

You felt like you gave up too soon, gave up on Johnnie too soon, and that’s what wrecked you the most. Of course, it didn’t hit you until you got home and sat in silence.

You look up at the sky, eyes moving between each star.

“Hey.”

You jump, whipping your head over to see Johnnie standing at your bedroom window, “What are you doing here?” You look away from him, “I told you to give me a few days.”

“I gave you time.” He climbs through the window, moving to sit next to you, “You knew I wouldn’t wait a few days.”

You laugh slightly, tears welling in your eyes as you ash the last of your cigarette before tossing it over the side of the railing, “I just-“

“Don’t. It’s my turn to say something.” Johnnie cuts you off and you nod, motioning out in front of you, “Floors yours.”

“There’s rage is us.” Johnnie starts out, “You can’t pull the plug on us because I’ll keep on shaking and waiting for you.”

“Shaking?” You laugh slightly, “I’m not some drug, Johnnie.”

“But you are, y/n. You literally..” he takes a deep breath, “You’re the epitome of happiness for me, y/n. Without you, I feel like I was hooked on some sort of mind altering drug and I can’t function without you.”

You look down and Johnnie turns towards you, “There’s too much to lose here, y/n. We’ve known each other for so long and we’ve grown into-“

“Painful lust that makes my stomach hurt?”

“What do you mean?” Johnnie shakes his head slightly, “You’re more-“

“I meant like..” you sigh, “We started hooking up, and obviously it grew into more and maybe we should have just kept it at that. No feelings. No one being pissed off that you’re dating me?” You scoff, voice breaking, “I ju-“

“You knew our relationship wasn’t going to be just a happy vacation, y/n. You told me that, do you remember? You told me that-“

“I’ll stick with you through everything.” You look over at him and he shrugs, “So what? There’s no motivation to stay in this together? To hold me up when I need you? Or me to hold you up? You know I’d do anything for you, y/n.”

You grab your cigarette pack, letting out a groan when you remember it’s empty. Johnnie reaches into his pocket and hands you his, “Here.”

You take it, pulling one out and lighting it, “Thanks.”

He shakes his head when you go to give the pack back, “Keep it.”

“Should probably quit.” You mumble as you bring it to your lips. Johnnie chuckles, reaching over to take one out and you hand him your lighter.

“We could fake our own deaths.”

You look over at Johnnie, “We can what?”

“Think about it y/n. You said you wanna chase the moon like fire. So we can fake our own deaths and just go live in the woods or something.”

You laugh slightly, “You’re insane, Johnnie, we can just-“

“Do you remember when you got kicked out of your one apartment? Had to sleep in your car?”

You roll your eyes, “I don’t need to be reminded of that.”

“No listen. You didn’t want to just move in with me, so we’d just hang out together. You’d roll the windows down, and we’d pretend we were sitting at the beach. It was enough to believe that your life didn’t get turned upside down.” Johnnie slides his hand over to your free hand as he takes a drag of his cigarette.

“What are you trying to say?” You look over at his hand on yours and up to his face. He blows out the smoke, “I’m saying that we can make the best out of any situation.”

“I don’t know how we can make the best out of your channel going to hell because of me.” You pull your hand away, flicking your cigarette before you climb back into your bedroom.

Johnnie is quick to follow your actions, grabbing your arms and spinning you around, “listen, I’m just a stupid motherfucker and I wish I could figure out how to get everyone to understand that I don’t want you to go anywhere.”

He reaches up to gently brush his thumb over your cheek, “I want to breathe in your rush. Y/n, I want to leap when you tell me to fly.”

You lay your hand on his cheek, “Johnnie.”,

“Darling I-“ Johnnie sighs, “I don’t mean to beg it’s just that the thorns on the stem of you potentially leaving me..” he shakes his head, “It feels like it’s tearing up my skin.”

You blink, tears fall and Johnnie’s follow, “Please.” He whispers, leaning in to rest his forehead on yours, “I just want to be alone and watch as they all just disappear.”

You lay your hands on his neck, sniffling as you tilt your head up to press your lips into his. His grip tightens on your face as he pulls you in closer.

He backs you up to your bed, watching as you sit down and lift your shirt up over your head, “I want you in every way possible, Johnnie.”

He nods, moving to push you back gently as his lips find yours.

“Just close your eyes.” He kisses down your neck, “Just picture you and I.” He kisses back up, “Well sell daylight for gasoline.”

He leans his head back, “Just you and me. We can go wherever you want.”

You reach up, running your hand through his hair, “You mean that?”

He nods.

“Prove it.”

Johnnie sits up, taking off his jacket and shirt before leaning down to kiss you. Everything is slow, but so full of passion. He reaches down, pushing down your sweats and you kick them off.

He stands up, taking off the rest of his cltohes before his body is against yours under the blankets. His hand travels up and down your side, landing on your cheek as your hand slides down his chest.

He rolls over, the tip of his cock brushes against where you need him most.

You slide your hands up his arms, hooking one around his neck as he leans down and slides into you.

You moan loudly, eyes closing tight, “Fuck.”

Johnnie groans, “You feel so good, baby.” He kisses your shoulder and up your neck to your lips. He groans lowly as you gasp, moaning out as he starts to slowly thrust.

You tighten your legs around his waist, “I love you. I’m so-sorry.” Your voice breaks and Johnnie shakes his head, pecking your lips, “Don’t. Just don’t think about that.”

“Think about us. Just us. No one matters but you and me.”

“I only want you.”

“You’re all that matters to me.”

“Fuck, y/n. I love you.”

You squeeze his cock, moaning out as your back arches off the bed. Johnnie guides you through your high, moaning lowly in your ear, “I want you for the rest of my life.”

“Johnnie.” You whimper out, “I love you.” You kiss his lips, moaning into his mouth, “I love you.”

He brushes hair from your face, propping himself up on his elbow, “You’re so beautiful.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, “I love you. So much, you don’t even know.”

You pull him in for a kiss, sitting up and laying a hand on his chest. He rolls over and you follow, straddling him and allowing his cock to slip back into you.

You slowly make out as you roll your hips. His hands slide down to grip your sides, “Doin’ so good.” He smiles up at you, watching your face twist with pleasure, “My fuckin’ girl.”

He pulls you down, lips attaching to yours, “where do you want me to-“

You push your hips down onto him, “I said I want all of you.”

He nods, “You sure?”

You nod, rolling off of him, “Yes.”

With that knowledge, Johnnie wasn’t lasting much longer, “Fuck, okay.” He groans as he slips himself back into you.

His lips find yours and your hands find his hair, tangling it around your fingers, “Don’t ever let me leave like that again.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.” Johnnie kisses down your neck as his thrusts grow sloppy, “Fuck.”

You gasp as you feel his cock twitch inside of you, moaning out at the thought of him filling you with everything he has, “Shit.” You pull him in, attacking his lips with yours until you feel him slip out.

He lays next to you, bringing the blanket up around you both, “I’m serious about it being just us. Maybe not the whole faking our death shit, but everything else.” He looks down at you, “I love you. If you want to go off the grid and scavenge the forests, I’ll be there.”

You laugh slightly, “I have always wanted to go to Rome. Paris. You know, all the pretty cities.”

He shrugs, “which pretty city would would want to go to first?”

You purse your lips, “Probably Rome.”

He smirks, “Rome it is.” He sits up and you follow, “Where are you going?”

He walks around to get his phone from his jeans pocket, “I’m going to Rome and if you want, you can come with.”

“Johnnie, you don’t h-“

“Just let it happen.” He bends down to kiss you, “But first.. I’m just going to..”

He sits down on the bed and you bite your lip as you watch him type out a tweet.

——

Thank you so much for reading. I love you so much and as always, I’ll see you in the next one!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

#samandcolby-ownme #Johnnie Guilbert #Johnnie Guilbert smut #Johnnie Guilbert one shot #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert one shots #Johnnie Guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert x y/n #Johnnie Guilbert x you #johnnie guilbert x reader fluff #johnnie guilbert x reader smut #floral and fading #floral and fading ptv #ptv #ptv floral and fading #ptv inspired #inspired by music

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akoyaxs · 10 months

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Tì'eylan ✮ Pairing: Aonung x fem!human!reader ✮ Trope: Friends to lovers ✮ Word Count: 16k ✮ Tags: mentions of sexual partners, talk of sex, size difference, fluff, Aonung's pov (kinda mega horny for her), jealously, lap sitting, accidental stimulation, masturbation (m), slight slight angst if you squint, kissing, biting, munchiness, coming untouched, p in v, nicknames (Aonung calls reader tsawksyul, which means sunlily) ✮ A/N: so I kinda went a little overboard with this one - idk what to tell you - i had a lot to say and ngl had a lot of daydreams during boring classes that i didnt have time to turn into writing till now (>﹏<) Also lol, I'm on holiday w my family rn so writing this at times was quite risky but anyway, HOPE YOU ENJOY MY DARLINGS, I REALLY LIKED WRITING THIS ONE <3

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Never in a million years would you have suspected that you’d end up close friends with Aonung.

When you met him, shielded by the somewhat brotherly protection of Neteyam and Lo’ak, Aonung had been indifferent to you at the very best, and taunting and infuriating for the first few weeks in Awa’atlu.

All it took was a few skirmishes, several unorthodox verbal arguments, and one fucked up altercation with other humans for Aonung to get off his high horse of hazing the newbies.

You weren’t sure if it was Neteyam’s near-death and your inconsolable distress over it, or the closeness of you getting nearly kidnapped by the Recoms (the “pretty traitor” as the had called you left little to imagination of what sort of fates you would have met with the RDA), but there on that empty beach, watching the sun set in the safety of the village bay, left alone or maybe even forgotton, you had found his ridiculously tall form approaching.

Aonung sat slowly and silently beside your smaller, disconcerted figure. After a wordless moment, in which you continued to absently stare out at the empty horizon, he had placed a soft, woven blanket over you.

It was a little rough, but of course he didn’t mean to be. Moreover, it had just been a wordless loan of something quite too large for your human figure – so much so you were practically drowning in it – but the weight was warm and reassuring, as, surprisingly, was his still, quiet presence hulking beside you.

“Thank you.”

Your whisper – feeble and weak even to your own ears – would have been lost in the breeze and lapping waves, but you later reminded yourself of na’vi’s superior senses, as he let out a small sound of acknowledgment, silently noting how shaken you still were.

“Are you alright?” he had asked, following your unspoken rule and also quietly watching the ocean, and more importantly, keeping his gaze from your pale, unnerved face.

“Yep.”

And that had been just that.

No more words had been spoken, not so much as a glance or gesture was offered, but something had changed as the unlikely pair of you sat in ponderous silence, watching the gilded horizon.

You never really discussed the hiccup at your initial meeting (and the period that had followed before friendship was forged), but you never needed to. Aonung had wordlessly conveyed his apology, as had you accepted it.

It is an uncomplicated friendship; time spent together is full of teasing and laughter and often petty argument, and time spent apart is to gather new material to discuss, to scheme up new ways to make the other’s life an amusing hell, and of course to just fuck around.

Which leads to one fact; Aonung is a slut.

You could tell it from the moment you saw him, even before knowing his desirable position in the clan or noting the lovesick-lustful looks the village girls couldn’t tear off their faces when he was within eyesight. It’s not just obvious through his physical appearance (although, admittedly, that is the work of the lord), but through his walk and talk and everything in between.

Even before your friendship, you knew Aonung was off with a different girl every few days, and said girl would always then labour under the deulusion she alone captured the lustful gaze of her future Olo’eyktan – something that always reminded you not to fall for your friend in his hopelessly infuriating slutiness.

It came as no surprise to you when your theory of you friend being Pandora’s biggest slut was proved to be quite true, so you aren’t entirely sure why the outlines of your love life came as quite the shock to the Metkayina man.

“Tell me,” he says with a small, ponderous frown, as though something had just occurred to him, though you knew this look perfectly well to guess what he was about to say was not some casual thought that slid nonchalantly into his mind. “How have you been taking care of yourself?”

You look wearily up from your beadings to squint at him – all stretched out and full of lazy curiousity on the woven mat of your marui. This is how you often spent the warm afternoons in Awa’atlu; you beading or mixing herbs or cooking or something actually useful, while your friend bothers you.

You were still too weary of actually swimming with people, surrounded by beautiful, tall, slim, lithe na’vi girls, and although Aonung had tried to convince you a million times, those bikinis you brought with you remained secretly stowed away deep in the darkest parts of your marui.

Sometimes at night, you would slip out the walkway of your marui into the cool ocean below, but careful that there’s no one around to see. At least it meant na’vi were absolutely shocked to say the least when they saw just how curvy human bodies could get without your flowy clothing.

“What are you on about?” you sigh. “I’m perfectly healt-”

“I meant physically,” Aonung says casually. “Maintaining yourself sexually.”

Oh.

Your friend did have a habit of being carelessly blunt in his manners, but that was one thing that managed to take you by surprise.

“What do you think?” you laugh, throwing off your disconcertion and far too used to your friend - and all na’vi really - disregard for topics very much taboo for humans to be thrown off by the quite personal question.

“Well…” he shifts closer to gage your expression, a small furrow creasing his brow. “You are the only tawtute here, and I’m sure even your kind have sexual needs that must be met. So how…”

“Do I cope when I get horny?” you finished, raising your brows and wrinkling your nose at him. Aonung nods, throat looking a little tight but otherwise unbothered by the delicacy a conversation like this should typically have. “What sort of answer are you looking for, Aonung?”

He blinks, then shakes his head in a puppyish way and you grin.

“I don’t just take care of me myself, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you answer elusively.

You never told Aonung the truth. The truth that you have no shortage of Metkayina men offering to deal with your sexual desires, lost in their own curiosity of human-na’vi sexual experimentation.

And you’d be lying if you pretended you weren’t attracted to them. How could you not be?

Na’vi were nine to ten feet of practically pure muscle, cloaked in beautiful, smooth blue skin and glimmering with pretty glowing tahnì. They were slim and wire, agile and graceful in their movements and talented beyond anything a human could ever possibly possess.

So, discreetly, you would indulge in all sorts of capers. It was, admittedly, a lot of fun.

Sometimes you’d be offered pretty little gifts, clumsily complimented on your human looks and talents, or even simply carried away in heated moments of pleasure and experimentation.

But here was Aonung, nearly your best friend at this point, who just heard your vague answer to his curious question.

You can physically see the moment the connotation of your words sinks into his thick skull, and his eyes widen large as Pandora and his lips part in shock.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” you grin, flicking him on the shoulder. “You didn’t expect me to sit all tight and pretty and alone while practically stranded on an island of mega hot people, did you?”

Aonung looks as though he very much did expect that, or at least the thought of you fucking other members of his clan had certainly never crossed his mind. In fact, he looks nothing short of stupefied as he stares at you.

“Who?” he demands, an unmistakable scowl settling over his face.

“Really?” you laugh, rolling your eyes. “Like I’d tell you.”

“Why not?” he asks sullenly, muscles tense and jaw clenched.

“Because I know you, Aonung,” you smile. “And I know how you act around Tsireya with Lo’ak, and I don’t need your stupid ass scaring away my possible companions.”

“Companions,” he grunts with derisive amusement, before his scowl fixes once again and he furrows his brow once more. “You do know I do not see you as a sister, right?”

“Yeah well… don’t tell me that if I share who I’ve been with that you won’t get mad at them.”

Aonung pauses, and you can see he recognises your point; at the slightest mention of a name, Aonung would be up with the guy pinned up bruised and bloodied.

“So you like na’vi then?” Aonung questions. “Even though we’re double your height and could throw you twenty feet?”

“On the contrary,” you say with a sly, amusing grin, “that’s exactly what I like.”

When Aonung’s face slackens a little in shock, you laugh openly and shake your head.

“But who cares if I like na’vi- they’re hot and muscly, so it’s totally justified in my opinion!” you say with a wide, shameless grin. “The real question is why the guys were attracted to me – if humans are so small and weak looking or whatever else you giants think of us, then why would they want to fuck me?”

“That really is a whole other question,” Aonung sighs, rolling his eyes as though you’re being stupid. “But be honest, what do you think of me-”

He’s cut off by your pillow smacking him heavily in the face, and resurfaces to find your little frown a foot away from his.

“Hey, I was honest with you,” you scowl. Lie.

But you weren’t about to admit the truth – that your irritating friend is just about the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. You try to put it from your mind; those ten feet of pure muscle sculpted to glorious perfection only masked his stupidity and secret superpower of infuriating you with the slightest of comments or even glances.

“And what do you keep in that little book of yours then?” Aonung grins, looking infuriatingly smug.

You set down your beading with slight annoyance now, and you frown at your friend. He’s sat up now, propped back on his hands, head tilted to stare at you with that dangerous gleam that makes you want to question everything, every tone and muscle in his body practically glowing in the afternoon light.

“What book?” you ask wearily, forcing your eyes away from his body.

“You know,” he snickers. “The one you quickly stash away when you see me coming, that you think no one knows about? The little one you hide somewhere in this-”

“If you ever read that Aonung,” you threaten, suddenly on your feet with your face flushed deep deep red. God, what were you thinking trying to keep a diary? You’re an adult! “I swear to bloody mary that I will castrate you and burn everything I chop off.”

Aonung just chuckles, and you scowl.

“If you don’t want me going back to thinking you’re an absolute dick again- leave it.”

And finally he does, reluctantly.

All afternoon you can see him itching to question you more about it, burning with the desire to find out who you had been with, still shocked by the revelation that you fucked around with people in his clan, and he never even knew.

But he knows better than to push you, so he stays quiet, watching you work quietly.

When the sun sets and Kiri drops by to offer you eat with her and Rotxo, you say a quick goodbye to Aonung, who nods and leaves.

“What’s up with him?” Kiri asks, raising her brows at Aonung’s fading back, which is unmistakably tense. “What did you do to him?”

“He just found out about my romping around,” you shrug. “And he-”

“He what?” Kiri gawks, freezing in her steps so you smack into her and instantly fall back onto the ground. “Oh sorry- but YOU TOLD HIM?”

“Yes…?” you say slowly, confused why she’s so shocked. “He’s my friend.”

“So is Lo’ak, so is Neteyam,” Kiri points out. “But you aren’t telling them that you’re going around with-”

“That’s different,” you say quickly. “Lo’ak and Tey are like my brothers, and Aonung… is not.”

“Right,” Kiri says unconvinced.

There’s an awkward moment of silence in which she’s clearly waiting for you to say more.

“He’s infuriating,” you finally burst out.

“Yes he is,” Kiri agrees. She continues in her pointed silence as you move into her marui, until you finally can’t take it anymore.

“Fine!” you snap, face flushed. “He’s absolutely irritating in every way, and now he’s suddenly all caring about what I do in my own time with other guys? WE AREN’T EVEN A THING-”

“Are you sure about that?” Rotxo grins from the other side. “Just think about the way he acts when you’re around.”

“Annoying and cocky?” you huff, but you know what he means.

“Come on,” Kiri sighs, shaking her head at you with affection, “don’t tell me you’re this oblivious all of a sudden. What happened to my friend who used to have half the Omatikaya wrapped around her little finger, who could charm even the coldest of warriors? Where did all your psychicness go?”

“That’s not a word,” you grumble, hiding your unease with semantics.

“Okay enough,” Kiri sighs, pulling you up from where you had just comfortably settled on the floor and dragging you out to the entrance. “No more obliviousness.”

“Where are you taking me?” you moan, lazily allowing her to drag you off through the village, Rotxo trailing contentedly and obediently behind his mate.

“To get you changed,” she says carelessly. “We’re going out.”

Aonung wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting when he asked you that question. But he sure as fuck wasn’t prepared to hear that his little tawtute was getting her way around the clan.

You were his friend. Once even friend had been a loose term to describe your relationship, but he would be lying if he hadn’t know that from the moment he laid eyes of your small figure – barely even half the height of the Sullys as they landed in Awa’atlu with your curious eyes and strange clothing – that you were his.

But after some time when the two of you had warmed to one another, he had realised that he did not see you in a way that was even remotely platonic.

The reasoning for that was probably that he saw you everywhere; your face, your small hands, your little body.

On nights spent with various other girls, he found his eyes closing and his mind imagining it was you splayed out beneath him, your pretty little face twisted with the lewdest of moans. When, eventually, he gave up on trying to fuck these lustful profanities into other girls, cock in hand in the privacy of sheltered coves or his own marui, he would long for it to be your hand wrapped around his length, to feel your lips brushing over every inch of his body, sinking his fangs into your smooth, soft skin.

He tried to tell himself, all the rest of that afternoon which he spent fuming around his marui before the festivities of that night, that it wasn’t the fact that you were with other guys that was bothering him. You were a free woman, free to do what you liked, free to spend your time on other men.

But on the other hand, the men of his clan were of his clan.

They were Aonung’s people - not just in a metaphorical sense of belonging - they were not as free to do as they liked when Aonung would one day lead them. And they should damn well know better than to touch you.

They had no license to have you, touch you, even look at you.

Had Aonung not made it clear enough - even if you seemed completely oblivious to it - that you were his?

Sure, he made not have had you in that purely carnal aspect that you apparently had shared with worthless spineless skxawngs unfit to be in your very presence, but the way he acted around you, the gifts he brought to you, the way he protected you with all the ferocity boiling within him, even the way his scent lingers on your skin when he can’t be near you (even if your tawtute nose couldn’t smell it) marks you as if not his, then at least definitely untouchable.

So what were these shameless, perverted idiots playing at?

They, more than anyone, should know how Aonung can get when he sets his mind to something. And that one is you, and he’s not about to let anyone else dare lay so much a finger on your smaller body ever again. He’s already cursing himself for not realising all this sooner, letting you waste your time with men could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve you. Which is why – when he sees you next, across the fire at a party – Aonung doesn’t take any chances.

It's a pretty typical Metkayina gathering, full of young warriors, hunters, village girls and other various clan members. Flasks of unilpay are being passed around and the air is rich with loud laughter, conversation, and other various drunken atrocities. The beach – cool in the clear night breeze – is basked in the balmy, warm glow of a bonfire. Sparks are flying gracefully up; flaming glimmers among the silver stars of the heavens.

“What were you thinking?” he demands in a low voice, striding straight up to Rotxo and grabbing his friend’s arm to face him. “Why is she here?”

“Kiri thought it would be good for her to come out for a bit,” Rotxo shrugs. Aonung scoffs, far too used to his best friend’s continual obedience to whatever Kiri does.

“I thought you were just going to have dinner, have a little chat, you know?” Aonung grumbles, looking away to scan the party, making sure you were far on the other side and alone with Kiri. “But now you bring her here?”

Rotxo settles back, looking slightly amused amidst his dawning understanding, and Aonung’s hand slowly falls from its tight grip around his arm.

“And what is so terrible about her being here?” Rotxo counters. “She’s been hanging around the village for ages, she’s been to these parties before. What’s your problem now?”

Aonung growls low under his breath. Frustration is starting to course through him. Rotxo knows what the answer is – what Aonung’s deal is, why he cares, why his gaze can’t seem to stop drifting towards you, but he’s waiting for the words to be spoken.

Instead, with a small huff of exasperation, Aonung pushes past Rotxo to approach you.

Through that short conversation that seemed an eternity, Aonung had not missed all the glances snuck covertly in your direction, shot from the corner of eyes and over shoulders and between the flickering flames separating you from most of the festivities.

You had changed since the afternoon, Aonung notices.

He didn’t quite understand tawtute customs, particularly your strange clothes that frustratingly covered so much of your body that na’vi clothing would usually be displaying with confidence and adoration, but he had spent enough time with you to know he had never seen you wear something like this.

He would have definitely remembered seeing you like this.

It’s hard to describe when the style is from a completely different species, but the thought that first crosses his mind is black. It was the first thing he notices after all, the black material cloaking over your body, brushing lightly over your soft skin.

You’ve worn things vaguely in this style before (dresh… cress… dress or something) but they had all been long and flowy and beautiful, yes, but this was so much more than that. It was stupid, actually, that only a change of outfit has Aonung’s heart seizing in his chest, throat bobbing and jaw clenched at the sight of you standing there, unilpay in one hand, the other moving to push your hair from your face.

It barely even covers your legs, and your arms and shoulders are left completely bare except for a wispy black strand that winds over your skin to vainly hold it up from your breasts. From Aonung’s view of you, he feels like just watching you is sinful. It’s wrong, to be seeing you like this, to be thinking these thoughts of you, but he can’t pull away from his view.

He had always known tawtute bodies were different to na’vi (all slim and muscular), and sometimes he found himself pleading that the next day your clothing would not be as flowy and coveraging as it always was, but he’d always beat back those sinful desires with the reminder of your positions.

But now, with the smooth skin of your thighs and slim shoulders and the ample curves of your body on full, glorious display, Aonung wonders how he ever managed to go without seeing you like this before.

You are always so small to him, but every curve of your body, in your thighs and hips and breasts and fuck.

Aonung stifles a low groan at all the thoughts flooding his filthy mind, and wrenches his gaze from the glorious glow of your soft skin under the dancing light of the fire.

And then, in several unconscious moments where Aonung has no clue what he’s doing, in several long strides to get him by your side without the pain of seconds apart from you, he’s beside you. You look up at him through your long dark lashes, and he also notices your lips look plumper and shinier than usual; the smooth rosiness gleaming tantalisingly up at him.

Not for the first time, he has to swallow a furious desire to sink his fangs lightly into your silky lips, and he immediately darts his gaze away – the method he always uses in vain attempts to stem those filthy, forbidden, longings.

“What are you doing here?” Aonung asks coldly, staring down at you from his metre above.

“Same as you,” you shrug. “I’m here to have fun.”

Aonung is not happy to hear that.

His glare moves straight to Kiri, who’s watching his displeased reaction with mingled interest and amusement. Obviously, her and Rotxo have some stupid ulterior motive or plot or something, but he won’t have any of it, not if it risks other guys getting anywhere near you.

But he can’t think of anything to do. If he tells you to leave then you’d doubtless shout at him and be in that pouty, pissed mood that you sometimes get into. And he can’t just flat out voice the truth, not with this many people standing around, not during one of the most unromantic settings he could imagine with tipsy warriors and a blazing fire.

From the moment he stood beside you though, the gazes moved away. Aonung’s pleased to find less and less eyes roving quickly over you, and the ones that do are quickly averted when he scowls at them.

Just as he thinks maybe it’ll be over – that no one will bother you anymore – people start to dance. Aonung had been friends with you long enough to know this was your favourite part of any festivity. You loved to watch the sway and undulation and grace of the na’vi in their movements, the beautiful delicacy of the clothing gleaming under the stars and tails coiling and moving in timely leisure.

And he also knows it will surely be a matter of time before you want to join in or worse, someone else asks you to dance.

So he sits gracelessly down next to you, on that log you’ve perched yourself on top of. The weight of his body suddenly seated beside you makes your little body jolt a little, but you grit your teeth with a small eye roll and discreetly dig your fingers into the bark. He spreads out a little, ensuring there is no more room on the log, with you seated between Kiri’s slim, tall figure and his own broad, muscular body.

Kiri certainly doesn’t miss this gesture (or the meaning behind it), but she hides her small smile with a sip from her coconut. You, on the other hand, are so entranced by the dancing that you don’t notice when Aonung spreads his legs a little wider so his muscular thigh is brushing against your small, soft, slightly squishy one he wordlessly loves so much.

You continue to watch with wordless awe, and Aonung sits, contented with the fact that no one has dared approach yet.

Yet when some stupid warrior – Tsu’kae, Aonung thinks his name is – blantantly turns to stare at you with shameless, disgustingly lustful interest, Aonung decides he has to step it up. Has he not made it fucking clear enough that you are his?

Slowly so he doesn’t attract too much of your attention, Aonung leans back and slips his arm to rest on his hands on either side of his body. This way, you’re closed in between his firmly planted hand and his own body, without any space on the log for anyone else.

When you finally notice Aonung’s stretched out into your space, you grumble faintly about his stupid giant body and his lack of care for personal space, but you settle back to rest your head lightly against his arm behind you.

Aonung tries not to tense, completely unprepared for your comfort against him, thrown of by your soft hair cascading and your face resting gently against his arm, lips inches away from brushing his skin yet your breath ghosts warm and present against him.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper faintly to him, and he tries to ignore the fact that each word is whispered nearly right against his veins, as though your voice is coursing straight to his heart. You shiver lightly beside him.

“Yeah,” he replies in a low voice, throat feeling quite tight and strained; it isn’t exactly easy to scare off any other guys when he’s already about to explode just having you this close.

He feels slightly stupid; you’re watching the dances with awe and appreciation and a distant melancholy, desirous longing, and of course, he’s watching you. With equal ferocity, just excelling past with unbearable, flaming tendrils of frustrated craving snaking through his veins, seizing his heart and freezing his mind.

It’s only when he finally manages to tear his gaze away from you, with the same effort it takes to fell an akula, that he notices Tsu’kae is no longer on the sand amidst the dancing Metkayina. In fact, he’s on the outskirts, conspicuously sliding closer with slimy, transparent steps to get closer to you.

With a fierce stab of selfishness for what is his, Aonung finds his arm – the one caging you beside him – sweeping closer and bringing you with it, so you’re gently slid along the long till you’re pressed against his solid side.

You squint up at him with slight suspicious confusion, and he almost misses that little tense, gleam in your eyes. He can also hear the gentle, warm beats of your heart pick up, but he puts all the possibilities of reasonings of that from his mind to watch with cold irritation as Tsu’kae finally makes his way besides you.

“May I sit here?” he asks, glancing dubiously at the log.

Aonung, with a sudden desire to kick himself for his carelessness, realises to late that in pulling you towards him, he mistakenly left space on the log for someone to sit.

Unfortunately, Tsu’kae misses Aonung’s glower, which was a clear dismissal of the inferior warrior. You, finally, seemed to have some tiny inkling of the situation, because you glance briefly up at Aonung as though asking if Tsu’kae can join you.

The clear answer was no, but Aonung knew you well enough to guess that your unfortunate habit of masterfully ignoring unspoken orders may be about to be practised. Instead, he settled himself on a much more enjoyable option.

“Sure,” he rumbles to Tsu’kae, who looks a little startled, as though he wasn’t expecting to get personally addressed by Aonung.

Before he can sit beside you on the log, Aonung’s reaching over to lift you up and settle you comfortably in his lap. You let out a small squeak of surprise to find yourself suddenly lifted as though you weigh nothing. Tsu’kae watches with mingled fascination and strange terror at Aonung’s plain message – you cannot have her.

Yet maybe Aonung didn’t completely think this plan through.

You’d never sat on his lap before, and although he’d often thought about it, how your squishy thighs and curvy hips would feel resting softly over his own would feel, how light and small and delicate you’d be against him, this was completely different.

He can feel everything about you. Your thighs – almost completely bare as the fabric of your clothing hitches all the way up to your ass – are pressed against his own, your skin all warm and soft and so velvety, deliciously smooth. Your body is still slightly tense despite your feigned nonchalance, and he can feel the tightness of your body resting on his.

And he can smell you. It’s warm, just a comforting, familiar scent that he spends all day breathing in, memorising and filing away into the back of his mind where, in the shelter and privacy of his own marui in those helplessly longing night, he can build up that image of you in your imagined lewd actions for him and to him. There’s something over the top of it, something new and flowery you must have just applied for tonight.

He has to fight a physical urge to just bury his entire face in the warm of your neck – your soft hair falling around him – and simply scenting you to the point everything else just completely ceases to exist and with his eyes closed and heart thumping, all that surrounds him is you and your warmth.

It takes Aonung a moment to remind himself where he is, surrounded by everyone, sitting beside the still-gaping Tsu’kae. To remind himself that it isn’t just the two of you alone, and especially that you are only friends, and it would probably be a little surprising if he finally just succumbed to all the filthy desires that suddenly seem a thousand times stronger than usual.

You’re finally relaxing on his lap, muscles untensing and breath coming in soft nature. The only downside is that when you loosen a little and stop sitting like there’s a splint to your spine, the soft curve of your ass, barely even covered by your clothing now, settles inches away from his crotch.

Aonung has a small surge of panic when his blood rushes south, but he just masks his soft groan as a hum of appreciation for the dance.

Eywa, he really didn’t think this through.

Never once had he taken the warnings of his mother, father, sister and basically the whole rest of the clan to heart – never once accepted that one day, his impulsivity might have consequences.

But the thought of what you might do when you realise how hard your so called “friend” is by you simply sitting on his lap is too much to bear.

What if you think he’s some crazy sort of desperate perv? What if you never see him the same, and everything is ruined and awkward and dangerous between the two of you? What if you tell Neteyam and Lo’ak and they beat the absolute shit out of him for acting like this?

Fuck.

From the corner of his eye – Aonung’s too scared to move enough to properly turn his head – he can see Tsu’kae all awkward and stupid and helpless. It should now be quite obvious his position in this situation; that he has no place here, anywhere near you.

Now getting over your surprise of being suddenly nestled in your friend’s lap, you’re starting to settle back. You’ve rested yourself against his chest, and he grits his teeth, jaw clenched and fangs sinking lightly into his lip.

Your hair is pillowing your head lightly where it rests, barely even at his chest and right below the fang of his necklace. Your back – nearly completely bare with the low cut of your soft clothing – is settled firmly against his abs, and the warmth your skin on his is oddly comforting, mollifying his slight ferocity.

The soft, sweet scent of you is closer now, more obvious below whatever that other flowery smell you’re wearing is, and Aonung tries his best to keep his breathing even so you won’t notice how he’s breathing in your scent.

But trying to act like just the proximity and scent and feel of you isn’t getting him hard is more difficult than it looks, and Aonung strains his brain to think of ways to delay the inevitable of when you finally notice the ever-growing tent in his tewng.

“Would you like anything to drink?” Tsu’kae offers after a moment of tense silence that you don’t seem to notice. Aonung wonders faintly if your human senses just don’t pick up this sort of tension, or maybe you really are just infuriatingly, endearingly oblivious.

“Yes, thank you,” you say, shifting to give him a little smile.

A fierce stab of strange jealously blossoms like fire inside of Aonung, suddenly scorching his veins and he has a sudden desire to smack that returned, almost-shy-to-hide-his horniness smirk off Tsu’kae’s face. He probably would have, had you not leaned back against him and shimmied your soft ass to lay right over the ridge of his hardened cock.

Aonung gives a sudden jolt, nearly tossing you unceremoniously from his lap and even more mortifyingly - accidentally grinding his tented, straining tewng against the curve of your ass.

There’s a moment in which Aonung thinks you are about to scream at him, turn and curse him out for his lewd state. He can hear your heart pick up suddenly, see the tips of your small, roundish ears go slightly pink, watch a flush creep along back of your neck.

“Do you mind?” you grumble. “If you’re going to try cockblocking me, at least don’t nearly throw me around. I was perfectly comfortable, you bumbling skxawng.”

Aonung blinks in sluggish silence, your words sinking into his brain till he realises with an overwhelming surge or relief that you didn’t notice. Eywa, he’s never been so thankful of the simplicity of human anatomical function.

“I’m not trying to cock block you,” he says instead, and you scoff.

“Please,” you say stoutly, and Aonung can just imagine you rolling your eyes in that amused way you always do. “You really have no idea how conspicuous you are, dumbass.”

“I am not,” Aonung says with a frown, ignoring the human name he doesn’t understand. “Besides, you could do much better than the likes of Tsu’kae.”

“Really?” you say coolly. Aonung suddenly can’t picture what your face looks like; your tone is completely unreadable as though you’re trying to make it even, hiding whatever you’re actually thinking right now. “And what is so terrible about Tsu’kae?”

“He’s dim-witted,” Aonung points out. “Slow, unreliable, terrible at spear throwing-”

“Ah yes,” you interrupt, “everything I look for in a hook-up; his spear throwing abilities.”

“And he’s obviously just horny,” Aonung adds, ignoring the now painful tent in his tewng and the heavy irony of his words. He looks pointedly across the party, and you follow his gaze to see Tsu’kae standing with his friends, drinking heavily from a flask, getting a few hyping smacks from his mates as they no doubt discuss you.

“So someone would just have to be horny to fuck me?” you huff, turning your neck to glare at him. Aonung bites down a small groan as you accidentally shift on his crotch. “There’s nothing else endearing about me, it would just depend on their arousal?”

“No,” Aonung says quickly, but your scowl is deepening the longer it takes for him to find the right words – ones that don’t give away his own… excitement. “There is nothing wrong with you-”

“Who said anything about there being something wrong with me?” you snap, brows furrowing and face now torn between fury and something he can’t quite make out.

“No one- nothing- what?” Aonung stammers, confused at why you’re suddenly so upset. “You are just far too good for Tsu’kae. He does not deserve your time.”

“Then who does?” you ask sullenly, slightly folding into yourself, yet you still don’t pull away from your seat in his lap. “What about Sokzu-”

“He is arrogant,” Aonung shoots the idea down.

“What about Ta’ru-”

“Incompetent,” Aonung interrupts again.

“Or Kayo-”

“Lazy-”

“Zäki?”

“Seriously,” Aonung says firmly, now frowning too. “Do you seriously think any of these skxawngs are worth your interest?”

Your mouth twitches at his words, though he still has no fucking clue what you’re thinking.

“What are you trying to say, Aonung?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he says truthfully.

You’re still looking up at him, eyes large and shimmering in the light from the fire and scattered stars. Aonung swallows, gaze darting quickly down to your glossy lips before fixing back on your face. He can’t look away.

“I brought you unilpay,” a voice interrupts.

You both turn to see Tsu’kae standing there, looking a little rumpled and disorientated. It couldn’t have been more obvious that he’s drunk now, and Aonung doesn’t fail to notice your nose scrunch for an instant before you smooth out your face and take it with a small smile and a thank you.

Completely oblivious and obviously stupid, Tsu’kae continues to stand awkwardly, before he seems to gather enough courage to ask, “Would you like to come for a walk, tawtute?”

Instantly, Aonung’s blood has turned to ice. He doesn’t even look at you before snapping, “She’s good.”

Tsu’kae’s face falls in a small frown, and he, – stupidly – drops his own flask on the sand to clench his fists.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” he slurs. “I was talking to her.”

“And I gave you an answer,” Aonung counters, eyes narrowing at the disrespect this meager warrior is displaying. “She’s not going to go anywhere with you.”

Again, Tsu’kae fails to pull himself together and show the proper respect. He steps closer, face pulled into a little frown as he raises his brows at Aonung.

“And what are you going to do to stop her?” he leers. “If she wants to come?”

“Do you want to go?” Aonung asks you, a small furrow between his brows as he looks down at you. You’re all wide-eyed and wordless, eyes darting between Aonung and Tsu’kae who scowls.

“Of course she want-”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Aonung hisses through gritted teeth. “Do you want to go with him?”

Your lips part. You don’t seem to have any answer to give, and you just stare blankly at Aonung, still seated in his lap. Finally, Tsu’kae’s drunken patience seems to have run out, and his hand closes around your tiny wrist.

“Come on taw-”

You’re no sooner pulled helplessly off Aonung than he’s on his feet, then finding his fist sinking satisfyingly into Tsu’ake’s jaw. The stupid warrior lets out a surprised grunt and stumbles back, dragging your little figure with his weight.

“Let her go,” Aonung says coolly, reaching to grab your other arm.

It’s a little awkward, and you’re wincing slightly at the grip of each arm clutched by the two men. People are starting to turn and stare now, and you’re struggling to free yourself.

“Now,” Aonung adds.

Reluctantly, Tsu’kae lets go of your wrist with a frustrated huff, and you flinch at the angry red mark on your skin from where he touched you. Aonung’s heart thuds irately at the mark, and he gently pushes you behind him.

“Touch her again,” Aonung hisses, stepping closer to hide your nervously watching figure, “and I kill you.”

Tsu’kae just laughs, before making to shove Aonung backwards. Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t shift in the slightest, and Tsu’kae stumbles into Aonung, who grips the skxawng by the back of his neck. Instantly, Tsu’kae winces away, averting his eyes and vainly trying to get away.

“Pathetic,” Aonung says coolly, pulling him up to study him further. “You actually thought you’d get to have time with her.”

Tsu’kae lets out a small hiss and brings his fist up to smack into Aonung’s cheek. It isn’t particularly painful, but a blow is a blow and Aonung tosses him to the side. He slams unceremoniously into the sand, where he’s met with small stifled laughter and disapproving glances. You’re still gaping at Aonung, who gently kneels beside you.

“Are you alright?” he asks softly. You nod, eyes raking over his face before your fingertips reach out to trace lightly over the mark of Tsu’kae’s laughable punch. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

No one else makes a noise, but Aonung can feel all eyes on your retreating backs as he leads you away. He can still feel the burn of disbelieving attention on him as the party fades away and the woven walkways of the village come into view. More importantly, he can feel eyes on you, and, desperate to make sure you don’t feel uneasy, he places a wide hand on your back to lightly steer you in front, out of the way of prying eyes.

When he drops you off at your marui, it’s with a strange ache in his chest.

You look tired and the gloss of your lips is nearly completely gone now. You smile up at him at the entrance, but when he turns to leave, he can sense your drunkenness. Not for the first time, he curses how strong na’vi alcohol is to you, and before you know what’s happening, he’s turned back and steered you all the way into your marui and laid you down on the bed.

“Here,” he instructs, handing you a small flask of water. “Drink this before you sleep.”

“You’re looking after me,” you smile stupidly. Aonung wants to kick himself for not noticing how tipsy you had been in the distraction of everything, but he just rolls his eyes at your dopiness.

“Well, I didn’t go to all this trouble tonight to just leave you like this,” Aonung says wearily, reaching for one of those black stretchy things you use for your hair and clumsily tying it back for you. “Eywa, you’re just going to have to sleep in this.”

“I wanted to look pretty,” you mumble softly, a small furrow forming between your brows.

Aonung could have sworn those words could have punched the breath out of him – and he fights down a desire to tell you just how pretty you look, how you always look.

Instead, he just gently pats your forehead and whispers, “Just get some sleep.”

You nod obediently, never taking your eyes off his face as he fusses about, straightening your bed, making sure there’s water beside you. But when he turns to leave, you softly whisper out his name.

Aonung turns back. You don’t say anything, just continuing to stare at him. It’s a tense moment of silence, until you finally sigh.

“Goodnight,” you whisper. Aonung doesn’t reply, just giving you a soft smile.

It’s not until Aonung’s back in his own marui, flopping down onto his bed with a groan, does he remember exactly what had happened.

It’s filthy and humiliating, that the second he remembers the moment – the scent and the proximity and the feel of you seated in his lap – his tewng is growing stranglingly tight once more.

This has happens much more than Aonung would ever readily admit. He tries his utmost to not even think about it. But once more, he can’t help but palm himself lightly through the thin fabric of his tewng that has put up quite the struggle tonight.

Eywa, just the thought of you at that party – hair flowing over your bare back, the glow of your skin and the softness of your thighs, breathing in your warm sweet scent, the same one that’s now slowly fading from his skin that you had been so gloriously pressed against.

Fuck.

Really, who is this hurting? he justifies himself as he impatiently tears away his tewng. It’s just to take the edge off. It doesn’t mean anything.

Filthy. Lewd. Wrong.

But he can’t bring himself to process all the copious issues of what he’s doing when everything about you is fresh in his mind, stuck in his mind, and using that young horny man logic that dubiously validates each of these moments, he lets himself sink into those coarse imaginations.

There’s a million of them, layered on top of one another, flooding and racing through his mind.

Ones in which you’re squirming under him, ones in which your soft thighs are nestled tightly around his face. Ones with your head thrown back as you top him, ones where you’re arched against the floor, tears streaming down your sweet, pretty little face as his hips rut into your own.

When he accidentally tightens his grip around himself, he imagines just how much better your hand would feel around his length, all small and silky and smooth.

There’s something just so filthy about this.

You are his little friend - his - but what would you be thinking if you knew he did this?

Even so, he can’t help remembering just how right it felt to have the soft curve of your ass nestled right up against his crotch, and then he’s speeding up with helpless, lewd desperation.

Your lips, all glossed and plump and parted to glorious perfection swim in his mind as he fails to stifle a sharp groan. The thought of them brushing over his own, over his chest, wrapping light and tight and warm around his length does him in with searing speed.

His release, spilling hopelessly and copiously into his tightened fist, blazes with the hot shame of it.

Aonung has felt this familiar embarrassed self-disgust before, quite a familiar after effect of these nights filled with thoughts of you, but this just feels so much… more.

Your words come to cross his mind again; “Why would people be attracted to me?”

The real answer is how could anyone fucking not be.

But that wasn’t entirely satisfactory, because Aonung was fully prepared to murder anyone who had the foolish balls to pursue you.

His little friend.

That same blazing shame doesn’t go away after a restless nights’ sleep.

Aonung wakes up, amidst the unwelcome sunlight filtering into his marui, to find that he can’t bring himself to face you quite yet. Of course, it’s just his luck that when he drags himself up to deal with the impatient hammering at his entrance, he’s met with you.

“Morning!” you say chirpily, which tells him clearly that you’ve mostly forgotten the events of the night before. “Tsireya’s forcing me to come to the beach, and I refuse to go without you.”

Aonung’s about to make some lame excuse, based loosely of his clan duties and his tiredness, but then your words process.

“You will go swimming?” he asks dubiously.

“Yup.”

And that does it.

Aonung has been trying to get you to come swimming for months, and he has to fight that little twinge of jealousy that it’s Tsireya that finally managed to convince you. However, when you bound away to where Tsireya, Rotxo, and the Sullys are waiting, Aonung finds himself following thoughtlessly.

You’re chatting animatedly with Kiri and Neteyam, and Aonung allows his eyes to quickly wander over you as he trails behind the group.

You’ve changed out of your short black clothing, though Aonung is delighted to find that once again, you aren’t hiding as much of your body as you typically do.

The little shorts you are wearing are just that. Little. They barely stretch over the curve of your ass, and ties of bikini bottoms are poking up out of the low waist. The top you’re wearing – a simple white tank – is also perfectly tight enough that Aonung can see the faint outline of a triangular bikini top.

The part that nearly makes his knees buckle is the slim line of your stomach visible between your top and shorts, where he can see the perfect soft squidge of your figure, and the little jiggle of your thighs with every step you take.

When you make it down to the beach, sun warming your skin and the soft ocean lapping against the sand surrounding you, you manage to surprise him further.

You don’t follow the others immediately into the water. You unbutton those little shorts and shimmy them down your body, before reaching up to tug off your top.

Oh.

Fuck.

You really had been right; Aonung had no idea how conspicuous he was.

Suddenly, after all that training of mastering himself, he simply cannot wrench or drag or tear his gaze away from you. Instead, he stands awkward and gaping like an idiot at the sight of you almost completely bare.

After so long of needing his imagination to picture you like this, seeing your body this gloriously bare could damn well killed him. In fact, Aonung’s sure even with your tawtute senses, you would surely know his heart just stopped, his blood heating, his brain stalling.

But you just shoot him a cheeky, knowing grin before innocently asking, “What?”

“Nothing,” Aonung clears his throat, painfully aware of his flushed face. “Should- uh – should we get in?”

You just roll your eyes at him and race in. He doesn’t watch the sway of your body as you slowly go into the water. He doesn’t need to resist the urge to just pick you up again, maybe even help you with your breathing.

He supposes he should be impressed with your swimming, but your size and ill adjustment to swimming in the ocean – especially beside na’vi – slows you down, and eventually he ends up just offering you a hand. He highly suspects that you’re not even swimming, just allowing yourself to be pulled leisurely through the water, but he isn’t going to complain.

You have this adorable little look of awe on your face, as though you thoroughly regret only now coming swimming after months of being begged to. Aonung faintly wonders why you never did come.

After a while, you all swim back to the shallows. The Sully’s, Rotxo and Tsireya are all running and splashing around, and Aonung notices you struggling to tread water (he notices with a small smile that you can’t reach the bottom).

“You good there?” he grins, wading over to you.

“Yep,” you huff, kicking up to keep your head at least above the water.

“Need a hand?” he snickers. “You look like you’re having a little trouble. Do yo-”

“Just get over here skxawng,” you grumble.

The moment he’s in arms reach, you’ve wrapped your arms around his neck and straddled your legs tight around him. You huff a little for breath, resting your face in the crook of his neck, warm breath fanning across his sensitive skin.

Tsireya looks over, and she shoots her brother a small, knowing smile. Aonung just rolls his eyes back, but he finds himself shifting you around his body so he can somewhat cradle you – your body wrapped around his side, supported lightly by one of his arms.

“You know,” Kiri says with delicate mirth, “we should be heading back soon, right Ro?”

“Yeah,” Rotxo agrees, looking equally happy at the sight of you (even if unintentionally so) cuddled against Aonung. “You coming Neteyam?”

“We’ll come too,” Tsireya grins, tugging Lo’ak along behind her.

You watch them all go, still slightly breathless. Aonung has a small suspicion you know exactly why they’re leaving, but you make no effort to shift away from him, and you wave them off.

Tsireya has to give Lo’ak and extra hard tug to pull him away. The Sully boys’ brotherly protection has always been a reason Aonung kept the truth away from you, but he thinks at this point he really just is completely conspicuous.

“Are you alright?” Aonung asks, pulling back slightly to push your head from your face.

And suddenly, he notices something.

There’s none of that fierce, bantery spark that blazes between your eyes. Instead, you’re just staring at him with complete and utter… something.

Aonung has never wanted more that you had a tail and na’vi ears so he can better gage your thoughts, but you’re just completely unreadable.

Your eyes are raking over his face; he can feel their trail burning into his skin as though you were physically touching him. You’re inches away.

He clears his throat.

No no no.

Eventually, you tread out of the water to stretch in the soft sand cast into relieving shade, beneath the shelter of the tropical canopy. Aonung lies down beside you, throat feeling strangely tight.

There is something different. Something off.

And there’s a sinking feeling that tells him things just won’t go back to normal. Which is why he decides he needs to settle this out.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he says quietly, staring up at the canopy above.

It’s green.

You give a little hum of acknowledgement.

“What for?” you reply quietly.

“For causing a little scene,” Aonung says quietly.

He counts seventeen little pink flowers in the tree above.

“Right.”

“And cutting you off,” he adds in a mumble.

He thinks there might be several birds hiding between the spindly, delicate fronds.

You don’t reply. He still doesn’t risk a glance at you.

“And for upsetting you.”

There’s another moment of silence. Aonung swears you must be able to hear his heartbeat. You exhale slowly.

“I’m not upset,” you say quietly.

Aonung turns to look at you. You’re also looking up at the canopy, wet hair spilling over the sand, body glittering with the droplets of water still shining on your skin. You swallow.

“You aren’t?” he asks, trying not to sound too relieved. You shake your head slightly, still not turning to meet his gaze.

“Nope,” you sigh, wearily popping the p. “It’s just- um… why did you do it?”

“Do what.”

“The whole thing,” you say, gesturing in front of you. “Of protecting me and making sure I didn’t make a mistake. Plus the… the um…”

Aonung stares in disbelief. He’s never seen you go this long without loudly and shamelessly voicing your opinions. The struggle to get out a single sentence is really quite unnerving for him.

“The whole kill him if he touches me thing,” you blurt in a quick breath, face flushed and eyes refusing to meet his.

It’s Aonung’s turn to blink. He does so in owlish silence, watching the light filtering contentedly through the canopy above while his mind works furiously to find a legitimate answer to your question.

“You are small,” Aonung says finally, carefully tiptoeing around the truth, but really, any more time to think is quite unacceptable given the length of his ponderous silence. “And delicate and sweet. I do not wish anyone-”

“I am not weak,” you interrupt, a small frown on your sweet little face. “I don’t need you to protect me.”

He swallows heavily. Those words feel suddenly painful in his chest.

That’s who he was – he protected you, even if you didn’t know it yet. He was the one that stood by you, stood over you, and that warmth and shade he cast over you meant so much more than you thought.

Eywa, how well he could protect you if you let him.

You must have noticed how those words hit him – how his ears drooped and tail swept dejectedly through the sand.

“Aonung?” you say quietly, propping yourself up on one arm and staring at him. “Is there something bothering you?”

“No,” he says, far too fast to be believable. Your mouth twitches in a wry smile, and you scoot closer.

“You always were a terrible liar,” you whisper. At Aonung’s bitter little huff, your smile widens slightly, before fading entirely. He wants to do anything to bring it back. “At least - you could never convince me.”

“Fine,” Aonung mumbles, resigning himself to the fact that there’s no going back.

He knows you know something’s wrong, and he can tell that this friendship is already crumbling away into something else – something unintelligible and unfathomable to him.

“They are not fit for you, tsawksyul.”

You flinch back, and Aonung wonders faintly if it’s because of the name, or his words, or the harsh desperation with which he spoke them, and he reaches slowly for you. You lean back from him, face twisted with confused hurt.

“Then who is?” you say dully.

“Not anyone here,” Aonung tells you.

Once again, he has no idea how to gage your feelings. It’s strange really, that he’s gone from how lustful and filthy he was last night to how just overwhelmingly… fluffy he feels right now.

But apparently you aren’t finding his words how he intended them, because your face is twisting in a very obvious scowl.

“So… I don’t get anyone,” you say.

Aonung isn’t stupid, he sees the way your eyes are narrowing to indicate the very clear correct answer to your trembly question, but then again, he is stupid when it comes to you.

“You don’t need anyone.”

Instantly he knows that was the wrong thing to say. Your chest seems to swell and your face flushes as you sit upright and glare at him.

“Right,” you snap.

“Have I upset you?” Aonung asks slowly, wondering what he did when his brain feels as though it’s made of jelly.

“Nice observation sherlock,” you huff. “You’d want me to end up all sad and alone with no one to love me, just so I don’t fuck some of your clan mates? What, are you jealous or something? Do you think that you’d be that much better?”

No sooner are the words from your mouth then Aonung’s body betrays him – reacting before his mind can process. But the way he flinches back and flushes makes you freeze, and your eyes widen.

“Well…” he stammers, trying to dig himself out of this stupid hole he got into. “Yes?”

“And why is that,” you huff, standing up on your little legs, barely at his height and fist balled with rage. “You really think you’re that much better than everyone else? I thought you got over your cocky entitlement phase but now here you are, desperate to show that you’re the biggest, hottest thing in the clan.”

Aonung’s brain is too muddled to think. This is all going so, so wrong.

“No!” he says quickly, so desperate to try and speak properly that his voice comes out as something of a shout. You look shocked for a moment, flinched back from him, and he instantly reaches towards you. “I’m sorry-”

“You know,” you say stiffly, stepping out of his reach, “I thought you weren’t like this anymore. God, I wasted so much time, and you only ever started noticing me in this way when you found out I – as an adult woman by the way – was not some little … celibate fucking nun!”

“In what way?” Aonung asks, confused.

You let out a noise somewhere between a sob and a furious growl, then let out an unnerving laugh.

“Are you fucking serious?” you snap. “You’re the most self-centered person I’ve ever met! I thought we grew up, that not everything would be a competition and we could have a mature friendship if we could never be… UGH! But you are genuinely the most infuriating, entitled, interfering, emulous ass I’ve ever had the misfortune to befriend! I mean what is wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you,” Aonung says, frowning.

“Well there obviously fucking is if I love you!”

You freeze. So does he.

Your words – irrevocable, irreversible and so gleamingly inescapable hang in the still, tense air.

The beach is completely empty albeit the faintly lapping waves and drifting shade of the trees, and of course those words. The ones that change everything, break everything, ruin the friendship you have spent years building.

Aonung just sits in dumbfounded, perplexed silence. Breath after breath. He seems to have forgotten how to breathe, and in the strange, almost reminiscently ironic moments he takes to try and figure it out, you’ve turned faintly green, flushed deeper than the flowers above you, then paled in blunt mortification.

“Oh god,” you whisper, covering your face when your brain kicks in and you remember to move. Aonung still hasn’t said anything, and even though he can see that’s breaking you, he just isn’t able to speak. “Please… say something skxawng.”

Silence.

“Oh god,” you say again, shaking your head, lip trembling slight. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything- I’m just going to-”

“I love you too.”

“Please just forget- wait what?”

There’s a moment when everything stops. The sea seems to stall, the wind dies and the canopy stiffens. Aonung notes that your hair is still being blown gently in some absent breeze.

Your eyes look slightly red and slightly wet and your lips are parted in surprise. The longer Aonung stares at you, the deeper that little frowning furrow between your brows grows. He’s vaguely aware of his heart thumping – so loud and fast that under different circumstances, he may have even been worried about it – but he can’t summon any thoughts into his brain.

“Since when,” you whisper. Your voice is nothing more than a trembly breath, and if Aonung hadn’t been na’vi, if he hadn’t been watching you so intently to gage that your lips moved, he would have still been trapped in this tense silence.

“Since fucking forever,” he groans, rubbing his face tiredly. “I thought you were supposed to be all smart and all-knowing when it came to romance and crushes and shit.”

“Just because you are completely and irrevocably stupidly oblivious,” you scoff, “does not make me a genius in comparison.”

“So we’re just two little lovestruck idiots, then?”

“Guess so.”

There’s a moment of silence before it really does process to both of you. Aonung’s head snaps up, eyes wide and lips stretched with a fat dopey smile only to find yourself already launching yourself into his arms.

When he catches you, he’s sure he’ll never be able to let you go. Your hands reach to cup his face, which seems comically large in comparison, smiling in delighted disbelief before you let out a small, wet laugh.

“God, I love you.”

Aonung doesn’t even respond- barely even processes your words beyond a surge of overwhelming ecstacy, and presses his lips to yours.

Fuck.

Eywa.

How had he managed to go this long without this.

All those moments staring at your lips meant nothing when compared to the actual feel of them; soft, warm, tentative at first as you brush them over his own. There’s something so sweet about you, and he has a blissful idea that you’re melting on his tongue.

Aonung can feel those last tenterhooks of your friendship splintering and tearing apart at the feeling of your lips against his.

Well, good riddance.

Aonung’s hand finds its way into your hair, hand resting steadily on the back of your neck. Your mouth is small, cushioned by those soft warm lips, but you open your mouth wide and eager, hungry and tentative and exploratory and everything in between.

You’re making all these little huffy noises, as though desperate for breath but unable to pull away from him. When your smooth, small body shifts to press itself closer against him, Aonung groans unrestrainedly into your mouth, and he swears to Eywa you could kill him.

When he’d imagined this – during those late nights hidden deep in his marui fisting his cock – you’d been different. Sometimes you’d be sweet and nervous and tentative, at others you’d be desperate and ravenous and impatient.

Nothing could have prepared you for this, not even his copious, overwhelming dreams and hopes and desires for this. Nothing could have readied him to have you here and now, lips against his, tongue pressed against his, bodies tight against one another.

He’s so hard he thinks he might actually die, but he’ll be damned to pull away to deal with his own needs. All that matters now, all that exists right now is you, your scent, your lips, your body all beside him and around him and so hungry for him.

When he’s worried you’re quite about to suffocate, he slides his lips sideways to press hungry kisses along your jaw. You let out small, breathy gasps, fingers tangling in his hair, arms clinging tight around his neck to steady yourself as his lips find their way steadily back to you.

As your lips smash onto his once more, Aonung marvels at the way his hand – splayed out to hold you up – spans across the whole damn length of your back. When his fingers lightly trace their way up your spine, you shiver against him, soothed by his hand carding gently through your hair.

Your tongue licks lightly over his fangs, and Aonung, surprised, jerks back at the strange sensitivity. That felt different, and he wonders faintly how in all the meaningless, irrelevant kisses he’s shared in his lifetime, that’s never happened before, or at least made him feel so sensitive.

“You good?” you smile against his lips, but he suspects it’s more of a smirk. You know exactly what you’re doing.

“Yeah,” he says, feeling breathless and completely inflamed. “Yeah… I’m good.”

Your tongue teases over his fangs again. When he moans shamelessly back into your mouth, you giggle and cuddle him closer. Aonung laughs with you. It’s an almost painful relief from the overwhelming heat of the moment.

You’re still breathing heavily with that wide smile on your face when you stop giggling, but when Aonung meets your gaze, he can’t read your expression. He thinks for a moment you’re going to push him back, tell him to slow down, but then your gaze darkens ominously.

“Let’s get back,” you breathe exultantly.

“Why-”

“Because I don’t really feel like fucking for the first time with you on the sand of an exposed beach,” you grin.

“So we’re going to fuck?” Aonung asks hopefully, the corners of his mouth curling with delight.

“Up to you,” you grin, standing up and backing away from him in the direction of the village. “I mean, you could stay here in the shade, listen to the pretty birdies and watch the ocean-”

You cut off with a delighted giggle as Aonung sweeps you up as though you weigh nothing and tears off towards the village.

He ignores the stares of the clan as he storms his way towards his marui, though he must admit you must be quite the sight – you nearly completely bare in your little swimsuit, bundled up in his arms and shifty smiles stretched wide across your faces.

He practically crashes into his marui, not bothering to slip his way through the woven entrance but bursting through it and kicking it carelessly back into place with his tail.

You laugh – sweet and clear and loud – as he tosses you against the bed and crawls over to you. There’s barely a thought in his brain than you, with your breathy little gasps and hands raking through his hair and soft, warm lips.

When he buries his nose in the soft, exposed crook between your shoulder and neck, you jolt in surprise. You smell so sweet. Aonung wonders vaguely if he’s in heaven, surrounded by your arms encircling him, buried and deluged in your warm, sweet scent.

He’s extremely pleased to note you’re already starting to smell like him – a faint trace of sea breeze and amber noticeable on you, but he isn’t about to stop until you smell of nothing but him, until every person in this clan can see his plain mark on you, know that you are his and his alone.

And then he can’t stop himself from sinking his fangs lightly into that warm exposed skin.

You instantly squirm underneath him, arching up against him with a surprised gasp. You are just so soft, and his teeth sink with impossible ease into your neck. No sooner has he done it then he’s lightly licking the small pearls of blood away and pressing a light kiss for good measure.

And then he does it again. And again – adorning you with a necklace of gleaming ruby bites, better than any jewellery he would make, prettier than any pearls or shells he would collect. He doesn’t know if you understand them, that claim and those marks, but he’ll make sure you know that you’re his.

“Aonung,” you gasp, gripping at his face to tug him away and force him to look at you. “Aonung!”

“Yes?” he asks, slightly irritated you stopped him from continuing.

“I want you to fuck me,” you breathe, pupils blown wide, chest heaving with the desperation of your gasps, face flushed in glorious exultation.

“Not yet tsawksyul,” he says. A small glare is forming in your eyes, and he nearly laughs at your ravenous impatience. “You are not ready yet.”

“Yes I am,” you snap, scowling at him. “I’ve taken na’vi men before, just-”

“Patience,” he whispers, hand reaching up to rest against your face, thumb brushing over your frowning lips.

You look like you’re about to shout at him when Aonung’s hand leaves your face and finds it’s way to the little knots on the side of your bikini.

“Is this alright?” he asks gently. No sooner are the words out of his mouth then you’re nodding with irritated fervour, and he pulls lightly on the strings and slides away your bottoms.

Fuck.

His eyes are glued to that paradise between your legs, the one he’s been dreaming about for months. Vaguely and almost unconsciously, he decides when he dies, he’d prefer this heaven over anything else. His eyes quickly flicks up to you, and you must see something in his darkened, suddenly insatiable gaze, because your face is quickly flushing and your legs are squeezing shut.

“Do you want this tsawksyul?” he asks in a low voice, retracting from your body slightly so you don’t feel uncomfortable.

“Ye- yes,” you mutter, face turning an adorable pink colour.

“Are you sure,” he presses gently, reaching out to direct your gaze back to his. “We can do something else- we don’t have to-”

“No!” you gasp, eyes widening at those words. “No- I want this.”

“You have to tell me,” Aonung whispers, pressing a kiss to the perfect plush of your inner thighs, “if you don’t like anything. You have to say if you want to stop.”

“Don’t you dare,” you breathe, and he grins.

When he finally dives between your legs, it’s without the intent of ever resurfacing. You let out a surprised little gasp as he muscles his way between your pretty thighs, forcing them further apart from that meager gap you thought would satiate him.

He licks a long, tantalising stripe up your puffy lips, eyes practically rolling back at the sweet, heady taste of you, exploding over his tongue just as he spent so long dreaming about. At your reaction – accidentally bucking your little hips into his face with a choked gasp – he can guess you hadn’t been expecting the rough texture of his tongue.

He looks experimentally up at you, and you glare straight back with an impatient, expectant look on your usually sweet little face.

Fuck yes.

He sucks lightly and you practically shriek, hands tearing for something to grab onto. Unfortunately, your fingers find purchase closing around his hair – curls and kuru and all – and you tug.

Neither of you expected that groan ripped from him, the sound vibrating against you in a way that has your eyes rolling and moaning in glorious response. Aonung, who had already thoughtlessly been rutting his own hips against the ground in search of any salvation from that insatiable ache in his core, does not miss that warning heat start to coil in his abdomen.

But ever set on pleasing you, he does not lapse for a moment and ignores his own unravelling as you continue to desperately tug at his kuru. You’re already squirming and gasping for breath – only making hungry little moans and letting slip little gasps of curses and don’t stops.

He, in fact, has no intention of stopping soon. Not when you’re making all these pretty little noises, not when your own pleasure – the sounds and taste and scent of it – is nearly tipping him over the edge.

He can tell you’re close, and that’s what prompts him to slowly slide a finger into your soaked heat. With a choked moan your hand fists tighter around his hair. Aonung marvels at just how tight you are, clenching around his fingers like a vice as you struggle to adjust to his finger.

He vaguely revels in the thought of how amazing you’d feel, wrapped all tight and warm against his cock, and he moans into you.

When he knows you’re about to tip over the edge, when your eyes are rolling and your moans are becoming less words and more desperate pleading noises, he circles his tongue around your clit and sucks.

You come undone with a cry, clenching around his finger so much he can feel your whole heat aching against his ravenously laving tongue.

It’s only when your thighs (no doubt of their own accord) shut tight around his face in a glorious squeeze of soft, perfect squidge.

He isn’t sure why that’s what does it – though it is paired with your tugs on his kuru and his mindlessly rutting hips – but then he’s also pushed over that brink with a snarl you hardly even notice, too high on your own cresting pleasure.

But he has no time for shame or mortification at his early release, never even touched by you, because really, it’s a marvel it hadn’t happened earlier.

You’ve barely come down from your high when you notice Aonung still buried contentedly between your closed thighs.

“A- Aonung,” you pant, left breathless by your orgasm and the glorious sight of your best friend, all perfect and pretty, having the goddamn time of his life.

His only reply is to lightly tap the side of your thighs and mumble against your aching cunt, “Open these a little wider for me, tsawksyul.”

He vaguely notes your mouth drop open in surprise before he’s diverting his full attention to that heaven between your thighs. Your little huff of impatient is batted with your own gasp, but you – stubborn as ever – continue the struggle of attempting speech, “You-”

“Just one more,” he coaxes, licking another long stripe so his tongue catches on your overstimulated clit. Your defeated little groan is music to his ears, and a wide grip is stretched over his face as he victoriously resubmerges.

Your first orgasm has barely abated before your second is hurtling nearer with haphazard enthusiasm.

You’re whining and squirming from the overstimulation, but your desperate moans are punctuated with little gasps of don’t stop and encouraging tugs on his hair.

Aonung’s moaning into you, enjoying this quite as much as you are. His hands are holding you close by your soft plush of your thighs, tail sweeping and thumping behind him as he inevitably grows rock hard again, spurred by your euphoria.

All that exists is you. You’re so fucking wet, practically soaking into his mouth. All he can see and hear and taste is you, hips rutting against his face, hands clawing at his hair, head thrown back and moans spilling out of your gleaming, parted lips.

His jaw is aching in delicious wearing. The pain is satisfying in a strange way, and he contents himself with the knowledge he’s working.

It isn’t exactly best-friendly; the thoughts he’s having. He sincerely doubts his brain has never been this filthy, flying through all the lewd possibilities while he has you here.

“Aonung!” you slur out, thighs twitching over his shoulders as you near your high. “you need- slow down - ‘s too much.”

“You’re doing so well,” he hums against you, still maintaining his steady (and somewhat overzealous) pace.

Again, when he notices how close you are, he sucks your whole cunt into his mouth, tongue lapping at your little swollen clit as he sucks hungrily at you.

Then once again, your thighs are tensing and your moans are slurring into unintelligible whines. Your grip on his hair is iron as you gasp your way through your second high, eyes wide and lips parted as you heave for shaky, desperate breath.

Once you come down, you push at his head, tugging his hair away from your overstimulated cunt and trying to pull him back up to you.

“God- Aonung!”

Finally he relents, sitting up with a delighted little grin. You are also wearing a stupid little smile, though you look distinctly dazed and ruffled. Aonung feels a little surge of pride.

“Oh my…” you gape, eyes wide in bewilderment as you scan over him. His face is all shiny and gleaming and slicked, and you let out a little giggle as you reach out to try and wipe some of it away. “Oh my god- I’m so sorry.”

Aonung laughs with you, not in the least bothered by the mess of his face. Instead, he takes your hands in his and peppers light kisses up your arms and back towards your neck, where he is pleased to see his various gleaming bites and hickeys ornamented into your soft skin. You giggle again.

“Aonung?” you ask gently, a small smile curling at the edge of your voice.

“Mm?” he grunts, nipping another ruby bite into your collar.

“Care to fuck me now?”

Aonung pulls away an inch, trying to hide his obvious arousal as he studies your rosy grinning face.

“Are you sure?” he questions gently. “I mean you just-”

His voice dies in his throat when you reach up lightly to – tortuously slowly – pull at the strings of your top. He watches the top slide away without breath, and only when you’ve impatiently tossed it aside and grinned at him does he dare to move.

A complete sense of unreality washes over him. After imagining this moment for so long, it seems strange he cannot think of anything to do but worshipfully admire you.

He is pleased to note that, in fact, your breasts are just as soft and plush as the rest of you. They are round and full and slightly squishy in a way completely unlike na’vi, and he’s never been gladder that your aren’t just muscle, that your small body is so perfectly squidgy.

With a nod of consent from you, Aonung reaches lifts you lightly up to place you over his lap. You steady yourself with your hands on his chest, still looking a little rumpled and dazed, but he doesn’t miss that dark, mischevious gleam in your eyes as you stare down at him.

The second you’re balanced, your hand is reaching out to the tent of his tewng. You study him with greed, drinking in the sight of his arousal as though it’s what you need to live. He’s a little mortified now, but he hopes that you think the slick of your hips slightly rocking against his is why his tewng is soaked.

Your hand reaches out to trace along the edge of his tewng, eyes dark with frustrated, hungry impatience.

“Oh baby,” you whisper, your mouth twisted in strange ecstasy as you meet his flushed gaze. “Was this all for me?”

Before he can answer – though he doesn’t think he’d even be able to speak with you settled so perfectly over him – your hips slide back a little so your little palm settles right over his hardened length.

“Take these off.”

“Are you su-” Aonung starts to say, before you rock right up against his pained length and his voice stumbles off.

“Yes,” you whisper impatiently. “It’s not fair that I’m here all naked and you still get clothes.”

“I’m basically already naked and you wear clothes that cover much more than mine every day,” he protests.

“What, do you want me to get you a hoodie too,” you snap, and he knows you’re growing more frustrated and impatient with the effort of grinding against him.

He laughs, and you scowl fiercely at him.

“Just take it off Ao, I wanna make you feel good too.”

Those words practically punch a whole in him, and he feels another surge of unbearable affection for you, which is promptly murdered as you stop your movements in protest.

“You already did, tsawksyul,” he whispers.

“Not properly,” you press. “I want to do it.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Your hips rock hard against his, your bare cunt against his cock covered by that ridiculous tewng, and he feels his self-control slipping away. You must sense it too, because you’re grinning and shifting up to help him pull the last restraint between the two of you away. The tewng is thrown away with careless abandon to lie somewhere far away; there are no clothes needed here.

The small gasp you let out when you finally see him all bare and desperate and hungry makes Aonung’s heart thud painfully in his chest.

“Fuck yes.”

Your words explode from you as though you didn’t mean to say them, and a moment later you’re flushing with hot embarrassment. Aonung laughs lightly and you smile bashfully with an adorable little nose scrunch, before he’s lifting you back onto him again.

It’s bare – skin on glorious skin.

He needs to breathe for a moment, ears flattening against his head and eyes falling shut in dark pleasure. You’re so soft – thighs either side of him, breasts bouncing at the slightest movement – but you’re also so wet and warm and slightly sticky that he thinks you’re killing him.

It becomes painfully evident to him that the moment his cock pushes inside you, he’ll be fighting for his life to not come instantly. Again.

He always knew patience wasn’t your strong suit, but you’re growing more and more frustrated and he finally pulls his babbling brain together enough to flip you over to lie beneath him and align himself to your entrance.

With a small, almost pleading cry from you, with his heart thudding loud enough for you to hear, he presses in.

You’re clenching around him so tight, barely even an inch in. You’re tighter than he ever imagined, and he feels like he’s being coddled in searing perfection, so much so that he can hardly breathe as he slowly starts to push in.

When you let out a hoarse whine – the stretch is evident even to him – Aonung winces. He doesn’t want to hurt you, and the thought of you in pain is too much for him to bear. He settles himself with pulling you against him, soothingly stroking your hair.

He can’t look away from where you’re swallowing him whole. It’s a fucking addiction, a new drug. Even the sight of you slowly struggling to take him would be enough to send him over the edge, and he grits his teeth so he doesn’t come instantly and mortifyingly. Again.

And then finally, Aonung’s pushing past that tight ring of resistance and into your velvety heat.

He’s dying. He has to be. Because there’s no damn way he didn’t just go to paradise.

The breath is punched out of him in a low, desperate growl, his hands clawing into the ground to steady himself, to let you adjust, to not just completely lose his mind and bury himself deep into you.

“Holy shit,” you breathe, your voice no more than a desperate, filthy whimper as you look down. The sight of the bulge in your stomach drives Aonung fucking crazy, and he has to physically grip himself back from just slamming straight into you. “You’re all the way here.”

“Taking me so well syulang,” Aonung praises, eyes hazy with the strain and face flushed in the euphoric pleasure of your body around his. “Doing so good for me.”

He doesn’t miss the way you clench around him at the praise, the way your cheeks blush and you bite back a small, helpless moan. A good thing to know for later, and he makes a mental note to shower you in so much praise you don’t know what to do with it.

But in the meantime, he can hardly breathe through the effort of holding himself back. You’re gripping him so damn tight he thinks you might actually strangle him, the overwhelming pleasure and anticipation practically choking the breath out of him.

Your face is all twisted and screwed up, and Aonung doesn’t need to be a genius to see you’re in pain. He holds you close, whispering endless praise of how well you’re doing while reaching down to rub gentle circles on your overstimulated clit as he continues the painstaking, tortuous ascent into the heaven between your legs.

“Oh god,” you whimper, resting your limp head against Aonung’s chest, heaving for breath as you try your utmost to adjust to him. “Oh god, Aonung.”

The sound of his name rumbled from deep within your chest, coarse and raw and desperate just tips him just over the edge of mastering his control. His muscles tense as your nails dig into his chest, hips flexing somewhat and accidentally knocking into you, and you let out a strangled cry.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he says quickly, reaching to cuddle you in close, stroking your hair comfortingly. “You’re doing so well, tsawksyul.”

The words fall on practically deaf ears. You’re so flushed and radiant and ravenous that he doubts you’re even thinking straight, your face adorned with a somewhat manically exultant smile and rolling eyes as he slowly presses even further into you.

You’re clenching around him so impossibly tight, whimpering and moaning as he rocks several more inches into you. He doesn’t know what to make of your quiet sobs, whether they’re of pain or pleasure or just hungry impatience, but he comforts you nonetheless by settling his thumb gently over your clit.

Aonung couldn’t care less about how vocal he is, whispering endless praise, snarling out small curses, rumbling desperate groans against the skin of your bare neck, which is now adorned with gleaming hickeys and several smug little bites.

“Eywa, they didn’t do anything to deserve you tsawksyul,” Aonung groans, still rocking another inch into you. You give a weak, wet chuckle, and he presses a kiss to your shining forehead. “You don’t need any of them ever again, you got that? You won’t ever need anyone else.”

“Ye- yes.”

“I’ll take care of you,” he groans, hardly even aware of what he’s saying anymore. “Whatever you need, I’ll always be there with you.”

“Ao- Aonung?” you gasp, steadying yourself with a grip on his arms. “I wa- I want-”

“I know, I know,” Aonung soothes you, finally bottoming out inside you. There’s no way he would have fit all of himself in there, but he isn’t greedy, particularly when the part you could take is coddled so warm and wet and tight. “I’ve got you.”

It takes everything in him not to let loose immediately.

It’s with gentle words and a hand splayed out across your back to steady you that he pulls out an inch or so before rocking back in.

The effect is instant. You let out a strangled, lewd, filthy noise, eyes widening to round moons and mouth opening in almost dumbification. He makes a deep groan in response, pulling out again, pushing back in again, and the last pretences of friendship are shattered.

His lips find their way to your face, forehead clumsily pressed against your much smaller one, hands holding you gently – a softness at complete odds to the way he’s fucking you.

It feels sinful – the way this is so perfectly right, to have his best friend like this, all pretty and babbling and teary on his thick length.

He moans shamelessly every time his gaze passes over you – all stretched and beautiful – around him, taking everything he gives you.

The sounds you’re making are mingled pleading and sobbing, still shot through with greedy hunger. Each moan and whine and sob strike deep in him, hand in hand with the tears forming in your shining eyes.

Eywa, you’re so much tighter than he ever imagined – ever dreamed of. He’s pretty sure he tells you, but those words are lost in the stream of mingled praise and groaned curses pouring from him as he revels in the pleasure of you and you alone.

The sight of your tits bouncing at each thrust is hypnotic, and then finally his restraint is crumbling, and he dives eagerly forward to take one of them into his mouth.

You arch with a surprise cry as his mouth locks around your breast, tongue flicking over your peaked nipple, fangs trailing over your soft skin now slightly shining with the heat of his mouth. He ignores the contortion for him to do it – all discomfort is disregarded at the sounds of your pretty little whines.

He knew from the start he wasn’t going to last long, but he can see that you clearly aren’t going to either.

Your eyes are rolling, heaving for breath in the rare moments you aren’t cursing or babbling or moaning. Your hands and clutching for support, anything to cling to, something to anchor yourself so he doesn’t almost fuck you straight through the bed.

Aonung vaguely acknowledges (in some dimly functioning part of his brain), that perhaps he might be a little worked up. He’s wanted this for so long, thought about this so many times, imagined and replayed and perfected the vision of this moment, that there’s no slowing down now.

Nothing – not one of his filthiest imaginations, not one of his raunchiest desires – could compare to this. To you.

And then your mouth is opening in a hoarse, desperate cry, your fingers are clawing into the tensed muscles of his shoulders, your cunt is clenching so tight around him it’s bordering on sinful pain.

He reaches to rub circles on your poor, swollen, throbbing clit, and you practically scream.

“Fuck, fuck fuck- oh god-” you sob, shaking as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“I know, I got you,” Aonung whispers against your sweat-damp skin. He doubts you can even hear him, and he isn’t even sure he’s physically speaking all the words rushing through his brain.

It seems to almost go forever, and there isn’t a single second in which Aonung wants it to stop. You look so pretty writhing beneath him, clenching around him, panting for him, sobbing because of him, and when it finally seems to slow down, his own pleasure crests.

He’s grinning against your throat, so fucking pleased with himself. He’s so proud of the way you took him that he’s actually about to die, and when he moves to pull out, your nails dig into his arm and you shake your head furiously.

That’s that.

It all snaps in a final sort of conflagration, waves of pleasure and delight and ecstasy and overwhelming, unbearable euphoria rocking over him, over both of you, as he loses control and buries himself with a positive roar in your still clenching warmth.

He’s hardly aware of where he is, though he can vaguely hear moans and whines and curses he guesses may be his, though he can see himself filling you up to the point it’s spilling out the sides and onto your soft, shining thighs.

Aonung just allows himself a moment of selfish indulgence, of sinfully glorious exultation. Nothing matters, nothing even exists, beyond you.

When he flops onto you, shaking with heavy breaths, exultance coursing through his veins, he doesn’t bother to pull out.

You’re still so tight and strangely comforting all wrapped around him, pulsing in the glorious, tortuous aftershocks of your final climax. You don’t protest – though he’s careful to angle his body to not completely crush you.

You let him lie in delighted, satiated silence, tail sweeping happily behind him on the woven floor, head pillowed against the soft curve of your breasts, dimly admiring all the marks he left across your smooth skin.

You’re also trying to steady your breath, absently anchoring yourself to the present by fiddling with the woven cord of his necklace. Aonung notices the curved tooth is almost as large as your whole hand, and a stupid surge of affection wells in his heart.

Here you are, the prettiest little thing he’s ever seen, his best friend, seconds after the most lewd, intimate moment of your lives. What did he ever do to deserve even befriending you, let alone be your personal blanket after he may or may not have fucked you damn boneless?

“Are you alright?” he asks softly, when he’s regained enough breath to properly process your limp, heaving form.

You smile weakly and shake your head, saying, “I think you’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

“Good,” Aonung grins, shifting to nuzzle closer against your soft skin. “You won’t need anyone else ever again.”

“Oh, really?” you roll your eyes, but he doesn’t miss the way you can’t stop smiling. A moment later your hands are moving to cup his face, and he smiles back at you.

“Can I kiss you, tsawksyul?”

You don’t respond to his question for a moment, staring at him with lips parted in absolute disbelief before a loud, delighted laugh is rocked out of your little body. He frowns, confused.

“What?”

“You just fucked me near boneless,” you laugh, stroking his face affectionately, “and now you’re asking if you can kiss me?”

“Yes…?” he replies, brows furrowed. Your laughter fades and a small smile is left on your small, rosy face.

“Yes,” you smile, cheeks crinkling and eyes bright with strangely overwhelmed joy. “Yes, you can kiss me.”

And he does.

Different to before, not just full of lust and hunger and deep-rooted desperation fuelled by months of desire and affection. This is gentle, sweet, and a soft embodiment of all the warm fluffiness he harbours for you, his little tsawksyul.

He can feel your lips smiling against his own, your little heartbeat thumping against his chest as he cuddles you closer, arm wrapping protectively over you and tail draping lightly over your legs.

Then you’re giggling against him and he’s laughing with you and all the heaviness of the moment before is fading.

He realises that there had been a small naggling part in the back of his brain, wondering what would happened when you finished, when the heat and desire was gone, worried that perhaps it was just the arousal or something that was attracting you to him.

But this is the same then ever – albeit you’re naked. And in love.

Aonung smiles.

“I love you.”

You whisper the words back against his lips, legs wrapping around him to snuggle closer. He faintly dreads the moment you’ll have to pull away, but contents himself to the fact that he can cuddle you again tomorrow and the day after.

So he settles back, peppering you with kisses and light praise. After a few moments, when your breath has properly returned, you exchange some happy prediction for everyone’s reaction to you and him. He finds he couldn’t care less.

Eywa, he’s so happy to have you here.

His little friend.

──────⊱⁜⊰──────

Tagging my darlings: @hadesbabygurl @wavesarchive @kqlopsia @tadomikiku @ntymavtr @mommyanddadskiller @thehoneymushroomhealer @tsireyax @integers @tiyawnyana @whatevenisagrapefruit @oakbuggy @sunsetviper @blue-slxt @simplyawh0re@yootvi @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @vminlvxr @elegantfankidsoul @blue-slxt @neteyamssyulang @theunfortunateplace @lala-1516 @strongheartneteyam @kiskso @deadpool15 @vampirefilmlover @tysirya @universal-s1ut Please let me know if you'd also like to be added to the taglist :)

#aonung fanfiction #aonung x reader #avatar fanfiction #aonung fic #avatar smut #aonung x female reader #avatar #aonung #avatar the way of water #avatar fandom #aonung x human reader #aonung x human #avatar x human reader #friends to lovers

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voxisdaddy · 4 months

Note

after hours of punishing vox and edging him and stuff he’s so deep in subspace he just begs you to praise him 😕😕 i just love the idea of his bratty walls coming down and just wanting the readers approval, like being all weepy about it!! he puts up with so much shit (and gives out the same energy) for so long all day that he just wants his mommy to be nice to him 😔 mmfph subby vox just 😍😍

Tender

THANK YOU ANON I just wanna care for this lil needy brat so badly I swear <3 also I like how my name is VoxisDaddy and yet every time I write him in a sexual context, he's a subby bottom and occasional pervert lol

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Vox x Reader

Type: Headcanons + kinda rambly | Fluff

C/TW: Suggestive content, marking this 18+ because of it, needy Vox, tears, mommy kink, fluffy aftercare, sub!Vox x Dom!Reader, reader implied as fem im sorry :c

In which after hours of endless (pleasurable) torture, all Vox wants is his mommy's sweetest affections <3

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Whatever the fuck it is he did to deserve this overwhelming pleasure he's already long forgotten about. Poor baby's too fucked dumb :c

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Once you finally detached yourself from him, his legs fall limp against the bed, quivering. You could poke or accidentally graze his thigh and his legs would twitch rather suddenly. "Mommy" falling from his lips in short mumbles

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He would so panic when you get up to leave, reaching a clawed hand out to grasp at your arm desperately. He'd softly tug on your arm as he babbles almost incoherently

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You swear you can hear something about "mommy" in there somewhere—which is new. He normally used that term during or leading up to it, never after

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Though perhaps by now you already understand what he wants since this is likely not your first rodeo like this. Gently you'd pry his hand off of you and he wouldn't put up much of a fight sine he doesn't wanna accidentally scratch you. He'd look up at you pleadingly though; don't leave him :c

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You'd have to reassure him and kiss his knuckles softly. Saying something like—"I'm just gonna go get something to clean you up baby, I'll be right back." No longer than a few moments do you come back with a damp rag and carefully run it over his quivering thighs and the surrounding area. He lets you do this, his gaze never leaving you

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Once he's all cleaned up and not feeling so sticky anymore this man will absolutely not let you leave

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He's actually so fucking clingy, muttering into your skin about how good you made him feel and if he did a good job—asking if he's forgiven for being such a brat

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Maybe you'd contemplate this just to be a bit mean cuz he's really been unnecessarily rude lately, today being the final straw, but looking at him all clingy, teary eyed, and desperate for your love you can only sigh; "You did so good for me baby. So much self control."

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ The lights in the city didn't shut off too early this time :D

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ I feel like in his fucked dumb foggy brain, he'd silently beg to suck on your tit. Being the good boy he is, he waits for permission and goes for it—whimpers softly at your quiet praises

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Ngl I kinda see the clinging seeping over to the next day

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Like you'd be sitting on the couch sipping on your morning drink and Vox would walk over in more comfortable clothing. You'd raise a brow—he usually heads to work as soon as possible, what the hell is he still doing here? He'd wave you off, giving some kind of excuse then sitting on the floor in between your legs, resting against you as you watch tv. his arms resting on your thighs as he sits back and relaxes his sore af body

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Either takes the rest of the day off and follows you around like a lost puppy or practically clings to you as he sits in his office chair working-or maybe on your lap while you hug him from behind

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ This last one is just a personal funny thing I'm picturing and it's Vox being in a noticeably good mood that day and just giving his assistant a random ass pay bonus. Side eyeing you to see if you noticed his generosity lmao

IM SO FUCKING SORRY THIS TOOK LIKE A WEEK AND A HALF TO COME OUT ANON SVAOVBNO

Sometimes my posts get shadowbanned, I'd really appreciate it if you not only liked but also reblogged <3 no pressure, just a thought!!

#hazbin hotel #x reader #vox #hazbin hotel vox x reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #sub vox #dom reader

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lynnlovesthestars · 1 year

Text

Scars.

Pairing: Astarion x reader Genre and warnings: angst, lots of it, hurt barely any comfort, allusions to sexual assault, past trauma, graphic description of torture, kidnapping, blood, violence, set in act 3, mention of death. Notes: not proof read ngl, i wrote it after dreaming it, and i didnt even wanna read it again, i cried like a bitch cause it’s kinda like…. past experience projected? just yeah dont ask if im ok after writing this, the answer is no lmao... also just a side note since it’s the first time im posting on this profile, but english is not my first language so please be mindful about it. Edit 10/06/23: i finally went through it end edited it.. i hope i catched all the errors cause idk if i'll ever be strong enough to give it another read ahah

Getting so close to someone meant so much for Astarion, and the more he cared, the more new fears would swim through his brain.

Since you arrived in the lower city, and his bed was no longer cold at night, a new nightmare snuck in.

The idea that Cazador would be able to get to you, and weaponize you against him, made his cold blood run even colder. Several nights you woke up to a trembling and sweating Astarion, as he was begging for mercy. He never explained too much about these nightmares to you, just letting you know it was about Cazador again and again, but he left out the haunting possibility of you getting hurt because of him. On the other hand you believed it was because you were getting so close to the Szarr palace, and Cazador knew about it just as much as Astarion did.

It was the middle of the night when the sound of a broken glass stirred you awake. You looked around you, Astarion still deep into his meditating state, while the others were asleep as well, none of them reacted to the sound like you did. Maybe you just had a light sleep, you thought, and someone in the tavern dropped a few glasses or something. It was when hands gripped your wrists that you jolted up, looking behind you. It was too dark to see, and all you could spot were the deep red eyes, like Astarion's, though they lacked the warmth of his.

A shiver ran through your spine as you realized what was happening, but when you tried to call for the others, you realized how deep in shit you actually were: no sound would leave your lips, like you were silenced.

"There's no need to be afraid, Tav." A deep cold voice whispered so close to your ear. "They can't hear you".

The voice chuckled at your failed attempts to call for Astarion, Karlach or anyone, as tears were starting to pool at the edge of your eyes.

Another pair of hands took hold of Astarion, magical shackles fastened around his hands and feet, just as they did to yours, and then they started dragging you both away.

The deep voice spent the whole travel taunting you with stories of Cazador, how cold blooded he was, and just how much he enjoyed torturing his victims. From one point of view you were already accustomed with such stories about him, but from the other, the idea of Cazador getting hold of Astarion again, made your blood freeze again. You were not going to let Cazador hurt him again. You were set on the idea.

When you reached the corridors of Cazador's palace, the silencing spell finally wore off, though Astarion was still not moving. Terror flashed through your eyes as you wondered if they had already…

"What did you do to him?!" You breathed out as you tried so hard to keep your calm in front of the spawns that were dragging and pushing you through the dark hallways.

The spawn scoffed as he pushed through and through.

"Don't worry, he's not dead" You could feel his eyes rolling at the question, like it was some dumb question you should have known the answer to. "..yet" he added at last.

You couldn't stop your mouth from twitching, between the state of rage that was slowly building up, or the terror of them hurting Astarion.

"What's going on? Can i know that at least?" You wanted so bad to cast a spell on him, charming him into freeing you, but without the use of your hands, you were useless.

"Cazador wants to give you a warm welcome into Baldur's gate" He giggled, as the smell of old blood mixed with the sour taste of the bile threatening to spill from your lips, and you couldn't hold it anymore, and your feelings started spilling out.

You couldn't help then to try and get Astarion free at least. You wanted to shake those hands off of you, to wiggle out of the shackles that bound your magic, but no matter how much you tried, you were like set in stone, unable to do anything but move forward, shed tears, and talk. Or more specifically, beg.

Beg them to hurt you, instead of Astarion.

Beg them to keep you here, and let your star free.

Beg them to turn you if needed, but spare Astarion's life.

Anything, if it meant not hurting the man that stole your heart with a dagger to your throat.

Quickly you were tossed in a cage, adjacent to Astarion's, and locked in.

The shackles that bound your feet dissipated, as the cage started ascending upward.

It halted in front of an altar, you guessed, that directly faced into the chasm you ascended from. Other spawns, around twenty you were able to count, started taking seats around the edges, sitting all in religious silence on their knees.

Astarion was still passed out, cradled on the floor of the cage, both restraints still tightly bound to him.

"Please, please, please" You cried out as the last bit of your strength was going to be dedicated towards trying to get Astarion free, far away from this place. "Let Astarion go, i beg you" You repeated your plea again, as you saw all those spawns stir from their seats, they wanted to turn their heads, to face whoever was foolish enough to beg Cazador for mercy, to trade spots with Astarion.

Everyone in that room knew what was going to happen, he was going to show them what happens when you disobey, when you run away thinking you can escape him. Instead you were so foolish and blinded by love, that you wanted to take Astarion's place, unaware of the extent that Cazador would go to. Yet you didn't stop, you kept begging and begging until a voice, the voice, echoed through the altar's walls.

"Tsk you just gave me a wonderful idea" the man hummed as his scepter started glowing, and Astarion started stirring awake, he looked around him, his tired eyes quickly widening as the reality around him had set in his mind.

"Let her go, you son of a bitch" Astarion growled as he stood up so quick, and gripped at the iron bars separating him from Cazador.

"Touch her and I swear I'll spill your guts right here" He spit out of the cage, a symbolic spit cause you were too far away to reach him.

"My, my, our dear Astarion has forgotten all the manners" He cooed as his lips smacked together, his voice so honeyed it was bringing you to the verge of vomit.

You wanted to reassure Astarion, let him know that you were going to do your best to free him, that you were both going to be out of there alive soon, but could you? Could you lie so much to the man you loved? Words were stuck on your tongue, making your throat drier and drier.

You guessed you zoned out for a few seconds as your head was flooded with thoughts, missing the hate Astarion was throwing at his master.

"Ah sweet Astarion, your dear Tav has given us a great idea though, it would be a shame to let it go to waste" He hummed, as the staff light up again, the lock on your cage fell down the chasm, as your trembling body was slowly being dragged out of the cage by magic.

"No, no, no, no" Astarion reprated as his eyes locked on you, falling on the long streaks of tears running down your cheeks as you tried to offer him a sad smile, your lips muttering an "it's going to be okay" while his body was about to give in to desperation, loud sobs echoed from him, as your heart broke at his sight: he was barely standing up now, his hand gripped tight as he screamed through the hall to let you go, to not hurt you, to stop. "This is just a nightmare" He fell on his knees as you were slowly dropped on the cold floor, barely keeping your head up as you realized you were still in his shirt, the one he loved on you.

"Oh dear Astarion" Cazador cooed again as he kneeled in front of you, his cold fingers getting ahold of your chin, to tilt your head towards his. "This is not a nightmare, this is real" His words were like cold daggers through your chests, you knew that whatever was going to happen, it was not going to be fun.

Before you could say anything, Cazador's hand slipped to your waist pulling on the shirt as you flinched away, disgusted by the touch of the vampire in front of you.

But he didn't care, he was swift in removing it, leaving you bare in front of dozens of eyes.

You could hear the rattling coming from Astarion's cage as he attempted to break free over and over again while his chest was about to explode.

He didn't have the right to undress you in front of everyone, he didn't have the right to touch you at all, not when he prayed every night to have the chance to see you bare, to hold you. His thoughts were swinging back and forth between desperation and deep seethed rage.

"My, my I can see why our Astarion has fallen for this little creature" Cazador's compliment almost made you retch as you stumbled back a little. "She even puts up a fight" He chuckled as he lunged forward just enough to grip at your wrist and whipping you on your feet.

Every inch of your skin was visible to everyone, from the battle scars you got through the years of adventuring, to the teeth marks on your neck, down to the stretchmarks that lived on your hips.

A shiver ran through your spine as Cazador’s fingers grazed over the two marks on your neck. “Mh, your blood seems to be sweet enough, right Astarion?” His cruel words hit Astarion through the chest. He was one word away from a breakdown as he couldn’t do anything but witness his nightmares coming alive, not his Tav, not when he would be so careful to cradle you and comfort you to his chest whenever he'd drink from you.

Whatever he was screaming was incomprehensible to you, as all you could feel was the way Cazador gripped and pushed you towards a plush chair, where he sat with legs wide open before dragging you on his lap. You felt so nauseous as he bent you towards the arm rest, making you face the cold grey floor.

You wanted to hear the taunting explanation of what he was going to do, but all the sounds were drowned by the thrumming of your chest and the desperation in your own thoughts, repeating over and over that you were going to find a way out, trying to convince your brain to shut off and dissociate as you were there, like you were just in a nightmare, and you’d be awake soon.

All you could gather was few words like “knife”, “mark”, reminder”, and then “Astarion”. He was torturing him through you, and you couldn’t do anything about it. The worst part in this, was that you were the one that gave him the idea, cause you wanted him to free Astarion, and instead he let it all out on you instead than on your Aster, as a punishment for you both. You cause you were so careless to offer yourself though you didn't know the risk, and Astarion for being reckless and disobedient. Right there, as the dagger pierced your spine, you regretted not whispering Astarion how much you loved him, while you were tight against his chest, when the world around you was asleep, and you had a corner of peace. You always knew what you felt for him, from that moment on the beach, at the shipwreck, and yet you just wanted to tell him in the right moment. But what was the right moment? You might never know, as a broken scream broke through your lips, salty tears flowing free, so much that you thought for a moment that you might have died of dehydration, if the knife wasn’t going to do it first.

He carved and carved over your back, intelligible lines and symbols as you finally understood what Astarion meant when he told you how he got his scars. How gut wrenching the pain was as he couldn’t move, and how Cazador didn't allow a break, and retraced the lines that were wobbly if he moved too much.

“You know?” Cazador asked, as everyone’s eyes were on what he thought was a work of art, your carved skin, while Astarion’s plea echoed over and over in the room. “Our sweet Astarion used to whine just like you” He hummed. “Just a pathetic little child” He spit out like venom as you could barely breathe out few words along the lines of “you disgusting monster”, though you were not sure you actually let them out until, Cazador’s laugh filled every corner of the disgraced altar. Your tadpole writhed as another line was cut at the height of your hips, before, Cazador started retracing the lines and pulling away the skin, exposing the deepest layers of your flesh, the pain was so deep your vision blurred, and you were so close to passing out right there.

You don’t know how long you sat there, you slipped between pain and numbness as Cazador slapped you back to consciousness whenever you'd slip away, you had to endure the agonizing scarring and remember every second of it. He decorated with bloody lines almost all over your body.

You didn’t know what was worse between laying on the raw scars of your back, seeing your own skin being peeled away or the cries and sobs coming from the man you loved. You had to find a way, you couldn’t give up, you couldn’t allow this monster to walk the earth again. You had to do it for Astarion.

You were not sure when he dropped you on the floor, your body barely able to hold itself together as finally you could look around you and towards Astarion. Every face around you was stoic, like they were used to witnessing such spectacle, and they knew what was going to happen next.

You wanted to reach for Astarion, to take him away from the revolting scene in front of his eyes, you wanted to take away his pain, give him the last bit of hope you had, but when you were about to link your tadpole to his to do it, you hesitated. Connecting your minds meant he would feel how dirty, wretched and lost you felt, along with the gut wrenching pain ebbing through your body.

You could barely make out the words Cazador said as his nails dig through your skin again, even when he pulled your eyes to his you could barely read his lips as he said words you just wanted to cancel from your brain. A broken sob regurgitated from your throat as he was going to take the last thing you had. You just had to let your brain go, right? To ignore the teeth dipping in your throat and the putrid hands slithering down your skin, taking away enough blood to barely keep you alive as he took you in front of everyone. It was no longer just physical pain, it was the way you felt your own body being stolen away and used in way no one ever dared before.

Numbness was all that was left of you after a while, of your barely beating heart while more hands crawled their way through places were you never wanted anyone to touch, then, in that moment, you realized you were free of your shackles, because you were so drained and broken that you could barely do anything. You could barely by aware of your surroundings, of how many bodies were preying on you, as you could barely manage to move inches.

Your vision was all but clear, you could make out the outline of Cazador as he was buttoning up his blouse again. Then you could see Astarion, still caged, struggling to stay sane as he wanted just to take you away from the monsters abusing of you, abusing of the fact that you were powerless in front of them. His eyes were a bloodshot, he was so hurt that he resorted to supplicate for mercy, to let you go and just kill him, whatever that could stop the agonizing pain. You didn’t have much strength left, maybe if you put all of yourself, you could muster two spells before passing out again.

It took all you had to even raise your hand towards the lock that sealed Astarion’s crate, you mustered all your willpower to cast that knock spell, just enough to let the damn lock fall down. Astarion instantly turned to you, to your teary form still being touched by unworthy creatures, noticing how your hand barely held up, as you tried to cast one more spell, just for him, before another broken scream echoed in the room, bouncing from wall to wall till it reached Astarion's core. The kind of scream that should never be drawn by someone, nevertheless by you.

The radiant dagger materialized in his hands, and for a moment he didn’t notice it as he was fixated on the broken look on your face, encouraging him to end his master, although you suffered right there, paces away. “I love you” You mutter barely, you wanted to let him know before you could draw your last breath, then everything blurred.

Everything was muffled, you couldn’t see what was going on around you, you just felt all the presences around you disappear, while Astarion’s voice was crystal clear through the excruciating pain.

"I'll kill you, then I'll bring you back, and kill you again.” He shoved Cazador on the floor, just like he did with you, to remind him how he hurt you, how he used you, how he touched the only person he should have never laid hands on. “I’ll do it over and over again until you have suffered a tenth of what you did to her. Then I'm going to gut you one more time, and paint this shithole with your putrid blood. The halls of this place will reek with your disgusting blood, to let the whole city be aware of your death and from which the hands it came from” His hands were shaky, but he had to do it. For him, but mainly for you. All that was left of him was you, and nothing could ever be enough to vindicate you.

The shiny dagger stabbed over and over again through Cazador’s chest, while Astarion cursed him, every thrust of the dagger through the heart earned a new mocking insult, a new reminder of what he did, while all of Astarion's anger was channeled into annihilating him.

You just laid there, all you could do was listen to the grunts and the hate slipping from your lover’s lips as he dipped that dagger in the gutted body. You didn’t even realized when he dropped the disemboweled body on the marble, you weren’t even sure you could breathe, at that point.

A pair of shaking arms wrapped around your drained body, Astarion’s shirt was used again to cover your skin, as he picked you up, trying to be as delicate as possible. His salty tears fell over your body as he carried away from the nauseating scene, you frail body barely shivering, and your chest barely moving. He was muttering something to you, but everything sounded foreign at your hear.

He had to move quickly, find Shadowheart or Halsin, or anyone to heal you, to keep you alive. It was in this moment that he wished he could beg a deity to keep you alive, but he didn’t trust anyone else to tend you. He needed to rush outside of this place and get you to safety.

He didn’t expect to see everyone outside the locked ballroom door, as they fumbled to open the door. They were taken by surprise at the sight of Astarion cradling you to his chest, all covered in blood, while his eyes were a pit of pain and tears.

Shadowheart didn’t hesitate to heal you right there before they all guided you towards the tavern you've been resting. They all offered to carry you, to make Astarion breathe a bit while on your way back there, but he refused. “I can’t..” He mumbled. “I don’t want..” His voice was just a whisper, broken. “I need” He wanted to break down again with you in his arms, but he had to lay you down first, to let you rest in a warm bed, he had to bring you to safety again, away from anyone that could pose any harm to you. He needed to see that smile again, cause no power flowing through his veins could have replaced you. He failed you once, he was not going to do it again. You saved him, twice, he had to do it just once for you. He had to thank you, and he had to tell you how much he loved you.

#astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion angst #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #astarion x you #astarion fic #astarion romance #vault: lynn ☆#lynn: updates☆

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melodic-haze · 4 months

Note

OMG FUCKING AYAKA ABSOLUTELY SENSELESS WITH A STRAP GOT ME LIKE UGHMSGGHRKLSH LIKE IMAGINE EDGING HER MULTIPLE TIMES, SHE WAS BEING SUCH A GOOD GIRL, YET YOU DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT IT AND JUST BE CRUEL TO HER LIKE AGHDSFKKHSJGRHG AGHHHHHH (I am sane)

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Ayaka x dom!afab!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Reader has a strap, rough sex stuff, BDSM mention ig?

☆ — NOTES: Dude what if I combusted on the spot HELLOOOOOOO GOD I NEED HER (I'm not sane)

I need her to go mental PLEASE

I love the thought that Ayaka's canonically really REALLY pretty but at the same time I KNOW I'd hate it cuz of how she DEFINITELY gets hit on like a lot

She wouldn't be all that clueless of her beauty's reputation but like.......at the same time she kinda is, with the way that she kinda dismisses the attention as basically awe and reverence bc yk. She's in the Yashiro Commission

The attention just. Irks you One Too Many Times 🫶 and it doesn't help her case that she looks soooo utterly delicious, crying bc of you, so you do something about that!!!!!!

Ayaka doesn't know what she's done wrong.

She had sworn she's been behaving like a good girl for you, obeying your every command and being at your beck and call (minus when she's at work for her family's commission, you're not unreasonable), yet she was still faced with such a predicament.

Inazuma's cute little princess was clueless—was it something she said? Or maybe something she had done unconsciously to prompt you to essentially raise torturous hell on her?

She could try to rack her brains, and by archons she did try at first, and yet the only thing that she could even think of at the moment was the severe desperation for release.

The woman could see your borderline sadistic grin grow further as tears streamed down her face, cheeks almost as wet as her gushing pussy that has been mercilessly edged for.. who knows how long, by this point.

"'m sorry," she hiccuped, resisting the urge to buck her hips into your strap because despite everything, she was still your good girl, "I'm so-- mnf, sorryyy-- AH!"

You slapped her ass, pale skin already so red from the previous impacts it's had, before squeezing it roughly as you spoke, "Saying sorry and you don't even know what you're apologising for..."

"B-But I've done everything you asked of me, I--"

"Are you talking back?"

Her mouth clamps shut.

"I said--" and you grab a fistful of her hair to pull her up to your level, your hips moving as if punctuating every pause you make, "--are you.. talking.. back?"

She lets out those pathetic little whimpers of hers as she feels the tip of your faux cock bottom out inside of her in quick, deep thrusts, "I'm sss-- sorry I talked back please--"

"Please what?"

"I need to feel you move please I've been such a good g-- GIRL-- oohhhthankyouthankyou thankyou--"

You had relented to her wishes with an eyeroll, your hips practically slamming into hers as you pulled on her hair as a way to keep her upright. That along with the pain from having her hair pulled in the first place and all that pent-up lust from not being allowed that sweet release had easily helped escalate that impending high.

Ayaka knew that such a state of undress, such an expression on her face, was unbecoming of the graceful White Heron Princess but at this point? The only thing she was concerned about was being your princess, along with what she had been chasing this entire--

She doesn't register it immediately, but when she notices that you've deliberately slipped out of her cunt--

"Funny, how the Kamisato clan's very princess whines like a pathetic bitch."

Another climax absolutely ruined by you, yet she still doesn't know what she did wrong.

But she won't fight back, she won't ever fight back. She was your good girl, and good girls don't only do what they're told.

They take what they're given too, no matter what.

I don't even have much to say after writing that I'm ngl

Just that she's definitely a bit of a masochist lol

God she would just be SO FUN to toy with no matter how hard or soft you go just saying 😜😜😜😜 who knew such a reserved girl was a whore all along

There's a saying for this somewhere you all know what it is guys

Anyway enjoy 🫶

232 notes · View notes

latinasforace · 3 months

Text

Hidden feelings

A/N: update!!! ngl i hate being the reader & having to wait for an update haha so i’ll try to be quick with it. Also cuz i enjoy writing this. FORGOT TO MENTION. THIS AU & SOME OF ITS IDEAS ARE HEAVILY INSPIRED BY ARTIST @/_ceceru ON TWITTER. So definitely check your their school au one piece art to get a visual of the story :D it’s so cute. also ignore the shit editing i’m not use this tumblr stuff…

warnings: none as of yet..?

pairing: Luffy x Fem Reader

WC: 4.8k

part 1 here!!!!!

Chapter 2: Flow

The morning sun rays went through the curtains of your room, gently waking you from her sleep. You rubbed eyes and stretched, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. Today was Friday, and it was the day you planned to return Luffy’s hat.

You got out of bed and started with your usual morning routine. You brushed your teeth, washed your face, applied your usual makeup, and dressed in your school uniform. As you fixed up your hair for today, you glanced at Luffy’s yellow hat resting on your desk. You had spent a good part of the previous evening mending it, making sure it looked as good as new.

With a deep breath, you picked up the hat and placed it carefully in your bag. You went downstairs, had a quick breakfast, said goodbye to your family and headed out the door to catch the bus to school. The streets were bustling with students and commuters, and the atmosphere was lively, everyone excited for the weekend ahead.

At school, you went through your usual day. You attended her classes, took notes, and did your best to focus, but your mind kept drifting to the certain yellow hat in your bag. During lunch, the cafeteria was buzzing with activity. You spotted Luffy sitting with his friends, the Straw Hats club, their table lively and full of laughter.

You took a deep breath and started walking towards them, but as you got closer, your anxiety took over. The thought of approaching Luffy in front of all his friends felt overwhelming. You turned around and went to by your lunch mate’s table instead. They greeted you with kind gestures but didn’t bother you throughout the period, sensing your feelings of frustration and irritation.

Throughout the day, you tried to find the right moment to approach him, but he was always surrounded by people. Each time you gathered the courage to walk up to him, your nerves got the better of you.

Finally, the last bell of the day rang, signaling the end of school. Students started to disperse, eager to begin their weekend. You gathered you belongings and decided to make one last attempt. You walked through the emptying hallways, your heart pounding.

Near the bathrooms, you saw Luffy standing alone, adjusting his backpack. This was your chance. You took a deep breath and approached him, your hands nervously trembling slightly.

"Uh, Luffy?" you called out softly.

He turned around, his usual grin lighting up his face. "Oh, hey, Y/N! What’s up?"

You reached into your bag and pulled out his signature yellow hat. "I, um, found this yesterday. It was under a bench in the courtyard, so I took it home and fixed it up for you. It was really teared up from the cap part.”

Luffy’s eyes widened in surprise and delight. "No way! You found it? Thank you so much!" He took the hat from your hands, examining it closely. "Wow, it looks brand new!"

You smiled, feeling a sense of relief. "I’m glad you like it."

Luffy looked at you with genuine gratitude. "You’re really amazing, Y/N. Hey, how about I get you a drink from the vending machine as a thank you?"

Before you could respond, he continued, "Actually, you know what? Let’s go grab something to eat. There’s a small restaurant near the school, you know the pirate seafood themed one. My friends kinda busy right now, so it’ll be just us."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Um, that sounds great, but—"

Luffy didn’t wait for you to even finish. "Awesome! Meet me there in about an hour, okay?" He gave you a quick wave and jogged off, leaving you standing there, stunned.

As you made her way home to drop off your bag, change out your uniform and freshen up, you couldn’t believe what had just happened. You are going to have dinner with Luffy, alone. A mix of excitement and nervousness filled you, but you knew this was a chance to get to know him better and maybe even become friends.

The sun was setting as you walked to the restaurant, a tiny spark of hope igniting in your heart.

You arrived at the small seafood restaurant near the school a little early. It was a cozy place with a warm, welcoming atmosphere. The soft hum of conversation and the scent of delicious food filled the air, making you feel slightly more at ease. You chose a table by the window and sat down, nervously fidgeting with your hands.

After a few minutes, the door swung open, and Luffy walked in, his usual bright smile on his face. He spotted you and made his way over, waving enthusiastically. "Hey, Y/N! Thanks for waiting."

You smiled shyly. "No problem, Luffy. I just got here myself."

Luffy plopped down in the seat across from you, looking around the restaurant with curiosity. "This place looks great! I’ve always wanted to try it."

You nodded. "Mhm, it’s really nice. I’ve heard their food is amazing."

A waiter came by to take their orders, and Luffy, with his usual enthusiasm, ordered a variety of dishes, making you chuckle. You opted for something simple, feeling a bit more relaxed as she watched Luffy’s excitement.

As you both waited for their food, Luffy leaned forward, his eyes shining with curiosity. "So, Y/N, tell me about yourself. I mean, I see you around school, but we’ve never talked at all.”

You felt a bit nervous but was glad for the opportunity to share. "Well, there’s not much to tell. I like reading and studying. I like to hang out with my friends after school, uh.” You slightly lied, not finding the correct answers that will please him so you made something up.

Luffy nodded, listening intently. "That’s cool. I like hanging out with my friends too. We have a LOT of fun together. Hmm do you have any hobbies?"

You thought about it for a moment. "I like drawing and painting. It’s a nice way to relax and express myself."

Luffy’s eyes lit up. "That’s awesome! You should show me your drawings sometime. I bet they’re really good."

Your face slightly warmed at the replied, feeling flattered. "Maybe I will."

Your conversation flowed naturally, with Luffy sharing funny stories about his friends and their adventures, making you laugh. You found yourself feeling more comfortable, enjoying his company and the way made you feel at ease.

When your food arrived, you both dug in with enthusiasm. Luffy’s excitement over the dishes was contagious, and you couldn’t help but smile at his reactions. You shared bites of your meals, laughing and talking about their favorite foods.

As you finished your meals, Luffy leaned back in his chair, looking content. "This was really fun, Y/N. I’m glad we did this. And we ate really really good.”

You nodded, feeling a warm sense of happiness. "Me too, Luffy. Thank you for inviting me."

Luffy grinned. "Hey, anytime! We should hang out more often. You’re really cool, Y/N.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. "I’d like that."

You both split and paid the bill and then left the restaurant, walking side by side under the evening sky. The streets were quiet, and the stars were just slightly starting to appear, creating a scenery.

As you walked, Luffy turned to you. “Thanks again for finding my hat and fixing it up. It really means a lot to me. Like a lot. It’s from a special someone, you know.”

You smiled. "It was my pleasure, Luffy. I’m glad I could help."

You reached the corner where you guys would part ways, and Luffy stopped, looking at you with a sincere expression. “You know, you’re kinda cute, Y/N.”

Luffy gave you a quick, friendly hug, catching you even more off guard and rushing to this way. Before you could even respond, he turned and sprinted towards the bus stop that was different from yours, waving as he went. “See you tomorrow, Y/N! Oh wait— Cya Monday!”

“And don’t forget to meet my friends soon!” He yelled out from the distance before slowing down and riding on his bus home.”

You watched him run off, feeling warmness in your chest. This evening had been more than you could have hoped for. You had spent time with Luffy, shared laughs and stories, and felt a connection growing between you both.

As you made your way home, you couldn’t stop smiling. This was probably just the beginning, and you looked forward to what the future held. For now, you cherished the memories of your first little dinner together.

The weekend flew by in a blur of activity. You spent Saturday shopping with your siblings, trying to find clothes that suited your style. You had experienced a small crisis last time, picking out an outfit when you went out with Luffy, and wanted to be more prepared in the future. As you browsed through racks of clothes, she visualized different outfits, hoping to make it easier to plan ahead. You also were in need of some makeup products to try out new looks and enhance it. Your siblings also offered their opinions, turning the shopping trip into a fun bonding experience.

Sunday was a mix of chores, homework, and relaxation. You tackled your assignments in the evening, making sure everything was ready for the upcoming week. Despite the busyness, you still felt a warm, happy glow from Friday’s dinner with Luffy. The memory of your time together lingered, making you smile every time you thought about it.

Monday morning arrived, and you went through your usual routine. You got dressed in your uniform, and applied your makeup, doing a little more than usual going out for a different makeup style. You felt more confident about your appearance. The school day began like any other, and you headed to your locker to gather your things for class.

As you were busy organizing your books, you heard commotion down the hall. It was Luffy was running around, fooling with his friends Usopp, Chopper, and Sanji. Their laughter echoed through the corridor, and you chuckled at their antics.

Suddenly, Luffy came barreling towards you. Before you could react, he ran into you, knocking you to the ground. Your books scattered across the floor, and you looked up in shock. He had clearly seen you in the hallways so you didn’t think you would get caught up in the commotion or be in the way, and left completely caught off guard.

Sanji immediately rushed over to you, scolding Luffy. “Oi, Luffy! Watch where you’re going! You can’t just run into a lady like that!”

He offered his hand to help you up, his expression full of concern. “Are you okay, Miss? That was quite a tumble.”

You nodded, accepting his hand and getting you to your feet. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.”

Luffy scratched his head, looking sheepish. “Sorry about that, Y/N. I didn’t mean to knock you over.”

Sanji continued to fuss over her, making sure she wasn’t hurt. “You need to be more careful, Luffy. You could’ve seriously harmed such a beautiful girl.”

Luffy grinned, seemingly unfazed by the scolding. “Hey, guys, this is Y/N. She’s the girl I told you about from Friday.”

Usopp’s eyes widened, and he elbowed Luffy playfully. “Oh, so this is the girl you went on a date with?”

Luffy laughed, waving off the comment. “It wasn’t a date, Usopp. We just had dinner together.”

Usopp smirked. “Sure, sure. Whatever you say, Luffy.”

Luffy turned back to you, introducing you to his friends. “Y/N, this is Usopp, Chopper, and Sanji. Guys, this is Y/N.”

They all greeted you warmly. Usopp gave you a friendly wave, Chopper smiled shyly, and Sanji bowed slightly, his demeanor polite. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

Usopp grinned. “You should sit with us at lunch, Y/N. It’ll be fun.”

Chopper nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, you should! We’d love to get to know you better.”

Luffy didn’t wait for her to respond. “Yeah, come sit with us! Uh you usually sit with Vivi right?? She’ll be okay with it.”

You felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. You had always admired the close-knit group of friends from afar and now had the chance to join them. “Okay, I’d like that.”

Luffy’s grin widened. “Great! See you at lunch then.”

As they went their separate ways to class, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement. You had just been pulled into Luffy’s world, and the prospect of getting to know his friends better made your heart race. The morning had started with a bit of chaos, but it was turning out to be an unexpectedly wonderful day.

The day flew by and when lunchtime finally arrived you made your way to the cafeteria, your heart pounding with anticipation. You spotted the usual table where Luffy and his friends gathered, filled with laughter and lively conversation. Taking a deep breath, she approached the table.

Luffy waved over at you enthusiastically. “Y/N! Over here!”

You walked over, feeling a mix of shyness and excitement. The group made room for you, and you sat down next to Luffy. “Hi, everyone.”

Most of them greeting you with the kind smiles.

The table was full of energy and chaos. Luffy and Usopp were animatedly discussing their latest adventure, while Chopper listened with wide-eyed wonder. Sanji was busy serving the cafeteria line, his duty as a volunteered chief in the school.

Y/N also noticed Nami and Robin sitting together, engaged in conversation. Franky was tinkering with something, his mechanical hand making small adjustments, while Brook strummed a soft tune on his guitar. Zoro, as usual, was napping in his seat, his head resting on his folded arms.

Nami looked up and smiled warmly at Y/N. “Hi, Y/N. I’m Nami. I’ve heard from you before from Vivi.”

Robin nodded in agreement. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Robin. You seem like a very interesting person.”

You felt herself light up under their attention. “Nice to meet you both.”

Sanji, ever the gentleman, made his way to the table and placed an organized and appetizing plate in front of you. “Here you go, Y/N. Enjoy!” While motioning over

to Nami and Robin’s side and also placing their plates down with utensils.

“Hmph. No fair Sanji only bothers to serve the girls.” Usopp grumbled while getting up to line up for a plate.

Luffy and Chopper running behind him as well while chanting “food! food!”

As lunch continued, you felt herself becoming more comfortable. The infamous friend group included you in their conversations, making you feel like part of the group. You laughed at Usopp’s exaggerated stories, listened to Chopper’s excitement about his latest medical class studies, and even joined in when they talked about their favorite foods.

Luffy was his usual cheerful self, making sure you felt included and comfortable. He talked about his friends and the soccer team, explaining how much he loved the sport. “Soccer’s the best! You should come watch our game sometime.”

You smiled. “I might just do that then.”

Luffy’s eyes lit up. “Ahaha. You should meet the rest of the team too.”

The bell ring and as they all got up to head to their next classes, Luffy turned to you with a grin. “See? Told you it’d be fun. You should sit with us every day.”

You smiled back, feeling grateful for his kindness. “Yeah, it was. Thanks, Luffy.”

You headed to class and continued on with your day. Even if before you had noticed some of Luffy’s friends in your classes, you had never approached them. Since you didn’t know them and they didn’t know you, they were just any other classmate although you observed them more than others.

However, now that you were introduced to his gang, some of them now approached you in class. Starting with Nami, whom you have majority of classes with.

It was during AP Geography and Human Studies, that she approached you first. “Hey Y/N. Let’s sit together from now on. I don’t really like the people I sit with in this class.” She mentioned while taking a seat to the always empty chair next to you in class.

“Ah okay,” You replied softly. You didn’t mind her sitting with you at all, infact you hoped she would now that you both know each other. You always had a feeling you would get along with Nami, you were intrigued and inspired by her fashion and her beauty. Alongside her leadership skills and her intelligence. She’s the smartest student in this class, geography being her strongest subject probably.

“You know, you don’t have to be so tense with me. You’re always so quiet and keeping replies short. You can losen up around me. I promise I won’t judge. I want to be your good friend as well.” She motioned, with a gentle smile on her. Her pretty and expressive brown eyes gazing, seemingly analyzing you.

You shy away from her stare and replied, “Mhm okay. Thank you Nami. I want to be your good friend as well. I really admire you, especially your looks.” You hummed softly.

“Aw really? Thanks. I try you know. If you need any tips just let me know like…” She listed some out and you listened attentively. Afterwards, Mr. Cobra, Vivi’s father, made his way to his desk and settled down the class to begin the lesson. Nami and you stopped your conversation and quickly opened your notes to begin.

After the bell rung and the class period ended, you said your goodbyes to Nami for the day since you won’t be seeing her in your last few classes and rushed out to reach the PE locker room before the warning bell rings.

After changing out of your regular uniform and on top your PE one, you made your way to the gymnasium.

You usually just wandered off, never really grouping with other students and letting Mr Shanks just group you in with anybody.

You were standing there, distanced away from others as Mr Shanks explained the rules of the game you’ll be playing today.

You heard noise behind you and look back to see Zoro slowly walking to the circle formed of students in the middle of the gym. He nodded at your direction, his way of greeting and got back to listening to Shank’s instructions.

Zoro was in this class as well, however he was often very late, due to getting “lost” on the way here. You had no clue how he would get lost, sure, the school was fairly big but there was clear signs everywhere of where everything was and directions given out. It was almost halfway through the school year already. Either way. Mr Shanks always left him off the hook and consequence of getting a tardy since Zoro has a defense position on the soccer team, which Shanks coaches.

You hoped you both can get along later on so you won’t feel as alone as you feel in this class, having no companions to practice with and in general, talk while working out. You have observed Zore before and he isn’t really one to talk unless he feels comfortable around you like you seen when he walks with Luffy and Nami in the hallways, fooling around and bickering.

Shank’s whistle broke your train though and signified to get in positions for the game for today. You joined your classmates on the side of the gym, ready to give your best effort. Shanks had a way of making every activity feel like an adventure, his laughter echoing across the gym building as he encouraged everyone to push their limits and have fun.

The day flew by in a blur of lectures, assignments, and fleeting interactions. You navigated your classes with a focused determination.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, you mentally reviewed your upcoming challenges. Tomorrow was going to be a kinda busy day, with a presentation for Biology with Mr. Jinbei and a chemistry quiz for Mr. Caesar Clown. You felt a familiar twinge of nervousness but also a sense of readiness. You had prepared thoroughly, and while the thought of presenting in front of the class made you stomach flutter, you knew she could handle it.Gathering your things, you made your way to her locker and then we’re ready to go home.

You exited the school building, your backpack feeling heavier than usual with the chem book in there needed for future later today. The day had been long and stressful, filled with classes and looming quizzes. You put on your headphones, scrolling through your playlist and settled for a soothing track to calm your mind. While you like to observe your surroundings and take in all visual and sound, you also often needed music playing in your ears to ease you up.

Lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice the group of your newly made friends gathered near the school entrance until you heard your name being called.

“Y/N!” Luffy’s voice was unmistakable, full of enthusiasm. You turned to see him jogging towards you, his friends following closely behind.

“Hey, Y/N!” Nami waved, her brown eyes sparkling with excitement. “We’re going to get boba drinks. Wanna join us?”

“It’s all last minute,” Luffy added, grinning widely. “Nami was craving it, and now we’re all going together.”

You hesitated for a moment, your initial instinct to retreat into your comfort zone fighting with the opportunity to spend more time with them. But the inviting smiles on their faces made the decision easier.

“Okay, I’d love to,” you replied, a small smile tugging at your plumped lips.

The group walked to the nearby boba shop, the lively chatter making you feel a part of something special, again. You noticed Zoro trailing behind, looking half-sleepy, while Sanji animatedly discussing some food recipes with Robin, who listened with her usual calm and attentive demeanor, with Franky’s hand in hers. Brook and him engaged in a playful debate about music, and Usopp was excitedly talking about a new gadget he was working on.

Your back also felt lighter than before. Before making the sightly distanced walk to the boba shop, Sanji had offered to carry your backpack, carrying his and Nami’s as well. You were about to declined until Luffy just snatched it off your back and carried it for you, grinning cutely at you.

Continuing, he walked alongside you, chatting about his upcoming soccer match this weekend. “Shouldn’t you be practicing today? I thought practices was required every day after school.” You asked curiously.

“Oh yeah, we did but Shanks had something after school. So practice was cancelled today.” Luffy replied.

“You should come watch us practice tomorrow tho! And come to our game this weekend. Shanks always takes us out to eat if we win, and i’m sure we will so i’ll sneak you in with us.” Luffy added on, with his signature mischievous grin on his face and a little twinkle in his eyes.

“Mhm, i’ll be there. I’ll have to ask my parents for permission if it’s during the weekend tho.” You replied back, with more confidence than usual that ignited from his invitation. Your heart felt light and bubbly.

At the boba shop, you all crowded around the counter, each of them choosing their favorite flavors. You, feeling a bit overwhelmed, let them decide for you.

“Get her the taro milk tea,” Nami suggested. “It’s a safe choice.”

When their drinks arrived, they found a large table to accommodate everyone. The conversation flowed effortlessly, with Nami and Robin making sure you felt included. The group’s dynamic shone through. Luffy, being his usual playful self, grabbed a handful of boba balls and stuck them to his teeth, making silly faces. Nami and Usopp laughed, quickly snapping pictures with their phones.

“Hey, Y/N, you’re gonna love this,” Luffy said, his voice slightly muffled by the boba balls.

You chuckled softly, feeling a warm sense of belonging. Despite the chaos, there was a sense of harmony among them, and you felt yourself relax.

“So, Y/N, what do you think?” Nami asked, gesturing to the taro milk tea.

You took a sip, the creamy sweetness spreading across your tongue. “It’s really good,” you said, smiling.

As you continued to chat and enjoy the drinks, Luffy and Usopp started a mini food fight with the boba balls, much to Sanji’s chagrin. Zoro, who had snapped off his sleepy mode joined in, adding to the chaos. Franky laughed, encouraging their antics while Robin watched with an amused smile and Brook laughing with his silly ‘Yohoho’ echoing throughout the shop.

You found yourself laughing along, your earlier stress melting away. The group vibrant energy and camaraderie were infectious, and you felt grateful to be a part of it.

You noticed Chopper beside you had pulled out his chemistry notes, flipping through them with a determined look. You seeing this, decided to join him, grabbing some of your notes and reviewing for the quiz.

“You’re really serious about this,” You remarked, impressed.

“Of course! I want to do well,” Chopper said, his eyes shining with determination.

You nodded, feeling a kinship with the little brown haired guy. As you both studied, the others continued their lively conversations, occasionally glancing over and offering their good-lucks for tomorrow’s quiz.

After a while, Usopp pulled out his phone, scrolling through the pictures they had taken. “HA, send me that one. Luffy looks so stupid.”Nami laughed, while pulling out her phone, which you noticed had a clear case and a small polaroid of Vivi decorated with hearts.

“Hey, Y/N, wanna be in your group chat?” Usopp asked, turning to you.

“um yeah,” you softly replied, nodding your head.

“Give me your account info then ,” Usopp said, grinning. “I’ll add you to it. We use it a lot to keep in touch and plan stuff.”

Feeling a bit overwhelmed but touched by their inclusiveness, you gave Usopp her details. He quickly added you to the chat, and soon enough, her phone buzzed with new notifications.

“Welcome to the crew!” Usopp announced, giving you a thumbs up.

As the evening progressed, the boba drinks were finished amidst laughter and animated conversations. Nearly three hours had passed in the cozy boba shop, and outside, the sun had begun its descent, casting a warm glow over the autumn-colored trees.

With the daylight fading, the group started to gather their things, mindful of the time. Nami and Robin, ever the nurturing duo, insisted that you don’t take the bus home with the evening growing late.

“It’s not safe,” Nami stated firmly, her concern evident in her expression.

“I agree. Let us get you an Uber,” Sanji chimed in, offering his phone.

Luffy, who had offered to walk with you part of the way to the bus station, looked slightly disappointed at the plan changing.

“Aw, c’mon guys, she’ll be fine,” Luffy protested, though his concern was genuine.

“It’s better this way, Luffy,” Robin reassured him with a gentle smile. “We’ll make sure she gets home safely.”

Reluctantly, Luffy nodded, understanding their point. Sanji ordered an Uber for you, ensuring the destination was set correctly before you handled the phone back.

“Make sure you get home safe, okay?” Luffy said earnestly, his usual carefree demeanor momentarily replaced by a more serious tone.

You nodded, touched by his concern. “Thank you, Luffy. I had a great time today.”

“Me too!” Luffy grinned, his usual cheerfulness returning. “You better come next time we go out again.”

With a wave to the others and a final thank you, you stepped into the waiting Uber. The ride home was quiet, the events of the day replaying in your mind. You felt a warmth in your chest, a mix of happiness and gratitude for the new friendships that was forming.

Arriving home, you settled into her room, feeling content. changing to your pijamas and climbing to your bed. You just layed down, enjoying the silence that your home offered as late night approached. Until you felt vibrations coming from your phone, notifications from the LINE app popping up. It was the group chat Usopp had added you to.

You browsed through the messages, saving the silly pictures Usopp took of Luffy earlier. Giggling at some of their funny remarks and insults to one other. You sent Sanji a quick thank you text for the uber he ordered for you earlier, and receiving a corny reply, ‘Anytime Y/N gorgeous 😍!’ followed by a long lines full of hearts and more romantic emojis.

Then Nami complained to shut up because she needs to sleep. You turned off your phone and settled it down, while going to the washroom and starting your night routine of skin care and brushing your teeth. Afterwards, you tugged into your bed and attempted to close your eyes and fall into sleep.

Your mind drifting back to the whirlwind of events that had recently brought you closer to Luffy and his friends. Reflecting on the day, it had been filled with laughter, camaraderie, and unexpected moments—a day you will fondly recall as you drifted into dreams of your subconscious.

a/n: is this too corny or too slow? 😣 Feedback pls except don’t be too mean yall. Also will try to have more longer updates!!! just cuz. Thank you!

#monkey d. luffy #monkey d luffy x reader #luffy x female reader #luffy x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #i love luffy #cute #series #high school au #fun #one piece #one piece work #part 2

107 notes · View notes

targaryenrealnessdarling · 1 year

Text

No Pain, No Gain | Part 4, Final | PersonalTrainer!Aemond x fem!reader

A:N: Thank you all soooo much for joining me on this one, it was a blast to write. This chapter kinda made me feral writing it ngl. Cheers to my hype mama @ewanmitchellcrumbs <3 And I know I mentioned it in the first part but really it’s Ange as well as @valeskafics @oneeyedvisenya and @sapphire-writes that inspired me to write this from their AMAZING modern fics, so please give them all the love as well.

Series Masterlist | Warnings under the cut!

warnings: SMUT, 18+, MINORS DNI, pussy slapping, p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, Aemond being mean during sex lowkey love it tho

Lucky for you, the flight wasn’t too long.

Even though you had Baela on your shoulder snoozing, nothing could tear your mind off the sheer idiocy of the previous week.

You’d fucking kissed him.

Or he’d kissed you? At this point the whole memory was foggy.

All you know is that you were mere seconds away from tearing his fucking clothes off in his home gym and letting him have you on any flat surface there was.

You thought how wrong it was. You were paying this guy!

And yet there was a lingering feeling in the back of your mind, a heat clawing its way up your neck, like a constant ache almost at the thought of what would have happened if you hadn’t bolted. The endless possibilities were…vividly playing on your brain the entire plane journey.

‘Fucking perfect’

Even his voice had made a permanent home in your mind, his hot breath against your ear as he pinned you against the wall, allowing you to feel just how turned on he had been.

You obeyed Baela’s wishes and only told Maris about the kiss.

It turned out that Baela’s Dad, Daemon, had really gone all out for this retreat. In a place called Lys (which you’d scarcely heard of) on the other side of the island from where the airport was, it was quiet, with only the odd resident along the streets, but for the most part it was completely remote. You’d have to thank him for the personal taxi later.

Baela had slept through the plane journey entirely so now she just looked out the windows tiredly.

“Is your Dad and Rhaenyra already there?” you ask, seemingly breaking her from a tired trance.

She stretches, “Yeah they’ve been here ages already, the rest of the fam are here as well, we’re the last”

“Why’s that?” you ask.

Baela smirks mischievously, “There’s some tension at the moment, flights were staggered for the sake of people’s sanity”

“Oh right”

You can still hear his voice, the breathy tone he’d used.

‘Fuck…’

Bad girl. Stop it.

At least it’d be nice to have the better part of a week abroad, miles and miles away from the man in question who was making every thought sinful. You could finally relax.

“Is it a big resort?” you asked.

“Oh it’s not one big place, we’ve all got separate little villas. You and I are with Rhaena and her boyfriend, Cregan. Alicent and her fam are in the one next to us. Dad’s done us the courtesy of being the furthest away so we can’t hear him and Rhaenyra going at it”

“Ew Baela” you scrunch your nose, “Is Alicent nice?”

“Nice enough to us. Look out for Aegon though”

“The manwhore one, right. The one we ran into?”

“Yeah, I didn’t tell him you were coming for a reason. The slut will be all over you”

“Yeah no thanks, I might get syphilis” you joke, smoothing your hands over your legs.

You’d changed on the plane to a pair of black shorts and a tank top, and it was a good job you did. It was hot in Lys. Bloody roasting. And if that wasn’t bad enough. It was humid as well, which meant the forgoing of a bra. But c'est la vie, you supposed, you were on holiday, you looked great, felt great and couldn’t wait to get in the sun and just soak it all up.

You and Baela spent the last 30 minutes of the journey installing Tinder on your phone to check out the selection of men (and women, just out of curiosity) in Lys. But being a small island, you were picking up on people who lived hours away, in places you’ve never heard of either.

To your dismay, not many people on Tinder in Lys, shockingly. So you stuffed your phone away as you pulled up to the resort. The resort, or at least the one which you’d share with Rhaena and Cregan, was a single floored villa with what you assumed was two bedrooms on each side. It was nice and quaint.

“Cute” you comment.

Next to that little villa was another bigger one, two floors, slightly more bedrooms you’d wager. That must be where Alicent would be staying.

“She still came even though Viserys died?” you ask Baela, but she only raises her eyebrows.

“It’s not like they were in love”

Fair.

Between the two villas there was a large shared pool that was separated into two sections and a tiny kiosk in the corner where a bartender was packing away stock. Rounding the taxi, you pull your luggage out with a huff.

“Bartender is not too shabby” Baela wiggles her eyebrows and you shove her playfully.

She’s right. He ain’t bad looking at all. Suitably tanned, perhaps even a native to the island, his white shirt only serves to emphasise the way his arms are so toned. It’s a nice distraction for sure, even if nothing ends up happening.

It’s still early afternoon so plenty of time to get dressed and soak up the sun. But as you’re pulling your suitcase out of the taxi, you’re ogling the bartender so hard that it falls out the boot of the car.

“Christ” you whisper.

A woman from the bigger villa rounds the corner with long, curled auburn hair. You assume she must be Alicent, but she looks far too young to have four kids all grown up. She gives Baela a polite wave and turns, “Boys, help them with their bags, would you?”

“Oh no, we’re fine!” you say back, giving her a wave and kneeling to the floor to pick up all your bags.

“Thanks Aeg” Baela says as her bag is plucked from her grasp easily. You pull one bag over your shoulder and attempt to pull your suitcase to its side.

“Struggling?”

You froze.

Oh fuck.

You knew that voice. But you dare not look up.

You stand with your hand on the handle of your suitable, eyes fixed solely on anywhere but where you know he is stood, smirking.

An involuntary breath manages to escape when his large hand, the one you remembered pressing against your waist last time, brushed against yours to wrap around the handle of the suitcase. He takes it effortlessly, making you finally look up at him.

He makes no secret of eyeing every bit of you, savouring the parts he’s never seen before, like the expanse of your legs, having previously always been covered by gym leggings. Smooth and leading to the spot where his eye pauses for a moment. To the tops of your thighs sneaking out of your shorts, he eyes them as well with a dark, determined look. The corner of his lip curled up somewhat once he saw the tank top and your lack of anything underneath.

He looks disgustingly good, at least since the last time you saw him. Hair once again, in that slutty fucking bun.

He’s only wearing shorts, perhaps he’d been sunbathing as well, but clearly not had much of a tan yet. His chest, which you’d never seen bare before, was glistening under the sun, toned and well defined with lines running all over. You caught yourself from looking at the dip of his hips, at the lines leading down to where you knew you wouldn’t be able to not look if you did. So you painfully refrained and looked back into his mismatched eyes, at the glowing pride sitting there at your obvious ogling of his form.

He chuckles quietly and takes your suitcase to take into your room, as if he just needed an excuse to see the inside of it. You stood stock still in your position, watching the muscles of his back move as he walks, as if he just knows you’re watching him.

Which of course, you are.

You bite the inside of your cheek, both ragingly horny and annoyed at the same time.

And when you look over at Baela, she bites her lip, mouthing I didn’t know.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you” you whispered and she laughed nervously, as if really believing you’d do it.

Once the two Targaryen brothers had evacuated your rooms, you pushed Baela inside your shared room and slammed the door.

“Woah woah chill, what’s the big deal?” she asked, searching your eyes.

“Baela, why the fuck is he here?” you whisper, clearly stressed.

“The fuck is up with you?”

“Fuck’s sake, Baela, we kissed!”

She’s quiet for a moment and you expect her to freak out, but she just raises an eyebrow, “Is that it?”

“Baela!”

“You didn’t bang?”

“Fuck’s sake, no! I mean… we might have if I hadn’t run off…but it felt too weird-I was paying him-”

“You ran off?” Baela snorts.

“Shut the fuck up”

“What are you afraid of dick now?”

“Baela, I just-I couldn’t, it felt too weird-it’s not like I didn’t want to but-fuck”

Baela puts her arms on your shoulders, “Babe, calm down. Listen, he's not your personal trainer anymore, mm’kay? He’s just ‘creepy Aemond’, now get your ass in that bikini so we can see the fruits of your labours alright? Get in that fucking sun”

“He’s not creepy, Bae” you reply, exasperated by the situation you’ve been put in.

“Regardless, get out there. Show him what he’s missing” Baela winks, zipping open her bag to get her swimming stuff, “You’re hot, y/n. Show him”

With an annoyed sigh, you shed your clothes, not caring about whether you’re naked in front of Baela or not. A few years in a house-share with her meant you’d walked in on each other nude more than once.

“Well?” she grins, you look over, bottom half of the black bikini now on, and your jaw drops.

“Oh my god” you say, looking over at her. She has a bikini of her own, pale blue in colour and one that compliments her skin tone well. Hers has ties that she’s double knotted, “You look fit”

“Thank you” she says with a smile, as if she knows it anyway.

You pull your bikini top on, making sure your boobs are well rested and adjusted inside the top. The bottoms are double knotted at the hips, the top a classic one that ties around your neck and back. Once the girls are where they’re meant to be, you look over yourself in the mirror, and you had to admit, the one month program did a number on you. Thighs and legs, slightly more toned, curves smoothed over, arms had a bit more shape to them, but nothing that screamed ‘ah yeah I work out’. And more than anything, the ass looked amazing. You knew you had an ass anyway, but now…

“What do you think?” you ask Baela, pulling your hair up messily.

She looks at you in the mirror, “I give it a day” she says as she smears lotion over her body.

“Until?”

“Til Aemond’s had you on every flat surface here”

“You’re fucking gross, you know that”

“Bet you 5 gold dragons”

“You’re on, bitch”

Once suitably sun-creamed up, skin glistening with it, you rest your sunglasses on top of your head and take a deep breath, going out to be greeted by the warm, humid air. Luckily, only Aegon seems to be sat outside on a sunbed at the moment, his hat resting over his face. Baela happily passes you a bright orange cocktail, and not quite ready to get into the pool, you sit on the side and dip your legs in, the smell of chlorine making you feel like you were finally on holiday.

Aegon lifts his hat, squinting, “Hello ladies”

Baela dips into the pool, “Manwhore”

“Well that’s not very nice”

Aegon doesn’t make any further effort to speak, plopping his hat back over his face, one airpod in his ear. Sipping the cool drink you scan the area. The villas are cute and luxurious and from here down the cobbled path you can see the beach that backs onto it all, the glaring white sand calling to you and the rush of the waves against them are somewhat calming.

The little bar in the corner plays some quiet music, not loud enough to disturb anyone from their sunbathing or other holiday-like activities. Alicent sits on the other side underneath a parasol, she’s wearing a classy one-piece and for a woman with four kids grown up, she doesn’t show it one bit, slender and youthful. She reads a book in her lap, sunglasses rested firmly on her nose, a diet-coke in one hand.

The only sound at the moment was the quiet music and the rippling of water as Baela swam leisurely in the pool, careful not to get her hair wet.

It was nice.

Down the cobbled path, you hear the grunts of what sound like two male voices. Arching an eyebrow and tipping your sunglasses up, there’s two men, suitably broad, making their way up to your villa.

“Ah, my favourite cousin has arrived!” this guy is shorter, but not short by any means, he has wild curly brown hair and wearing shorts that reach to about his knees. Not a red flag per se but…

Baela splashes him from her spot in the pool, “See you two are getting along famously”

The other guy with him you recognise as Cregan Stark, Rhaena’s current boyfriend. You’d seen him around when you were at university, but the years had been kind to him and he’d broadened significantly, with a dark beard and a smattering of chest hair covering his torso. At least he’s opted for more stylish shorts though. You give him a polite wave which he returns, he’d always been a softie, it seems that hadn’t changed. Good for Rhaena.

Jace flashes a smile your way, “Is this the infamous y/n?” he asks, rounding the pool to come and stand beside you to introduce himself, “I’m Jace”

It’s at this moment that Aemond comes out of his villa, towel in hand. You try your damndest to not look in his direction as he throws his towel at the sunbed next to Aegon, but when you break and do, he’s not even looking at you. He’s staring daggers into the back of Jace’s head, gaze dark as if he wants to take the poor guy’s head clean off. And he makes a fucking meal out of his, only briefly flitting to you before looking away.

Oh.

You bite back a smile.

“Nice to meet you” you say, shaking his hand politely, looking back to Baela and pulling an awkward look. She’s doing the same thing with her eyebrow raised.

“I’m the other cousin, my brother’s Luke and Joff are in the villa over” he says excitedly. Gods he’s like…a puppy. Even though he very well could be the same age or older, he’s vibrating with excitement. It’s kind of a turn off.

“You’re Rhaenyra’s kids right?” you ask, politely pretending to be interested.

He nods, “Yeah, you probably won’t see her. Her and Daemon are always in the cities being tourists”

This attempt at conversation is…taking it all from you. He’s cute, but not fuckable cute. And with Aemond in your peripheral pretending to be on his phone, but secretly watching every word that’s exchanged, it’s kind of exciting to see him…jealous perhaps.

You just nod and agree to whatever he says. Aemond visibly bristles, tongue poking the inside of his cheek when Jace signs off with, “You’re welcome to come to our villa whenever you want”

A bit…forward if anything. But you thank him politely and Jace eventually retreats down the cobbled path to his villa, which he’s helpfully stated is only about a 2 minute walk.

Cregan asks, “Where’s Rhaena?”

“At the beach”

Cregan gives a polite smile, going off to the white sandy beach in search of his girlfriend. Baela swims up to you, leaning on the side of the pool as you sip the last of your cocktail.

“Is he always so adept with women?” you ask with a smirk, Baela snorts, “several times I caught him looking below the chin”

“Can you blame him” Baela returns, “Nah, he’s harmless really, you coming in?” she asks, swimming on her back to the middle of the pool.

Sighing, you pull the sunglasses from your head and put them aside, padding over to the ladder.

Even though you don’t look, you feel the intensity of his gaze. Raking all over your skin, as if the more he stares, the more skin he’ll be able to see. Perhaps he’d wondered what you looked like beneath the black fabric of the bikini, what it might feel like to undo the ties of them and let the fabric peel off your moistened skin, exposing your most intimate areas to the humid air.

Your skin blossoms at the thought, even with how hot it is. The sun makes it no easier to cool off from these musings, only serving to intensify the electric bolt that radiates between the both of you, becoming stronger the closer you are to him.

He watches as your legs dip into the pool the further you descend down the ladder, the water moistening your sun-cream lotioned skin, slipping away in waves as the droplets lap against your toned thighs. Aemond thinks he might die on the spot when the water surges against your breasts, instantly making the supple skin there glisten in the sun.

And if that wasn’t enough, you reach up in a surprisingly tempting gesture and pull the clip from your hair. He’d rarely seen your hair down, but here with the ends dipping into the pool, each strand glimmering a soft halo around your head with the afternoon glow, the reins he has pulled taut inside his head are slipping recklessly.

Pretending to scroll through his phone, his brother Aegon smirks beneath his hat, shamelessly watching Aemond’s resolve slowly crumble. But you do a good job of barely looking at him for the remainder of the afternoon. The same cannot be said for him.

He realises he’s fucked when Baela, the ever playful person she is, dunks you below the water and every bit of you is wet, water cascading off every curve as you laugh and wipe your eyes. Even when you pull yourself onto the ladder out of the pool, giving him the perfect view of your ass, pulling the bikini a little bit up your hips as you do so, he manages to somehow hold it together.

Being late in the afternoon, the sun’s beginning to make its way down, so with a slight shiver you pull a towel around you, raking some fingers through your wet hair to get the chlorine-induced tangles out. You lean over the bar, waiting for the bartender to turn around,

“Baela, what do you want?”

“Whatever you’re having!”

The bartender flashes a smile once he recognises your presence, eyes flitting to your chest pressed between your arms as you lean over the bar before returning to your eyes.

“What can I get for you” he asks lowly and your head cocks at the accent. It’s kinda hot.

“Do you have gin and tonic?” you ask politely,

He braces the bar, the vein in his arm visible from this angle, “We do, but I think for a pretty woman like you I can make something better”

You raise an eyebrow, “like what?”

He twirls a glass of something behind his back, clearly showing off his bartending skills, “How about something with ouzo?”

You shrug with a smile, “Never tried it but sure”

As he mixes the drink, you peer over your shoulder at Baela and then to Aemond. He’s already watching you. It’s that look again. The one he’d given you last time in his home gym. The one where it feels like he’s looking right inside you, the darkened, determined look. You keep his gaze, thinking he will just look away like he had before. But he doesn’t.

A muscle in his jaw twitches with annoyance. Or perhaps not even annoyance. Something else.

Once you’ve polished off several cocktails, Aemond leaves with Aegon to go inside, presumably to change clothes, but not before giving you a look over his shoulder. Anyone else would have thought he was livid. To be honest, for a second you thought he very well could be. For what reason he had to be livid? You had no idea.

You spent the night slathered in mosquito repellent and sat outside with Baela, Rhaena and Cregan. You’d wanted to be comfortable so decided on a dress with spaghetti straps. It was a comfortably warm evening, with fire-lit torches illuminating the space around the villa. Rhaena had arrived back in the late afternoon, flushed in the face and hair tousled and you and both Baela had noted that Cregan’s shorts were untied. The sun was clearly getting to Rhaena. Her and Cregan was a fairly new thing and she’d been both shocked and giddy when he’d offered to be her plus one for the trip.

Sometime in the night, a figure that was clearly Aemond and another white haired girl walked towards their villa.

“Helaena!” Rhaena shouted over with a smile. Both figures stopped and your stomach fluttered with nervousness when Aemond’s eyes landed on you briefly. Then a slight pang of disappointment when he said goodbye to the woman next to him to slip inside the villa.

The ethereal looking woman comes over excitedly, sitting beside you, “Oh my gosh, when did you guys get here!”

“Cregan and I came yesterday” Rhaena smiles,

“Yeah but they were probably in bed all day sleeping, right Rhae?” Baela murmurs into her drink earning a smack from her sister.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Cregan” Helaena smiles politely before turning to you, “And you are?”

“I’m y/n, Helaena was it?” you ask, shaking her soft hand. She was really pretty, like a fairy just floating around. She had dangly earrings with ladybirds on them and was wearing a flowy cream dress.

“Oh so you’re y/n, I’ve heard so much about you!”

It catches you off guard slightly, but you nod and then turn to Baela furrowing your eyebrows confusedly. She’s heard so much about you? The hell does that mean?

The rest of the night is really pleasant and Helaena stays with you all chatting for the remainder of it. She’s really nice it turns out. It’s a wonder she’s even related to her brothers. She tells you all about the family drama, which piques your excitement and that her youngest brother Daeron, didn’t end up coming since he’s studying abroad, so she came instead. And you’re grateful she did, it’s nice to have other new female company.

In your shared bedroom, you and Baela chat well into the night, about a plethora of things. But one subject you refuse to broach is him. Nope. Can’t talk about him. He’s only a few metres away, if you let your mind wander too much it’ll all be over.

It’s a restless night’s sleep and your subconscious certainly doesn’t help. All your mind can allow you to remember is the way he touched you, how he had pressed against you, how his lips were slotting against yours almost desperately, his low moan.

The next morning, after having a continental breakfast, Baela puts on a long maxi dress.

“Everyone’s going to the city for a shop around, wanna come?” Baela meets your eyes in the mirror.

“Shopping? Nah, that’s fine I’ll just stay here, want to relax a little bit and get some more sun”

“You sure? Feel bad leaving you here on your own”

“Is everyone going with you?” you ask, pulling some shorts over your black bikini.

“Nearly, except for Dad and Rhaenyra. Sure you don’t mind?” she asks,

“Course not, have a good time”

Pulling a shawl over your shoulders you see Baela and everyone off before trudging down the cobbled path to the white, sandy beach, plopping yourself on the sand and opening a book you’d borrowed from the shelf near the bar. You let the sun beat down on your shoulders, the soft wind blowing through your hair and listening to the waves in the quiet hair while reading a book just seems so calming.

You’d already gotten quite a bit of sun yesterday and your legs had glazed with a sun-kissed colour, as well as your arms. So much so, the bikini had left a few lines where the straps were, if only very faintly. It was always easy for you to catch the sun. Pulling off your shorts, you lean back on your elbows to read some more and get some colour on your thighs.

Early afternoon came by quickly and before you knew it, you could feel the tingle of pinkness on your shoulders, where your bikini was tied at your neck.

Fuck.

You’d forgotten to put suncream there, Baela had been the one to reach the difficult spot yesterday.

Packing up your things, you carry your shorts and shawl in one hand and trudge back to the villa. It’s quiet, everyone must still be in the city. Your hair had somewhat curled up from the sea breeze so you ran your fingers through it once inside, snagging on some tangles.

Now, where was the aftersun. Baela had it…

“Not a fan of shopping?”

Your head swung around at the sudden, familiar voice. And there he was, looking annoyingly hot, leaning against the doorway to your villa, a toned arm supporting his weight. Again, he wasn’t wearing a shirt and his shorts hung on his hips, making your eyes dip to those lines that lead…

No.

He has a lazy smile on his face, happy to have got you flustered and allowing his eyes once again to look over you in just the black bikini once more.

“No, not really” is all you can muster, going back to looking for the aftersun with urgency. But really you didn’t want him to see the pink flush on your cheeks. Seeing him like this, no less being alone with him, especially looking as good as he does, was about to drive you to madness.

He hums and walks forward into the village, hands in his pockets, “Looking for something?”

“U-uh, just the aftersun” you struggle, clearing your throat and cursing yourself for the shake in your voice at being in his presence once again.

“Ah” he responds.

You gasp when one of his arms braces the counter in front of you and he bends down to the mini fridge, opening it to produce a bottle of said aftersun. You could feel his presence at your back, broad and warm, all encompassing. Swallowing thickly, you take a breath. It must be the smell of something on his skin that gives off a subtle scent, but whatever it is makes your stomach flutter and a warm bloom settles in your abdomen.

You go to reach for the bottle, but he pulls back, and you meet his gaze. His look is soft, but dark and steadfast.

“Where”

Jesus fucking christ. My heart is beating so fucking fast right now.

“Um…back of my neck” it comes out a whisper, and he doesn’t miss the way your breasts move in the bikini as you nervously breathe slightly heavier.

“Difficult to reach by yourself” he muses, his voice rumbling in his chest as he is standing right behind you. You bite your lip. Is this really fucking happening right now.

You shiver when his large hand moves your hair from your back to one side of your neck, the feeling of his fingers brushing against the skin there almost makes an involuntary sound come out your mouth. But you repress it, closing your eyes to grab hold of your reins.

One hand fiddles with the single knot of the tie at your neck, slowly, his breath steady. And he finds the one he needs and pulls slowly, unwinding the bow until the bikini top is loosened. Your hands move to hold the front of your bikini up to cover your breasts as the fabric falls. Your mind is at war with itself, stuck between thinking this is wrong and it should stop, and then the more dominant side thinks, he’s here, doing this, you might as well see where it goes.

Even though it was only one thin strap, when he sees your almost bare back right before him, you hear him exhale lowly and you only know because you feel his hot breath against it. He deposits some cold aftersun in his hand and slowly reaches out to the slightly pink skin of your nape, to spread it across. Your body prickles with anticipation at his touch, coupled with the chill of the liquid. Nobody says a thing as he massages it into your skin, not quite feathery but he applies pressure, making sure to roll his fingers into the muscles there, so that you really feel him.

He continues for a moment and then his other hand joins. You’re unsure if there is actually any aftersun left at this point and he is just finding an excuse to touch you, but you don’t stop him. Desire pools in your stomach as his hands drag south, down the expanse of your back, to the sides, nearly touching your own hands where they are covering your breasts. Your eyelashes flutter as you sigh at the feeling, his large palms working the moistened skin. It is this point your eyes open when you feel his very obvious erection, pressing firmly against your buttocks.

You feel his breath close to your nape, and it all seems to fall apart as he presses his lips there. Once, twice, three times…and then again as he drags his lips up your neck to behind your ear.

“It’s not fair…you getting to walk around like this…” he whispers next to your ear, his hands trace the contours of your breasts, “...every fucking guy ogling you…”

One of his hands smoothes down your side, resting at your hip, fiddling with the single knot of your bikini there.

“...wanting to fuck you…”

He just lets his hang rest there, neither touching you where you need him the most. Your blood is rushing around your body, humming with desire. Frustrated at not being allowed the pleasure it so desperately needs.

“...but you won’t let them, will you. You’ll just let them look, like the needy attention slut you are”

His words are unexpected but they have their effect, and you can practically feel your arousal at what he says. One of his hands sneaks beneath yours, to grab one of your breasts tightly, almost possessively, pinching the nipple between his dexterous fingers. It makes you breathe out a quiet moan, your body slowly giving in.

“Do you have any idea how much I wanted to fuck that stupid little attitude out of you?” he says, his breath hot on the shell of your ear.

He moulds your breast in his palm effortlessly, waiting for an answer.

But you moan louder in both surprise and arousal when he squeezes it harshly, “I asked you a question”

“Fuck-no, I didn’t…” you somehow manage, cracking your eyes open slightly. You see him only a little in your peripheral, expecting him to be smirking. But he’s not, he is dead serious. Which somehow serves to awaken your desire even more.

His other hand slips beneath the fabric of your bikini and he himself lets out a guttural moan feeling how turned on you already are, the pads of his fingers collect the wetness already there, moving up to circle your slit with your own slick. Your mouth falls open slightly, body trembling with anticipation. God why does it feel so good.

“I would have had you in every way imaginable…if you’d stayed…” he murmurs against you, speeding up the motions of his finger.

“Fuck…Aemond-please”

He spins you around quickly, the top of your bikini falling in a useless mess to the floor and he quite literally growls at the sight of your tits, as if he’d imagined what they might look like for a long time. His jaw tightens at the sight and he pushes the bottoms down to the floor, sinking to his knees almost instantly so he is staring hungrily at your cunt, wet and dripping for him.

His hands remain at your hips, his fingers bruising red marks into them.

“Please what”

Shit.

Your face flushes red at the sight of him so close to your intimate area, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t a little embarrassed, but his pupils are so dilated with pure lust, it almost makes you forget.

Your body jolts when he slaps your pussy hard, sending a jolt of pleasure through your clit and clawing up your spine, a desperate sound escapes you. He need not say anything else.

“Please, I need you” you whine pathetically and he huffs, as if annoyed, using his large hands to part your legs even further, the counter biting into your lower back.

“That’s what I fucking thought”

He dives into your pussy with his tongue, swirling the soft, wet muscle around your clit a few times deliciously before venturing down, fucking you with his tongue and lapping up your slick like a man starved. He grips your hips as if you might move away from him, keeping you right where he wants you and all the while your desperate whines and the lewd sound of his mouth are the only thing that fills the otherwise quiet villa.

You pray nobody returns, because what you’re doing right now deserves to be loud.

God, how long had it been since a man last treated you this way. Since a man had known what to do with you so confidently, to have you a moaning mewling mess.

It’s here when you look down, that you realise he’s fucking moaning while eating your pussy, almost sounding as if he’s enjoying this far more than you are. Enjoying your taste, your scent, everything. He briefly looks up at you, drinking in the indulgent look on your pinkened face, before delving deeper, his sharp nose rubbing against your clit with every move he makes with his tongue within you.

You nearly lose it entirely when he presses two fingers inside, immediately crooking them to rub against that delicious spongy spot that makes your mouth hang open.

“Ohfuck” you whimper as he doubles his efforts on your clit while pistoning his long, slender fingers within you. It feels like so much and your hand comes down to his wrist, feeling your climax curl in your gut and threatening to explode faster than ever. But he groans and uses his other hand to push it away, blissfully ignoring you and going faster in an effort to make you come apart around him.

“You gonna come on my fucking tongue” he growls into your pussy, his ministrations never stopping for a second and in fact his lips lock around your clit to suck. A desperate moan spills from your mouth, not even passing your brain.

“Yes, yes…” you pant, “Fuck-Aemond”

Your hands brace the counter as your climax is ripped from you by the force of his fingers and mouth. Pure, white hot pleasure wakes every nerve in your body, prickling up your back and into your limbs, making them go numb. You barely register the sound you even make as Aemond continues to fuck you with his fingers through it, lapping up every bit of your essence that comes out, moaning and chanting ‘good fucking girl’.

It genuinely takes you a moment to recover from it, your chest shining with sweat from the effort. But before you know which way is up, he rises, hands under your thighs to pull you up onto the counter, which is good since your legs were starting to give in from the force of your orgasm.

“Aem-”

His lips are on yours before you even have a chance to speak, allowing your legs to part so he might press flush against your weeping cunt. You feel his erection, hard and thick against you and it only makes you want it more. He takes you in with his lips as if it’s the air he breathes, a mess of lips, tongues and the taste of you, sweet like nectar.

“Fuck, want you so bad” he breathes between kisses, outright moaning when your fingers card into the hair at his nape and grip.

“Fuck me, I want to feel all of you”

His eyes peer open down at you, his chest heaving with desire.

“Please, don’t make me beg”

At this, he does smirk, pushing his shorts further down his hips and freeing his cock, “I’d like to see you beg, baby”

Christ.

He’s much bigger than you’ve had before, definitely bigger than your pathetic ex was anyway (not like it’s hard). You take him into your palm, hot, weighty and heavy and he tilts his head back at the feeling as you give his length a few languid strokes, although there really is no need since he’s been constantly hard the second he saw you come out the taxi the day before. The way his face contorts when you rub your thumb over his weeping tip makes you think he is painfully hard, aching for any kind of release.

God, if this is what he looks like now, you want to see his face when he is fucking you stupid.

You guide him to your waiting core, his head barely kissing your entrance.

“I’ve got an IUD, please-”

He doesn’t need to hear any more, his hands reach out to grip your waist, pulling you forward as he pushes, letting out a guttural moan as he sinks into you to the hilt. He moves your leg to hook around him, trying to get as close to you as possible.

“Fuck…” he moans with a shudder as his cock is squeezed by your tightness, “god you’re so fucking tight”

Everything about this has your blood on fire. His cock fills you so perfectly, his moans, his words, the way his hands are holding you apart for him to use you. One of his hands moves to your nape, grabbing the hair there in his grip tightly, and the tension against your hair makes you moan out as well.

But he doesn’t move.

“Aemond…”

“Beg for it” he orders, his stomach taut with the effort it takes to hold himself back. Frustrated and turned on beyond belief, you try and move your hips for friction. His hand flies from your hip to your jaw, fingers bruising into your cheeks, making you look directly at him and your eyes meet his, wide-eyed and heavily dilated, “Beg for it like the fucking slut I know you are”

Once again his words ignite that fire that creeps down your spine, and you feel every bit of him. Every vein on his cock, how it twitches within your heat and how it kisses your cervix with how big it is.

“Please fuck me, just move Aemond-please”

You don’t have the resolve to deny it now. You want it so bad, more than you’ve wanted anything ever.

He wets his lips, “That’s it” he coos.

He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back inside, watching the way your tits bounce when his hips snap against yours with need. He doesn't start gently, too pent up for that, nor does he build up to it. He fucks you on the counter like he’s not been able to get a moment’s rest from thinking about this for weeks. The hand in your hair tightens impossibly, holding you there while his cock drags against your walls, still sensitive from your previous climax.

Aemond watches his cock disappear over and over again into you, coated in your slick, revelling in the filthy sounds it makes when he slaps against you. And when he delivers a particularly hard thrust, brushing against that spot inside, your hand flies to your mouth to contain your moans, concerned that if anyone did come back, they’d be able to hear you.

“None of that” he growls, ripping your hand away from your mouth, his eyes glimmering with mischief, “I wanna hear how good I make you feel”

It’s impossible to hold back. He sees it all as a challenge now as he takes your hips with both hands, fucking you even faster if it were possible. He adjusts his hips and his stomach muscles, toned and hard ripple with the effort, his strong arms caging you completely in and he looks down at you as if he wants to see exactly the moment it happens.

You grip his forearm tightly, “Aemond-I’m-”

“Fuck I can feel you squeezing me…you gonna cum for me, hm? All over my cock” he breathes.

You nod desperately, “Yesyes…please…cum inside me-”

His brow arches smugly at this, a smirk etching on his features, “You want me to fill you up, huh”

“Gods - yes”

“Hm” he hums, allowing his large hand to encircle your throat, only barely squeezing, “gonna make you work for it”

It’s when he squeezes your neck that you shut your eyes, face contorted in pleasure and that coil inside snapping forcefully. You can practically feel the rhythm of your heartbeat through your clit as you let go completely, gripping onto him for dear life. You don’t know what he means by ‘work for it’ but you don’t really care right now. The pleasure comes in waves over your body and Aemond pistons in and out through it, a lazy smile on his face watching you as you orgasm.

You realise in all this that he’s not stopped. His hips continue to press into you faster and faster, now bullying the overly sensitive spots inside that have been decimated by your climax.

“Aemond?...” you manage with a breathy moan, quickly feeling overstimulated.

“Told you I’d make you work for it” he muses, moving his thumb to circle your clit.

You gasp out, back arching against him as he tries to work yet another orgasm out of you, “I-I can’t-”

“Give it to me” he orders, all while keeping that breakneck pace as he fucks you, sparking white-hot and borderline unbearable pleasure in two ways against your body. He leans forward to lick a fat stripe up the column of your neck all the way up to your ear and the change in position has his cock once again directly drag against that spot inside, one that makes your eyes shut, face contort and stars begin to appear behind them.

“Give it to me like the good girl you are” he whispers as he bites down on the skin of your neck, marking you for himself.

With a strangled cry, you give in, thighs trembling against his muscled sides and you feel another gush of arousal coat his cock by the loud sounds it's still making. He fucks you through this one, his strokes becoming sloppy, and you go limp in his arms feeling that he may also not last much longer.

“Good girl-fuck” he cums with a shattered moan after that, his head buried into your neck as you feel his hot spend paint your walls, giving a few desperate thrusts until his cock twitches from overstimulation, still seated within you. Still coming down from the two close orgasms he’d given you, you take a moment to come back to earth, eyes cracking open after a while.

Even with him still inside you, you can feel the combination of his spend and your own arousal leaking out of you, coating your thighs. He pulls his head tiredly from your neck to look at you. And he looks amazing, so blissed out, a bit pink in the face, but there’s a new softness there now where there wasn’t before.

“Gods, you’re so perfect…”

You kiss him desperately, not wanting this feeling to end as you both come down from your respective highs. And there’s a part inside of you that is self-conscious that perhaps all he wanted was sex, and that he doesn’t like you at all, so you savour this moment, concerned that after all this…there might be nothing.

“Go on a date with me…” he says suddenly and you look up at him. For the first time since you’ve known him, he looks nervous, “please…”

Combined with the thoughts you were just having, his words are so overwhelming that for the time it takes you to think of an answer, you just laugh breathlessly, which makes him arch a confused brow.

“Date?” you ask, wondering if you’d heard correctly, “not to the gym I hope”

“No, not at the gym” he laughs, “I…I’d like to get to know you better” he confesses.

You huff a laugh, “You’re literally inside me right now”

He lets out his own laugh, and it’s nice to see him genuinely smile, “not like that”

His chest is still moving with his breathing, still slightly laboured, and your eyes glance over him for a moment, taking him all in. His hair has somewhat come free of his bun, so you tuck a strange behind his ear in a gesture that makes Aemond’s heart squeeze.

“I’d love to”

The smile on his face is unmistakable, and not a hint of smugness to it.

Once he’s pulled his softening cock from your core and you’ve both cleaned yourself up, it overcomes both of you that you can’t keep your hands off each other, can’t spend a moment without lips locked. Everyone’s definitely going to notice.

“I don’t want to hide it from anyone, if you don’t” you say in a whisper.

He squeezes your ass lovingly, giving it a playful swat, “I certainly don’t”

A few hours later, once the sun has started to hit the tops of all the buildings and the sky turns a hazy red with the sunset, you sit beside him, legs dipped in the pool and a shawl pulled around your shoulders from the slight chill. You let your head rest on his shoulder, utterly content as he kisses the crown of your head, in a shockingly loving gesture despite how he was railing you earlier. One strong arm wrapped around your waist.

“Fuck” you whisper.

“What” he asks amused.

“I owe Baela 5 gold dragons”

taglist (sorry if I missed anyone, I’m crap, bold means I couldn’t tag)

@jacevelaryonswife @lovelykhaleesiii@urmomsgirlfriend1@iiamthehybrid @namelesslosers @chainsawsangel @warmfieldofgrass @mynameisbaby9 @afro-hispwriter @tempo-rary-fix @toodlesxcuddles @definitelynotsatans @svtansdaddyx @tssf-imagines @darkenchantress @vrtualfairy @fan-goddess @skikikikiikhhjuuh @helaenaluvr @sarahkimtae @blackxisxmyxcolour @castellomargot @girlwith-thepearlearring @julczimozart @amazingdisneyfansblog @slutforaemond@thedamewithabook@Iiamthehybrid@sahvlren@Whoknows333@cosmoeticss

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