#I left her peeled besides the hair

[starres-stuff]

"Oh, they got their hands full, tryin' to tame a pistol Spitfire, freckles that could run among the dead Clothesline, tightropes, daredevil, high hopes They raised a little hell when they raised a little redhead"

[nebulaafterdark]

A Tale Of Two Dragons

Summary: After suffering a head injury, Princess Y/N forgets the past two years of her life, including her marriage to Aegon. Who will do anything to win her back.

18+ ONLY MDNI Targcest, Smut, Cheesy, Medieval Romcom

Y/N wakes terribly hot, her head throbs and there is something wrapped round her waist. She peels open her eyes…an arm. She flicks it away.

“What is the matter, my dearest love?” A voice grumbles, from behind her. “The maester says you should remain abed for several days.

“Why?” The word is past her lips before she can stop it.

“You hit your head.”

Y/N reaches up toward her throbbing temple, scraping against the forming scab beneath the bandage. Her fingers come away wet.

“You mustn’t touch,” Aegon chides, “let me see.”

Aegon?

Y/N screams at the top of her lungs, rolling onto the floor.

“What is the matter?” Aegon peers over the edge of the mattress. “Does your head hurt?” He springs from the bed, grabbing a cup off the bedside table. “Here, milk of the poppy.” He attempts to bring the chalice to her lips.

Y/N slaps his hand away, the glass shattering over the floor. “Surely poison.”

“What?” Aegon breathes. “Why in the seven hells would it be poison, my heart?”

“Do not call me that.” Y/N snaps, feeling almost sorry for it as his face falls.

“Look at me,” he crouches down to her, cowering in the corner. “What’s happened?”

“I should be asking you! Why are you being kind to me? Why are you sleeping in my bed? Plotting to kill me?”

“I don’t want to kill you.” He huffs a laugh. Back are the sad, crestfallen eyes.

Y/N forces down the urge to punch him. “Why were you in my bed?”

“To be clear,” Aegon says, motioning behind him, “this is my bedchamber.”

Y/N searches the space behind him, he speaks true. This is not her room. “Why would I be in your bedchamber?”

Aegon’s upper lip twitches, “because you are my wife.”

Y/N laughs, “I am your wife.”

Aegon joins in, anxiously.

“You jest.” She wags a finger at him, “that is the Aegon I know. You have outdone yourself this time.”

Aegon’s eyes search hers for a moment more before he hollers, “guards!”

The doors fly open, “your grace?”

“We must have the grand maester.”

Y/N’s eyes track his movements. Pacing and pacing until the maester appears.

“Is your head troubling you, your grace?” He kneels before her. “I left you with milk of the poppy.”

“She needs more.” Aegon insists.

“She can have no more until the morrow.”

“She did not drink it.” Aegon shouts, “she tossed it away because she thought it poisoned.”

“I would never harm you, your grace. Surely you know that.” The maester addresses the princess directly.

“Not you, me.” Aegon throws up a hand. “She does not know who I am.”

“I know who you are and I do not like you.” Y/N argues.

“That is worse.” Aegon laments, “she does not remember our marriage or our-”

“Your grace,” the maester stops him. “Your lady wife has suffered an injury. It is best not to push the recollection of years past.”

“She will heal then?”

“I cannot say, the mind is unpredictable.”

Y/N narrows her eyes at the maester, “am I truly married to Aegon?”

“Yes, princess. For some two years now.”

“Nearly three,” Aegon corrects him, with a hand to his head.

Y/N’s breathing picks up, unable to calm herself.

“Princess, you must breathe slowly now.”

“I want my mother,” Y/N chokes out.

“I will get your mother,” Aegon offers, “just breathe.”

His command is foreign to her. That he would care. The maester fusses about her as they wait. “All is well, your grace, all is well.”

“I may faint.” She warns.

The maester begins fanning her with his hands.

Rhaenyra appears moments later, with Aegon hot on her heels. “What’s happened, my darling?”

“Mother,” Y/N reaches for her, sobbing against her shoulder.

“Hush now.” Rhaenyra cradles the back of her head, smoothing down her hair.

“I do not know how such a thing could h-happen.”

“What?” Rhaenyra begins swaying her like a babe.

“I woke up beside my sworn enemy, claiming to be my husband.” Y/N tells her, “and worst of all, everyone insists that it’s true. Am I truly married?”

“Yes.”

“To Aegon.”

“Yes.”

“And I am happy about it?”

“I’m afraid so,” Rhaenyra smiles. “You are quite taken with him.”

“To what degree is he hung?” Y/N scoffs. He must be-

Rhaenyra throws her head back with laughter, “I would not know, sweet girl.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “he speaks true then?”

Rhaenyra nods.

“And we are in…” Y/N forces out the word, “love?”

“Very much so.”

Without warning, the princess faints in her mother’s arms.

————————————————————————

“And though all the realm wished for the princess to deliver a son, she blessed the prince with two daughters.”

Y/N comes to, blinking up at the ceiling. Pleased to find that she is in her own bed this time. She nearly finds herself comforted by the voice beside her, before looking over to realize it is Aegon. Seated in the arm chair with a brown leather book in his lap. She sits up, staring him down.

“Don’t,” he slowly closes the book, holding up both hands, “don’t scream.”

“What do you want?” Y/N groans. “I’ve already told you I don’t remember.”

“I’d like to court you.” His lips twitch, nervously.

“Really?” She huffs a laugh. “You, Aegon Targaryen, would rather court me than go find another well suited lady, of high status, to marry you?”

“Yes.”

“You want me?”

“Very much so.”

“More than anyone else?”

Aegon twists his wedding band around his finger. “Yes, more than anyone.”

“Well…what would we do together?” She crosses both arms over her chest, “I can’t imagine we have much in common.”

“Talk, stroll the gardens, fly together on dragon back, whatever you’d like.”

“You told me this morning, I am to remain abed for several days.”

“That’s why I’ve brought this,” he waves the book at her, “thought it might keep you occupied. That or I could dance for you.”

“How well do you dance?”

“Not very,” Aegon admits, “that’s what makes it entertaining.”

Y/N leans up, trying to catch a glimpse of the book’s title. “What book is that?”

“A tale of two dragons.” Aegon pulls it away, “do you want to hear the story or not?”

“I suppose,” Y/N sighs, sinking back into the pillows. “I’ve nothing better to do.”

————————————————————————

For four days he reads to her from that silly book. With each day that passes Y/N finds herself more invested.

“But if a son is expected of the prince, why does he not want for a son?”

Aegon smiles as he closes the book. “That’s all for today, you must rest.”

“I am not tired,” Y/N argues.

“Your eyes tell a different story.”

“Truly, I’m not tired.” She tells him, toying with her marriage ring. “My head hurts is all.”

“Might I try something?”

Y/N scowls, reluctantly closing the distance between them.

His hands cup her face, moving up to her throbbing skull, running his fingertips over her scalp.

It feels nice, though Y/N will never admit it.

“It will help if you stop making such sour faces, Y/N.” Aegon remarks, smoothing his thumb over the furrow between her brows. “My head aches just watching you.”

“You might wear a similar expression after being dealt my hand.” It is odd, her name on his lips. As though he rarely speaks it, save for when he’s angry with her.

“Yes, how devastating it must be; doted on by the man who loves you.” Aegon muses.

“You used to call me a bastard at family gatherings.” Y/N remembers that clearly.

“I used to do a great many things I am not proud of.” Aegon admits. “But the man I am now, the man I am with you…I take great pride in.”

“It will take time, if I’m to trust you again.”

“I have time.” Aegon assures her, “though at present, there is somewhere else I need be.” He presses his lips to her forehead in parting. “Good night.”

Y/N cups his wrist, at the side of her face, for just a moment. “Good night.”

————————————————————————

On the fifth day, the grand maester allows Y/N to leave her apartments, and by the tenth day, she is cleared to fly. Being amongst the clouds always helps clear her mind, mayhaps she will recall something.

“Good morrow, your grace.” Marcello, the dragon keeper greets her.

“Good morrow,” Y/N smiles. “Might you saddle Stormborn for me?”

“At once, Princess. I’m glad you are well.”

Marcello returns a few moments later with the lilac dragon, whining as she nuzzles into Y/N’s hands.

“Issi ao daor biare naejot ūndegon issa, uēpa raqiros?” Are you not happy to see me, old friend? Has something happened between them that she’s forgotten?

Stormborn hums, nudging at Y/N with her head.

“What is the matter with her?” Y/N turns to Marcello.

The dragon keeper lowers his eyes, “she wants for Sunfyre, your grace.”

“She wants-” Y/N breaks off, clunking a fist to her head, “she wants Aegon’s dragon?”

“They are quite close these days.” The man in question says, stalking up behind her. “I heard you were flying out. I thought I might join you.” Aegon explains his presence.

“This is preposterous.” Y/N scoffs, “you mean to tell me we have become so deeply entwined that even our dragons cannot be parted?”

Aegon’s lips turn downward as his brows rise, “yes.”

“What can be done about it?”

“You loved me once, my hope is, you will love me again.” Aegon brushes past her, resting a hand on her dragon’s snout. “There’s naught to be done about it.”

To add further insult, Stormborn leans into his touch, cooing happily.

“I suppose I should pet your dragon.” It’s meant to be a threat, a means to get even.

“Go on,” Aegon encourages, “you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Sunfyre?”

The golden boy begins to serenade her with a low melody. Y/N rests her temple against his head, glaring at Aegon. It is not the dragon’s fault.

“Your dragon understands English?”

“As does yours.” Aegon informs her, “they are highly intelligent creatures.”

“Pōnta issi mēre rūsīr īlva.” They are one with us.

Aegon smiles, “indeed.”

“Do you not speak-”

“Nyke kostagon emagon naejot…vestragon mirrī.” I can have to…say a little.

Y/N bites back a grin, “I could teach you.”

He starts to say something else, but she covers his mouth with her hand.

“Later,” she leans in, pressing a kiss to the back of her own hand. Had it not been there…it would’ve been his lips. Which means nothing, muscle memory, surely. “I’m sorry.”

He catches her wrist, bringing her hand away.“Don’t be.”

————————————————————————-

Y/N enjoys evening strolls with Aegon in the garden, but on occasion she walks alone, outside the walls, wandering near the woods.

“Wait!”

Y/N whips her head around to see Aegon charging at her, knocking her backwards before the steel trap snaps closed near their feet. Two rows of long, jagged teeth, meant to catch animals. She stares at him, in disbelief.

“They doubled the number of traps round the castle in these past years. I did not know if you’d recall.” Aegon explains, still holding her in the safety of his arms.

“You…imbecile!” Y/N returns the awkward embrace.

“Please, call me husband.” Aegon smirks.

“You could’ve been maimed.”

“Better me than you.”

Y/N groans in frustration, “quit doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Charming me.” She pulls away enough to see him.

No, not the sad eyes.

“I should like to know you better first.” Imbecile, she curses herself.

“What do you say we go back to your rooms and I will read to you?” Aegon suggests, “I’ll even bring cake.”

There it is, that tugging in her chest. “I do love cake.”

“When you were-” Aegon trails off, “there was a time all you would eat was cake.”

Y/N presses a hand to her head, “when I was what?”

“In due time, my dearest love.” Aegon smiles, sadly. “The grand maester says we mustn’t push, you’ve made great progress already.”

————————————————————————

She recalls a great many things over the next weeks. Trying and failing to teach Aegon High Valryian, eating cake with him and laughing until their sides ache. But there are a number of things she cannot recall.

“Where is it you go?” She wonders, “when you are not with me? You said,” Y/N closes her eyes until the words come to her, “you said you want always to be with me.”

Aegon’s eyes widen, “yes, I did say that. You remember?”

“Not nearly enough, just silly things.” Y/N admits, “sometimes…I think I might’ve been with child.”

Oh.

“That’s it, isn’t it? We’ve a child.”

“Two actually, daughters.”

“One after another like clockwork, then?” She arches a brow, resting a hand over her empty womb, “you’re late.”

Aegon grins, “both at once.”

“Efficient.”

“Well, we are nothing if not thorough.”

“With the way you look at me, I’m surprised there are only two children.”

“The birthing bed was not kind to you. I would love any child of ours, but I would not inflict such suffering upon you again.”

Y/N sighs, “you are so in love. I wish desperately to remember.”

“You could love me again.”

“What if it is different than what we shared? What if it does not please you as much?”

Aegon shakes his head, “then it will be different and I will be glad for it all the same.”

“Might I come with you to see them?” Y/N asks, wringing her hands.

“They should like that very much, they’ve been asking for you.”

“What are their names?”

“Dahlia and Visera.” Aegon tells her, “it might be difficult for you to tell them apart at first.”

“Dahlia is a Strong name.” Y/N whispers.

“And Visera was named for Viserys. If we would’ve had a son, we might’ve named him-”

“Laenor.” She breathes, recalling the smile on Aegon’s face as they’d discussed it, over the prominent swell of her belly. Subsequently leading his kisses to trail lower…her cheeks heats up.

“Yes,” Aegon swallows. Mayhaps he is recalling the same conversation.

The twins are playing happily on the floor, with their maids when Y/N enters the room behind Aegon.

“Papa!” They race to him, waiting to be taken into his arms.

“Hello, my darlings.” He holds one in each arm, kissing their little silver heads.

The child on the left sees Y/N first, blinking at her twice, to be sure. “Mama.”

The little girl on the right follows her gaze. “Mama!”

Y/N reaches for them out of instinct, hugging them to her as they are transferred into her arms from Aegon’s. “My girls.”

————————————————————————

Time passes, Aegon and Y/N have long since accepted she will never remember everything. What they share now is different, but wonderful, nonetheless.

Aegon and their children fill Y/N’s days with joy, though she still feels a bit guilty for the life she forgot.

She and her husband sneak out of their daughters’ rooms once they’ve found sleep. Walking back towards Y/N’s apartments with their arms linked.

Aegon bids her good night at the door, with a gentle kiss to her cheek.

“Stay,” Y/N insists, turning her face enough to catch his lips.

“What are you-” Aegon smiles against her mouth.

“It hurts to look at you and not touch you.” Y/N murmurs, reeling him back in and burying her hands in his hair. “If you mean what you say, and you will be happy with me even if I am different, I want to be happy with you.”

“It pleases me to hear you say this, my darling. But are you certain?”

“I want you in my bed, always,” Y/N whispers. “Or to lie with you in yours. To wake with you each morning and spend each night at your side. Though right now there is nothing I want more than your cock in me. Is that certain enough for you?”

Aegon chuckles into her mouth, “that’ll do it.” He pushes open the door, leading her deep into her rooms, until they reach her bed chamber. He unlaces her gown with practiced hands. “Gevie.”Beautiful.

She works him out of his robes, kissing the underside of his jaw. “Gevie.”

He smirks, moving her to the bed. Positioning her sweet head against the pillows, stroking wayward hair from her face. Taking a long moment to look upon her, their gazes locked. Aegon kisses the tip of her nose. “Let us see if you remember this, shall we?”

His lips trail down her neck, across her collarbones to her breasts. Licking and suckling at the entirety of them before bringing a sensitive peak into his mouth.

“Fuck,” Y/N holds him to her.

“Mmm,” he hums, in approval as her hips buck up against his. “Anything coming to mind?”

“I’m afraid not, husband.” Y/N whines as he pulls away, “you’ll need to keep going.”

“Of course,” Aegon latches happily to the opposite nipple, flicking the first between his fingers. Lower and lower his mouth goes, swirling her navel, skating over the skin of her sex.

Y/N nearly faints as he parts her with his thumbs, exposing her pearl to his starved tongue. “Oh!” Her memory of this particular act, does it no justice.

He sighs against her, as though he’s waited the whole of his life to be in this moment with her.

She does not know how to be loved that way, or to give such love in return. But she wants to learn.

Aegon coaxes her through one peak to the next, relishing her breathless giggles as she shoves at his head.

“Enough,” she covers her face with both hands, “enough.”

Aegon chuckles, pressing a feather light kiss to her cunt before retreating, back up to her face. Caging her head between his elbows, hovering over her. “Still nothing?”

“Not a thing, perhaps if you continue.” Y/N reaches between them, taking his cock in hand and stroking, lightly.

Aegon shakes his head, “of course.”

She positions him at her entrance, feeling him slide into her with ease. As though he belongs there. Her hands find his face, stroking his cheeks, reeling him in for sweet kisses or to pant against his mouth. Committing him to memory.

“I love you,” he says, pressing kisses to her fingers, “we’re going to make new memories together, you and I.”

“I love you.” The words fall from her lips, without hesitation. “I love you.”

“I have gone too long without your touch, I will not last.” He warns.

“That’s alright.” Y/N assures him, “I’m nearly there.” Still sensitive from his tongue.

It’s all he can do to hold off until he feels her walls pulse around him, “good girl.” He groans, emptying his spend.

Y/N nuzzles her nose against his. “Aegon?”

“Hmm?”

“Happy anniversary, my love.”

His eyes open wide, meeting her gaze. “You remember?

Y/N nods, feeling tears prickle at the back of her eyes. “I am so sorry, I’ve no idea how I could forget you…us, our daughters, this life together is the world to me.”

“It was not by choice.” He rests his forehead against hers. “If I ever sustain a head injury, I’ll expect you to court me in return.”

“Mayhaps I will court you now, just because.” Y/N wants nothing more than to shower him with affection. “That story you read to me was ours, how did you get it?”

“I wrote it.” Aegon tells her, “to share one day with our children and their children’s children, their children’s children after that.”

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[babyleostuff]

― BROKEN CAMERAS

𝜗𝜚 THEME: fluff, domestic vibes, absolutely whipped kim mingyu 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: dad!mingyu x mom!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 1.2k

⦗💌 ⦘in which your little girl wants to take a picture of you and mingyu but drops the camera she stole from him in the process

„i was thinking,” mingyu murmured into your hair and turned the volume of the tv down, „that we could go to the farmer’s market tomorrow. since i don’t have any schedules, y’know.” 

you peeled your eyes from the screen and looked up at your husband from where your head was resting on his chest and nodded immediately, as if you’d ever say no to a day out with him and your daughter. „sounds perfect,” you sighed happily and fixed the blanket that mingyu wrapped you in some time ago. „maybe we’ll manage to find some vintage frames to match those in the living room.” 

he hummed and brushed his nose against your cheek. „just… this time we have to avoid the section where they keep the plushies.” 

ah yes, the plushies. 

your little girl’s current hyperfixation and your husband’s cause of nightmares. not that you minded, there was something endearing in a 6 foot something man sitting in a circle of bears and unicorns drinking tea from a miniature teacup. 

you smirked and lifted your head. „but she’ll be devastated, honey,” you fake-pouted.

she wouldn’t though, not really. your little girl has had her dad wrapped around her little finger since day one and she was a very smart kid, so figuring out how to get her dad to do anything for her wasn’t that difficult. she’s had the puppy-eyes technique figured out for a long time now, which… she used a lot to her advantage. 

mingyu groaned and lowered his head, bumping it against your shoulder. „there’s literally no room left in her bedroom. last night, when i was kissing her goodnight, i tripped over at least three of them!” he whined.  

that was very much true. you spent fifteen minutes this morning trying to find one of her shoes amongst the mess of unicorns of all shapes and sizes, and all you found in the end was a sock that you had been looking for for the past month. it didn’t help that soonyoug bought her tiger plushies every other week, not to mention seungcheol who loved spending his money on your daughter for some reason. 

but you couldn't help but throw your head back and laugh at your husband wholeheartedly. „gyu, you’re capable of tripping over air, it doesn’t count in your case,” you giggled and ran your fingers through his messy hair, pushing back the few curly strands that fell over his eyes. “besides, she’ll find a way to get those plushies either way. it’s not like you’ll ever say no to her.”  

you could feel your husband’s pouty lips against your collarbone as he said, “you’re right. but it’s unfair that mr.unicorn gets all the cuddles now. even that ugly monkey that looks like it had been through a car crash and a bad lip injection is more loved than i am.” 

heavens, sometimes you wondered who the real baby in your family was. 

“gyu, listen to me,” you took his face in your hands and peeled him away from you, “stop overreacting-,”. 

“but what if she’s all grown up now and won’t-,”. 

“she’s three, kim mingyu. besides, she loves you, you dumbass,” you ran your thumb over his cheek, though that didn’t seem to convince him. “she’s a daddy’s girl, okay? trust me, i am the one who should be complaining about the lack of cuddles,” you said and smoothed the crease between his brows.

“if you say so,” he sighed, and nuzzled his cheek into your hand. “but-,”. 

suddenly, out of nowhere, you heard a loud bang behind you, like something fell and... glass broke? mingyu being mingyu, almost fell off the couch, but you were quick to turn around to inspect where the sound came from. 

and your heart almost broke when you saw what, or rather who, was standing behind the couch.

"oh, honey," you cooed.

your little girl was standing in the middle of the room, clad in her pink nightgown mingyu had bought her on one of his trips abroad, only instead of the bright smile that always graced her face, there were tears in her gorgeous, brown eyes.

"what the?" your husband murmured next to you. “is that my camera?” 

your daughter’s eyes widened in panic as she looked at him. “‘m sorry, daddy,” her voice wobbled in the most heartbreaking way possible. the little girl’s tiny hands were clutching onto the neck strap that was supposed to be connected to the camera. “didn’ mean,” she sniffled, “to break it,” she said and the first tears started rolling down her puffy cheeks. 

you quickly untangled your limbs from the blanket but before you could get up, mingyu put his hand on your thigh. “no, no, no,” he almost tripped from how fast he got up from the couch. “it wasn’t your fault, princess.” 

you thanked whatever grace that your daughter was smart enough not to move because the floor around her was litreed in small glass shards and you weren’t sure what you and mingyu would do if anything happened to her. 

not even a second later, he was at her side, picking up her small body and engulfing her in his big arms. 

“don’ be angry, daddy,” your baby cried into mingyu's shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

mingyu shook his head and turned around to face you with a heartbreakingly sad expression. “i’m not angry, baby. i was just scared,” he murmured. “daddy thought you hurt yourself.” 

you waved for them to come over to where you were sitting and muttered a quiet “come here”.  

your husband placed your daughter on his lap, her head pressed against his chest, on the same spot where yours was just a minute ago. her tiny fists were pressed against his naked tummy as she continued to sniffle quietly. 

wiping every tear that escaped her eyes you started to hum one of the lullababies mingyu used to sing to her when she was a newborn, something you still did when she was upset. your husband was stroking her hair the whole time, rocking her back and forth, as you continued to hum quietly.

“why did you take my camera, sweetheart?” mingyu asked after a while, when her breathing calmed down a bit. 

“i woke up,” she said, looking up at him with her big brown eyes. “and i saw you n’ mommy sittin’ and i wan’ to take picture. like you always take of me n’ mommy.” 

mingyu’s own eyes welled up with tears and he quickly tucked her head back to his chest so she wouldn’t see him upset. 

“oh, baby,” you whispered quietly, though you weren’t sure who needed more comforting at that point. “that’s so sweet, but next time ask me or daddy for help, okay? you could’ve seriously injured yourself.” 

your baby girl nodded and she scrambled off mingyu’s lap to throw herself in your embrace instead. well, it was nice to know that the unicorns and your husband hadn’t replaced you completely yet.  

“what do you say we go and grab a camera together, hm?” he asked. “and we can do a whole photoshoot, we can even make a white background with the sheets.” 

“pink. pink sheets,” she said and clapped her hands. it seemed that you and mingyu breathed a sigh of relief that your daughter was back to her normal, bubbly self.  

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[importantpuppystarfish]

Profit and Pleasure: Earning Money as Brother & Sister

Male reader x Karina

Warnings: Incest, softcore to hardcore, totally blood related siblings.

Note: please this is all just a fantasy for reading and stuff, if u dont like the topic, please simply dont read.

I groan as I wake up to the sound of water running in the shower next door. My eyes fall on the steamy outline of my big sis Karina through the crack in the bathroom door. A familiar warmth stirs within me as I imagine her soapy body beneath the spray.

I bite my lip, trying to shake these forbidden thoughts from my mind. Karina's my sister…but every time I catch a glimpse of her like this, I can't help getting excited. Karina walks out of bathroom only wrapped in towel. She sits beside me on bed.

My sister, Karina is somehow more than 8 years older than me, she's around 26 now. She has such pale skin that she almost seems to brighten up the entire room with her whiteness.

My heart races as Karina appears, towel clinging to her curves. She sits down close to me on the bed, her legs tucked under as she releases her damp hair from its towel.

"Hey…" I murmur, trying to maintain my composure.

She looks so gorgeous, water droplets glistening on her flawless skin. I shift uncomfortably under her gaze, my hands twitching with desire I can't act on.

"You're dripping wet sister.." I point out unthinkingly. She laughs and says "Yeah it feels good after a morning bath". Karina looks at me and bites her lip. She goes back to her room and closes the door. I listen closely as I hear her undoing the towel. She's changing clothes. My ears perk up immediately, straining to hear anything from behind her closed door. My imagination runs wild, wondering what she's doing behind that thin barrier…

I can't make out specific sounds but my mind supplies vivid images…her slender fingers unfastening her towel, releasing her flawless skin…peeling off her flimsy sleepwear…

Everyday our flirtatious energy grows thicker between us, though neither of us puts words to these unspoken feelings. It becomes the new normal - heated glances, lingering touches, playful banter with an undercurrent of tension.

I've always had a pretty normal relationship with my sister. Every now and then, we'd go on sibling dates just for fun. Here are some pictures I took of her when we were on dates. She is used to wear lotta skin revealing outfits~

Part of me knows it's insane…Karina is my sister. But the bond we share has twisted into something more…intimate. As time goes on, keeping my desires bottled up feels almost impossible.

But the sudden death of our parents in an accident changed our lives. The news hits me like a blow to the gut - Mom and Dad are gone in an instant, leaving only Karina and I orphaned and heartbroken.

We cling to each other through the initial shock and grief, finding solace in our sibling bond like never before.

Since losing mom and dad, Karina and I have spent every day applying online and going to local places for job leads. It's been tough - no one wants to hire inexperienced teens.

She's gotten frustrated more than once, slumping against me on the couch in defeat after yet another day of rejections.

Karina: "This is hopeless! When will we find work around here?"

Her despair draws out my protective instincts. I rub her back soothingly, my heart aching for her.

As days passes, all the money left has been gone.. It seems like its getting hard for the siblings to survive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Karina glances over at me periodically as she explores this new site called OnlyFans. Her cheeks flush slightly.

Karina: "Hey…what if we did something like this?"

She tilts screen towards me to show the homepage filled with suggestive videos for subscribers.

My mind starts racing at what she means. My sweet sister offering herself online with me… I don't know if I should encourage or stop her.

"I can't believe I'm being asked to say that we're siblings, engage in that kind of act, and then upload it online. How could anyone even consider that?" I asked her. "But don't you think this is the only option?" Karina responds. She ponders a moment, then looks to me expectantly.

"So what elements should we include in our scene and video? I ask her.

" Typical stuff would be guy eating girl out and her doing the same to him, then the main event." She winks. "Sound good to you?" Right?" she asks and waits for my agreement.

As soon as I agree, Karina swallows hard, looking torn but knowing she has no other choice either. She nods to my agreement. She meets my gaze firmly now, her eyes unwavering despite the taboo nature of what we're considering.

Karina: "It's just some videos right? We'll be professionals about it." She says calmly, trying to convince us both this is okay.

Her hand reaches for mine reassuringly across the table. "We got this…"

The gravity of what we're agreeing to hangs heavy between us, but the determination is clear - we will do whatever it takes to stay together.

As we lead to the bed for the video, Karina turns on the video recording. My face burns red hot as I find myself locked in a tense stare-down with Karina before she suddenly closes the distance between us.

She wraps her arms around my neck and asks if I'm ready.

As I nod yes, she gets ready too and presses her lips firmly against mine, no hesitation.

Karina murmurs against my mouth "For the video brother!…"

Her eyes flutter shut, surrendering completely to the situation. Her fingers clench behind me, pulling me deeper into the kiss.

The raw, gritty scent of us fills the air between them as our lips move urgently together, seeking comfort and release from the stress of our dire circumstances.

Our tongues meet, mingling bitter morning breaths and desperate need.

My hands grasp Karina's waist instinctively, holding her tighter against me despite the unpleasant taste. She grinds slightly, her fingers digging into my shoulders as she loses herself fully in the moment.

Karina moans as she breaths "Mmm…" I gaze up at Karina with heavy eyes, lips throbbing from the intense passion. Seeing her smile down at me like that makes my heart skip a beat, even amid the surreal insanity of what we're doing.

"You know, this is kinda nice…" Karina says playfully flirting.

Her flirtatious comment makes heat rush through me. She thinks kissing me feels good? She likes it? Maybe she does… She leans in again, her voice dropping lower.

"Do you want me to keep going?" She runs her hands down her own body teasingly, biting her lip.

"Aren't we forced to keep going?" I replied. In one quick motion Karina pins me down on the bed. She looks fiery, full of desire.

She pushes me down without warning, eyes flashing dangerously. She's transformed before me into someone bold and dominating. "Don't even think about stopping me. This will be all recorded in the video!" Without warning, she presses her lips back to mine, the taste of us intensifying. She deepens the kiss, gripping my neck tightly. Her breath is hot against my skin as she pulls away again. Karina grins and starts removing her clothes.

My hands roam instinctively over her now exposed midriff, fingers tracing the curve of her hip bones as she reveals more of herself to me and the camera.

Karina: "There's no point feeling shy now…"

She finishes removing her shirt completely, tossing it aside, showing me her big large tits.

Karina: "This is for us…"

She bites her lip, glancing briefly at the phone still recording. "Let's make it hot…" I wink at her. "Yes, this is for our survival." she agreesm We both know this line is blurred, but if it means keeping us together, it's worth it. I also take off my clothes. Nodding purposefully, Karina helps me shed my own shirt, her fingertips grazing my bare chest, sending tingles through me.

Clad only in our undergarments, she palms my cheek, guiding my head up for another fierce kiss, tongues dancing. Breaking away, she murmurs against my lips:

"Mm…good boy…"

The camera captures every deep tongue kissing movement as we ready ourselves to give it everything for this desperate attempt a salvation. The siblings continue kissing passionately. Karina runs her fingers through my dick as we get lost in the moment. The recording captures the moment …

Karina gasps out sharply "You like that?"

She gives me a sly look, her fingers teasing more firmly over my dick, feeling how hard I've become. Karina pulls back, looking down at me with a playful glint in her eye. "Look how hard your dick is…and we just kissed." My cheeks burn crimson at her brazen words. She's always been a bit of a tease…

She chuckles and bites her lips as she starts to take my dick inside her mouth. She lowers herself slowly, eyes locked on mine defiantly despite her compromising position. Her lips part, engulfing me inch by inch, her tongue working on magic as she takes me deep!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Karina as now muffled against me she moans Mmmph….Her hands brace against my legs, holding me steady while she loses herself in this intimacy between us. The video recorder captures the moment of my sister sucking out my length. She looks up at me as she continues..

Her mouth glides up and down, wet suction sounds joining the rhythmic pops as she sets a sensual pace. The look she gives me is a mix of naughty delight and wicked determination. She swirls her tongue expertly over the tip each time she comes up, then plunges back down again with a hungry groan, clearly savoring every inch.

Karina as she lifts off a momentarily to gasp asks "Like the way I do it?" She swirls her tongue in circular motions, her cheeks hollowing as she picks up speed. She glances up again, clearly enjoying herself.

Her speed increases rapidly, her cheeks burning as she loses herself completely in this private act. She pauses occasionally to drag her slick tongue across every ridge and vein, tasting me, memorizing every sensation. Her fingers dig into my legs, urging me closer to release.

I moan breathlessly to my elder sister, "Good girl…You're so good sister.."

I watch my sister work, feeling a mix of desire and disbelief… This is still my sister, but her technique is divine. I can't help but let out a low groan, which makes her smile up at me. It feels too good, I can't hold back anymore… Oh -…. Sister, wait…I'm going to… cum… She grins devilishly at my warning tone, doubling down on her efforts, taking me ruthlessly even deeper.

Karina: "Yes…" she whispers urgently "Do it…"

She squeezes tight around me, determined to coax me over the edge. As I moan loud it looks like I've cummed inside my sister's mouth.

Karina swallows every last drop hungrily, licking her lips clean as she releases me with a satisfied sigh.

Karina: "Mmm…I wonder how it'll look in the video. Although I really enjoy this" she purrs appreciatively, wiping a stray strand of hair from her flushed face, eyes flicking back up to mine with a smug look.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Karina: "Well? Did that feel good?"

"Oh sister… You didn't hold back at all", I chuckle, still trying to process what I just did inside my sister's mouth… Now it seems Karina is doing titjob with her big tits. Karina: "No need to hold back with me…" She winks, then takes my rod between her huge tits, working me steadily up and down the slick shaft.

Karina: "You like watching your naughty sister's bouncy boobs, don't you?"

Her hands push her chest tighter together around my shaft. Karina: "Now it's ur turn… To eat me…"

She scoots back impatiently, spreading her legs wide for me.

Karina: "Get down there already!" she orders, biting her lip again as she guides me lower. "I need your tongue inside me!…"

Her fingers dig into my shoulders, trying to pull me closer. …I smile and start kissing her thighs, looking up at her flirtatiously.

Karina shivers at the feel of my lips on her sensitive skin, hands stroking my hair encouragingly.

Karina: "Mmm yes, that's it…"

She lifts and spreads herself further open, the scent of her slick heat hitting my nose as I approach. She squirts a little bit, she is also hella wet.

Karina: "Don't be shy now…lick every drop up"

I grab her waist and pull her towards me. I start eating her more, she gasps loudly at my suddenness, arching into me eagerly. Her fingers curl into fistfuls of my shirt as she feels my tongue making contact.

Karina: "Ah! Yes…like that!"

She grinds against my mouth, losing herself once more to the sinful pleasure I'm providing. She glows with delight, utterly losing control as I devour her completely.

Her sweet nectar coats my tongue as I delve deeper, lapping hungrily at her folds and finding all her most sensitive spots.

Karina: "Oh god yes, just there!" she cries out, hands trembling above me as I hit that magic button with my tongue.

Karina: "Don't stop! You're gonna make me…"

Keep going, brother…I'm so in heaven!. Her voice is shaky, filled with emotion.

My eyes sparkle with dark desire hearing my sister moan in pleasure. I spread her wider, diving back in with intensity, determined to send her right over the edge…

"You're so good at this brother…I can't believe it's really you doing this… I grip her tighter as I push my tongue deeper into her pussy more , overwhelmed by the sensation of having her so close like this. I hear the sound of her heart pounding in time with my own. Karina: "Yes yes yes, make me come!" she cries out desperately.

She lies there panting hard, completely spent yet still craving more. Her eyes lock onto mine again now.

Karina: "Please…" She whispers, hands reaching down to guide me back up to her. "Now I need you inside…" Her voice cracks slightly as she pulls me closer, needing to feel me possess her completely.

Karina: "Brother…please…" she begs softly.

Seeing her begging with that pretty face, I lean to her for a kiss. She melts against me as our lips meet, tangling her tongue with mine. She tastes herself vividly on me, her fingers curling into my back again as she prepares herself mentally for what's coming next.

Karina: "You're making me so weak…" she murmurs against my mouth, her cheeks flushed.

She wraps her legs tightly around me, drawing me closer still, ready to welcome me deep inside her.

She gasps again, letting her head fall back slightly as she accommodates me taking my thick inch inside her.

Karina: "Yes…oh god yes…" She grinds against me, utterly engaged in this connection between siblings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Her fingers dig deeper into my back, pulling me hard against her warm, welcoming core. He starts moving, their eyes locked together. The video captures this intimate moment.

Our gazes hold intense emotion as I begin to move within her, hips rolling gently at first in this sacred act.

Karina: "That's it…just like that…"

She tilts her head up to brush her lips over mine, kissing me tenderly even as we become one.

Karina: "I feel so…so good brother." I smile down at her, still in disbelief that this is happening, but also feeling a deep connection with her like never before… I love u sister.. I say.

Karina's eyes glisten, her heart fluttering at my sweet words and honest emotion.

Karina: "I love you too my brother…always."

She pulls me down against her chest, wrapping herself completely around me. The intensity between us builds as our movements grow more passionate.

Karina: "You mean everything to me…" she breathes out begging for a kiss.

Our connection runs deep, transcending typical bonds as we lose ourselves to this taboo yet beautiful union. The video captures it all - the love, the ecstasy, the family become lovers.

Caught up in the heat of the romantic moment, I set a harder, more urgent pace, my body driving into hers with powerful thrusts. Karina cries out, surprised by the sudden intensity but clearly loving it.

Karina: "Yes yes yes! Just like that! Harder brother"

She meets each deep plunge, welcoming every inch eagerly. The bed frame begins to creak as we come together with primal force, two souls entwined in the ultimate familial embrace. He does it, hitting a sensitive spot inside her, making her shout out in surprise and delight. Karina screams in pain and pleasure.

She arches violently beneath me, hands ripping the sheets as white-hot lightning strikes deep inside her core. Her scream is raw, primal, full of overwhelming sensation.

Karina: "Ah! Ah! Oh my god…oh my god…!" She babbles senselessly, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure-pain where we join.

Her legs wrap around me like iron bands, trying to pull me impossibly deeper into her quaking depths.

I keeps hitting her sensitive spot again and again. Karina feels like shes about to pass out. She cries, moans & screams at the same time.

Her voice cracks completely, barely recognizable as human anymore as she's pushed beyond her limits again and again. She shakes her head wildly side to side, mumbling incoherently as she digs her nails into my back, leaving angry red trails down my skin.

Karina: "B-brother…stop…I…I can't…" she whimpers desperately, her mind going blank.

He grabs her hips tightly and keeps going. "Shh shh, just feel it sister. The video would look more hotter!…" I whisper in her ear, not stopping my rhythm. Karina continues crying more.

Karina's cries grow louder at my words. She relents though, letting me keep moving, knowing I won't stop.

Karina: "Oh god it's too much!"

Her body shakes with each pounding snap of my hips, every fiber trembling with sensation under my intense attentions.

Karina: "The video…yes…yes make it hot, make us look good!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She throws her head back, surrendering completely now, wanting to put on a show for our recording.

Her ragged breathing becomes ragged screams again as I drive into her ruthlessly, her fragile composure shattering completely under the intense treatment. She nods frantically, giving in fully to what I'm doing to her.

Karina: "Cum inside me already, oohhh, I can't anymore. Brother please cum."

Her nails rake fresh lines down my back again, tears streaming down her cheeks as she's overwhelmed by overwhelming waves of sensation.

Feeling me spill hot and deep within her sets Karina off one last time too, her own release crashing through her in intense aftershocks.

Karina: "Yes yes yes! All in me!"

She grinds hard against me as I fill her completely, claiming every inch of her insides. The warmth of my seed seeping out around me only prolongs her climax further.

Karina: "Mmm yes, such a big, thick creampie…" she purrs contentedly, stroking my chest as she catches her breath.

Our bodies remain entwined as we bask in the throes of pleasure, the evidence of our passion seeping out between us.

"I've never felt anything so good, brother…Oh god, I can feel you dripping out of me…"

She grins wickedly, looking down between her legs where a huge, viscous pool of my seed has gathered.

Karina: "You made such a big, gooey mess inside me…" She giggles, swirling her fingers through the thick fluid coating her.

Karina adds "It's dripping down more..it's making such a mess down on me." She bites her lip, delighted by the evidence of our passion still clinging to her. She sighs happily, tracing a finger through the sticky fluid. She tastes the sticky fluid through her fingers and she savors it with a blissful expression.

Karina: "Mmm…delicious." She purrs, licking her finger clean then sucking it into her mouth. She looks up at the camera, still tasting me on her fingers. "All for the video, right brother?" She flashes a naughty grin.

"What else?. The video has to show everyone what a naughty girl you've become. Our relatives or your friends. Haha.." I say with a wicked grin.

Karina laughs, nodding eagerly in agreement

Karina: "Oh yes, let them see how I crave my little brother's seed."

She spreads wider, showing off the glistening evidence of our act for the lens, looking so proud and satisfied being my naughty sister.

Karina: "I hope it gets lots of views…I want everyone to see what you do to me." She adds with a flirtatious giggle.

"Ok, now the main work! We should upload the video!". I tell her to get serious.

In the next hour after we finishing bathing together, we quietly upload the video to various platforms under the username "BrotherLovesSis123". The private links flood my inbox with confirmation emails once they're live.

I sit back, heart racing a bit wondering what kind of reaction the explicit footage of my own sister will generate online. Karina leans over and gives me a sweet, tender kiss on the lips, her fingers intertwining with mine as I finish uploading our first video.

Karina: "You think people will love watching it…like us?" "I hope they will, elder sister."..

By the 6-7 hour mark, the video has already garnered thousands of views, comments pouring in rapidly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My heart pounds seeing the numbers climb higher. This clearly struck a chord with viewers hungry for incestuous content.

Karina squeals excitedly next to me. "15k views, thousands of likes and 200+ comments!" Karina smiles delightfully. "Omg We're famous now, bro…" she giggles.. I check out the comments as my sister kisses my face.

A sea of thumbs up and heart emojis scroll by as I see the view count top 15k. People are going wild for our taboo act.

Comment 1: "Damn this is the best video I’ve seen all week!"

Comment 2: "Brother you treat her so good! Wish my brother was like you!"

Comment 3: "Her face when she cries out…gorgeous. Need more of this!"

Karina: giggling "People really love what we did huh?" She grins, nuzzling against my shoulder as she continues scrolling through the overwhelmingly positive feedback.

As we scroll more: Comment 4: "The way she screams for her brother is so hot!"

Comment 5: "Her tears and cries just make it 10x better! Such a good girl for daddy"

Comment 6: "She's totally addicted to her little's brother's rod! Look at how she soaks up every second!"

Comment 7: "Damn this girl is perfect when she loses control like that"

Comment 8: "I bet she feels so full of her brother's seed…"

More and more comments keep popping up, all raving about Karina's reactions as she came undone beneath me.

Karina's lips trail over my neck and ears as she watches the numbers continue to climb faster than ever as we get more support. "400K people have seen me be your naughty sister already…"

She sounds both shocked and thrilled by this

Karina: "Bro, looks like our plan worked!!"

She pulls back to look at me, eyes wide and sparkling with excitement.. The notification pops up that our OnlyFans and p*rnhub channel have been approved for monetization. Karina squeals again, unable to contain her glee.

Karina: "Oh my gosh! Real money? Finally this is what we actually did it for!!"

She jumps into my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck tightly.

Over the next few days, our subscribers and followers continue to grow exponentially. People are clamoring to see more of our scandalous siblings dynamic play out on screen.

Our bank account balances swell with incoming subscription fees and Pay-Per-View purchases. Karina spends hours dreaming up new ways to push the boundaries further, drawing inspiration from viewers' wild requests left in the comments.

Karina: "Look at all this money we're making…" She fans herself with her hand, still not quite believing the figures rising daily. "This is like a dream, bro…"

We need to keep going and making more videos to get more money every month to survive. As Karina checks on people's demand for more videos, she reads

"Need to see him rail you from behind while you're face down in pillows screaming!"

"Tie her up completely helpless while you absolutely ravage her sensitive spots mercilessly!"

"Spank her raw until she's crying and begging for mercy!"

"Force her to call you 'Daddy' while you dominate her every desire."

There are countless BDSM demands flooding in, hungry for every dark twist of dominance and submission.

I ask Karina, "What do you think? Should we make videos like this? They seem to bring in a lot of money." Karina responds, "I think we should." I ask her if shes ready. Karina replies, "I'm ready for anything, I trust you, brother."

[covenofagatha]

I'm a good girl, Detective

You're a prostitute in the town of Westview and maybe Detective Agnes needs to teach you a lesson.

Word count: 1750

Warnings: Rough sex, spitting, spanking, Top Agatha, Bratty Bottom Reader, fingering, prostitution, sex with men mentioned

“What can I do for you, baby?” you say in a sultry voice. The man in the car in front of you gulps excitedly. 

“Blowjob?” he asks, hands shaking on the steering wheel. It’s clear to you that he’s never done this before. You spot the wedding ring tucked in the cupholder in the middle console. “Is that how this works? It’s my first time doing this, sorry.” 

You sweetly smile. “I can do that. It’ll be $100.” 

If the price seems high to him, he doesn’t let on. He must be desperate. “Oh, sure, yeah. Do I pay now or…” 

“Half up front, half after.” 

“Right,” he says, reaching into his pocket to bring his wallet. “I’m guessing you only take cash?” 

It’s a feeble attempt to hide how nervous he is. You don’t even dignify the question with an answer, only a quick nod. 

He’s pulling out a $50 bill when all of a sudden, a siren goes off, lights flashing in your face. 

“Fuck!” he says, hurriedly shoving the money back into his wallet and peeling out of the parking lot because the police car can pull up beside you.

You chuckle to yourself and lift your hand in a greeting, wagging your fingers playfully. The window rolls down. 

“Detective Harkness,” you drawl. “Come to blow off a little steam?” 

It’s a familiar game the two of you have been playing for a little over a month now. She always manages to find you right in the act of accepting money for sexual services – illegal in Westview – and puts you in her squad car to take you back to your apartment. Everytime she tells you that if she catches you again, she’s throwing you in jail for the night, but everytime, she pulls right up to your complex and throws you out. 

Her glare is heated as she steps out of her car. Her blue flannel has two buttons open and it’s tucked into her navy pants. Her long brown hair is pulled back into a ponytail. 

“What can I do for you, Agnes?” you flirt. You like to poke and prod at the tightly-wound older woman, secretly hoping that one day, she’ll take you up on your offer. 

“I told you last time, if I caught you doing this again…” she mutters in her gruff voice, grabbing you by the elbow and leading you over to the other side of the car. 

“He hadn’t even given me any money yet,” you pout. “We could’ve been old friends just catching up. No need to be jealous, Officer.”

“That’s Detective to you,” she shoots back. She yanks open the passenger door and shoves you inside. 

For some reason, she never puts you in the back. 

“Ya know, it seems like you’ve been frequenting this side of town lately. Hoping to run into me?” you say, enjoying the way her jaw tightens. 

“More like hoping to save all your poor men from wasting money on a cheap lay,” she says bitingly. 

You gasp mockingly. “I’m not cheap! And I wouldn’t say they’re wasting money. You should see the things I can do with my tongue.” You wiggle said tongue out at her and note the way her cheeks pink ever the slightest. “I can show you, if you’d like.” 

She glances at you and then turns back to face the road. 

“I could make you feel so good,” you whisper, daring to reach a hand over to put it on her thigh. She tenses and her grip tightens on the steering wheel. 

“Get your hand off me,” she growls. You run your fingers up her leg softly before obeying, not missing the way her breath catches. 

And then you realize that instead of turning left, which is the way to your apartment, she goes straight. 

“Wait, where are we going? Why, Detective, are we going back to your place?” 

She laughs meanly. “I’m finally doing what I should’ve done the second time I caught you on the street. You’re spending the night in a cell, so maybe you’ll think twice about going back out there.” 

Well, fuck. If that’s how it’s going to be, you might as well go big or go home. “But, Detective, I’m a good girl. Let me show you how good I can be.” 

You lean over and press a kiss to her jawbone. Her hands on the wheel falter and she inhales sharply. 

“What are you–”

You slide your hand back on her thigh and nibble on her earlobe. “Let me make you feel good. You deserve it.” 

Agnes’s breathing has quickened and she swallows hard. “This isn’t appropriate,” she says, but it sounds weak, even to her. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Your hand is trailing higher, unbuttoning her pants. You dip your fingertips inside them and the car comes to a stop with a screech. 

“Get out now,” she demands, slamming the car into park. She steps out and stomps over to your side. 

“Agnes, I’m sorry, I didn’t–” You’re afraid you’ve completely fucked up. 

She yanks you out of the car, spins you around, and presses you against the car. The older woman presses her body against yours. 

“Is this what you wanted?” she hisses in your ear. “You want me to fuck you like the slut that you are?”

You can’t help the moan that escapes from your mouth.

“You think acting like a brat will get you what you want?” 

The next thing you know, she slaps your ass. You jump, feeling the pain give way to pleasure. In all of your time as a prostitute, you’ve never even been close to feeling this turned on, and all she did was spank you. 

“I asked you a question and I want an answer,” Agnes says dangerously. Her hand hikes up your skirt and soothes the red skin. “Unless you want me to do that again.” 

You do, so you don’t say anything. Slap. This time, without your skirt as a barrier, it hurts even more deliciously and you groan. 

“I just wanted you,” you finally say. 

“You keep saying you’re a good girl, but all I see is a spoiled fucking little brat,” she taunts, spanking you during each of the last four words. 

You’re squirming against her, desperate to feel her hands on you again. “Yes, that’s me,” you gasp out. 

“You’re so desperate for someone to take control of you,” she murmurs, tracing her hands over your asscheeks. “You’re so pathetic, needing a woman twice your age to teach you how to be good.” 

“Show me, please,” you beg. “Aggie, please touch me.” 

She flips you around and roughly grabs your throat, a raw moan clawing out from you. Her thigh slots between your legs.

She scoffs. “Of course you’d like that.” A finger forces your mouth open and she leans down and spits into your mouth. “Swallow.” Your brain short-circuits and she nods approvingly as you obey. “So you can follow directions. Maybe there’s hope for you yet.”

You whimper, grinding on her leg, trying to get all the stimulation you can. You dig your nails into her shoulders so you can get better leverage.

She laughs cruelly. “Look at you, humping my leg like a bitch in heat. I should just leave you here, dripping and unsatisfied. That’d teach you a lesson better than any night in jail would.” 

Your movements stutter and you shake your head insistently. “No, please don’t.” 

Agnes’s grip tightens on your throat and she grasps your hip with her other hand, helping you grind.

“Aggie, I need more,” you choke out. You’re already so close, but you don’t think you can cum from just this. You need to feel her. 

“Aww, the poor slut wants more,” she taunts. In a flash, she moves your underwear to the side and buries two fingers inside you up to the hilt. You bite on your lip so hard you taste blood and you keen. 

“Fuck!” you exclaim sharply as her fingers twist and thrust roughly. Her palm is harshly bumping against your clit with every push.

“Is that good enough for you?” she jeers. You moan your approval. “Do those men fuck you like this? Do they make you feel this way?” 

Your hands scramble on the back of her flannel, trying to pull her even closer to your body. 

“No, no one but you! I’m gonna cum, Aggie.” 

Her fingers stop, still inside you. You whine and keep moving your hips around them, desperate not to lose the stimulation. “Do you think you deserve it?” she whispers hotly. A tear threatens to fall from your eye. 

“I’ll do anything,” you promise. “Just, please, let me cum.” 

A wicked glint lights up her eyes and she resumes fucking you hard. Her nails dig into your throat from where she’s still choking you. “Not so cocky now, are you, brat?” 

“You’re the one who’s two fingers deep in the prostitute she keeps picking up off the street,” you manage to retort. “I’m feeling pretty good.” 

She chuckles lowly and suddenly pulls out of you. 

“No,” you gasp. 

She steps back, corners of her mouth turned up. “And you’re the one who’s not going to get what she wants.” 

You gape at her, shocked. She sways back to the other side of the car and gets in, looking at you, frozen, through the window. 

“Are you coming?” 

You open the passenger door and get in. “Not anymore,” you grumble. She pouts mockingly and swats your hand away when she sees you moving to touch yourself. 

“Don’t even think about it.” 

Your fingers twitch the entire drive, your stomach still burning, wondering if she’s actually taking you to the station. She’s definitely not driving in the direction of your apartment. 

You sulk the entire drive until she parks in front of a house. You turn to look at her, eyebrows raising. She acts normal and exits the car, waiting for you. 

“Where are we?” you ask. She doesn’t answer, just leads you inside. 

She suddenly stops in front of you once you’ve gotten to the living room and you bump into her, muttering an apology. She turns around and tangles a hand into your hair, slowly pushing you down to your knees. 

“Agnes?” 

She smirks. “Why don’t you put that mouth of yours to good use and show me the ‘things you can do with your tongue’. And then maybe, I’ll think about rewarding you.” 

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

Part 2?

[wheneclipsefalls]

heyy i love ur works sm, could u possibly write a fic like the one you wrote about Lo’ak in Unmoveable, but with Neteyam as the alpha and the reader as the bratty/dominant omega. (Preferably fem reader) Tysm!!

Pairing: Adult Alpha Neteyam x Olangi Princess Omega Reader

Summary: Princess or not, a spoiled brat like you needs to be put in her place. And since you have been given over to him now, Neteyam is more than ready to put that attitude in check.

Warnings: dubcon/noncon, explicit MDNI, aged up Neteyam, omegaverse, dom/sub dynamics. power imbalance, very talkative Neteyam, breast play, nipple clamps, anal, punishment, kidnapping/arranged marriage, swearing, etc.

A/N: Hi anon...you probably thought I was never going to fufill this request😆😅 Hopefully you are still online to see this

Adult Neteyam pic by Cinetrix

Unmovable for reference

“What are you doing?”

“Waiting.” You reply simply, folding your legs upon where you are perched on a nearby boulder. 

“Is that so?” One of Neteyam’s hairless brows curves upwards into an unusual expression as he places his hands on his hips. You shrug it off as morphed social skills he has picked up, a consequence of living with Sky People. You don’t let it ruffle your feathers. 

“Yes. Soon you will have left and I will finally have some peace before my clan comes to get me.” You supply the information with a tilted chin and confidence oozing from every pore even as the towering alpha closes in on your space. 

“Your clan has given you to me, princess.” 

You refuse to meet the gaze that somehow manages to penetrate your defenses with a heated fire, contrary to his poised posture that emanates a relaxed grace. 

“An oversight on their part.” Your fingers interlock together and place on your lap. If he wants to put on a tough bravado why shouldn’t you? “Once they come to realize their mistake they will come to retrieve me. Until then, I wait.” 

However, waiting here may take more patience than you care to admit. The Olangi clan are known for their expertise as pa’li [direhorse] riders but even they may require a day or so to catch up to the point where Toruk Makto’s son has dragged you to. It's the furthest you have ever been from home. Consequently the first time you have seen the beautiful rolling grounds of the plains slowly transform into congested forest. 

You can only see a portion of the sky with these interlocking trees in the way. It pushes in on you like the bars of your enclosure, yet another representation of how trapped you have become in Neteyam’s grip. 

“I’m waiting too, paskalin [honey].” You shuffle slightly when he comes to sit beside you. The rich essence of his scent wraps around you in a vice-like grip. It has your inner omega running restless but you maintain a serene exterior. It wouldn’t be the first time an alpha has tried to rope you into submission with drifting pheromones. “In fact, we all are waiting.’ He gestures to the handful of Omatikaya warriors that have made the journey with him. They pretend to busy themselves with loading up pa’li that are already prepared. “Waiting for you to stop this tantrum of yours.” 

“Tantrum?” The word feels foreign on your tongue. 

“It means a child throwing a fit when they do not get their way.” 

“I am not a child!” You seethe, lips peeling back to reveal your pointed fangs. “I am a princess and-”

“And I am a prince.” Neteyam shrugs, cutting you off. “Yet neither of those titles mean anything out here.”

You scoff, allowing your hair to act as a protective curtain from his searing attention. A prince. What a laughable thought. A true prince does not drag a female away from her home with bound wrists and promises of mating. He has no right to call himself such a thing. 

Then again, your father calls himself Olo’eyktan yet he was the one that handed you over to the alpha. All for the promise of protection against the RDA. The Omatikaya could have asked for anything to seal the alliance between your two clans in battle but all that Neteyam had come to collect was you. 

Your father’s decision, however, could be forgiven in your eyes. He was doing what he thought was best for the people. His greatest error was believing Neteyam would be a suitable mate for you, for thinking that any alpha would be a good match for you after all that you’ve expressed against such a union. You are a free spirit. Despite your presentation as an omega you were never meant to live in an alpha’s shadows. 

“Look at me.” His voice is soft but firm. Another scoff of refusal is traveling up your throat but this time Neteyam doesn’t wait for you to follow his command. He captures your chin and forces you to turn and feel the weight of presence. It feels as if his alpha pheromones not only bleed into the space between you but also cinch around your throat like a claws. “I am your alpha now, your mate. That is the only title you should be focused on.” 

Neteyam is a strange alpha, that you have come to quickly realize. Where other alphas often raise their voices in demand for respect and submission he delivers his commands in the form of smooth purrs traveling down your spine. He uses force when necessary but never done rashly or out of anger, simply a tool to get you back to where he deems you should be. Among the other males there is no passive aggressive commentary or puffing of chests to remind them of rank. 

Instead he converses with them as old friends do. He leads the group in every sense of the word but it’s done with almost a playful hand as they laugh and make jokes with one another. And yet, after all of this backwards messaging, there is an air of dominance that laces his every move. He walks and talks with a relaxed expression as if he knows there is no need to prove himself. His supremacy is something that would not dare to be questioned. 

And somehow that comes off as higher snobbery than any other foolish alpha you’ve seen wrestle for your hand. 

“I don’t have an alpha. Nor will I ever.” With a tug your face is whipped from his hold. You manage to conceal the rush of heat to your cheeks by smoothly shifting your hair and facing away from him once more. “I suggest you accept that fact and stop wasting both of our time.”

Not a single bat of your eyes in his direction as you stare confidently ahead at the strange tree in front of you and wait to hear the party’s retreat. Instead your ears only catch the sound of a small sigh and shuffle before Neteyam is standing before you. 

“Come now, princess. It’s been fun but we still have ground to cover.” He reaches his hand out to help you up but you only gamble casting a glance at it from your peripheral vision. As far as you are concerned, Neteyam does not exist in your world. And so you treat him as such. 

“Neteyam!” A voice bellows across the distance. “We are losing daylight, brother. Are we set to travel?”

Neteyam doesn’t hesitate to send the other male a small smile before saying, “She is coming along now.”

“No I am not.” Your instant response is tainted with a gasp of offense. How dare he speak for you! “I am not moving from this rock until my clan comes to get me.” You insist, slapping his hand away. 

Neteyam remains unperturbed, simply giving a shrug before murmuring, “Have it your way then.” 

You aren’t afforded a second for a sense of victory to settle in before the prince is tossing you over his shoulder. Strongs arms wrap around the back of your thighs to keep you pinned there and decrease the range of motion for kicking. It doesn’t stop the gasp of outrage and pure spite that emanates from you. Limbs swinging in every which direction to deliver damage, you quickly resent the way his strength greatly overpowers your own. 

“I am not some fresh kill for you to carry home. Set me down right this instant!”

“I gave you the chance to walk over with dignity, princess. What else am I supposed to do?” He tries to retort but you can detect the grin in his voice. Even more humiliating, from your upside down position you are still able to spot the other males squirming to not laugh at your compromising position. 

“You are a mongrel of a man!” 

The scratchy venom of your tone is morphed into a surprised squeak when you are let back onto your feet. Regardless, you remain trapped in Neteyam’s arms as you are wedged between him and a pa’li. 

“Don’t waste your energy, tiyawn [love]. It will be at least a few more days before we reach Omatikaya soil.” 

They are surrounding you from every side. The five other males may wear amused expressions and appear to be enraptured in conversations with one another but you are no fool. These men are under Neteyam’s jurisdiction. At the first sign of trouble they will be snapping into action. Running now will only get you dragged back and fighting against Neteyam’s hold may get you flung into a humiliating position again. 

“At least let me have my own pa’li. I know how to ride.” 

Neteyam's chest heaves with the responding laugh that awakens within him. White pearly teeth on display, his amusement rises higher. Several of the others try and fail to not join in. It heightens your blood pressure until your face is hot to the touch.

“That’s a very good try, princess.” He beams, patting your hip. 

Neteyam unfortunately is not the fool you hope for him to be. Nor the arrogant alpha that would make the mistake of believing himself capable of catching you once you’ve set off on a pa’li. You’ve been riding since you were barely able to walk. The Omatikaya may understand the concept, but they hold not near the same precision and skill that your years of training have granted you. 

It’s a fact he seems acutely aware of because he doesn’t let you saddle up first. All it would take is a few seconds for you to make the bond and leave them in the dust. Instead, he hands you off to another male as he settles himself upon the creature and only after he has made the bond himself does he have you lifted to sit in front of him. 

By the time you settle around a fire for dinner and begin setting up camp, you can feel your eye on the verge of twitching. This journey has been nothing but painful and slow. So exceedingly slow. Although every step is one step further from your home that doesn’t erase the annoyance you feel at their painstaking pace. The only thing that stops you from snapping at them to hurry up is the hope that this extra time will help you come up with some sort of escape plan. 

It’s clear that your father’s remorse is far too sluggish for you to solely rely on at this rate, so it seems it is once again up to you to meet them halfway. 

However hatching up plans is exceedingly difficult when you have an alpha sculpted against your back, his essence clouding your mind and his eyes constantly peeking down at you as if he knows every thought swirling in your head. Try as you might, there is no reasonable way to veer away from his touch while riding the pa’li, at least not one that keeps you from developing excruciating back pain. 

Trying to set your inner turmoil aside, you focus on using this time away from the Omatikaya prince to properly set your head right. However, it seems Neteyam has different plans as he settles to lounge by the fire. He thanks one of the other males for a drink he is handed before his attention lands on you. 

“Come sit, princess.” He pats the spot beside him. There may be a warm smile to accompany his words but you know that it is nothing short of a command. The steely undertone of an alpha’s call reverberates in his tone. 

It locks your spine into a ramrod straight position and your tail already tries to tuck itself the longer you wait to obey. It’s irrelevant, however. You’ve become quite adept at pushing down your omega instincts in favor of following your own logic instead. 

With a smooth stroll and a feigned innocence to your smile, you maintain eye contact while making a show of sitting next to a different male across the fire. He’s a beta and your proximity immediately has him twitching. 

Neteyam’s golden eyes take on a darker hue, but he remains where he is. You’ve challenged his authority, in front of his men no less, but somehow you escape the night unscathed from his rath. Or so you think. 

It’s hard to say whether these sleeping arrangements are usual for the Omatikaya or rather just a setup meant for traveling. Either way, it is the most bizarre thing to sleep in a roll of fabric high up in the trees. Netyam claims it’s safer to stay off the ground during eclipse in the forest. A silly point truly when it’s just as dangerous, if not more likely, to turn over in your sleep and fall to your death. 

Climbing up to the hammock is all the more painful and terrifying than riding with Neteyam. He patiently trails behind, waiting and giving unwanted direction for your climb until you have finally cocooned yourself in the fabric. Still trembling but refusing to voice any complaints that could be mocked, you take a moment to catch your breath. 

That moment is exceedingly short.

The hammock suddenly swings and you look up to find the prince lowering himself down carefully from a branch above. 

“No no, absolutely not. This is my bed. Get out.” He chuckles as you try to push and swat at his muscular thighs but it’s no use when he is settled in the fabric a few seconds later. 

“Technically it is our bed.” 

“Then I will take my chances on the ground.” Your stomach somersaults at the thought of enduring the climb down. 

Comment ignored, Neteyam coaxes you to lay down before slipping himself behind you. You’re tempted to kick when he wraps an arm around your waist but the hammock is still swinging to a point of nausea. Best not to make it any worse. 

“You’re trembling, omega.” It’s murmured against the shell of your ear. There is no need to look down in order to confirm his assertion. How do the Omatikaya sleep peacefully up in the trees like this? You’ve never considered yourself to have a fear of heights but today has you questioning that assurance all together. 

“You look like you need someone to calm you down.” The palm of his right hand runs up and down the length of your arm, as if the transferring heat there would diminish your shivering. 

“What I need is a break from your pestering.” 

“I already gave you one.” His tale tickles at the back of your knee just as his accented voice deepens. “A break that I have still not received a thank you for.” 

“I wouldn’t hold your breath waiting, my prince.” You sneer. It wasn’t his decision to have you sit away from him during dinner. It was entirely your own and he is not about to receive acknowledgment as if he had any control over what you do. 

“I hope you know what you’re playing at, princess.” 

Those are the last words he speaks of the night and consequently the same ones that leave you restless and twitching. Sleeping like this is impossible. When you’re not worried about falling to your death you become acutely aware of every point of contact between you and Neteyam. His toned chest is like a bustling fire against your back. His tail at some point wraps around knee as if it belongs there. Even his silky ebony braids tickle at your neck, almost as bad as where his face tucks itself behind your ear. 

There is no forgetting who lays behind you. Sleep seems to never come because you are constantly trying to calm your raging heart and control the pheromones that threaten to slip into the air. That would wake him up far too easily. 

His breath is heavy, heartbeat consistent and strong from where it pounds against your back. You’ve been sure for a while now that he is fast asleep. Now is the time to make your move, but frozen you remain. Eventually you look down to find that your fingers have begun tracing the veins of his forearm as an anxious tick. 

Thank Eywa he seems to not wake up from the touch. Or perhaps it is the smooth caress that has coaxed him further into sleep. Either way, you hold very little hope of not only climbing down the trees without splitting your pretty head open but also doing so unnoticed. 

Sleep comes and goes along with the hours until waiting has wound you taunt. It is only a matter of time before the sun rises again and you’ve lost the window of opportunity. So with sweaty hands and a heart threatening to come up your throat, you cautiously slide yourself out from his hold. 

By some miracle it turns out that Neteyam is the deepest sleeper you have ever met, because even as the hammock sways from your climbing out, he simply lets out a sigh and turns his head further into the fabric. 

Scaling down the tree is a test in vigilance and patience. Every smooth breath you force yourself to take is a practice in these arts. Stubbornly you refuse to look down, knowing it will only bring forth nerve ridden mistakes. So with the pace of a snail you inch further and further down the trunk. 

You just need to make it to a pa’li.

That’s it. 

So close. So very close, you tell yourself, even as you know it’s a lie.

“What are you doing?”

Your breath catches in your throat, thighs tensing as you remember to still keep hold. Your muscles relax slightly, however, when you notice that the voice holds an Omatikaya accent but it is not Neteyam’s. The beta from dinner sits up in his hammock, eyes squinting at you through the darkness. Say the wrong thing and he is bound to sound the alarm. 

“You should not be out of bed.” He sighs. 

“I must relieve myself.” Biting your bottom lip you steer your features into confident defiance. “Or am I not allowed to do that too?”

The beta lets out a sigh and a curse you do not recognize. It must be part of the Sky People’s weird language. 

“Alright, I will assist you just wait for a moment.” 

“I don’t require an audience.” 

“But you do require supervision.” 

It’s difficult to argue when you remain clinging to a tree for dear life. So when the beta helps you make it down the tree foothold by foothold, there is nothing left in you to protest. Instead, you simply shift gears. 

“Be quick.” The male says, gesturing to a secluded spot behind thick bushes.

“It takes as long as it takes.” Head held high, you walk past him and into the bushes. Luckily the sounds of nocturnal creatures are loud enough to excuse why you are so silent in the bushes. Furthermore, it’s clear that male has at least some respect for your privacy as a woman when he doesn’t question again what takes you so long.

Those advantages aside, running now would still do you no good. He has steered the two of you further away from the pa’li and running on foot will only get you lost in this entanglement of greenery. And with a beta, one native to the area nonetheless, there is no chance of getting far. 

Lucky for you, there is always one sure fire way to disable a man without violence. 

“What did you say your name is again?” 

The beta straightens when you walk past him. 

“Um, I didn’t.” He picks up into a jog to catch up with your sudden retreat. Not a foot of space is granted between you two. He has grown suspicious. 

Shifting your long glossy hair over one shoulder, you look over at him with a subtle pout. “Well I don’t see how that’s fair. You know my name but I don’t know yours.” 

The beta doesn’t immediately melt at your softened composure like most males at home do. Rather he seems to clear his throat in discomfort before muttering out, “Ke’ve”

“Hm, Ke’ve.” You repeat back, as if savoring the taste of his name on your tongue. He’s nervous. No doubt, devoted to keeping his distance from the prince’s intended. There are ways to relax him, however. “Well Ke’ve, not every male is noble enough to lend his help in the middle of the night. You must know your presence has brought me great comfort out here.” 

His eyes scrunch but he doesn’t respond, perhaps unsure of what response would be safe. 

“You see,” With a sigh, you come to a halt. “I’m not very accustomed to feeling vulnerable. We are so far from home in a place I have never been but I still do not enjoy being seen as weak. So I wouldn’t admit this to anyone else but I feel as if I can trust you when I say,” You pause for dramatic effect and will tears to your eyes. “I’m scared.”

Were it an alpha, the essence of your fear would be enough to swoop you into their arms and make an oath of protection. Ke’ve on the other hand is a beta, so his response is more subtle. Yet just as promising when his expression falters and he looks on the verge of sighing again. 

“You are safe with us.” And as sure as the sun rises in the morning, so does that inevitable flash of concern spring forth. 

“I do feel safer with you.” Just a gentle brush of your fingers against his elbow. So subtle in wake of your shining vulnerability that he doesn’t shrug it off. “I can’t tell you how much that means to me.” 

A few stray pieces of hair fall over your cheek to frame your depiction of soft spoken innocence. You are perfectly poised like a flower ready to be picked, a delicate beauty that deserves to be protected at all costs. The same disposition that has had beta men falling at your feet time and time again. 

They are always enchanted by your demeanor. So much so that when the Olo’ekytan’s daughter suddenly spins the table so she is straddling their waist and taking control, they can’t help but hand the reins over. 

“Yes well you…you don’t need to worry.” Ke’ve’s eyes don’t hold the same snare that Neteyam’s do but you can already imagine how pretty they will look rolling to the back of his head when you have his cock in your mouth. Pleasure has a way of rendering a man defenseless, therefore giving you the perfect opportunity to carry out your plans. 

With the stealth and precision of a predator stalking its prey you snake your hand up his bicep and over one broad shoulder. Consequently it has your own face inching closer to his wrist where you sensually let his pulse point rub over your throat. It will leave the trace of his scent there, igniting a primal side of him that can be molded perfectly into your designs. “How can I repay you?” You ask, batting your lashes up at him as you begin the slow descent to your knees. 

But they never hit the ground. 

Sharp pain erupts along your scalp as a hand abruptly grabs a chunk of your hair at the roots. That hold is used to veer you back onto your feet and fall back against a warm chest. “I can think of a few ways.” 

Your carefully crafted composure shatters into a hiss as you try to recover from both the shock of being caught and the unforgiving grip Neteyam has in your hair. Even more so, the tingling sensation that brutal hold sends down your spine. 

“Ow! Let go!” 

“Tell the others I will be having a little talk with my omega.” Neteyam commands, ignoring your useless struggling. “You are dismissed, Ke’ve.” The beta doesn’t need to be told twice, already scurrying to get away. 

“Now let’s get you sorted out.” Still keeping his hand tangled where you try to dislodge it, Neteyam drags you further into the mysterious forest. You note that the distance, however, is not quite far enough to completely conceal your whining from the others. 

Feet stumbling once that hold is released, you find yourself unceremoniously deposited onto a large boulder. You can spot the cliff’s edge where it drops down into a waterfall and beyond is the rolling landscape of Pandora’s forest. The glimmer of eclipse is slowly shifting into the first ray of sunshine to cast over the horizon. 

“You just had to prove me right, tiyawn.” Neteyam tutts, squatting onto his haunches so that he is at your level. 

It takes considerable effort to get your brain back online and position yourself into a pose more flattering and fit for a princess. No male has ever handled you so roughly. They wouldn’t dare. But the sting of Neteyam’s tug on your scalp leaves a strange ache behind that has your mind reeling. Trying to put your confident mask back on, you fuss with your hair to get every strand back into place. 

“And you just had to act like a barbarian.”

“Did you really believe it was that easy to sneak away from me?” 

Your throat runs dry when you meet his eyes. This wasn’t a near successful escape, it was planned. One look at his face and it’s clear that he knew exactly when you left and exactly who was assigned to deter you. 

“Can’t a woman pee in peace?” You fumble out, making your last attempt at defending your story.

“I suppose not when it ends in you practically nuzzling at another man's tewng [loincloth] like a little slut.” 

Your jaw drops before you can stop it. Eyes ablaze and tail pointed on alert, you are tempted to throw caution to the wind and slap the alpha’s pretty face. No male, in fact no Na’vi, has ever used such a vulgar term to depict you. You’ve had your share of fun among the betas in your clan, but that makes you no less glittering of a gem. And certainly not a slut. 

“No man of honor would even think of using such a term, let alone directing it at me.” When you rise up to your full height, Neteyam stands in suit. “Is this why you asked for my hand? Any normal prince, especially the son of Toruk Makto, should have half the women in the clan begging to mate with him. But maybe even they could not see past your arrogant disrespectful bravado, so you had to travel to another clan entirely to find an unknowing prospect.” 

“Is that your theory?” Tone deceptively calm, the deep drag of his voice washes over you like silk. 

“You may think that you’ve conquered and can now return home with a pep in your step but no matter what you do, there will always be one truth that will haunt you.” 

You gulp down the lump in your throat when one of his long strides closes the distance between you. Regardless, you refuse to retreat. 

“And what truth is that, princess?”

Your wild eyes shoot to pierce through him. 

“That you chose wrong.” You let that statement hang in the air for a beat, hoping it will press down on him in the silence. However it is disappointment that lays a hold on you when his unreadable expression remains in place. 

“Is that so?”

He’s close enough to nearly feel the beat of his heart. 

“It may be your experience that omegas in your presence bow in submission and shudder beneath that charming grin, but I am not one of them. I am not subject to swooning for or baring my neck to any alpha. I am too independent for your tastes.” 

His chest vibrates with a deep chuckle, one that ironically holds no jovial warmth to it. Instead, paired with the sinful curve of his lips, it wraps thick tendrils around you that act as the calm before the storm. 

“You’re not independent, princess. You’re a spoiled brat.” 

He’s undeterred by your scoff or bat of your hands when he forcefully grasps your chin between two fingers. 

“When my father finds out what kind of man you-”

“Your father has done you a great disservice.” Two steps forward and Neteyam has successfully backed you up against the cool stone. “He has given you everything you’ve asked for, let you go entirely unchecked. We can place part of the blame on him for turning you into a spoiled little thing that thinks it only takes a bat of her lashes to get what she wants.” 

When your lips part to sneer a nasty comment at him, Neteyam swiftly presses his thumb over them. 

“It’s because of this spoiled attitude that you have not properly learned the pleasure of submitting to your nature.” He’s not trying to hide the shadow of his scent over you now, it circles you into a clouded dome. Leaning his head down, his lips just barely whisper against your own that are still trapped beneath his thumb. “You don’t understand the ecstasy of being tamed.” 

A warmth pools at the pit of your stomach. You recognize that feeling and what it means. Putting your desire to win this argument aside, it’s clear that now is the time to bow out before this escalates too far. 

“Get off.” At first it’s just a whisper. Then when Neteyam’s body remains curled over yours, rock hard and unmoving, your voice rises. “I said get off! You egotistical pervert!” Your cries don’t stop and neither does the useless rain of your fists against his chest. 

But then he is snatching your wrists and hooking a hand beneath your thigh to slide you up onto the rock. The stone is cold against your exposed back and ass, your tail becoming trapped beneath your own weight. Neteyam crushes all hope of sitting back up when he cages your smaller form with his own bulking frame. 

“Always have to make it difficult, don’t you, tiyawn?”

You fight the urge to squeeze the muscles beneath your captured hands when they land on his chest to push him away. 

“Maybe it wouldn’t be so difficult if you just got off of my ass for once.” 

“Oh but princess that is exactly where I want to be.” That devilish grin is accented by a ray of sunlight painting his features. 

Without an inch of personal space it becomes aggravatingly obvious how gorgeous the man above you is. Neteyam is the perfect contrast of broad shoulders and a slim waist shown off by his beautiful woven battle band. His immaculate braids swing down across his cheeks and collarbones to frame his intense eyes, sharp jawline, and lips that were simply made to do sinful things. 

 Your reflection is cut short when a band begins to wrap around your wrists. Squirm as you might, Neteyam holds no sympathy for your protests as he expertly ties the appendages together. Empty threats. Cries for help. None of them make an ounce of difference. 

“Scream as much as you want if you’re that eager to give the others a show.” 

That shuts you up in an instant. It confirms your earlier observation of proximity and immediately has you playing back the conversation to guess how much of it that other males have already heard. 

“You’re a monster.” 

“Hm, and all yours, princess.” A wicked grin across his lips, Neteyam secures your bound wrists to a low branch over the rock. You’re left stretched out and trapped laying across the boulder beneath him. 

That cocky expression blanches its color once he draws his nose along your neck. The exact spot you had tricked Ke’ve to scent you. Your heart hammers on its own accord when Neteyam’s wicked smile drops. Mere seconds ago nothing had seemed more appealing than ripping apart the alpha with the lash of your tongue, but now something in you warns to stay still. To stay quiet. 

“I was going to wait until we reached Vitraya Ramunong [tree of souls], in light of tradition.” His breath is hot against your neck, a heat that travels like lava down to your very core. “But it seems my little brat can’t wait that long.” 

His teeth sink in without warning. It takes a moment for the shock to fizzle out and allow you to feel the pain. Neteyam’s teeth bite and capture the soft flesh there without mercy before his lips suck a dark spot directly over where Ke’ve’s scent used to be. 

Your spine arches, hips already bucking without your consent. The only response to your screams and squirming is Neteyam’s own hips pressing you back against the stone. He is ravenous. Biting, sucking, and licking at that one spot until the area has become desensitized to his ministrations. 

Your body has spiked from zero to one hundred in a matter of seconds. Your head reels with the whiplash of having the male reprimand you one moment and the next sinking his teeth into a mark terrifyingly close to your mating gland. 

“Better.” Neteyam finally murmurs against your neck. He seals the mark with a deceptively tender kiss as you are left short circuiting. Your instincts flare, that primal part of your nature climbing out from under the rock you’ve kept it trapped beneath. 

“Are…are you insane? Biting that close-” 

“I won’t mark you there tonight, tiyawn. Want to be able to feel you through the bond when that happens.” A curved knuckle runs down your kuru, making your toes curl. “Once we are under the spirit tree together. There are still some traditions I’d like to keep.” He says with a grin that you could almost associate with a charming gentleman, not the same male that just savagely ravaged your throat like a predator of the night. 

“But we will need to find a way to get you to behave until then.” You can’t mirror the ease he feels as he speaks. It becomes clear now how dire your circumstances are. You had thought Neteyam wouldn’t dare to put a hand on you without permission but now he has proven to be more than willing to not only touch but leave marks behind. There is no telling where he draws the line. 

And you’re scared, just as you should be, but there is something else far more terrifying that plumps into your bloodstream. A dangerous intrigue that borders excitement. 

“How do you suggest we do that, princess?” 

No matter how hard you try, no humble response willingly bubbles to your lips. Neteyam is still an asshole, gorgeous or not. Alluring or not. No matter how tempting he may be, that doesn’t mean it’s worth exploring the mysterious punishment he has up his sleeve. And you…well you’re still pissed. 

“My behavior is nothing in comparison to yours. You-”

A hand comes down on the side of your ass hard enough to have you choking on those words. 

“You hit me!” Neteyam simply tilts his head at your accusation. 

“Good observation, tiyawn.” Not a hint of apology present. This man is not remorseful, he is proud. “If you keep running your mouth like that I will be forced to do it again. Knowing you, it won’t take long for me to tan that ass red.” 

Your father never spanked you as a child. It would break his heart to see his little girl cry the tears it would inevitably provoke. And with your dating experience exclusively being betas, no man has ever tried to right that wrong. Thinking of riding on a pa’li with a red ass now has fear jumbling threats past your lips haphazardly. 

“I swear on my-”

His right hand clamps over your mouth. The pressure is hard enough to have you whining beneath his skin. 

“That’s enough from you for now.” 

There is nothing left for you to do but watch. Body rendered immobile and now your last weapon at your disposal silenced, you are at the utter mercy of the prince. A mercy that does not appear to be afforded any time soon as his other hand trails down to start undoing the knots of your top. 

It shouldn’t be as scary as it is, watching string be string get unlooped as your crystal top begins to fall slack. However, this particular intimacy is one you are not accustomed to. 

It had started out as just a silly game you had played when you first started dating. Men were often foaming at the mouth to get a proper glimpse of your subtle breasts. It had been an immediate source of amusement as you’d seen how far they were willing to go for only a chance. And even more rewarding when you noticed how easy it was to never follow through with satisfying this desire. 

So it continued. It became somewhat common knowledge among your lovers, and any future interested prospects that you keep that part of yourself private. However, you hadn’t meant for it to go on as long as it did. Eventually you would cave to a worthy beta and watch him go feral, but that was before you discovered simply how sensitive your nipples are. It only took a few times of playing with yourself, brought on by your interest in nipple piercings, for you to see how vulnerable that area of you is. 

And now it is ironically Neteyam that uncovers that part of you.

He can sense the shift of your scent the moment it happens. With every tug on the feeble strings your essence takes on a darker hue. Pleasure and pain. Arousal and fear. These combinations are ones you have not been properly exposed to. Perhaps were it not for him, you would never have been humble enough to try them. 

The last undone tie allows the strung crystals to slide over the curve of your chest before dropping to the floor. What pretty little things you adorn yourself with, yet they do very little to protect you. Because it’s clear to him that in your eyes, protection is never needed. You can not fathom how much you have truly gotten away with.

Prancing around in your little outfits. Torturing men with what they want but can’t truly possess. Expecting the world to shift whatever way you desire with the wave of your hand. It’s laughable how you never imagined to face the consequences of such actions. 

You’re a haughty little thing just waiting to be put in your place. 

“My brat.” Neteyam smirks, leaning down to place a kiss at the slope between your breasts. Goosebumps ripple over your beautiful azure skin. It’s a visceral reaction to the smallest of his touches and it drives him near insanity. How perfect this pretty body of yours will be as a canvas for his marks. A vessel for his heir. 

Fuck, you are beautiful. 

Perhaps he can’t entirely blame you for being so arrogant. Your beauty is enough to hold a man captive with just a simple glance. And you’ve taken advantage of that far too many times. 

He allows himself to fall captive to it now. Unlike the others, he won’t need to starve after you once you’ve decided you’re done playing with him like a toy. No, you will be bound to him. You will belong to him completely. 

“So pretty.” He coos, his lips just barely painting over your right breast. When his bottom lip hover over your nipple he watches in awe as it hardens. “But you already know that, don’t you?” 

You’ve gone silent, but he can feel the stutter of your breath beneath his hand. It would be unfair to neglect the other side, so Neteyam takes his time showing your left breast the same gentle attention that has your other nipple following in suit. He’s heard of your reluctance to reveal such pretty breasts to your lovers, but he never imagined it would be due to such sensitivity. 

It’s like watching a flower bloom for him. The way you squirm and whine at even the drag of his eyes over your delectable form. Neteyam lets his hand slip from your mouth, no longer willing to explore only with his lips. 

His fingertips start a trail down by your navel and ascend up over your stomach and towards your chest at a slow pace. When he finally reaches to gently palm at your right breasts he feels your heartbeat pounding like a drum under his fingers. So many nights he has dreamed of touching you like this, rendering you utterly speechless before he has even started. Now as your lips part and breath becomes labored from his simple touches, there is no sight more delightful. 

You are perfect. You have an attitude that is in major need of fixing but even that is simply a beautiful challenge Eywa has created for him. The way you fit in his hands, gently massaging that supple flesh, it’s clear She crafted your body specifically for him too. 

The sun has finally breached the line of the horizon and now it sparkles along your chest in a dazzling show. The white crystals woven in your hair remind him of the halos worn by the angels his father has described. 

He applies more pressure with his right hand until the plump flesh is spilling between his fingers, giving him the perfect presentation for his salivating mouth. What starts out as an open mouthed kiss a few inches above your nipple quickly turns into sucking that flesh into his mouth until you are writhing. He groans at the sounds you make and when he pulls back to see the purple mark rising along your skin, the sight is enough to have him on the brink of purring in elation. 

Neteyam bends forward and starts crafting his brand on the other side so they are a matching set. This time he takes care in placing it further below your left nipple, at the crease where your stomach meets your chest. It will be difficult for you to find a top able to cover up this claim wrought by his teeth, a purposeful decision on his part. 

“Tey…mmm… teyam wait!” 

He grins at the cute nickname you’ve already coined for him, but that only buys you a few seconds before he is finally puckering his lips around one of your stiff points. The reaction is instantaneous, spine curving and a screech barreling up your throat. He doesn’t start off sucking too hard, instead just enjoys the way you feel in his mouth. Eventually, though, the whines you make are too decadent for him to resist making them ring louder. So he sucks harder at the little point and groans around the sensitive area so that it has vibrations shooting through you. 

“Finally being so good to me, tiyawn, aren’t you?” He says, taking a moment to release your nipple with an audible pop. “Laying yourself out for me to enjoy. I knew you could be a good girl.” 

You haven’t come to earn this praise yet, but it’s important to leave an alluring snippet that exhibits what could come if you only behave. As much as you may want to fight it, your nature won’t let you escape how good such praise feels. You are a stubborn woman but your body wants to submit to him. There is a part of you, no matter how deep you’ve buried it, that yearns to please your alpha. 

He snaps you back into the moment by softly closing his teeth around your left nipple. It takes a hand against your stomach to stop you from rolling onto your side and away from his soft torment. 

“It’s too sensitive! Stop!” Your pouted lips beg but your strengthening perfume gives your arousal away. Just as he figured, you’ve yet to experience how beautifully pleasure and pain intertwine. He rolls that bud sensually between his teeth before carefully giving it a tug. 

He alternates between tormenting your nipples and savoring the plush curve of your breasts with his hands and mouth. The skin is soft beneath his calloused palms. It has him wondering how it would feel to have that velvety skin squished around his cock and as he fucks your breasts. Neteyam swallows back the pooling saliva on his tongue, a string of it still connecting his lips to where he laid his last mark on your tits. It’s almost tempting enough to forgo his plans altogether and sate his lust driven curiosity, but Neteyam shakes it away.

The two of you will have plenty of time to experiment later. 

“Teyam, please no more. It’s too much!” Your pleas have died down in volume. Now they are coated with your labored breath as you try to control the pounding of your heart. 

“Too much, princess?” He questions and guides his hand down south to rest over your loincloth. “Or not enough?” When he cups your pussy through the fabric you roll up against him and chase whatever friction he is willing to give.  

It’s not nearly enough, he can tell from your disappointed expression when he pulls away entirely. Pupils blown wide and chest heaving to catch your breath, you remain silent as he reaches for the pouch attached to his tewng. 

Neteyam pulls out a line of woven crystals, much like the ones you wear in your hair but these were foraged from the caves near his home. There are fastens on either end of the chain that took far too much time for him to craft. 

“Is that for me?” Naturally you ask, that pretty face already showing how quick you are to forget what he was doing to you mere seconds ago once a shiny gift is presented. Neteyam fights the curve of his lips and keeps his every from rolling. Always so predictable.

“Just for you, princess.”

He had crafted it after his last visit to your village. Far before the Olangi clan thought the threat of Sky People was great enough to require protection but him and his father had been there to spread the news regardless. He knew before you even spoke that you thought the world was at your feet. Even the way you walked, spoke of a spoiled elegance. And when he had tried to sate his curiosity towards you with a conversation you were nothing but rude and spiteful towards him.

He knew then that you were going to be his, one or another. 

And so he started foraging for the crystals that first night back. 

“So pretty,” you murmur, voice airy. Those golden eyes narrow as you squint to look at it. Despite your current position and already wrecked voice, a sneaky little smirk forms over your lips. “But you miscounted. My hair is much longer than that.”

He lets you have your moment, watches as you grin up at him as if you have finally landed a critical blow. All for that to sizzle out when he bends down to whisper in your ear. 

“Who said anything about your hair?” 

The confused scrunch of your features doesn’t last long when he begins running the cool metal of the clamps up and down your right nipple. Nipple clamps are not a traditional erotic tool for the Na’vi so he’s certain you don’t believe your first instinct as to where that is going until he starts to pinch the right one to prepare it. 

“Neteyam, no! Get that away-” He clasps his other hand over your mouth again. Always the demands with you. Sooner than later you will learn that begging gets you a lot further with him. It’s a little trickier to prepare with only one hand available but Neteyam manages. 

The alpha plants a knee across your pelvis to keep you place while his right hand tugs at your nipples to confirm they are pointed enough to clamp onto. When the first clamp goes on your right nipple, your screeching goes up an octave. You know what to expect better when the left one is attached but that doesn’t diminish your reaction. 

Lovely little drama queen you are, the fit that follows is inevitable. He’s tested the clamps and consulted with several Sky People before deciding to use them on you so he knows there isn’t any real damage being done. Still, you are going to squirm and screech and, were it not for his hand, probably shout every insult you can think of at him, because you have never been punished like this. And your tantrums are what has worked for you in the past. 

He lets you fight it out as he holds you down. Neteyam doesn’t mind as it gives him time to admire his handy work. The chain of crystal connecting the clamps hang exquisitely between your curves. Those stiff points have turned a new shade of purple as they peek out between the clamp’s teeth. 

“Enough.” Neteyam finally quips back, tugging at the chain. A mix between a moan and groan rumbles from your throat. Once his hand has retreated he can hear the sound properly. Keeping his pointer finger curled around the crystal chain, the prince raises a warning brow at you. “Are you done throwing your fit?”

He watches your pupils dilate and lips curl into a pout.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like my gift?” 

“It hurts.” You whimper with a quivering bottom lip. It’s difficult to say how genuine the reaction is considering what a good little actress you are. 

He nods his head, mocking your pout with a feigned one upon his own lips. That only whips your stare into pointed daggers. 

“It’s supposed to, tiyawn. That’s why it is called punishment.” He kisses right above your left clamped nipple. “A term you may become very familiar with if you don’t fix your attitude.” 

Pulling back from where you glare, Neteyam settles himself beside you on his side. His left arm props against the rock to casually support his head while the right drags down your torso. The alpha’s ears perks at the little hiss you release when he just barely brushes the chain but he continues down south. 

Another time when the moon is still out he will kiss every little tanhi that dots your precious body until you cry for more. For now, he is only focused on one location. 

Neteyam can sense the heat of your core the second his fingertips slip beneath your loincloth’s waistband. You are soft and wet, just like he had imagined so many times. Flared nostrils greedily inhale your scent as he pauses to cup your entire pussy. Much like before, you can’t help but react to his touch. With a little more pressure in his firm hold, a trickle of wetness drops onto his palm. 

Fuck, you are inescapable!

You may believe he is to blame for this arrangement but the truth is you are the one that has trapped him since the moment he caught a whiff of your essence. It is him that has been utterly destroyed by his constant thoughts of you. 

“But I know that isn’t all there is to it, is there?” He continues, softly kissing your shoulder. “It’s not just pain you feel. There’s something else.” 

Your poor bottom lip has been utterly abused by your sharp teeth. Whatever sacrifice it takes for you to keep from admitting the truth to him. He discards your tewng with one hand. 

“A unique sense of-” He spreads your folds to suddenly massage your peeking clit with his pointer finger, stealing a gasp from you. “Pleasure.” Neteyam finishes with a grin. 

You turn to putty in his hands. The tension riddled along your muscles unravel as he rubs circles along your clit with just the right amount of pressure. When he clasps the chain between his teeth and tugs your eyes fly open, taking in your surroundings as if the pleasure has made you forget where you are entirely. 

“Can’t space out on me yet, princess. We still have more to discuss.” 

Talking appears to be the last thing on your mind, hips already rolling to hump against his hand. So close to the edge already that it causes a burst of pride to warm in his chest. Warm thighs bracket his hand as if afraid it will pull away at any moment. Smiling softly at the display, Neteyam smoothly covers your upper body with his own, nose to nose in a matter of seconds. 

There is nowhere for you to hide now, every microreaction bared for him. Those vibrant eyes remain locked on his own, but he catches the way they occasionally dart to his lips before returning. 

He doesn’t need to be told twice. 

Your lips against his are like decadent chocolate, the swirl of his tongue around your own is another burst of flavor he simply can not get enough of. And so the prince swirls the kiss into a languid roll of passion that leaves your lips ruby red and breaths coming out in puffs once he pulls away. 

His hand is drenched in your juices. So much so that when he switches to his thumb rubbing your clit and pointer finger tapping at your entrance, those soaking walls capture him at the first sign of intrusion. Your tight heat sucks in the first digit, pulsing around him greedily as your eyes roll back. 

Another tug to the chain and he has your attention again. 

“Let’s start with an easy question, tiyawn.” He starts. “What were you going to do to Ke’ve?”

Smart little thing that you are, or perhaps manipulative is a more accurate term, you act as if the pleasure has completely swept you away from understanding him. Beautiful little whimpers rumble in your throat and a look of pure lust crosses over your deceivingly innocent features. 

Neteyam isn’t willing to wait to see how you act your way out of this. 

His finger stops curling and thumb halts before his other hand pushes your thigh upward so that he can land a crackling spank to your ass. 

“Princess,” Neteyam drawls out in a mocking sing-song voice. “I’m running out of patience.”

The charade drops but your body trembles from the sudden lack of stimulation. 

“I was going to distract him.” It’s spoken so softly that his ears twitch and strain to make sure he hears you correctly. The finger inside of you restarts, curling up against your g spot while his thumb torments that bundle of nerves from the other side. 

“That’s a nice way of putting it.” He slots his face against the slope of your throat. The fragrance that is so uniquely you is especially strong here so there is no stopping the way his tongue naturally flicks out to draw a wet line from your collarbones to jaw. “Let me be more specific. How were you going to distract him?”

The context clues were clearly enough to put two and two together, but he still demands that you say it out loud. The first step to developing remorse is acknowledging what was done. 

When you take your time thinking up a strategic answer he cruelly pulls his finger out and jams a second one back with it on the thrust. Your toes curl and your face is turned to bury in your hair. 

“Princess.” 

No response, just a small whine as he scissor his long digits to stretch those velvet walls. 

“Were you going to suck his cock?” 

Your silence is rewarded with his hand stilling. The disappointment has your lips parting to no doubt say something far outside of a good girl’s vocabulary, but one raised brow has you falter in that decision. 

He twirls the middle of the chain around one finger so it is shortened and with each word he tugs it back sharply. 

“Were. You. Going. To. Suck. His. Cock.” 

“Ah mm Yes!” You gasp, eyes squeezed shut but pussy wildly pulsing around his fingers. 

“That’s what I thought.” He revels in the naive relief you exhibit when he begins his ministrations between your thighs again. How cute of you to think that a little truth would forgive your earlier sins. 

Neteyam prowls down your body, savoring the slide of your skin against his own until he is settled between your thighs that are now pushed over his shoulders and he has an unobstructed view of your greedy cunt. While diligently pushing you closer to an orgasm, the alpha takes special care to decide where his next visual claim will be laid. He decides on two spots. 

The first one is atop your upper thigh where it will be in clear view of anyone you come across and the second is harshly sucked into the sensitive flesh of your left inner thigh. 

“You will never walk upon Omatikay soil without my marks.” 

You don’t appear to hear him.

“Oh mm Neteyam…feels so good.” 

It might just be the first good thing you’ve said all day and his inner alpha purrs in deep satisfaction. Unfortunately for you, punishment comes before rewards. 

Retracting his hand entirely, Neteyam swipes the remnants of your sticky arousal over your inner thighs, painting his beautiful canvas. There is no time to complain at the loss before he is running the flat of his tongue from your convulsing pussy up over your clit and even navel. 

That wet muscle dances along and between your folds in practiced precision. Your essence tantalizes his very tastebuds until he is producing so much saliva that it is difficult to say how much of the wet mess at your apex is made from him versus you. He supposes in some ways he is responsible for both. 

The prince’s lips shine with the evidence when he pulls back to speak. 

“Do good girls do that?”

“Huh…what?” 

“Do good girls try to suck cocks that are not their alpha’s?” He reiterates, weaving a firm steel into his voice. 

“I…uh…no,” Comes your timid response. 

Those thick lashes flutter when he returns to feasting on your delicious cunt. It only lasts for a second, however, before he is speaking against the soft skin of your thighs. 

“That’s right, tiyawn. Good omegas know who they belong to.”

Your body jolts as if stung by lightning when his thumb rubs at your sensitive nub again. He can see it in your face now. His omega is just barely tipping on the edge of release. 

“So what do you think you should do about it?”

Breath borderline erratic the muscles in your legs tense in anticipation of that wonderful release. The same one that he roughly rips away when you don’t respond, not daring to even breath across your cunt. 

“No no please! I’m so close! Just a little longer. I wanna come!” 

“What do you think you should do about it?” Neteyam repeats, tampering down the smirk that threatens to cross his lips when he sees the way you whine and tugs at your bonds. 

“For…for what?” You’re so genuinely confused he has to hold back a coo at how adorable you look. 

“What do you think you should do to make up for trying to suck his cock?”

That little head of yours is working overtime to craft an intelligent response. It becomes all that much harder when he starts playing with your clit again, keeping you tantalizingly close to the edge but never over. 

“I…I could…I..”

“Yes?” Neteyam considers himself very patient but he is forced to halt his touch when you take too long to respond and get far too close to coming. 

“No wait! Why did you stop?” Your foot stomps against the rock like the spoiled brat that you are, so utterly confused and crestfallen at being denied for the first time. Has any male ever even tried to edge you? If your response is anything to go off of, it’s clear that he will be the first to teach you the joys of orgasm denial too. 

“Answer my question, oeyӓ tiyawn [my love].” 

Frustrated tears run from the corner of your eyes and this time Neteyam is positive they are genuine. Your little pout is broken by sharp teeth torturing your bottom lip again while you try to get a hold of yourself to respond properly. 

“I…I could suck your cock.” It comes out almost as a question but the prince is eager to take it. 

“There you go.” He hoists himself up to deposit a kiss on your lips before shrinking back down and continuing a very special kiss between your legs. Your pretty thighs immediately clamp around his head, shaking so hard he can feel the vibrations. As much as he wants to taste your release properly he can’t pass up the opportunity to see your face for the first time as you come.

So the alpha escapes the cage of your thighs and replaces his tongue with skilled fingers the fuck up into your pussy and play with that precious bundle of nerves. He kisses his way up your body, this time being mindful of the crystal chain, until he is nuzzling against your cheek. The woodsy essence of his own scent will integrate there, letting everyone know that you have been claimed. 

“Such a smart girl my omega is. So good for her alpha.” 

That is your undoing. Like a woven tapestry he watches you unravel into an explosion of pure ecstasy. All of this time you’ve denied yourself the wondrous caress of an alpha’s praise. It’s left you with no defenses once finally showered with his sweet words. Neteyam groans deeply beneath your whiny scream, savoring the way his hand is now properly drenched as he rides you through the orgasm. 

You don’t register when Neteyam pulls away. In fact your head is so high above the clouds that it’s only when your hands drop like a dead weight against the boulder that you realize Neteyam has cut your bonds. 

It feels as if the world is a hazy blur of color, everything so vibrant and wondrous as you come down from that high. Even the simple kisses Neteyam gives to each of your wrists feels like drinking sunshine. In fact it is so incredible that you instantly crave more. 

More of him. 

More of this electric pleasure.

Anything and everything that has brought you into such a happy state. 

However, when the prince comes to carefully help you off the boulder and back onto your feet, it’s suddenly clear what it will take to get another taste of cloud nine. And in this case, that means tasting him. 

Neteyam hardly needs to prompt you onto your knees. Whatever is brewing inside of you is now your new addiction and somehow being at eye level with his crotch has never seemed more appealing. Your alpha wants you to atone for your sins, perhaps then he will grant you another orgasm. Well if taking him down your throat is redemption then you are going to be good at this game. 

Past experience is the foundation of your confidence. 

Hands still shaking with aftershock, they fumble to get a hold of his tewng. You’re about to catch hold of the waistband and simply rip the fabric down when strong hands catch your wrists. You look up at him in bewilderment. What type of man stops a woman on her knees second before he is about to get his dick sucked?

“We’re not going to do this your way, princess. If you want to make it up to me then you will learn to follow my instructions.” 

In some ways it’s borderline insulting. What is wrong with the way you suck a male off? No man has ever complained. And if they did, how would Neteyam even know? He’s never experienced nor witnessed what you do. But of course as an alpha he must believe he knows best. 

Typical.

Those thoughts don’t bubble into words, however, because as much as you would like to prove how fucking fantastic you are all on your own, you don’t want it more than another orgasm. Preferably by the means of his skilled tongue.

When he drops your wrists you shift uncomfortably, both impatience and the tight press of the clamps around your nipples creates the undeniable need to squirm. All while Neteyam simply watches you from above, perfectly calm and entertained by your position. 

That is until you go to shift the clamps and your wrists are immediately snagged again. 

“Did I say you could touch that?” He asks, that smooth voice taking on a smoky edge. Just when you are about to pout, however, Neteyam pulls your hands to place them along his upper thighs. You don’t need to be told twice. Running your hands along the smooth skin and squeezing the corded muscle there is a nice enough distraction to silence your objections. 

That is, until a new distraction presents itself. 

His long fingers carefully start to undo the ties of his tewng. Done at such a leisured pace it’s obvious he is determined to torture you, even pausing at one point to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before finally lets the cloth fall away. 

Excitement quickly mingles with apprehension when you see what you are faced with. 

Beta males have always satisfied you with their size, just enough to make you choke a little and hit that special spot inside of you. However, you’ve forgotten entirely what it means to be with an alpha. Neteyam’s cock curves up against his lower abs, fully hard and already sporting a drop of precum. But even the thought of fitting your mouth around that bulbous head, let alone trying to get the massive length down your throat makes your ears begin to twitch. 

All confidence quickly drains from your face. 

“Are you ready to listen now?” 

Finally peeling your gaze away from his twitching cock, you look up at him to see him staring down at you with the same intensity. 

“Yes.” You whisper, suddenly grateful for promised instruction now that you’ve been properly thrown for a loop. Perhaps you should have branched out to fucking with alphas at least once, just to know the difference properly. Because now you feel like a proper virgin waiting for their first lesson on giving a blow job. 

Surprisingly there is one feeling that rises higher than your trepidation.

Curiosity. 

Somehow the challenge before you sparks a further interest. A need to map out every part of his body until it has become less mysterious. Until it feels familiar beneath your hands.

And as if Neteyam can read your thoughts, he says, “You can explore now, tiyawn. Take your time.” 

Take your time. Not the direction you would expect from a male whose cock is fully hard and jerking against his lower stomach. You had thought all alphas to be forceful, wanting to claim and fuck in a quick and dirty fashion. But Neteyam stays true to his word when your hands slowly travel up his thighs. 

You are given more than enough time to familiarize yourself with the area. You start small, running the pads of your fingers down his muscular abdomen to feel each and every muscle there. Then once a little bit of confidence has been regained they come to rest around his base. 

The dark blue shade of his skin elegantly bleeds into a beautiful purple the closer to the tip it goes. All to then end on a subdued shade of pink along his head and balls. Even without the moonlight you can make out the small tanhi that dot along his skin. They lead along the side, creating a trail beside the thick vein lacing the underside of this cock before fanning out around the tip. As if they were perfectly crafted to entice your eyes towards the prize. 

Neteyam’s tail lashes the first time you run your fingers over him. His arousal is an essence that infiltrates the very air around you like a thick cloud. Surely he must be anxious for you to hurry up, but the prince keeps his body strictly in place for your exploration. 

It is only when he catches your tongue swiping over your bottom lip that he speaks up. 

“You can use your tongue, tiyawn.” With an inaudible gasp you pull back in surprise, practically forgetting he was there. An amused grin shows off his pearly white teeth, never faltering as you hesitate for a moment. “Are you feeling shy, princess?” 

“No.” You bite back even as your stomach does a somersault. 

“Remember, I will guide you. No need to stress.” His fingers run through your scalp and in spite of how good that feels you rear back and glare at him. 

You don’t need help. And you sure as hell are not shy. So what if you are a little caught off guard? That does not give him the right to treat you like an omega virgin ripe for the picking. 

So you draw forward and boldly draw the flat of your tongue slowly from the base to tip. Much like he had done between your own thighs. Because much like him, you are not afraid and you are not one to hand the reins over easily. 

What you do not anticipate is how the taste of him blossoms over your tastebuds. It sends a thrill through you that is difficult to conceal as you go in for another taste. It gets sloppy very quickly. The moment you try to take the head into your mouth, your nerves get the better of you and that ends up making you draw back. 

Just in time as Neteyam slots a hand in your dark locks and grabs hold of the roots. “Why are you rushing, omega?” 

“I am not.” 

“Follow my directions. No need to prove yourself.” He says, but he already wears a crooked smirk. 

It continues like this back and forth until you are finally tired of having your head yanked back by your hair so you wait for his instructions. Neteyam is meticulous in the way he has you explore, the way he forces you to taste him before even giving you the chance to take him into your mouth. 

But when you do finally take in the first few inches your inner omega springs forth without reserve. You feel every ridge and vein of his cock as they slip past your outstretched lips. And that stretch, that utterly deniable feeling of being stretched full, is what has you drawing in for more. 

Before now being on your knees has always felt like a place of power. You’ve riddle men down to whimpering messes just by the skilled trace of your tongue. You’ve swallowed everything they’ve had to give while they’ve sung curses to the sky. It is them that is rendered entirely insatiable as you hold their pleasure in the palm of your hand. 

It doesn’t feel that way now. 

It’s hard to determine what he awakens within you but every time you are pulled off of his cock and told to take a moment to breathe, it is you that feels insatiable. You figured it would get better once Neteyam fell deep enough into his own ecstasy but somehow the evidence of his pleasure only escalates your own addiction. You can never get enough of him. 

Never will you tire of seeing his magnificent neck on display when he throws his head back with a rumbled groan. Never will you suck down the taste of him enough to satisfy your carnal desires. And never will there be a more magnificent feeling than the wash of his praise over you as your throat contracts and you gags around him. 

It is him that leaves you ravenous. 

“All the way down now, princess. That’s it, you can take it.” 

You’d take just about anything this man says at gospel at this point. A fact that is evident by the way you no longer hesitate to sheath him down your throat when commanded. And when those sinfully gorgeous hips start to move, you fight every need for breath and simply let him fuck your throat without complaint. 

In fact it is you that complains when you are given a chance to breathe, tears streaking down your face and drool coating your chin. 

“No whining.” Neteyam tsks, wagging a finger playfully. It would normally piss you off but now it only registers as the absence of praise. So when he continues to the pattern, moaning and bucking his hips only to pull off seconds later, you bite back the urge to cry and beg for his cum. “Just get me wet, princess. Tongue out. There you go.” 

It makes no sense, but then again that seems to be the theme when it comes to Neteyam. He demands you suck him off only to deny you the pleasure of feeling him shoot down your throat. Your pretty face is nothing but a mess of tears and spit when he finally rears you back for the last time. For a moment it seems possible he will jerk himself off and finish across your face or pinched nipples but his next direction has your tail tucking. 

“There’s my good girl. Now stand up for me.” 

“Neteyam.” You whine but he is quick to grab hold of that crystal chain and force you to your feet as your nipples ache. 

“Are you still wet for me, omega? Spread your legs.” He slides a hand between your thighs to inspect the evidence of just how aroused you truly are. “Very good girl.” He grins against your ear, as if he didn’t already know how desperate he has made you. 

It’s only a second of attention to your clit before he is taking your hand and dragging you through the forest. 

Neteyam has always been known for being meticulous. Or in Lo’ak’s words, obsessive. He has lived his life with a plan and great attention to detail. So when he has you following him, your hand in his own, he can’t help but look for the perfect spot to take you. The ideal place where he can admire you spread out for him and finally experience what it is to be inside of that sweet little body. 

He’s pleased to find you put up no fuss when he coerces you onto your stomach with your face down and ass up. In fact, your spine curves as you look back at him, a seductive gleam in your eyes that says you are still not above playing games to get what you want. 

“M’ready.” You sigh against the grass, tail curling upwards to give him access. It may as well be the equivalent of snapping your fingers in a fetching command. Regardless, Neteyam decides to let you off this time, especially when you are creating the most gorgeous display for him. 

Your pussy clenches around open air, your cunt an absolute mess that has dripped down between your thighs. There is no mistaking what you want. 

But that doesn’t mean that is what you’re going to get. 

You don’t immediately react when he uses both hands to knead and spread your plump cheeks apart, but when he begins to push a finger at your tightest hole, you squeak and draw back. With a stern hand gripping your hip he pulls you back against him where he kneels. Tentatively you trust him once more only to squirm when he only sticks his fingers into your pussy in order to collect your slick arousal and spread it between your cheeks. 

“Neteyam!”

“Mawey, princess. You’ll like it, I promise.” And you will, despite your better judgment. 

“No, not there!” Were it not for the hazy glow he has you in now you surely would claw his eyes out for even suggesting such a thing but with his thumb reaching down to rub at your sensitive clit, your defenses are greatly weakened. 

“And why not, tiyawn?”

“I want you to fuck me.” You drawl with a whine. 

“And I am.” Neteyam slinks up so his chest is pressed against your back, pushing away your hair so he can whisper in your ear. “I am going to fuck my spoiled brat until the only words she can manage to utter are thank you and my name.”

You sputter at his sensual words, pussy trying to clamp around the finger that swirls through your juices. 

“But that’s…t-that’s not what I mean.” 

“Are you nervous, tiyawn?”

“N-no.”

“No male has ever tried to stretch this little hole before, have they?” 

You simply attempt to tuck your face away from him as it turns a lovely shade of red. Neteyam grins and kisses your cheek. 

“I am going to take every first you have left, princess. I will fuck all of your holes over and over again, including this naughty little hole.” A shudder ripples through your trapped frame. “Your greedy pussy too but the first time I do that we will bonded beneath Vitraya Ramunong so until then…” He grips your hip to keep you in place when his lubed finger finally starts pushing past that clenching rim.

“Breathe oeyӓ tiyawn.” He hushes your whines. It takes considerable effort to coax you into relaxing for him but Neteyam finds that the right amount of praise and gentle kisses seems to get the job done. 

Fuck, you are so incredibly tight! It feels as if you are trying to cut off the circulation in his fingers as he adds another. His heart races at those pulsing walls around his cock. You do nothing to aid his patience as little pants filtering from your lips and soon your eyes are fluttering closed. 

You won’t want to admit it, but this new pleasure has you entirely hooked. A strange sensation no doubt, and even uncomfortable at times he can tell as you struggle to take a third finger but so too do you eventually start pushing your hips back against the intrusion. 

Holding you in place is no longer required, allowing his other hand to slip to the front of your body and resume strumming your clit. Grass becomes intertwined with the sparkling crystals in your hair due to the way you keep turning your head to whine and squirm. 

“I wish you could see how perfect you look like this. Sweet little ass sucking in my fingers like it was made for this. I knew I’d see you like this someday, my pretty brat learning to behave.”

“F-fuck you.” You sputter.

Neteyam can’t even find it within himself to be mad when you are clenching around him like this. He’ll take care of that naughty mouth soon, but for now he is content to focus on making your body fully submit to him. 

“As you wish, omega.” 

The prince pulls his fingers out and makes sure to spread more of your natural lube over his cock. He feels like he could bust any moment just looking at your hole clenching at the loss. The gleam in your eyes when he lines the head of his cock up to your tightest hole gives him all the information he needs to know. 

“Teyam!” You gasp just before his head makes it past the entrance. 

“Doing so good for me, omega. Stay nice and relaxed.”

“It’s not going to fit.” The protest is greatly undermined by the way your pussy leaks juices down your thigh. 

“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll make it fit.” 

And true to his word, Neteyam patiently rears forward and rubs sinful circles over your clit until his pelvis is cushioned by your plush ass. 

“Oh my Eywa!” You quiver, thighs no longer doing the work to keep you up. 

“What was it you said about getting off your ass?”

“You fucking…Oh…asshole.” Your insults are barely tangible as he begins with shallow thrusts. “Oh my…oh…aahh.”

“Different than you thought, isn’t it?” He smirks, but even he has to close his eyes and take a moment to breathe. Your walls cinch around him so tightly it feels as if you're trying to strangle his cock. Even his shallow thrusts take considerable effort, even more difficult not to prematurely fill you with his seed every time those gummy walls pulse. “Deep breathes. Let yourself enjoy it.” 

“M-more.”

His ears perk, wondering if he has misheard you.

“What was-”

“More! Move now! Move fucking now I swear-” The air is punched from your lungs when he harshly rears back to the tip before plunging himself all the way inside again. The noise that escapes you is one he has never heard before and he knows for a fact that it rings loud enough through the trees for the others to detect. 

Grasping a handful of hair he pulls you up onto your knees so that your back is flush against his chest. From this vantage point he can see the crystal chain sparkling in the sunlight. 

“Is that any way to ask for what you want?” He rumbles against your ear. 

The sound of clapping skin echoes through the forest as you eagerly push yourself back against his now brutal pace. 

“Teyamteyamteyam,” Comes your endless spew, head thrown back against his shoulder. He’s too lost in his own ecstasy to chew you out for not answering his question. Instead he roughly manhandles you off of his cock and pushes you to lay down on your back. 

“But-”

Legs thrown around his waist he sinks back inside to the hilt. “You need to learn some fucking patience, princess.”

“I’m sorryyyyy!” You drawl but those little hands are already grasp at his biceps, demanding that he slots himself closer. Looking down he swears he can practically see his cock moving in your stomach. 

“How are these pretty tits doing, hm?” Swooping down, he leaves sloppy kisses around your secured nipples, groaning when your fingers claws at his hair to pull him closer. “Tell me the truth now, princess. Tell me how much you love me my cock in your ass.” 

He knows you're far gone when a response comes back without any fight. “I love..ngh..ah…I love your cock in my ass. Don’t stop, alpha. Pleasepleaseplease.” 

“Take a breath for me.” He commands softly and the second you comply he undoes both claps in tandem. In some ways he has heard that taking them off is more painful than putting them on. If that is true, you must have a secret love for such pain because you bare down on him so hard that it takes everything within him not to bust inside of you. 

“Fuck!” You curse, yanking him down impossibly closer. “Neteyam!” 

“Good girl, princess. My good girl.” He murmurs between sloppy kisses laid on your chest. He licks gently over your pointed nipples in efforts to soothe them. 

Neteyam’s own patience is quickly unraveling but he wants to come in time with you. He wants you to squirt across him as he paints your walls white. So with his own breaths coming out in pants and hips ricketing at a desperate speed, he reaches between you and assaults that little bundle of nerves. 

“Come on, brat. Do as you're told for once and come for me.” 

You steal the very air from his lungs. Your silky walls milk him dry as you come around him. Stars dot his vision and his abdomen flexes at the pure pressure of his own release. He spills himself inside of you as your nails dig into his shoulder blades. 

When he finally does come down from that high, your grip won’t release. His name is a whispered mantra on your lips as you pull his heavy body atop of yours. He falls without resistance, crushing you beneath him. 

You’re overwhelmed. It makes him both proud and spiteful that no other male has truly managed to get you into this floaty state before. From the way you claw at him as if he is the very oxygen you rely on, it’s clear you don’t know how to handle such new intense emotions. To think you’ve gone so many years without truly satisfying your omega. 

“I’ve got you, omega. Your alpha’s here.” He tries to prop himself up on an elbow to relieve some of his body weight from you, but that has your panic rising. With an endless draw of sweet nothings he presses himself back down just in time for your lips to demand his. 

That anxiety gradually smoothes away the longer he indulges the impromptu makeout session. When his tongue swirls around yours, your movements become more leisurely. Even the very nature of the kiss becomes lazy while you softly play with his neat braids. 

“Teyam…”

“Yes princess?” He checks to make sure your breathing has finally turned back to normal after pulling away. 

“I’m ready to sleep.” You say as a matter of fact. 

“No tiyawn we still-” It’s too late. Chest somehow managing to rise and fall beneath his weight and eyes fluttered closed, you are dead to the world. Very typical fashion for you to simply state your wants as reality without waiting for any protests. 

He rolls his eyes fondly before carefully situating both of you onto your sides. His legs feel like thin vines walloping in the wind. Neteyam has to hold back a groan when he finally manages to slip out of you. Bathing in the sunlight with you tucked against his side, he allows himself one moment to recover and bask in the feeling. 

And when that moment is gone, he does everything in his power to dress and clean up both of you without disturbing your slumber. Your hair is still tangled and the echoing screams are sure to be enough evidence of what has happened between you two but when he walks out carrying you bridal style, he playfully glares at the other males who are anxious to make their teasing comments. They will beat him up about it later, for now it is important that you sleep. 

With narrowed eyes and a hiss he demands their silence before he situates you in front of him on the pa’li. Facing sideways on the horse you snuggle closer in your sleep, body shivering. You only wake for a second so that he can slip his thick poncho over the both of you. This way you are kept warm and eyes are shielded from the sun as you sleep.

“Well?” Tak’nal, his second in command, asks with a raised brow. 

“Problem solved.” Neteyam says simply. “Let’s go home.”

Writing this felt like a fever dream😂🫠 Please don't be shy, let me know what you think😚💗

Unofficial Taglist: @pandoraslxna @ikeyniofthetayrangi @plantgirliewholovespandora @nakedinthetrees

[theonottsbxtch]

MY PEACE | MV1

an: this was a request from a lovely first time requester ( @pinkinternetstarlight )i had so much fun with this except i probably went about this differently than was expected maybe? i don’t know but i hope everyone enjoys it

wc: 1.9k

THE MONACO SKYLINE GLITTERED outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of Max’s apartment, but the man inside couldn’t see it. Not really. He was slumped on the sofa, his head buried in his hands, elbows resting on his knees, still dressed in the sweat-soaked polo and race trousers he hadn’t bothered to peel off since getting home. The hollow thrum of the media circus still echoed in his ears—reporters’ voices, headlines dissecting every moment of his race, every mistake, every edge of aggression they couldn’t wait to sharpen into a weapon.

The living room was dim, the only light a faint glow from the kitchen where she stood, stacking plates from his barely-touched dinner into the dishwasher. He hadn’t asked her to come over; he never had to. She just… knew. She always knew.

She moved with quiet purpose, tying her hair back with a loose band, sleeves rolled up as she made her way around his space—tidying up the chaos he left in his wake. To anyone else, it might have seemed like she was cleaning for the sake of it, but he recognised it for what it was: her way of looking after him, of making sure that when the noise of the world threatened to cave him in, the corners of his life she touched felt a little less sharp.

He glanced up when she wandered back into the room, her bare feet soft against the wooden floor, carrying a folded blanket. She sat beside him without a word, the way she always did, close enough that her shoulder brushed his. Without asking, she unfolded the blanket and draped it over his lap, tucking it in just so.

His breath hitched—he didn’t mean it to, but there it was, like a crack in a dam he spent his whole life patching up. He turned his head slightly, enough to catch the faint scent of her perfume, and for the first time all day, the ache behind his ribs quietened.

“You don’t have to do this,” he murmured, his voice hoarse.

She turned to him, one corner of her mouth lifting in a small, knowing smile. “I know I don’t.”

He let his head fall back, tipping to the side until it came to rest against her lap. His body felt too heavy to hold up anymore, but here—here was lightness. Her fingers slid through his hair, slow and deliberate, untangling the knots the day had left behind.

The monster inside him, the one he kept chained under the weight of the world’s expectations, fell silent.

“Dinner’s in the fridge for tomorrow,” she said softly. “And I’ll stay the night if you want.”

He shut his eyes. He wanted to say he didn’t deserve this—didn’t deserve her—but the words wouldn’t come. All he managed was a nod, and when she leaned back against the cushions, her hands still in his hair, he let himself breathe.

The silence between them stretched on, but it wasn’t heavy. It was soft, the kind that let him loosen the grip on his thoughts, if only a little. He stared at the darkened skyline, the city lights casting faint patterns on the walls, and tried not to get lost in his head. But it was a losing battle. It always was.

The thought crept in before he could stop it. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve her.

The words sounded like his own, but the voice behind them wasn’t. It was his father’s, sharp and clipped, laced with that same cold disdain that had haunted his childhood. His dad had always seen her as a weakness, a threat to his focus and discipline. How many times had he warned Max about letting anyone get too close? About “wasting energy” on things that didn’t matter?

And yet, here she was, the only person who’d stayed. The only one who’d made it through the wreckage of his life without turning away.

Her hand was still in his hair, her fingers slow and soothing, but he could feel the faint shift of her breathing as she glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Max,” she said softly, her voice cutting through the noise in his head. “You’ve got a flight tomorrow morning. You should shower and get some sleep.”

He opened his eyes, the weight of the day still pressing down on him, and turned to look at her. “I’ll sleep on the plane,” he mumbled, though he didn’t move.

“Shower first,” she said, firm but kind. “You’ll feel better.”

He didn’t argue. He never could, not with her. With a quiet sigh, he sat up, the blanket slipping to the floor, and dragged himself to his feet. The thought of standing under hot water—letting it wash away the grease and grime and whatever else the day had left on him—wasn’t as bad as he let on.

By the time he stepped into the shower, he could hear her moving about in the kitchen again. He let the water beat against his skin, his hands braced against the tiled wall as the heat loosened the tension in his shoulders. Still, his mind wouldn’t stop replaying the same loop: his dad’s voice, the doubt, the sense of never being enough.

When he finally emerged, towel slung around his waist, the smell of something warm and sweet drifted through the apartment. He found her in the bedroom, already curled up against the pillows, a mug of hot chocolate in her hands. On the bedside table sat another mug—tea, the way she always made it for him, a perfect balance of strong and soothing.

She didn’t look up as he walked in, her nose buried in a book, the soft glow of the bedside lamp making the room feel impossibly safe.

He took the mug and sat on the other side of the bed, cradling it in his hands as the steam curled up around his face. For a while, they didn’t speak. She kept reading, and he let himself lean back against the headboard, the warmth of the tea spreading through him.

It wasn’t until he was ready—until the words that had been choking him all day finally loosened—that he spoke.

“They hate me,” he said quietly, his voice barely more than a rasp.

She looked up from her book, closing it without a hint of impatience, and turned her full attention to him. “Who?”

“Everyone,” he said. “The media. The fans. Hell, even Checo, sometimes.” He laughed bitterly. “They don’t even know me, but they’ve already decided I’m the villain. And the worst part is… I think they’re right.”

Her brows knitted together, and she set her mug down on the table. “Max,” she said, her voice steady, her gaze unflinching, “you’re not a villain.”

He shook his head, staring into his tea. “I don’t know how you can say that. You’ve seen it—how I am on the track, how I am off it. I push people away, I—” He stopped, the words catching in his throat.

“You’re human,” she said simply. “You’re not perfect, but no one is. And everything they say about you? That’s noise. It’s not who you are.”

His hands tightened around the mug, and he looked at her, his expression raw, like he was seeing her for the first time.

“You don’t have to stay, you know,” he said, his voice breaking. “You could’ve left a long time ago. Sometimes I think you should’ve.”

She held his gaze, her eyes calm but fierce. “And sometimes I think you forget that I get to make my own choices,” she said softly. “I’m here because I want to be, Max. Not because I feel sorry for you. Not because you owe me anything. Just because you’re you.”

The weight in his chest shifted, just a fraction, but enough. He didn’t know how to respond to that—not yet—but when she picked up her book again, leaning against his shoulder as if nothing had changed, he let himself close his eyes and breathe.

For tonight, it was enough.

The tea was long forgotten on the bedside table, the room quiet save for the faint rustle of her turning a page and the soft hum of the city beyond the windows. Max shifted under the duvet, his body still heavy with exhaustion, but the ache behind his ribs had eased, just enough to let him breathe.

She lay beside him, her book propped against her knees, the light from the lamp catching the soft curve of her face. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, trying to ignore the pang of something sharp and unfamiliar blooming in his chest. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt it, but tonight it seemed impossible to ignore.

He adjusted his pillow and turned on his side, facing her. “You’re going to read all night, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice low, teasing.

She glanced at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Not if you need to sleep.”

“I always need sleep is what you say, no?.”

She laughed softly, her head tipping to the side as she closed her book, slipping it onto the nightstand. “Alright, I’m done.” She reached over and turned off the lamp, plunging the room into comfortable darkness.

He shifted closer instinctively, the warmth of her presence drawing him in. They’d done this a hundred times before—falling asleep in the same bed, his arm slung over her waist or her head tucked against his chest—but tonight felt different. The space between them was charged with something unspoken, a tension he didn’t have the courage to name.

She settled into the pillows, her back facing him, and he hesitated for a moment before closing the distance. His arm slid around her waist, pulling her closer, and she melted into him without a second thought.

“Goodnight, Max,” she murmured, her voice soft and drowsy.

He rested his chin lightly against the top of her head, inhaling the familiar scent of her shampoo. “Goodnight,” he said, though his mind was far from quiet.

The weight of the day, the weight of everything, seemed to dissipate as he held her. She didn’t demand anything of him, didn’t ask him to explain himself or prove that he was more than what the world saw. She just… was. And somehow, that was enough to quiet the storm inside him.

His eyes fluttered shut, the warmth of her body lulling him into something close to peace. And before he could stop himself, the words slipped out, barely more than a whisper, lost to the dark.

“I love you.”

She didn’t stir. Didn’t react.

For a moment, panic flared in his chest—what if she’d heard him? What if she didn’t feel the same? But as her breathing deepened, slow and steady in the quiet of the room, he realised she was already asleep.

Relief swept over him, and he tightened his hold on her just a fraction, burying his face in her hair. It was better this way, he told himself. She didn’t need to know. He didn’t need to ruin what they had, didn’t need to drag her into the mess of his life any more than she already was.

For tonight, it was enough to hold her. To let the monster in him fall silent, just for a little while.

And as sleep finally pulled him under, he couldn’t help but hope—just a little—that maybe someday, he’d find the courage to say it again.

the end.

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby

[elryuse]

ISLAND Pt. 3 Yuna ft Ryujin & Chaeryeong

ITZY X MALE READER

Tags : Foursome?, Lots of Kissing, Seduction, Creampie,Multiple Orgasm, Edging, Creampie

The hotel suite was bathed in soft, golden light from the setting sun, casting long shadows across the plush carpet. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, sex, and the faint sweetness of body wash from earlier. Y/n lay sprawled on the massive bed, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. To his left, Ryujin nestled into his side, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin. Chaeryeong curled up on his right, her head resting on his shoulder, her breathing slow and steady. The trio had spent the better part of the day exploring each other’s bodies, their passion leaving them drained but satisfied.

But rest was short-lived.

The sound of the door creaking open broke the silence. Yuna stepped inside, her eyes widening as she took in the scene before her. “Oh my god!” she squeaked, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. She clutched her towel tighter around her body, clearly having just come from the shower. Her hair dripped water onto the floor, and she froze like a deer caught in headlights. “I-I didn’t mean to—”

Ryujin smirked, propping herself up on one elbow. “Relax, Yuna. You’re not interrupting anything… yet.” Her voice was teasing, laced with mischief that made Yuna’s face burn even hotter. Chaeryeong giggled softly, her fingers twirling Y/n’s hair absentmindedly as she glanced at Yuna with an amused expression.

Y/n sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Yuna, it’s fine. We’re just… relaxing,” he said, though the way his hand lingered on Chaeryeong’s thigh suggested otherwise. His tone was calm, reassuring, but there was a flicker of something darker in his eyes—something that made Yuna’s stomach twist in a way she couldn’t quite understand.

Yuna bit her lip, shifting uncomfortably under the weight of their gazes. “I-I should go…” she stammered, turning toward the door.

“Wait,” Ryujin called out, her voice firm but playful. She stood up, letting the sheet fall away from her body as she padded over to Yuna. The younger girl’s eyes dropped instinctively, taking in Ryujin’s naked form before quickly looking away. Ryujin chuckled, reaching out to gently grip Yuna’s wrist. “You don’t have to be shy, you know. It’s just us.”

Yuna swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. “I-I don’t think I can—”

“Trust me,” Ryujin interrupted, her voice soft but insistent. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against Yuna’s ear. “It feels amazing. And Y/n… well, he knows how to make it feel even better.”

Yuna’s legs felt like jelly as Ryujin guided her toward the bed. She glanced at Y/n, who gave her a small, encouraging smile. Something about the way he looked at her—gentle yet predatory—made her pulse quicken. Chaeryeong shifted to make room, patting the space beside her. “Come on, Yuna. Don’t be scared,” she said, her voice sweet and coaxing.

Yuna hesitated for a moment longer before finally climbing onto the bed, her movements stiff and uncertain. Ryujin followed suit, positioning herself behind Yuna and placing her hands on the younger girl’s shoulders. “Just relax,” she murmured, her lips brushing against Yuna’s neck. “Let us take care of you.”

Y/n watched with growing anticipation as Ryujin began to undress Yuna, peeling away the towel to reveal her smooth, delicate skin. He reached out, his fingers grazing Yuna’s cheek before tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice low and husky. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a tender kiss that quickly deepened as Yuna responded hesitantly at first, then with increasing urgency.

Chaeryeong watched with a sly smile, crawling over to Yuna’s side. She ran her fingers through the younger girl’s damp hair, her touch soothing yet electrifying. “Don’t worry, Yuna,” she cooed, her lips brushing against Yuna’s ear. “We’ll make sure you enjoy every second.”

Ryujin’s hands slid down Yuna’s sides, her touch feather-light as she explored every curve. She pressed kisses along Yuna’s shoulder, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin just enough to elicit a shiver. “Tell us if it feels good,” Ryujin murmured, her voice dripping with honeyed promise.

Yuna gasped as Y/n’s hands joined the fray, his fingers dancing across her thighs before dipping between her legs. She was already wet, her body betraying her nervousness with a slick heat that made her moan softly. “Ah… W-what are you doing?” she whimpered, her voice trembling.

“Making you feel good,” Y/n replied simply, his voice rough with desire. He kissed her again, swallowing her moans as his fingers worked her with practiced precision. Chaeryeong’s hands wandered lower, cupping Yuna’s breasts and rolling her nipples between her fingers. The sensation was overwhelming, and Yuna’s head fell back against Ryujin’s shoulder as pleasure surged through her.

Ryujin grinned, her hands slipping down to grip Yuna’s hips. “Ready?” she asked, her tone playful but expectant. When Yuna nodded weakly, Ryujin positioned herself behind her, guiding Yuna’s hips to align with Y/n’s waiting cock. “Just breathe,” Ryujin instructed, her voice softening. “It’ll feel amazing, I promise.”

Yuna tensed as Y/n pushed into her, the stretch sending a wave of both pain and pleasure coursing through her. She clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as she adjusted to the unfamiliar sensation. “O-oh…” she moaned, her voice shaky but filled with wonder. “It’s… so big…”

Y/n groaned, his grip tightening on her hips as he began to move. Each thrust sent sparks through Yuna’s body, and soon she was writhing beneath him, her moans growing louder and more desperate. Ryujin watched with hungry eyes, her own need growing unbearable. She pressed against Y/n’s back, her lips trailing hot kisses across his shoulders as her hands roamed his chest.

Chaeryeong, not wanting to be left out, moved to kneel beside Yuna, her fingers finding the younger girl’s clit. She rubbed in tight circles, adding another layer of stimulation that made Yuna cry out. “F-fuck… oh god…” Yuna gasped, her hips bucking wildly as pleasure overwhelmed her senses.

Ryujin smirked, her hands sliding down to grip Y/n’s ass, urging him to go faster, deeper. “Make her scream,” she growled in his ear, her breath hot and demanding. Y/n obeyed, his thrusts becoming sharper, more forceful. Yuna’s moans turned into screams as she teetered on the edge of orgasm, her body trembling with the effort to hold on.

And then she shattered.

Her walls clenched around Y/n, pulling him over the edge with her. He groaned, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself inside her, filling her with his warmth. Yuna collapsed against him, her body going limp as waves of pleasure washed over her. Ryujin and Chaeryeong exchanged satisfied smiles, their own desires still burning bright.

As Yuna struggled to catch her breath, Ryujin leaned in, her lips brushing against the younger girl’s ear. “Told you it would feel amazing,” she purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

Yuna could only nod weakly, her mind still hazy with pleasure. But as she glanced up at Y/n, a spark of curiosity ignited in her eyes. “Can we… do it again?”

The room was quiet for a moment, save for the soft sound of Yuna’s breathing as she clung to Y/n, her cheeks flushed and her eyes still glazed over with pleasure. Ryujin and Chaeryeong exchanged knowing glances, their lips curling into playful smirks. They could see the hunger in Yuna’s eyes, the way she trembled against Y/n’s body, desperate for more.

Ryujin leaned back against the bed, running a hand through her tousled hair. ”You really liked it, huh?” she teased, her voice low and sultry. Yuna didn’t answer right away, her fingers lightly tracing patterns on Y/n’s chest as if trying to memorize the feel of him. Her heart was pounding, her mind racing with thoughts of what had just happened—and what she wanted to happen next.

Finally, she looked up at Ryujin, her voice barely above a whisper. “Can you… leave us alone for a bit? I want to try it… just the two of us.”

Ryujin raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. She glanced at Chaeryeong, who was already standing up, stretching her arms lazily. “Fine by me,” Chaeryeong said, her tone light but her eyes gleaming with mischief. “I could use a shower anyway.”

Ryujin stood up as well, brushing herself off before giving Yuna a playful wink. “Don’t wear him out too much, okay? Save some for us later.” She turned to Y/n, her gaze lingering just long enough to make his pulse quicken. Then, with a flick of her hair, she followed Chaeryeong out of the room, leaving Y/n and Yuna alone.

The door clicked shut, and suddenly the air felt heavier, more charged. Yuna shifted nervously, her small hands still resting on Y/n’s chest. She couldn’t quite bring herself to meet his eyes, her shyness getting the better of her now that they were alone.

“Y/n…” she began softly, her voice trembling slightly. “I… I want to do it again. But this time… just us.”

Y/n reached up, gently cupping her cheek and tilting her face so she would look at him. His touch was warm, reassuring, and it made something inside her flutter. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice husky but gentle. “We don’t have to rush anything. You can take your time.”

But Yuna shook her head, her determination outweighing her hesitation. “No… I want this. I want you.” Her words were bold, and they sent a jolt of heat straight through him. He could feel the way her body pressed against his, how her breath hitched when his thumb brushed over her lower lip.

He didn’t need any more convincing. With a slow, deliberate motion, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a deep, searing kiss. Yuna gasped softly into his mouth, her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair as she kissed him back eagerly. Her inexperience was evident in the way she moved, but there was a raw intensity to her actions that drove him wild.

His hands roamed over her body, exploring every curve, every inch of her soft skin. She shivered under his touch, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps as he trailed kisses down her neck, nipping lightly at her sensitive flesh. When his fingers grazed the waistband of her shorts, she tensed slightly, but then she nodded, her eyes locked on his with a mixture of trust and desire.

Y/n took his time undressing her, savoring the way her body trembled with anticipation. He worshipped her with his hands and his mouth, making her squirm and whimper as he discovered just how responsive she was. By the time he finally slipped her panties down her legs, she was already wet, her arousal unmistakable.

“Y/n…” she moaned, her hips lifting instinctively toward him. “Please… I need you.”

He groaned softly, his own desire threatening to overwhelm him. He positioned himself between her legs, his cock throbbing as he pressed against her entrance. “Tell me if it’s too much, okay?” he murmured, his voice rough with restraint.

Yuna nodded, her nails digging into his shoulders as he pushed inside her slowly, giving her time to adjust. The sensation was overwhelming—the tight heat of her around him, the way her walls fluttered as she tried to accommodate his size. He paused when he was fully sheathed inside her, giving her a moment to catch her breath.

“How does it feel?” he asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

Yuna blinked up at him, her lips parted as she panted. “It’s… it’s amazing,” she whispered, her voice filled with awe. “You’re so big… I can feel all of you…”

Her words sent a surge of heat through him, and he couldn’t wait any longer. He began to move, rocking his hips in slow, deliberate thrusts that had her gasping and arching beneath him. Her hands clutched at his back, pulling him closer as she lost herself in the rhythm of their bodies moving together.

Y/n wasn’t sure how long they lasted, but every second felt like heaven. The way Yuna tightened around him, the way her soft moans filled the room—it was intoxicating. He found himself kissing her again, deeper this time, their tongues tangling as their movements grew more frenzied.

“Y/n… I-I think I’m going to…” Yuna managed to gasp out, her voice breaking mid-sentence as a wave of pleasure crashed over her. Her body clenched around him, drawing a groan from his lips as he felt her climax ripple through her.

He followed soon after, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself inside her, filling her with his warmth. Yuna whimpered, her body trembling as the aftershocks of her orgasm left her boneless and breathless.

They stayed like that for a while, tangled together in the afterglow. Yuna’s fingers traced lazy patterns on his back, her head resting against his chest as she listened to the steady beat of his heart. “That was…” she began, but then she trailed off, unable to find the words to describe how she felt.

Y/n chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Yeah. It was.”

But even as they lay there, Yuna’s curiosity began to stir again. She tilted her head back, her eyes meeting his with a pleading look. “Can we… do it again?”

Yuna’s question hung in the air, her voice soft but laced with a newfound confidence. Y/n couldn’t help but smile at her eagerness, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from her flushed face. “Again?” he teased, his voice low and playful. “You sure you can handle it?”

She pouted, her lips forming into a small, adorable frown that only made her more irresistible. “I’m not a kid anymore,” she protested, her hands pressing against his chest as she shifted to sit up slightly. The movement caused her thighs to brush against his still-sensitive skin, sending a shiver through both of them. “I want to try something… different this time.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her boldness. “Different how?” he asked, his voice dropping lower as his hands slid down to rest on her hips, his touch firm but gentle.

Yuna bit her lip, her cheeks flushing even deeper as she hesitated for a moment. Then, with a breathless laugh, she pushed herself up fully, straddling him in one fluid motion. Her hands pressed against his chest for balance as she looked down at him, her eyes sparkling with a mix of nervousness and determination. “I want to be on top this time.”

The words sent a jolt of heat straight to Y/n’s core. He hadn’t expected her to take charge so soon, but the way she looked right now—her hair slightly disheveled, her lips swollen from their kisses, and her body glowing with a thin sheen of sweat—was enough to make him forget any hesitation. “Okay,” he said simply, his voice rough with desire. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Yuna giggled nervously, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest as she adjusted her position. She bit her lip again, glancing down between them where his hardness pressed against her thigh. “I might need… some help,” she admitted shyly.

Y/n smirked, his hands moving to grip her hips firmly. “Like this?” he asked, guiding her gently until she was positioned just right. His tip brushed against her entrance, and they both let out shaky breaths at the contact. “Now,” he murmured, his voice thick with anticipation, “just take your time.”

Yuna nodded, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly as she slowly lowered herself onto him. The sensation was overwhelming—both for her and for Y/n. She gasped softly, her nails digging into his skin, while he groaned, his hands tightening on her hips to steady her. “Fuck, Yuna…” he breathed, his head falling back against the pillow as she sank down inch by agonizing inch.

When she finally took him all the way, they both paused, letting the intensity of the moment wash over them. Yuna’s eyes were wide, her lips parted as she tried to catch her breath. “Oh my god,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “It feels so… deep like this.”

Y/n chuckled darkly, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on her hips. “You’re doing amazing,” he assured her, his voice strained. “Now move, baby. Go at your own pace.”

Yuna nodded again, her hands sliding down to rest on his chest as she tentatively began to rock her hips. The slow, deliberate movements made her whimper, her eyelids fluttering as pleasure built within her. “It’s… it’s better than I thought,” she admitted breathlessly, her rhythm gradually becoming more confident.

Y/n watched her with rapt attention, his hands roaming over her body as she moved above him. “You look so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist before sliding up to cup her breasts. She gasped, arching into his touch as her movements became more erratic.

Soon, Yuna found herself losing control, her hips grinding down harder and faster as the tension coiled tighter inside her. “Y/n, I—I think I’m going to—” she started, but her words dissolved into a moan as her orgasm hit her suddenly and intensely. Her body trembled, her walls clenching around him as waves of pleasure washed over her.

Y/n groaned, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he thrust up into her, unable to hold back any longer. “Fuck, Yuna, I’m close too,” he rasped, his movements becoming frantic as he chased his own release.

She whimpered, her hands clutching at his chest as she felt him pulse inside her, filling her once again with his warmth. The sensation sent another shockwave through her body, prolonging her climax until she collapsed forward, her forehead resting against his chest as they both struggled to catch their breath.

For a few moments, the only sounds in the room were their ragged breathing and the faint creak of the bed beneath them. Then, Yuna lifted her head, her lips curling into a satisfied smile. “That was…” she began, but trailed off, shaking her head slightly. “Amazing. Just… amazing.”

Y/n chuckled, his hands stroking her back gently. “You’re a natural,” he teased, pressing a kiss to her forehead. But before he could say anything else, Yuna sat up again, her expression growing mischievous.

“Let’s do it again,” she said, her voice dripping with excitement. “But… slower this time. I want to feel everything.”

Y/n grinned, his hands trailing down to grip her thighs. “Your wish is my command,” he replied, pulling her down for a searing kiss as they prepared to lose themselves in each other once more.

[navluvr]

𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄, 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 [e.williams]

pairing ellie williams x fem!reader (exes to lovers)

synopsis when you father hires your ex to be his farmhand, you're left with less and less self control as the days pass, always keeping an eye on the aurburn-haired girl that had stolen your heart years ago

warnings kinda shitty pacing bc i was rushing to get this out, ooc!ellie (maybe idk), not edited very well, heavy kissing, mentions of alcohol

wc 2.7k

note i've had this in the works for over a year now and was originally supposed to publish this on my old blog but oh well...anyway alexa play 'save a horse (ride a cowboy)' by big & rich

the weather was unforgiving.

scorching sun rays beat down on the farm, baking the golden dead grass and drying out the small creek on the outskirts of the perimeter. it was rather unusual for a jackson summer. and it did nothing but inflate your attraction toward the woman who currently hauled large hay bales into the barn.

dressed in a pair of low-rise jorts, her typical high-top converse, and a cream wife-beater, ellie wiped sweat from her forehead with a scowl, face twisted in the bright light. the rise of her arm lifted her shirt, exposing a sliver of the toned abdomen she hid most days. as she caught your eye, spotting you peeking at her from behind the book you were trying to busy yourself with, she sent a cheeky smile, enjoying the way you scurried to cover your face with the novel.

you preoccupied yourself on the back porch, trying and failing to focus on the words that swam on the page of your book. the wicket lounge chair was stiff and the towel under you itched your back, rubbing against the skin that wasn’t covered by the skimpy bikini you had chosen to wear in favor of the hot weather. yet it wasn’t the weather that made you flush and squirm restlessly, your focus settled elsewhere.

“what’re you readin’?”

brows shooting to your hairline, you glanced up at ellie, who had approached without you realizing.

she licked her chapped lips in anticipation, silhouette blocking out the sun.

shaking your head, you sat up straight. “nothing good, to be honest,” you said, avoiding her heavy gaze by flipping the novel over and pretending to look over the back.

she nodded, peeling off the carhartt gloves she wore. reaching for the iced lemonade on the small table next to you, she said before drinking, “so then it’s not one of the smutty books that you enjoy. got it.”

you coughed at her words, choking on your own saliva with widened eyes. perhaps i misheard her, you thought immediately, swallowing down more sputters and croaking out a rough, “what?”

ellie peered at you with a look of amusement. she was certain she had been clear, but that didn’t stop her from repeating her point. “the books you like to read. they’re all just smut. is this one not?”

heart thumping against your ribcage, you gulped. “no.”

even to you it sounded like a shitty lie.

“‘no’…?” she drawled, eyebrows raising with skepticism.

“they’re not all smut, ellie,” you told her defensively, face scrunching as you stiffened on the chair.

the woman in front of you looked mildly unconvinced, but she shrugged regardless. “whatever you say, babe.” 

growing uninterested in the novel you were reading thanks to ellie, you set it on the small table beside the chair and watched the woman as she chugged the rest of her drink. “don’t you think it’s a little…inappropriate to call me that?”

ellie set down her glass, fisting her gloves in a hand before crossing her arms above her chest. for a split second you could see a glimpse of the woman you used to call your girlfriend. that is until she fucked you over and confessed that she thought she had feelings to dina. now look at her—single and working as a farmhand on your father’s farm. call it karma or fate, you didn’t know, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like her reappearance in your life.

“no,” she started, her eyes gleaming with defiance, “i don’t think it’s inappropriate. i call everyone that.”

there was no hiding the clear confusion on your face as you sat up and said, “no, you definitely don’t. pet names were never really your thing, els.”

“well, maybe i’ve changed. we haven’t seen each other in awhile, you know. a lot can happen.” her words sounded indolent, showing no effort to be convincing.

scoffing, you rolled your eyes and swung your legs over the edge of the chair. “whatever. i’m going inside, it’s too hot out here.”

“you going to the party tonight?” ellie asked abruptly, her indifferent facade shedding like old skin. “the one being held in the dancehall?”

you gripped the edge of the furniture, angling your head to look up at her. she wants me to go, you realized quickly. that desperate expression of hers made it quite obvious. “of course i’m going.”

it wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t the truth. you hadn’t intended on going until she said something.

at your response, she nodded, beginning to put her gloves back on. “i guess i’ll see you there then.”

“i suppose so.”

she arrived at your door at 7 p.m. sharp.

and, hell, she looked sharp.

the way her brown button up-flannel molded perfectly with her lean figure, faded jeans accentuating the acute curve of her hips, the stressed ends brushing against the dark brown of her cowboy boots. you were practically drooling at her exposed forearms, long sleeves rolled to her elbows. and, of course, the cherry on top had to be the black cowboy hat decorating the crown of her head, shading her face from the sinking sun behind her.

you mentally cursed your father for hiring ellie williams. 

“what’re you doing here?” you asked keenly, adjusting your stance in the doorway.

she looked at you as if you had said something in another language, trying (and failing) to not look down at the small top and pajama shorts you wore . “i’m here to pick you up. figured you wouldn’t want to go to the party alone.”

you stared at her for a moment. she was right, of course. parties had never really been your idea of fun. the only time you ever went was when one of your friends could talk you into going. “come in, then. i need to finish getting dressed; shouldn’t take too long.”

ellie stepped inside cautiously, gingerly removing her hat and placing it on a nearby hook, like she was waiting for you to change your mind about the whole thing. but you didn’t, only shutting the door behind her and gesturing for her to follow you up the steps and into your bedroom. somewhere she had been oh-so-many times before the breakup.

the arid air was filled with tension, so thick that a knife would have to roughly saw its way through just to slice it.

you played off your uncomfort by sitting at your vanity calmly (definitely not forgetting that ellie had built this piece of furniture for you as a present for a past birthday), and grabbed the already-open tinted lip balm. the tin was cool in your palm as you dipped your finger in and then applied the sweet salve to your puckered mouth.

ellie watched from afar, unsure of where she should be as she waited, not wanting to break a boundary. if there even were boundaries to be broken.

she watched you diligently, eyes never leaving your mouth. she couldn’t help but gulp when you turned to her expectantly, asking her, “do i look fine?”

“you look as party-ready as you’ll ever be.” what she really wanted to say was, you look better than ‘fine.’ you always have, though she held her tongue reluctantly.

you gave her a curt nod, somewhat disappointed by her dry-ass remark. whatever. you’d mess with her later, after you’ve had a few drinks perhaps.

so, dropping the lip product into a drawer, you stood, pushing the stool back under the vanity before walking over to your wardrobe. the faded red wood had once gleamed when golden hour would come around, but with time its shine had dulled and the cabinet doors squeaked.

with a heavy breath, you sighed and pulled the round handles, exposing a plethora of clothes. as your eyes scanned your dresses, an idea sparked in your mind. you looked over your shoulder, finding ellie’s neutral gaze. “come pick out something for me to wear.”

her eyebrows flickered upward, slightly startled by your request. “but wouldn’t that be-”

“be what?” you interrupted, feigning a confused expression. “i’m just asking you to pick out a dress for me.”

the corners of ellie’s mouth turned south, and you ignored her when she muttered, “you didn’t ask, you demanded.”

you stepped out of her way, giving her the space to go through her options. however you didn’t miss the way she licked her lips, once again glancing at your pajama-clad figure before turning her attention to the open wardrobe.

the room was quiet, energy shifting ever so slightly from awkward to familiar. tension changing into something a little more…enticing as you waited for her decision regarding your outfit.

there was no hiding your smile when she pulled out a plain black mini dress with thin spaghetti straps, its neckline low. ellie had fucked you in that dress way too many times to count; it aroused something low in your stomach.

“good choice,” you teased, grabbing the article of clothing from her.

her expression heeded no hint as to what she was feeling, but with many years spent by her side, you had some idea of her internal gay panic. she could only hide it so well around the people who knew her best.

you placed the dress on your bed before dropping your pajama shorts to the floor, provoking a sharp inhale from the auburn-haired woman behind you.

“what the hell?!” ellie immediately seethed, her eyes averting your body as she spun to face your wardrobe.

you scoffed before ridding yourself of your shirt as well, suddenly feeling even more pleased with yourself for not wearing a bralette. “oh please, you’ve seen my body too many times to count.” rolling your eyes, you grabbed the dress and slipped it on, thankful for the absent zipper that was often prominent in similar pieces.

ellie eventually gave in and turned around, vaguely relieved to see that you now had something covering your body. she was unsure of what she would have done had you stayed undressed for an extended amount of time, her hands itching to run their familiar course on your bare figure.

“are you done staring?�� you asked her ardently, adjusting the fabric of the dress as you narrowed your gaze at her.

“yes.” her answer was clipped, yet you didn’t say anything further. she was determined to avoid your jarring gaze.

you raised your chin slightly, observing her for a split second. her hands fisted and flexed by her sides, although she was definitely trying to hide it. she was dying for makeup sex just as you were. however there was no way you were going to let her know that, at least not right now. you wanted to manage to get out of the house first: wanted to see if her nerves would die out and be replaced with the cockiness she sported like armor.

“let’s go then,” you finally said, “don’t want to keep people waiting.”

ellie nodded curtly, making no fuss as she followed you out of the room and down the flight of stairs, her boots clacking with each step.

when you reached the bottom, you reached for your own set of boots by the door, their cream color worn with each wear. you pulled them on as ellie grabbed her hat, opened the door for you, and dramatically held her arm out.

unable to hide an amused grin, you linked your elbow with hers, letting her guide you out of the house and to shimmer, who grazed on a plot of grass by the front porch. as ellie untied the reins and pulled herself up, you watched the way her body moved fluidly and adjusted her person on the western-style saddle.

she offered her hand, lips pulling into a charming smile. “come on, sweet girl.”

trying to suppress your grin, you grabbed her hand and placed your foot in a stirrup, a little too eager for the feel of ellie’s strong back against your front.

“just sit and look pretty, i’ll be right back.”

ellie had left to go grab drinks from the bar almost the second the two of you had entered the dancehall. and you were thankful, unsure that you’d be able to keep up your teasing facade without a little bit of something in your system.

when you spotted her, two red cups in hand, you exhaled heavily, muttering a ‘thanks’ and taking your drink. you didn’t waste any time before downing the brown liquid that burned all the way down your throat.

“hey, take it easy, baby,” ellie remarked, concern etching her features. she eased the cup from your hands, her eyebrows furrowed with faint worry. “there’s plenty of time to get drunk; no need to rush.”

as you swallowed the last bit of booze-flavored saliva on your tongue, you shifted ineptly. there went your attempt to spur your courage. great.

“ellie,” you said cautiously, eyes glued to the cluster of bodies on the dance floor and trying to ignore the way your breath was growing uneven. you toyed with the locket around your neck, mustering what bravery you had hidden.

“yes?”

“i think coming here, together, was a bad idea.”

your words had struck something in the woman next to you, and you watched from your peripheral as she tried to understand your statement. ellie looked wounded. a simple ‘why?’ was all she could manage to convene, the cups in her hands crinkling ever so slightly.

gaze finally sliding to meet hers, you said, “because all i’ve wanted to do since you showed up at my doorstep was kiss you.”

there was no telling where you had gotten the balls to say something so blunt, but boy did it feel good. you had missed ellie a lot, and you somehow managed to miss her even more the day your father had hired her as his farmhand. maybe it was because, while she had appeared in your life once more (after nearly a year of her staying in jackson), she wasn’t in your life; you were lucky if a conversation flowed between your awkward persons, still trying to make out what you were to one another. 

“fuck,” ellie drawled, turning her back to the crowd. she shoved the drinks onto a nearby table, her stature tense. “you can’t just say things like that.”

you bit the inside of your cheek, moving closer to her. “why not?” your voice was unintentionally low.

ellie’s eyes, blazing like green fire, found yours. she turned to face you, hot breath mingling with yours as you exhaled in anticipation of her words.

“because it makes me want to do more than just kiss you.”

without thinking, you grabbed the front two belt loops of her jeans, not wasting a moment to second guess anything, and pulled her front against yours, lips instantly crashing with hers. as you fervently kissed ellie, her hands settling on your love handles, you hummed in satisfaction. this is exactly what you wanted—and you had wanted it from the moment she started working on your family’s farm.

ellie’s mouth moved against yours, just as desperate as you felt. when she pulled away, her breath heavy, she muttered, “let’s take this somewhere else.”

you nodded, dazedly staring at her lips before she grabbed your hand and turned, leading you both through the maze of people. your thoughts were muddled in your mind, too entranced by the situation to notice that she had led you, hurriedly at that, to the bathroom. she pushed open the door, ushering you inside, with a hand on the curve of your spine.

before you could even utter a word, some chippy remark you’d already forgotten, ellie was on you.

“was this your plan all along?” she asked, her breath fanning over the skin of your jawline, body caging you against the counter of the sink. “to mess with me until i snapped and gave in?”

swallowing thickly, consumed by the feeling of ellie’s hands and mouth, you let out a strained whine. your fingers found the strands of hair at her nape, tugging as if to answer her question. yes, obviously.

a guttural sound left her throat at your wordless response, her fingers trailing down, searching for the place she knew you wanted her most. but just as she dipped her hand under the hem of your panties, your skin hot under her touch, she leaned in, lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

“you’re going to have to earn whatever it is you want.”

© navluvr 2024 | do not repost, republish, steal, or translate !!

[prael]

Not Quite Home

Kinktember Day 15: Stand & Carry

Kepler Youngeun x male reader smut

words: 1,495 Kinktember Masterlist

She is everything you're not. Everything you hate. How can someone refuse to have a place to call home?

All this about being a free spirit and experiencing everything that the world has to offer all sounds well and good but how is a tree supposed to grow if it has no roots? But Youngeun insists that is exactly what she is after, the constant thrill, the constant novelty, the rush and urgency. In every interaction, she seems to have been in search of the next big adventure.

And you think you do her a disservice by not understanding.

Perhaps if you had met each other under other circumstances, things might have gone better for the two of you. But now, you resent how she feels like a stranger whenever you're together. She once brought an element of excitement and risk to a routine, drab life, but that grew exhausting and more than once made you feel like you were suffocating. You grew to loathe her carelessness.

"Your parents?" You ask as she stands in your bedroom for the third night in a row, "Have you even told them you're back in town?"

She shakes her head in lieu of an answer, "You know how they are."

"You're going to blame them for wanting their daughter to visit for once?"

Youngeun laughs. It's one of your least favourite traits—her incapability to take anything seriously. "Not your business. Besides, seven nights, remember?"

Yes. Seven nights. This is what she told you, another expiry date on another chapter of whatever the fuck this is between you. Another unspoken contract was signed for the hell of it. A time limit, for something that isn't even real.

"Just think about it," you continue, hopelessly, "talking with your family. It'll clear your mind."

"Know what clears my mind? The wind in my hair, sun on my skin, music in my ears," Youngeun runs her hand through her silky hair, "Landing in some new town, finding a new local hang out to try something exotic and then exploring whatever is hidden in that town's history, picking up a new person, hooking up with them, letting the excitement course through my veins, knowing there's always something else waiting on the horizon."

Another insufferable thing that she does. It's been maybe fifteen minutes since you tangled limbs in the bed and now she's standing across the room naked making no secret of the fact that she picks up guys and girls wherever she goes. Youngeun looks down at you on the mattress and runs her eyes up and down your body, her fingers resting lightly over her collarbone.

You follow the line of her fingers, nails cut short with traces of peeled black nail paint. A callus on her finger is a reminder of how often she played the guitar. She runs them down her chest, thumb catching a nipple in the process of doing so.

"Look at you. You get hotter every time I come back." And just like that, Youngeun drops a compliment, casual and effortless and you question who's benefiting from this relationship because it clearly isn't you.

You're gonna fuck her again tonight. Tomorrow too, and another three nights after that. After which she'll be gone for another six months to a year. There's a weird emotional emptiness to this routine—you give and she takes and this is all she asks.

"Come here, will you? Pin me to this wall already. Make me feel you." Her hand cups her breast and another traces its way down her abs, a clear intention.

You should hate her, really. Like how you hate the idea that she left home for no reason or how she wasted her potential, hate her for her indifference, for her recklessness and her cold detachment, or hate the fact that it's just meaningless sex. 

She doesn't like strings, it makes no sense to her how people commit. If she was the type of person who asked to be understood, you would probably try to, but that's never something she ever expressed. 

For all of that, you don't hate her. It's why you're still walking towards her and she's backing up into the wall.

So, what does she ask for? Her answer is pleasure and pain.

She kisses like a raging fire. Everywhere her hands roam leaves marks on your skin; she scratches deep in your back as you hook her thigh up around your waist. A hand between her legs, sliding in without any sort of preamble. She's still dripping wet, though some of that may well be your last load. She tastes of salty, sweaty sex and you relish it. She kisses and she gasps as your fingers work at her entrance; crooking them upward so you can press them into her and rub right against the sensitive spot inside her.

Her tongue slides past yours, hot and wet as she grinds up into your hand, claws digging into your lower back. Your hand fucks into her roughly with reckless abandon and her breathing gets shallow as your fingers bring her closer and closer.

It doesn't take long, she's close, you know that when she throws her head back against the wall. "Stop—wait, fuck—wait," Youngeun barely gasps and then with your name in her throat, the friction of your fingers sends her over the edge. A moan escapes as her mouth falls open, eyes clamp shut as you finger her to orgasm.

It's always been easy to make Youngeun cum, but it never loses its magic. There's something particularly thrilling to the way she moans your name in that honey-laced rasp, to the way her entire body arches upwards as the pleasure mounts. A sharp gasp cuts the air.

Her limbs slacken. She leans her head against the wall. She's struggling to catch her breath.

And this is the fucking problem. For every reason to hate her, there are so many more reasons to enjoy her.

That's when you lift her, hooking up the other thigh and holding her by her tight little ass. Youngeun hisses and she's staring daggers and that's always a part of the fun. She'll give you these looks that could kill a lesser man, but you know the only solution is to pound her into submission.

"Be rough with me. Hard," Youngeun pants, sucking air in, breath ragged. Her skin's hot to the touch.

"Like last time?" Your voice comes low, thick and gruff as you hook her legs higher.

"No, harder, faster," Youngeun replies between rapid, short breaths, she grips your arms, rolls her hips and wraps her body tighter around you, "Want me to stay? Fuck me until I can't walk out."

You're incensed and sliding your length over her slick, warm, inviting heat, before slamming her back into the wall, entering her in one long hard motion and enjoying the way her lips fall apart; enjoying the way her hot and messy, fucked-out body arches upward as you hit deeper and the way her cries pitch. You don't even wait for her to catch her breath before snapping your hips over and over and giving Youngeun exactly the type of pounding that she wants.

There's a sharp gasp. A second of silence and then a choked-back scream. You feel a palm on the nape of your neck and a sting on your shoulders as her nails dig deep and scratch. She rakes them over the broad expanse of your upper back and it fucking hurts. It fucking stings and it's delicious. You bury yourself deep inside her, stretch and fuck her all open on your dick.

"Like that. Yes! Like that! Fucking ruin me."

"Since you asked so nicely."

Her moans become a struggle now that you've run a hand roughly up her body and planted it around her neck. Squeezing, not too hard, not to cut her airflow, not to bruise, but firmly enough that she will feel it and feel that she is being held. She loves to feel hopeless. And there, that's what you like: her hot, sweaty body locked between you and the wall and helpless against you as you sink into her.

And as much as she says it doesn't mean anything. Youngeun cries out your name like it means something.

The ever-familiar suffocating grip of her wet cunt grips you as she cums again. Bodies flushed together, grinding and sweaty.

"I can't breathe—" Youngeun whimpers in that cracked, vulnerable and submissive way and you snarl. Fuck her up as promised. Hurt her like she begs for. And Youngeun loves it like nothing else, absolutely nothing, her eyes rolling to the back of her head and a strangled groan as you reach another climax and fill up her pussy again. You pound yet another load into her tight hole.

As much as she would hate to ever admit it, this is as close to a home as she has in her life.

[princessbrunette]

ᡣ𐭩 ｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅PRINCESSBRUNETTES SCREAM SALON INTRODUCES … ໒꒰ྀི ˃̵ ࿁ ˂̵ ꒱ྀིა

PICTURE YOU ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃

♩chappell roan — picture you ♩

pairing: pervy pope, jj, john b x reader

cw: sexual fantasies, the pogues being peeping toms, masturbation.

you are responsible for your own media consumption. welcome to kinktober day five. better late than never!

pope knew was he was doing was wrong. you were his neighbour for christs sake.

at the end of the day, he was but a man— and whilst he had no intention of stooping to full pervert level like this, he had slipped up and bragged to the wrong people, AKA — jj maybank, about how his fine ass neighbour had a certain… routine, every friday night… and would leave her bedroom blinds open for it.

the regret fully kicked in when he opened his front door, seeing the excited expression on his two best friends faces.

“no. i shouldn’t have told you.” is how pope greets them.

“dude it’s fine,” jj reiterates, easily moving past him in the entrance to his house with a clap on the shoulder, an only slightly less enthused john b following closely behind with an awkward but willing smile. “we’re not gonna watch. we’re just gonna… like — happen to glance out the window. while she’s flickin’ the bean.”

“thats — that doesn’t make it any more okay.” pope stresses, following his friends up to his bedroom.

“look, she leaves her blinds open right? isn’t that what you said? have you maybe considered that… possibly, and hear me out on this… she wants to be watched?” john b, usually the voice of reason finds it in himself to convince pope just that little more, wide puppy-like eyes doing most of the convincing. he’s probably the only reason pope hasn’t grabbed them both by the scruff of the neck and hauled them out.

the night goes on, and honestly — the perverted plan is nearly forgotten about until their attention is brought to the window just across from popes, the lamp switching on as you arrived home from work. john b swivels on popes desk chair, nodding his head toward the sight with a whistle.

“oop, shows starting.”

“honey, i’m home.” jj sings out in a high pitched voice, excited for what’s to come.

“you’re so much better than this, john b.” pope deadpans, double taking at jj as he switches off the lights to the bedroom sending them all into darkness. “what the hell?”

“do you wanna get caught creepin’ on your neighbour? no? didn’t think so.”

“you done this before jayj?” there’s a lilt of teasing to the brunettes voice as his blonde counterpart grabs a seat and drags it up beside him, the young adults gathered as they watch your figure dart around the room going about your nightly activities.

“shh.”

the boys curse, ducking down slightly when you suddenly appear at your window, fingers grazing the blinds. they stay deadly still in the dark, barely even breathing as to not draw attention to the fact they’re gathered round to watch you. you look pensive, hesitant, like you’re about to draw the blinds and shut the world out and yet… you don’t. you back away, leaving them open.

“huh.” pope breathes, glancing at his wavy haired friend.

“likes an audience. interesting.” routledge hums, voice deep and breathy.

you begin to undress, and they swear the air in the room gets thicker. peeling your leggings down your legs like they’d been painted onto you for the day creates an audible reaction from your neighbour and his friends, jj even going as far as to stick his knuckle in his mouth.

“god damn.” he garbles, earning a hum of agreement.

“oh you really lucked out here pope. the only neighbour i ever had was a 70 year old woman. trust me when she left her blinds open you look the other way.” john b doesn’t remove his eyes from the scene as he recounts the anecdote, causing pope to screw up his face.

the truth was, pope did have his own fantasies and perversions. he told himself time and time again, he wasn’t watching. he was at his desk first, you left your blinds open. visions of you at the library you worked at, helping him with research in that little mini skirt he saw you wear once. bending over to rummage shelves, sweet fat crescent of your pussy on display through your panties. pope would have no choice but to take you right there on the table behind the bookshelves, the two of you trying to stay quiet as he disappears between your thighs, seeking out that sweet nectar…

when he snaps out of it, you’re already on the bed, in perfect eyeshot of the window. just you, that dim lamp that made your skin seem to glow, an oversized tshirt and some panties.

“you guys don’t feel wrong doing this?” pope speaks in a hushed voice like you might be able to hear.

“how could something so right be so wrong, my friend?” jj pulls out a joint to stick into his mouth, only to have it plucked from his lips and tossed aside by the heyward boy.

“i’m drawing a line.”

“alright, that’s fair.”

“you guys are missing it.” john b hums, entranced by the way you palm at your tits through the top, eyes fluttering shut as your body starts to relax into the bed. “putting on a show for us.”

silence falls upon them finally as they stare, your hands trailing down to lift the hem of your shirt up and over your breasts, massaging the fat and plucking at the nipples.

“oh wow.” pope breathes, jj breaking out into a grin.

“this is some american pie shit right here.”

“grow up.”

“i’m just saying.”

it seems like forever before your hands reach down to your panties, fingers gingerly dusting over the thin fabric of what appears to be baby blue panties with a pink bow at the top centre. jj even swears he can see the gloss of your arousal on your open thighs from where he’s sat. you begin to rub yourself through the material, teasingly and you pull your bottom lip beneath your teeth, sucking in a breath.

“th’atta girl.” john b murmurs, and the air in the room suddenly feels too hot, too stifling. it wasn’t this hot five minutes ago.

“its like i… can’t look away.” pope justifies in just above a whisper, finally perching down to a more comfortable view, watching the way your head tosses side to side, back arching just that little bit as you try and find a better angle. patience leaves you, and you’re pulling the panties off all together.

“would you look at that.” jj marvels, before glancing at his two friends. “y’all mind if i jerk off real quick?”

“what?” pope screws up his face, and john b glances at him.

“yeah, uh. i mind.”

“it can’t wait?” pope adds, shaking his head and jj throws up his hands.

“i thought that’s what we were doing’ here alright my bad!” he dodges john b’s disapproving swat, eyes wide. “oh that’s where you draw the line? y’all are not real freaks.”

“no.” john b shakes his head, pope chiming in with a “thank god.”

but as their attention lands on you once more, your fingers sinking into that glossy hole — they begin to really reconsider their choice.

[reidmoony-toast]

Angel. - sr x reader

Reader gets shot and Spencer is there to comfort her

content: fem reader, established relationship, angst/comfort, ambiguous ending, no use of y/n, takes place in 15x01-02

cw: canon compliant violence, blood, guns, dying (they're going to be fine dw)

wc: 966

an: Hey, so this is my first ever published Spencer fic, so I'm really nervous lol! This will get zero to no engagement and I'm accepting that now, but if ya'll want a part 2 I'm happy to oblige!! Enjoy lovelies <3

Part 2

· · ──────────── ·𖥸· ──────────── · ·

Everything happened so quickly, yet it felt like a millennia before I hit the ground–free falling through life and death in turn, the descent ending on the dingy floor of a parking garage. My vision cut in and out through the surges of white-hot agony that were coursing throughout my entire body, ears ringing.

I saw a blurry figure pile into a car, before peeling out of the parking space, kicking up dust as it raced out of the building. I tried to move to grab my gun that was lying a few feet away, but it felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on me, causing me to become prone and forcing me to accept the fate that was laid before me.

As I coughed up blood, I had the inexplicable urge to laugh. The irony, that this was the way I would go out–lying defenceless and helpless on the cold concrete, synthetic LED bulbs flickering incessantly above me.

The pain was becoming too unbearable, paralysing any coherent thoughts. There was one word that was repeated over and over again:

Spencer.

I didn't know if it was a prayer to some higher being, or merely a mantra, but it was the only single word I could make out in the haze of my dying mind. I wished I was the one with the eidetic memory, so that I could at least see his face one last time.

Blood pooled steadily around me as it left my body, never to return. The ringing in my ears steadily grew louder while the garage was dead silent, besides for the wet sounds of me choking on my own blood.

The bitter silence was cut off by the frantic shouting of a name. My name. The person neared, skidding to a halt and dropping to their knees beside me. The blurry figure hovered over me, obscuring the too-bright lights from view.

They came into partial focus, and I choked out a sob when I realised my pathetic prayers had been answered. Spencer was here. He shushed me soothingly, stroking my hair with shaking hands. "It's okay, baby. You're gonna be okay, okay?" He cradled my cheeks with his hands, trying in vain to wipe the blood from my face with his own bloodied hands. I sobbed again, squeezing my eyes shut.

"No, no, no, no," Spencer chanted, "Keep your eyes open, love, please. Look at me," He pleaded, gently shaking me so that I would open my eyes again. They landed on his face, screwed up in worry and pain. I vaguely wondered if he was hurt, if that's why he looked as though he too was in agony.

My eyes studied his face as best as they could, mapping out every detail, desperate to memorise it. They landed where they–without fail–always did. His eyes stared back with tears, frantic and pleading. I would gladly study these eyes for hours on end–and I did–so much so that he would often make fun of me for the incessant staring.

It didn't stop me though, not while those deep brown eyes with the ring of pure gold in the centre were there for me to look at. That's where my gaze now rested, on those gorgeous, breathtaking eyes.

"Spencer." My voice was foreign to me–shaky and so unbelievably small. "You- you came." I strangled out. He nodded, pushing my hair back off of my face.

"I'm here, baby. I'm here." His voice cracked and trailed off. He never let go of me as he radioed in, asking for an immediate ambulance. I didn't hear the response. Spencer carefully repositioned me, laying my head and shoulders in his lap as he searched for the source of the bleeding.

I gazed numbly up at Spencer, the lights causing a halo around his head with his messy curls. I thought that it was fitting. By all accounts he was an angel. My angel. I let out a shaky and ragged breath. How many more of those would I have? I could most likely count them with one hand.

Spencer stopped his quick search when he found what he was looking for, immediately putting pressure on the wound. I cried out at the added agony. "I know, I know, I know. I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry." He kept chanting, cradling my head with his free hand. I whimper in pain.

"Spencer?" I breathed out, voice wobbling. He stroked my cheek lovingly, chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Yes?"

My face crumpled in pain. "It hurts."

He drew in a sharp, pained breath. "I know, baby, I know." He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. "Help's coming, okay? Hang in there, love." Another shaky breath. "Stay with me." His sentence tapered off to a barely audible volume, bloodied hand shaking violently on my face, tears dripping down his cheeks. "Please."

I started coughing again, more blood spraying over my face, some of it even ending up on Spencer's. It made me disproportionately angry–that his face was tainted with my dying blood. I wished I could wipe it off, but I didn't have the strength to lift my arm.

My vision swam as I started to lose what was left of my consciousness as what felt like the last of my blood left my body. My eyes fluttered closed.

"No, no, no, hey!" Spencer gently tapped my cheek. "Don't close your eyes. Stay awake until the ambulance arrives, please," He begged, but my lids were incredibly heavy.

"I-I feel–," I sucked in a shallow breath. "So cold."

He bundled me tighter against him, trying to sooth me with whispered comforting words. The last thing I remembered before I slipped out of consciousness was Spencer's calming voice and the sound of approaching sirens.

· · ──────────── ·𖥸· ──────────── · ·

Thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated x

Masterlist ౨ৎ

[moonchildstyles]

First time sex with rosemary 🌿

wordcount: 9k

—————

Wiping her floured hands on her apron, (Y/N) brushed her hair out of her face with her wrist before reaching towards her back pocket for her vibrating phone. Her lips curled into a soft smile seeing Harry's name on her screen, his contact featuring a photo of him sleepy-eyed next to his kitten in her bed had her smile stretching wider. Taking a quick glance at the time, she was sure he'd just made it back to his apartment after finishing up at the grocery store. 

Quickly, she peeled her gloves from her hands and peeked out into the storefront of the bakery. Just as she had left it a handful of minutes before, there weren't any patrons now that the morning rush had passed, leaving Sabrina tucked behind the desk with her book folded open. 

"Hey, I'm going to take my fifteen really quick. Is that okay?" As soon as Sabrina gave her the go ahead with a wave of her hand with her eyes still stuck to her book, (Y/N) was answering the call with a tap of her thumb. "Harry?" she greeted, stepping out back of the bakery for a bit of privacy in the mid-morning air. 

"Hi, peach," he murmured through the receiver, voice drooping and soft, "Is it alright that I called you? I know you're still working, so." 

"Your timing was perfect, actually," she told him, knowing he was probably more worried than he was letting on for fear of having ruined her day, "Everything just cleared out from this morning, and I needed a break." 

"Yeah? Long shift already?" he pressed, the sound of sheets shuffling on the other side with a petite meow chirping through. 

"A little bit, yeah," she sighed, wishing she was wrapped up in warm sheets with Harry and Rosemary, "Just one of those Sunday morning shifts, you know. How was your night, though? Work was okay?" 

"Yeah," he said, the syllable floating out on a long suffering sigh, "Theo and Brett were still annoying, but I think Fawn is going to cover one of my shifts this week." 

(Y/N) immediately perked up at the new information. She'd been urging him to take some time off this past month; he didn't have to work himself to the bone anymore, not now that his issues from back home had been resolved. It was unhealthy, she'd told him more than once—he would make himself sick with more than just exhaustion if he wasn't careful. 

"Really? What day?" she bubbled off, ready and willing to shift her own schedule around if he wanted. 

"Thursday." 

She could hear the smile in his voice as he uttered the words. He knew what reaction he was going to get. 

"Are you serious?" she beamed, bouncing on the soles of her feet, "You have the whole weekend off then?" 

"I do, yeah. So do you." 

"Harry," she bleated, "I'm so excited! We haven't had any time together I feel like, and now we get a whole weekend! Thank you!" 

"That's what I was thinking when I made my request; barely seen you this past week. 'S not fair." 

"It's not," she affirmed, "You haven't even been able to sleep over since Friday. I'm not used to that." 

"Me neither, peach," he murmured, his tone decidedly more somber than just a moment before though she understood where he was coming from. 

Ever since their impromptu road trip, they tended to have as many sleepovers as their schedules would allow. Besides the comfort that came along with being at each other's side—especially in the case of Harry's frequent nightmares—, it was hard to forget how much they liked sharing a bed and sitting down for meals together. 

"Did you want to do anything special?" she prompted, already racking her brain for anything that Harry would enjoy leaving the house for. 

"I've got to go to the library at some point," he mused, another chirping meow sounding from the background prompting a huff of laughter to leave his lips, "But, other than that, I was hoping I could catch up on m'sleep." 

"We can do that," (Y/N) decided, shifting her view of the days off to turn into cozy sheets and breakfasts in bed, "A weekend long sleepover. We'll make a thing of it." 

"Yeah?" Harry asked, a smile audible in his tone—a vision that had (Y/N)'s chest warming. "How are we gonna do that?" 

She hummed, sifting through her ideas before landing on a few to share, "Probably movies if we have the attention span for it—if not, we can read together or something. We can do face masks too—Ooh, or I'll get another of that hair mask you like. Let me think, but I have some ideas." 

"'M sure y'do, peach," he murmured, his voice decidedly lower and slower than before, sleep vining around the edges of his words, "Whatever y'want, we'll do. I trust you." 

"I'll make sure we make a thing of it, H," she told him, reluctant to say her next words but knowing he needed to get as much sleep as he could manage, "I've got to get back to the ovens, but I'll text you when I'm off." 

"Yeah?" he mumbled, "Tell me when y'get home?" 

"You've got it," she smiled, feeling the winter sun warm on her cheeks, "Goodnight, H."

"Goodnight, peach." 

With that, (Y/N) ended the call. Hopefully, he would be able to sleep through the rest of her shift at least. He just needed to get through the next few days, then he'd have some time off to spend at her gingerbread house. 

The thought had that soft curl on her lips feeling permanent. She would have to remind him how proud she was that he was taking a couple of days off, the time well-deserved. 

Just like she said, she would make a thing of it, she only had to figure out what a thing for Harry looked like. 

—————

With Rosemary wriggling in his arms, Harry nearly fumbled his keys to the ground while on (Y/N)'s stoop. She was a calm little thing nearly any other time of the day, but as soon as they were at (Y/N)'s door, Rosie couldn't settle. 

Keeping his hold on her tight, he was able to finally stumble through the door before letting her spill out of his arms. Her feet pattered over the hardwood, beelining for the kitchen just as he knew she would. Harry could only shake his head as he kicked off his shoes by the door, setting them next to (Y/N)'s under the foyer table. He couldn't stay mad, though, especially not when he heard the familiar cooing of his peach filtering down the hall. 

"Where's your daddy, Rosie?" (Y/N) crooned, voice a soft murmur through the house, "We've got to talk to him about how hungry you are when you come over. Is he not giving you enough treats?"

Following the sound of her voice, Harry's lips curled instinctively into a soft smile when he spotted (Y/N) crouched next to his kitten, fingers massaging through her fur. There was a part of him that wanted to peer out the small window above her sink, ensuring no one was watching in—a part of him that he forcefully tamped down in favor of reveling in the sight of his stitched family. 

"You know I feed her," he drawled, leaning against the threshold of the entrance, "I don't know why she acts like this when we come over." 

It was the way (Y/N)'s features seemingly bloomed when she looked up at him. Her hand absently continued petting Rosemary, but it was clear all of her attention was splashed upon him. It was when her eyes were on him with nothing but adoration that had Harry happily anchored to the moment, warm and comfortable in his skin. He hoped he was able to make her feel that way when he looked at her. 

"Hey, H," she smiled, giving one last stroke to Rosie before she was standing to her feet and crossing the kitchen towards him, "I was going to ask you how work was, but you're on vacation." 

"I am, aren't I?" he mused, collecting her into his arms.

(Y/N) looped her arms around his neck while he hugged her around her middle, face cradled into the crook of her neck. His eyes fell closed reflexively, his chest expanding as he pulled in a deep breath. The sugary scent of her skin filled his lungs, her hair tickling his nose. 

"Are you excited?" she asked, trailing her fingers up and into his hair as she drew away. 

Matching her eyes, her question drifted away in favor of tipping forward and pressing a kiss to her lips. A giggled out his name against his mouth, muttering something about answering her, though Harry didn't pay it any mind. He focused on the give of her lips under his, the seam parting when she eventually melted into him. Her hands in his hair was a warming tether, keeping him from drifting out of her pastel kitchen. 

It was her that pulled away first, cutting off his indulgences earlier than he liked. He attempted to chase after her, craning his neck with puckered lips, though that only granted him a peal of her laughter fluttering between them. 

"Not in front of Rosie, H," she teased, unwrapping from his arms to move towards the stove where a warm oven and bubbling pan had gone unnoticed before. 

Harry stood back, watching as she stirred and tasted and adjusted, clicking on the light in her oven to take a peek inside. No matter how many times he'd offered to make dinner, take care of her meals—told her that he liked cooking, even—she had insisted that she wanted to take care of him, take one worry off of his plate. When she put it that way, he didn't feel like fighting with her. 

"She's seen worse, peach," he countered, leaning over the peninsula counter with his forearms flat on the surface. He had a perfect view into the domestic dream that was his (Y/N), complete with a bow in her hair despite the mess of a bun on the top of her head. 

A small laugh fell from her lips as she looked over her shoulder at him, "Maybe, but we shouldn't encourage it. Dinner's almost ready anyway, so we don't need to be distracted." 

"Yeah? What'd y'make?" He could see just the edges of something creamy in the pot she was stirring.

"Sabrina's family is visiting, and her dad gave me this recipe for stuffed shells with all this cheese and, like, spinach and stuff. I thought we'd try it out." She gave him a beaming smile when she finished whatever she was stirring, taking it off of the burner with the timer on the oven ticking down to less than two minutes. 

"That sounds really nice, love. Thank you. I've got dishes tonight." 

"Harry." A small scold—as expected.

"(Y/N)," he responded in the same arguing tone as she, "You're letting me—and my cat—stay here all weekend, 'm not letting us leave a mess here for you too. 'S alright." 

This was one of those things he didn't allow much room for argument on. It was one of those things—fear of feeling like a burden—that had come with the years on the run while attempting to ensure his impact was never felt. He was working on it, sure, but the least he could do for all of (Y/N)'s kindness was taking care of the dishes. 

"Okay," she relented, eyes rounding out as she looked up at him, "Just not tonight, though. I have something special for you after dinner." 

He did recall her saying something about making this weekend a thing for him, he just didn't really know what exactly that meant. "And, what's that?" 

A sheepish look crossed her face, softening her features and lining her eyes. "It's kind of silly, but I got some fun bath things and, like, candles and stuff. I wanted to make everything a little special tonight since it's your first extra, real day off in a long time." 

The longer she went on explaining herself, Harry could feel his own lips curling into a small smile. "Really?" he asked when she finally took a breath. 

"Yeah," she started, dropping her eyes from his, "But, you don't have to use them or anything if you don't want to. I know it might not really be your thing, and all." 

"Love," he crooned, the petname falling from his lips just for her to hear, "Thank you. That sounds really nice actually—don't remember the last time I took a bath like that. 'M always too worried about the water running cold." 

(Y/N)'s expression brightened at his words. "I'm excited for you to see all the stuff I got for you, then. But only after dinner—and dessert."

"Dessert?" 

"Of course dessert," (Y/N) smiled, moving back to the oven on the brink of beeping, "But that's a surprise." 

It was the way she looked at him before she gave her attention to the oven and baking pasta, how bubbly she seemed over something as simple as a surprise sweet for him to have at the end of the meal. That was what had him all but melting into the countertop. She could have fed him garbage and left him to soak in an ice bath and he'd be just as happy—all he needed was for her to keep looking at him like that. 

—————

"Are y'sure y'don't want me to do the dishes tonight?" 

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, pulling out of Harry's embrace to head towards the kitchen and the plates waiting by the sink. "Yes, I'm sure, H. I want you to relax this weekend, I don't mind doing a couple of plates." 

"But—" 

"No," (Y/N) cut him off, plugging the sink before beginning to fill the basin with soapy water, "As soon as I get this ready, we're going to my bathroom and I'm showing you all the stuff I got for you, and then you're going to not think about the kitchen again for the rest of the night." 

"I'm not?" he asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips at her insistence. Sometimes it was fun to argue with her for no other reason than he liked to see her put her foot down with a smoke to her gaze. 

He thought it was cute.

"Nope. Not even for a second." Amusement covered her own features by the time she cut the tap and turned to face him. "C'mon." 

With that, she flitted out of the kitchen with socked feet padding over the flooring. She didn't have to look back to know Harry was following. 

Tailing her through the house with his gaze carefully landing on the round of her hips as they swayed with her steps, she took him to her bathroom. There, on the counter, was a brown paper bag with a white painted logo on the front. A gifting ribbon had the handles tied together on top,  a tag with his name dangling from the tendril. 

In presentation, (Y/N) stood off to the side of the counter, a beaming smile on her face as she flourished her hands out. "Happy free weekend." 

"What's this, hm?" he hummed, stepping over the tile with his gaze narrowed teasingly in her direction. 

"Your bath stuff," she said, practically bouncing in her spot as he began reluctantly untying the bow. He wanted to keep it perfect—he couldn't remember the last time he received a gift, especially one like this. 

Harry could feel his eyes on her as he began digging through the bag. Floating on top were two powdery spheres, striped in alternating colors with dried flowers stamped inside. He settled them gently on the counter, his hands coming away with remnants of the sweet smelling dust. 

"They're bath bombs," (Y/N) piped up, "They're those things that dissolve in the water and make it colorful with all these nice skin things in them. The purple one is lavender and sage, and the blue one is lotus and jasmine."

Smiling at her explanation, he reached back inside the bag. A glass bottle filled with sweet smelling oil was his next find, the wax seal corking it closed having dripped its way down to the label. He could smell the warm, floral notes from here, even with the contents sealed away. Looking at the simple label wrapped around the thick of the bottle, he looked up at her with raised brows. 

"Massage oil?" 

It was the way she hesitated that had his lips stretching into a smile. "Its—I—It doesn't have to be used for that. It can just be a nice body oil if you want, but I... I mean if you want a massage, I could use that, so." 

So far, this was his favorite gift from her reaction alone. He settled it with a clink next to the bath bombs. "I'll keep that in mind." 

Next in line was a candle, standing tall in a cold glass voice in the bag. Pulling it out, the four wicks were sealed away with the help of the suctioned lid, showing off the marbling of the wax tucked inside. It was a swirling jade color, complete with lapping white streaks to emulate the gemstone. Under the just right light, he could see bursts of glitter suspended inside. The label boasted a vanilla sage scent, surely meant to match the sage bath bomb he'd picked up earlier. 

"Peach," he smiled, looking at his gifts spread out on the counter for him, "These are so nice, than—" 

"There's more," she bubbled, unable to contain herself this time, "At the bottom." 

He raised a brow but dug inside like she suggested. At the bottom, his fingertips brushed something smooth and flat. Getting his fingers around it, Harry already had a good idea of what he was pulling out, a smile spreading over his features and denting his cheeks with dimples. 

It was a book—one of his favorites from the library. One he had loved enough that he wished he had his own copy to keep him company—something he had told (Y/N). The cover was the black and white with splashes of red, the artwork glossier than what he had borrowed from the library. The spine was uncracked, kept in pristine condition—just the way he liked it.

"I know you've already read it, but I thought you might want to read a little again while you take your bath," (Y/N) mused at his side, her hands in a fumbling bundle before her. 

"(Y/N)," Harry sighed, looking up from his new, personal edition, "This is all wonderful, really. Thank you, so much." 

With his book still in hand, he collected her in his arms, tucking her against his chest. While he wasn't one hundred percent sure what all of the things he had received were, it was more than warming to think about her perusing a shop with him in mind, plucking things up with the intention of sharing them only with him. 

"I know it's all kind of silly, but I'm happy you like it," she murmured into his shoulder, the curl of her smile felt against the cuff. 

"'S not silly," he told her, drawing back just enough to get a look in her eyes, "I can't remember the last time anyone has done anything like this for me. I really like all of it, (Y/N). Thank you." 

Tipping his chin, he pressed his lips to hers, hoping she felt his words as much as she heard them. He felt eased when her lips molded into a soft smile. 

"I'm happy I could change that," she cemented, beginning to untangle himself from his hold, "I'll leave you to it, then. Take as long as you want, I'm just going to clean up and we'll go to bed—" 

"You're not staying with me?" 

How was he supposed to enjoy all of these trinkets and things without her there? What was the point of a sage candle and glittery bath bomb if she wasn't going to be indulging with him? 

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks, one foot out of the bathroom. "Oh—um, no? I was going to go clean the kitchen and things, remember?" 

"Yeah, but," he started, watching to reach out and keep her on the tiled floor with him, "can y'do that later?" 

"Do you want me to?" was her simple response. 

Harry nodded. "Yeah." 

Her features were warm, taking a step back into the bathroom with him. "Then, I'll do it later." 

It didn't take long for their clothing to be shed, lying in a lumpy file on the floor with the tub filled to the brim with steaming water. Harry had chosen the lavender bomb to be placed in the water, (Y/N) all too excited to show him the magic of the fizzy powder. She had urged him to sink in first, her gaze following the lines of his body before she had gone after him. 

Harry wrapped his arms around her as she sunk into him, his chest to her back. The steaming water rippled around them, scenting the air with crisp lavender and warming sage. Every deep breath he took had the bunching in his muscles lessening and lessening until he was lax with (Y/N) in his hold. He could feel her every breath, the expanding of her chest that pressed back into him, the brush of her hair drifting through the surface of the water and tickling his skin, the careful way she had her hands laying atop his own where they were threaded over the soft of her stomach. It was easy for his eyes to shutter closed with his head tipping back against the rim of the tub. 

It was almost enough to keep him from acknowledging the curve of her body pressed against his cock.

Now wasn't the time though, he starkly reminded himself, taking in a deep breath of the calming lavender. She had wanted to relax with him, not get felt up with a dick pressing against her ass. 

"Do you like it?" 

The sound of (Y/N)'s crooned words had him blinking his eyes open. He wasn't even hard yet, how could she know that he was already talking himself down? 

"What?"

"The bath bomb," she laughed, oblivious, "You said you've never used one before, right?" 

"Oh," he sounded, exhaling finally, "Yeah. 'S nice—it smells really nice. I could fall asleep in here.”

Twisting in his arms, (Y/N) shot him a beaming smile over her shoulder. "I have before—I don't recommend." 

"Yeah?" he smiled, much more willing to focus on this anecdote than on the way the shifting of her body hit points on him he would have rather ignored for the time being. 

"Oh yeah," she cemented, shaking her head, "I only woke up when I felt water going up my nose 'cause I started slipping." 

Though she laughed off the remark, a frown settled on Harry's lips. "Y'almost drowned? (Y/N)..."

Her name came out as a scold, one that had her letting out another peal of laughter. "No, I didn't drown, H—" 

"You almost did," he pointed out. 

There were parts of him, traits that he gained during his years protecting his mother and sister, that were now woven into the fabric of his personality. Hearing (Y/N)'s story had that protective gene flaring up in him, urging him to hold her tighter, keep her at his side. He wouldn't let his mind wander to another version of events where she hadn't spasmed awake when the warm water touched her nose. 

His limbs became a warming cradle around her form, caging her to him lest the bathtub somehow raise tsunami waves and try to pull them apart. He pressed his lips to the back of her shoulder, speaking against the skin, "I don't like that." 

(Y/N) wiggled her hands underneath his, turning her palms up to match his own with her fingers threading between. "It's just a funny story, H. I'm fine—you know I don't take baths, like, ever, anyway." 

His brows pinched into a furrow. Sure, maybe he did know that. "Still," he grumbled.

Harry's petulance only served to draw another breath of laughter from her chest. 

She wriggled in his hold some, melting into him as she slid deeper into the water. The milky shaded water ripped around her, Harry keeping her close as she settled with her head resting against his shoulder. 

"I'm fine, Harry," she cemented, peeking up at him with an adoring smile on her features, "But, you're cute for worrying." 

Taking in a deep breath, he did nothing more than dropping another kiss to the cuff of her shoulder. He wasn't trying to be cute—he was protective. It was a part of his nature. 

Shuttering his eyes, Harry indulged himself and allowed his kissing to continue down her shoulder, only stopping when the lapping line of the water halted him. With his fingers laced between hers, he pulled her arm out of the pastel bath. He dotted his lips down the line of her limb, nose skimming her skin in his wake and raising goosebumps. A plume of laughter left his peach, the sound enough to have his own smile taking place as he fought to smear his lips over her skin. 

It wasn't until he was headed towards her wrist, landing on the soft underside of her arm that he slowed when he, through cracked eyes, spotted a slash that had made a home in her skin. It was small, though it looked only partially healed—still a warm red and slightly raised.

"What happened here?" he murmured, a pinch furrowing his brow. 

"Hm?" (Y/N) hummed dazedly, shuffling in his hold before spotting what had made him stop in the first place, "Oh, Rosie scratched me by accident." 

It was something so minor, completely mundane and curable. The scratch wouldn't even scar, and yet Harry still felt his shoulders deflate. He would have to remind Rosemary to be gentle with her mother—she was entirely too special, no need to have claws out when being held by her. 

He apologized for his cat with a small press of his lips to the cut. 

Under the cover of the pastel water, (Y/N) untangled her hand from his that was still laid against her stomach. He was left to feel the give of her plush skin under the pads of his fingertips while she carded her own through his hair. Though he attempted to continue the dotted affection of his kiss over her skin, he didn't stand much of a chance as he reveled under her touch. 

Maybe it was the brush of her nails against his scalp, or the slight give of her body under his hand, or just the fact that he could feel every line of her body against his own, but Harry felt his stomach tense then. It was minute and fleeting, but something he felt under the blocking muscles of his abdomen. 

He attempted to keep a lid on whatever that feeling could lead to by taking a deep breath, but that only reminded him of (Y/N)'s skin right under his nose and the fact that she had been the one to run him this bath and that was why she was naked, and warm, and wet, and pressed right against him, and that was why his hands were on her and—

"H?" 

Blinking his eyes open and drawing away from her, Harry looked up to match her wide eyes. "Hm?" 

There was something teasing on her expression, lighthearted in her eyes with a small tug edging on the corner of her mouth. "Are you okay? You weren't breathing for a second." 

"Oh," he sounded, mouth dry, "Sorry." 

She shook her head, murmuring something about him being funny or cute or something, but, admittedly, Harry didn't have an ear to lend at that moment as (Y/N) started moving around him. Wriggling out of his hold, Harry stayed still in the water as she maneuvered around until she deposited herself in his lap. Her thighs were spread to cushion his hips, her bottom settled on the thick of his thighs while her chest was flush against his. Only trickles of the lavender water were able to make their way between her breasts and the curves of her body, leaving her shimmering with the scented oil on her skin and suddenly warmer than the steaming water. 

Looking up at her, Harry took his time tracing the lines of her piled hair with the wet ends sticking to her skin, warm cheeks glowy and dewy, the soft light reflecting in her eyes from the candle she had lit and stationed behind their cuddled bodies. He felt breathless—reverent. 

It was never far from his mind just how deeply (Y/N) had impacted him. Without her, he never would have been knocked out of the daze that was his life—the cycle of never-ending loneliness and purposeless decisions. She had changed him in ways he was scared of, the ways that he had avoided for years because it was easier to stay the same. He didn't enjoy thinking of who he would be without her, where he would be. 

It was with that knowledge and the sight before him, that Harry wanted nothing more than to worship her and show her the purple that he had been given now that she was in his life. Religion wasn't anything that ever consoled him during his years on the run, but if the temples and altars had looked like her, the gods held her kind eyes and warming touch, he may have reconsidered. 

"You can touch me, you know." 

Dropping back to earth with a flutter of his eyes, he realized his hands were lax at his sides, careful to keep a distance from her skin. She had been the one to tie her arms around his neck, to keep their bodies close, while he had basked in the sight of her alone. 

"Sorry," he murmured, placing his palms on the full curve of her thighs. 

He skated them over her form, taking in the rounded edges of her body and warm skin. He'd touched her before, enough times to have mapped out every crook and groove, and yet, it still felt like the first time when he allowed him to feel. It would never get old knowing that he had someone like her that loved him enough to allow his hands to land on her. 

"Don't be sorry," she murmured, ducking her head until she planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I just don't want you to feel like you can't touch me—I'm yours, H, remember?" 

There was that stirring again in his stomach, that tensing in his muscles that felt much deeper and lower than he would have liked during a relaxing cuddle with his girlfriend. It was just the reminder, that declaration that got to him just like it always did. 

(It was a bit embarrassing, in Harry's opinion. Would it always be this easy to work him up? Would (Y/N) always be able to say a handful of words, let his hands wander to her hips, and then he would be done for?) 

"You're mine," he sighed, sinking deeper into the water. 

It was (Y/N)'s turn then to trail her lips over his skin, the pillows of her lips never fully lifting from his skin before she was planting another kiss. She went on with the tip of her nose smushing against the line of his jaw as she worked down to the column of his throat. He could feel himself growing harder and harder with every kiss, every brush of his hands over her body, until he was sure (Y/N) was well aware as well. Though she made it abundantly clear she didn't mind when she rocked her hips against his, his cock pressed against his stomach and the soft core between her thighs. 

A shuddering exhale caved his chest. 

"I'm yours," she crooned, the heat of her words fanning over his heated skin.

Her own arms wrapped around his neck began to drift, leaving only one tangled in the waves of his hair with the blunt of her nails tracing his scalp. Her touch skated down the length of his chest, her eyes settling into a daze as they followed the journey of her hand until it disappeared under the water. His abdomen jumped under her hand the lower she went until the heel of her palm grazed the plumped head of his cock.

He couldn't help the way he tossed his head back, leaning into the palm of her hand. His voice came out in a breath, "I want you so bad, peach, I'm so sorry." 

(Y/N) drew away just enough to match his eyes, her wandering hand settling against the middle of his chest. "Why are you sorry?" she asked with amusement in her eyes, a soft smile on her lips as she shook her head, "You don't have to be sorry." 

"Jus'" he started, focusing on the sight of her as opposed to the weight of her form and warmth of her skin against him, "I don't... Don't want to ruin tonight since you're already doing so much, and you're only trying to relax and 'm reacting like this and—" 

She cut him off with her lips pressing against his, the edges of her mouth unable to fall in line with her kiss as she fought back a smile. "Do you think I don't want you, too, right now? If I didn't, I wouldn't be climbing all over you, H—or trying to get you to take me back to my room." 

Shifting on his lap once more, (Y/N) emphasized her point with a small roll of her hips against him, her warmth grazing over his length. 

His hands on her waist tensed, denting into her flesh with stern fingertips. Was she asking for what he hoped—what he'd been wanting but was too fearful to ask for in worry of pushing her?

His mouth felt dry as he took in her features, watching as something heated lingered in her irises. "A-Are y'sure?" he mumbled, unwilling to misread the conversation. (Y/N) loved taking care of him, he never wanted her to think he was intending to take advantage of that. 

Carding her fingers through his hair, the tip of her tongue peeked out from between her lips to run along the seam. "I've really missed you, H. It's not always enough just to call you before I fall asleep, you know. It's not the same as actually having you." 

A spark pinged in his chest at her words, the memories they dredged up. A couple of times over the last week with his busy schedule, they'd spent some extra time on the phone before (Y/N) fell asleep for the night and Harry worked through an especially long shift. He knew exactly what she meant: now that he knew what it was like to be touched by her, his own hand, his own fantasies paled so starkly in comparison it was almost embarrassing. 

"I can take care of you, peach. 'M sorry I haven't been doing m'job, but I'll make it up to you," he crooned, tipping his head in hopes of pulling her in for a kiss, "Y'want m'mouth or m'fingers, love?" 

It was only when she shook her head that he paused. That hand trapped between their bodies made a deliberate graze down his body until she skated her fingertips over his length, the ruddy head twitching over her touch. "I want you," she corrected, "Don't you want to fuck me?" 

Maybe it was the fact she rarely cursed, or just how intensely she was meeting his eyes, or the feel of her grabbing his cock, but Harry could have blown it all right then. His throat felt thick as he attempted to swallow down the moan building in his chest. His eyes were hooded, a vignette forming around his view of her. 

It would be so easy to sink inside her, split open her walls and make a home between them. All he needed was to shift his hips just right, and then he would be taking advantage of her spread legs and the slick around them. But, his worry of disappointing her—leaving her unsatisfied—held him back. 

His mouth felt dry by the time he found his voice. "I—um—(Y/N)," he started, unsure of how exactly to divulge the information in him, "'S been a while since I've—..." 

He wasn't sure what he was expecting her reaction to be, but he gladly took the small kiss she offered him, sealing his lips to hers. "How long?" 

"Since before everything," he sighed, allowing himself to sink into her kiss and the brush of her mouth against his, "I don't want to... leave y'unsatisfied if 'm not... good." 

That had her lips curling against his, a cluster of small kisses being pressed to the full of his lips before she pulled away. "It's going to be good before it's you, H. I'm not worried—I love you, remember?" 

Was it normal for him to feel his cock pulse at her declaration? Or was he really that easy? 

"I love you, too," he slurred before taking her mouth against his once more. It was messy and heavy, clumsy and unsure, but he didn't care. "I want to fuck you so bad, peach. Can I?" 

All it took was a soft nod of her head before he had his arms lacing underneath the thick of her thighs with the water splashing around the tub. He held her tight, grip stern as he stood tall in the pastel water. (Y/N) let out a bubbling laugh, clinging to him with a gasp as if he would ever drop her. 

With her pressed tightly to his chest, his cock was now fit snugly between the planes of his abdomen and the soft folds between her legs. Water sluiced down his form, a chill befalling his skin now that they'd left the steaming pool behind, though that had no effect on just how hard he was for his peach. 

"We didn't have to right away," (Y/N) laughed, fingers denting the broad of his shoulders, "If you weren't done—" 

"'M done," he cemented, dropping her onto the bounce of her mattress with only a small amount of guilt at getting so much water on her sheets. He'd change them for her later. "You're m'favorite way to relax, peach—don't need all the rest." 

Laid on the center of her bed with her skin gleaming and warm, scented so sweetly from their bath, Harry had a new level of respect for his self-control. But, that was in the past now, left in the bathroom along with the droplets of water on the floor and the candle he would have to remember to blow out before they fell asleep. 

Crawling on the mattress with his cock heavy between his legs, he fit his body between her spread legs, reveling in the plush of her thighs on either side of his hips. (Y/N) reached for him on instinct, looping her arms around his neck with the curls on the back of his neck dampening against her skin. 

"Hi, you," she murmured, a bubbly smile on her lips as if she hadn't just asked him to fuck her a moment ago. 

He could only shake his head, dropping a kiss to the bridge of her nose as he situated himself above him with his forearms stationed on either side of her head. "Hi, peach. What are you up to, hm?" 

"Nothing much," she laughed, hitching a thigh over his lip in a languid move to thrust him forwards. "You?" 

Harry's voice was stilted in his throat, feeling her slick folds give around his cock when his length split through. He could feel the minute pulsing of her clit against his base. "Jus' worried 'm not gonna last very long at all, nothing important," he attempted to joke, if only to feel of plume of her laughter fill the air. 

Instead, he garnered a smearing of (Y/N)'s lips against his own, her affection tender and lingering. "Don't worry about that," she urged him, "I don't care—I just want you to feel good." 

A furrow pinched his brow, his heart rattling when she rocked her hips underneath him as if it wasn't already hard enough to concentrate. "But, I want y'to feel good too, and—" 

"I will as long as you do," she reiterated, amusement sparking in her blown pupils, "I don't care if you finish early, just finish in me, that's all I ask." 

Harry couldn't contain the moan in his throat, the rumbling falling from his throat as he rested his forehead against hers with shuttered eyes. He could feel a bead of warm precum blurting from his tip, dripping to land on the soft of (Y/N)'s stomach with a pulse. 

"You're going to kill me," he murmured, not sure if he was speaking for her to hear, "D-Do y'need me to do anything f—" 

Cutting him off with a kiss, (Y/N) slipped her tongue between his lips only to offer a quick taste before she was pulling away once more. "You can feel how wet I am, right?" 

As if he could forget with the way she was pressed against the underside of his cock, the ridge of his head tight between their stomachs. He answered with a small nod. 

"Y-You're sure, then?" he murmured, attempting to tap into that self control he had back in the tub. 

"I want you, H," she assured, nothing teasing or urgent in her voice, only sincerity, "As long as you're ready, I am, too. It's just me—you don't have to worry." 

His only response came in the form of a small kiss and a declaration: "I love you, (Y/N)." 

"I love you too," she smiled into his kiss, a small roll of her hips turning his brain to mush. 

His breathing was strained as he reached between their bodies, his fist wrapping around his shaft. Looking down, he watched as she spread her thighs that much wider as he swiped his cock between her folds. She was sticky and wet, clinging to the width of him as he split her open enough for his head to kiss her clit. He could see the jump of her muscles, the small whine that chirped from her lips, but he couldn't seem to stop himself—especially when a thread of her slick stuck to him, only bowing and breaking when he reached his cock towards his stomach, too far for the string to extend. 

"Harry, please," she quietly pleaded with him.

The sound of her voice was just enough to knock him back into the universe. It was enough to remind him that this wasn't the main event, there was even more warmth and wetness to be explored. 

Pressing the tip of his cock to her opening, he held himself steady as he pressed his hips forward. It was a tight squeeze, a feeling that took his breath away. As much as he wanted to catch (Y/N)'s expressions, see exactly what she looked like as he sunk inside her for the first time, he couldn't seem to peel his eyes away from the sight of his cock fitting inside her core. With every stretch of his length pushing through, less and less coherent thought filtered through his head. 

Instead, all he could think about was the snug fit of her walls around him, the pulsing with every heartbeat, just how wet she was, the warmth that enveloped him and welcomed him deeper and deeper. By the time he bottomed out, his mouth had fallen into a gape and his arm propping him up was now shaky. His only anchor was the grip he moved to have on her hip, his palm slick and sticky from fisting his cock though he didn't have it in him to care. 

He really, really hoped (Y/N) meant it when she said she wouldn't mind if he blew it fast; he doubted he had much longer left, and he'd only just sunk inside. 

"Y'alright, peach?" he breathed, his words fanning across her skin when he finally looked up to reach her eyes. 

Looking at him with hooded eyes, the pupils wide, (Y/N) gave him her confirmation in the form of a jerky nod. "I'm okay," she mumbled, "Are you?" 

"'M good," he said, feeling drunk despite not a single drop of alcohol even being present in (Y/N)'s home, "'M so good, peach. 'M scared 'm too good." 

"It's okay," she smiled at him, if only a bit dazed when she threaded her fingers through his damp curls, "Just do whatever makes you feel good—that's enough for me." 

He wished he could have told her how much her affection meant to him, how he couldn't believe she loved him the way she did, how there was no one who had such an effect on him, but there was no way his tongue was going to follow any kind of command let alone any train of thought to actually form. Instead, he settled for a searing kiss against her already swollen lips. 

Though he doubted he would have any chance at composure, he still attempted to catch his breath and his brain before he reared his hips back for the first time. Pulling out of her warm channel was enough to add some form of clarity to his mind, though it didn't last long before he pushed forward in a shallow thrust. Her walls welcomed him in once more, warm and snug with every ridge forming around him in a pulse. (Y/N)'s thighs tensed around his hips, a slight tremor to her muscles though she managed to let out a sigh of pleasure against his kiss. 

"Fuck, peach," he murmured when he bottomed out once more, the crown of his length tapping her furthest walls. 

A furrow had his brows pinched though his eyes remained closed, even when he couldn't manage to kiss her anymore, his lips simply resting against her own parted ones. He shared panted breaths with her, his forehead resting on her own with (Y/N)'s fingers curling in his hair. 

Though the pace was slow, he was able to curate a rhythm that kept him from finishing right away. He didn't feel too far from the edge, but this was as good of a chance as he was going to get when she felt as good as she did. 

"H-Harry," she whined, her voice breathy and airy, "You're so big." 

His hips stuttered at her words, the previously shallow thrust he was working on turning into a harsh grind against her core. The jolt had another moan rumbling her chest with a curse falling from Harry's lips. 

"Y'can't say that, peach," he murmured, unable to keep his pacing, "You're gonna make me cum and we've barely started." 

Every stroke was indulgent, lingering when he wanted, harsh and deep when he changed his mind, anything and everything to his taste. His only chance was in moving his hand from her hip and shaky positioning it between his punishing hips and her forgiving core. At the apex of her folds, her clit pearled. Though his hand was shaky, he still managed to smear the pad of his thumb against the bud, feeling the budding pulse that matched the hammering of her heart. 

Suddenly coming to light, (Y/N) managed to bring him in for a kiss. It was sloppy and clumsy, leaving their lips swollen and teeth glancing off one another, but there wasn't any room for perfection. 

Harry needed her, that was all he knew. His stomach tightened with every thrust, his balls shining with her slick with every slap against her ass. (Y/N)'s thighs were warm and tight on either side of his pelvis, unwilling to let him venture too far before accepting him back inside. 

"(Y/N)," he panted, shaking his head, "P-Peach, 'm so sorry." 

"Don't be sorry, do—shit—don't be sorry, H. I want you to cum, okay? Cum in me, please." 

How was he supposed to deny her? What kind of boyfriend would he be if he said no to such pretty words?

Keeping his thumb running circles around her swollen clit, Harry couldn't stop himself before harshly thrusting inside her and pausing when he felt the first spasm wrack through his abdomen. There was a bunch to his muscles he hadn't even realized until the thread keeping them together snapped. 

Ropes of his cum spurted out, decorating and flooding her walls with every pulse. She grew impossibly wet around him, his thumb barely keeping track as he tried to tend to her clit even through the tremors. He ground his hips against hers, unwilling to draw away even an inch out of her warmth as he came.

The world slowly came back into focus as he pulled in puffs of air, (Y/N) delicately kissing his bottom lip. He felt so hot, sticky despite the bath he'd just soaked in. 

Was sex always like this? He couldn't recall ever coming this hard, but had it been too long for him to remember? Or was this another (Y/N)-only thing? He could readily believe that highs like this only came from being in her arms. 

"Still with me?" his peach murmured, a wanton edge to her voice that reminded him that there were much more important things than his own pleasure. 

He nodded, finally reciprocating her kiss. "'M here, peach. I've got you."

Despite the oversensitivity beginning to leak into his system, he managed to grind into her just enough to match the swirling of his thumb against her clit. She gasped into his mouth, allowing him to slip his tongue past her lips and sweep over her own. He got a taste of her pleasured moans, reveling in the feel until it seemingly became too much for her. 

In a way he was now familiar with, (Y/N) let out a chirping moan, delicate and shaky into his mouth. That was the first sign before her fingers in his hair began to tug at the roots in a stinging pull, and toes curled. Her pussy clung to the shape of his cock, his cum overflowing around himself and dripping down to the bed under her ass as she gushed around him. His oversensitivity had him crying out a call of her name, her pulsing walls almost too hot to handle as she came around him. 

He could have done this all night, Harry decided. He could have pet his fingers over her clit and pressed into her walls for hours if not for the fact that they were both beginning to see the less than favorable side of sensitivity. 

"'M gonna pull out, okay?" he panted, blinking his eyes open to find his (Y/N)'s still shuttered. She answered in a quiet nod, her lips parted as she breathed. 

Though it was a bit reluctant, he drew his hips back in a slow glide. His softening cock slipped out with a wet sound as (Y/N) unfurled her legs from around him. A small whine left her lips, but she didn't stop him, only clinging to him.

Settling in bed beside her, reaching for one of the pillows stationed at the head of the bed, Harry fixed it under their heads. (Y/N) instinctively rolled to face him, sharing the cushion with him. He gave her time as she came down, brushing his fingers through her hair and over the planes of her features until she managed to crack her eyes open. 

"Hi, you," he smiled, repeating her small tease from earlier. 

A plume of laughter fell from her lips, a slight smile forming on her kiss-swollen lips. "Hi. What are you up to?" 

"Nothing. Jus' looking at you." 

"Nothing important then, I see," she laughed, snuggling closer to him until Harry was collecting her into his arms with her head tucked into his neck.

"Very important, actually," he corrected, amusement draining from his tone, "Thank you, peach. Really." 

"You don't have to thank me, H," she countered, "I obviously got my own benefits out of this, so don't think I just did this for you." 

He knew she was trying to play with him, get him to loosen up, but he wasn't in the mood for that just yet. He was a touch too sentimental at the moment. 

"You know what I mean," he murmured, planting a kiss to the top of her head, "I jus' love you, and... always means a lot when y'trust me, and let me be with you. Thank you." 

"I love you, too, Harry," she reciprocated, her own arms giving him a pulsing hug, "It's easy to trust you, really. I wouldn't want to have these kinds of moments with anyone else—you're the best thing that ever happened to me, honey." 

Though he knew they needed to change her bedding, and blow out the candle in the bathroom, get (Y/N) cleaned up, and mop up the bathroom, Harry couldn't find any good reason to extract himself from her arms. 

There would never be a good enough reason that came above being with her like this. 

—————

ahhhhh! thank u sm for reading and to whoever requested this! sorry for any mistakes and if you have any fun ideas or requests of your own please send them in!! if you want to read more, you can check my patreon page:)

[coco-cinnamon]

NEW PIERCINGS

Warnings: cursing, smut, nipple play, mentions of sex.

Pairings: JJ Maybank x Female Pogue Reader.

Summary: In which, when Y/N is sleeping over at JJ's house, she tells him that her piercings finally healed.

Author's Note: sorry this one is short.

coco-cinnamon. please do not steal, copy, modify, repost, or translate my work.

Lying beside JJ, you snuggled up to his side and looked up at him. "Mm.. Jayj?" You asked quietly.

"Yeah, cupcake?" He responded.

You sat up slowly. "I have something to tell you." You said.

JJ followed suit, sitting up and tilting his head. "Okay, what is it?"

You giggled. "It's not a big deal, but... my piercings have healed."

His grin widened. "You mean your nipple piercings?"

You smirked as you said, "Yup! Wanna see them?" his eyes lit up, and he quickly peeled your top off, discarding it on the floor. His gaze fixed hungrily on your exposed breasts, like a kid in a candy store. "Well, don't just stare," you said with a giggle, moving your hair aside. "Come on, touch them." Slowly, his hands trailed up your sides until they reached your waiting breasts.

He placed his hands on your breasts and gently squeezed. As you watched, you bit your lip. He massaged them for a moment before tugging lightly on your nipples, eliciting a gasp and whimper from you. "Fuck..." You breathed out with a sigh. JJ smirked and leaned down, taking your left nipple into his mouth. You gasped and moaned, running your fingers through his soft blonde hair as he suckled. After a few minutes, he pulled back.

He flashed a grin before moving to your right breast, drawing the hardened bud into his mouth and sucking on it. You closed your eyes, but they shot back open, and you gasped as JJ gently bit down on your nipple. He pulled back to admire your breasts, then looked up at you with a smirk. "I'm going to have so much fun with these pretty tits tonight." He said with a devilish grin.

Author's Note: tysm for reading, lovies! If you enjoyed this fic, please like and reblog to show your love <3

[promenadewithme]

Twelve Days of Christmas - Chapter 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem! reader Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: slight angst (i swear the fluff is coming), sexual content (not sex, but mentions of it), food (sweets, coffee), established relationship (marriage and divorce), motherhood, not proofread and i'm sick so there might be some screwups along the way a/n: i swear I planned on writing a chapter a day and I'm so so so sorry for taking longer than that, but I'm really sick and can't think straight most of the day (I just finished writing this at 1am). I promise I'll try to finish this until Christmas. I hope you all like it, though <3 pls tell me if it sucks.

part 1 part 2 part 3

The rich vanilla scent of something sweet, the empty bed beside you, water running, Liv’s giggles, James’ footsteps. Any one of those things could have woken you. Even though you knew there were a few more minutes before your alarm went off, the noises were a comfort, ones you hadn’t heard in a long while. Ones you did not know if you would hear again after this holiday season. So, you sat there and absorbed it, every little crumb you could catch through the door.

As your daughter’s giggles got closer, you closed your eyes and pretended to be asleep. Liv loved waking you up, so you always let her think she did. Whispers were exchanged before the door to your bedroom opened.

“Mommy” she whispered, caressing your face “wake up, we have a surprise for you.”

Your eyes opened to a pair identical to your husband’s, the same kind, melancholy, piercing steel that reached your soul. Leaning against the door frame, food tray in hand, James watched you both. There was uncertainty in his eyes. Can I come in or not? They whispered. You didn’t know the answer, so you looked back at Liv.

“Good morning, angel” you smiled and pulled her onto the bed, hugging her tightly. Her giggles filled the room as you tickled her sides “What surprise do you have for me?” you asked once she calmed down.

“Show her, daddy.” She jumped on the bed and James finally came in, slowly and unsteady, to his side of the bed.

After lowering the tray with a tight-lipped smile, he clasped his hands behind his back. Waiting. His military training never quite leaving him. To others, it might seem like a residue habit, but you knew he acted like this when he wanted to keep his shield up. He was upset.

He has no right to be. That voice resonated in your head. And it was right. He was the one who never showed up, the one who stopped touching you, loving you. The one who walked away from this marriage, from his own family, the second things got hard. He was like a ghost, you knew he was there in the dead of night and sometimes left tracks behind, but you never actually saw him. Now it felt like you were being haunted, seeing him in broad daylight, close enough to touch. When was the last time you gazed into his eyes? The last time you saw the light stroke his hair to reveal auburn streaks? The last time you both stopped for long enough to actually look at each other?

“We made pancakes with maple syrup and coffee” Olivia said, and you realized just how long you and James had been staring at one another “Mommy, do you like it?”

Peeling your eyes away from your husband, forced the most natural smile possible “I love it, sweetie. Thank you so much.” You kissed her forehead before looking back at James “And thank you, daddy.”

“You’re welcome.” He nodded, a faint blush painting his cheeks.

God, he was beautiful. You missed this, you missed him. There was so much you wanted to say. You wanted to yell at him, and kiss him, and ask so many questions, then hit him, but then kiss him better again. You wanted any excuse to put your hands on him.

Maybe I’m making a mistake. You thought gingerly.

But then his phone rang, and he said he had to take it outside. Then he left. Again. For what most probably was a work call.

Or not, the anxiety whispered, what would he have to hide from work?

Forcing yourself to believe it was paranoia, remembering that his clients were confidential, and that Liv had school, you brought yourself back to the present. It didn’t even matter anyways, in twelve days you would start the divorce process and all of this would be over.

“Have you eaten?” you asked Liv.

She gave you a sheepish grin and you already knew she had eaten the batter while they were making it.

“What?” you poked, matching her smile. You couldn’t help it, she was just too cute.

“I ate the batter.” She whisper-shouted and hid her head in the pillow.

You stifled a laugh and questioned whether or not she was still hungry, the answer being no. Hand in hand, you took your daughter to her room, leaving her to pick out her outfit of the day while you grabbed her lunch from the fridge and filled her water bottle. After a few minutes, she walked out with her still- tangled hair, a hideous Christmas sweater and pink leggings. Nothing matched, yet it was so authentically Olivia.

“Did you brush your teeth?”

Her answer was running back into her room. No, then. You were leaving her things by the door when James came back in.

“Do you want me to drop her off?” he asked quietly, putting his phone back into his pocket.

“No need, I’m taking her then meeting Wanda for coffee after she drops off Billy and Tommy.” You say, rushing into your room to change into something presentable. Since you were already off work, there was no need to dress business, so you picked out the first gym set you saw. Navy pants and jacket, along with a white top, that hugged your curves perfectly. You remembered James saying he loved how it made you look months ago. He also showed you how it made him feel. It had been a particularly good nailing. To the counter, then against the wall, the bed… You wondered if he still remembered, if you still turned him on.

He was staring at it like maybe he did, but you couldn’t be sure. You were never sure when it came to him these days. The silence was getting far too loud, him just standing against the door looking all gorgeous and delectable, looking at you. It made you feel like when you met him all over again. Not quite certain if he hated you or wanted to fuck your brains out. It always made you say the most awkward things, like the phrase that came out of your mouth before you could help yourself.

“You could tag along if you want” you offered a smile “Though I don’t know if Wanda would want to say certain girl things in front of you, so maybe we could get you a seat by the window, a few tables away from us. I could still get you a macchiato, though. Maybe even something with cinnamon, I don’t know if they still have it, but it would be quite festive, right? I might just get myself a tall glass of Christmas. Christmas in a cup. What rhymes with Christmas?”

You couldn’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth, you usually couldn’t when you were nervous. And you were. This was your best friend, your husband, but also a stranger you weren’t sure you recognized, someone you would soon only have one tie left with.

His eyes gleamed as he looked at you, looking almost in awe, an almost smile creeping in. That is, before he remembered his phone call.

“I wish I could, doll, I really do. But that was Stark on the phone”

“Right.” You nodded curtly, tongue against your front teeth, trying your hardest not to pick a fight over the same topic over and over again. Walking into the bathroom, you slammed the door and started to change.

There it was, the reason you were unhappy in the first place. Your husband was a workaholic. He had a problem, and he did not know how to set boundaries when it came to his boss. He was supposed to be home, with his family, and there he went back. Couldn’t even wait a whole day before giving up on giving his daughter a happy holiday.

“I’m sorry.” He said against the door.

“Yeah, you keep saying that.” You spat out, wiping a stray tear and zipping up your jacket.

“I mean it. You won’t even notice I’m gone. I’ll be back before you know it, before you’re home. I promise”

You opened the door, revealing your husband leaning against it with those same kicked puppy eyes. So unfair considering he was the one doing all the kicking. You should be the one with the adorable puppy eyes. Fucking unfair that you couldn’t stay mad at him when you looked at them. So, you didn’t, you looked anywhere but his eyes. You wanted to stay mad. You couldn’t back out, especially now that you knew he would never change.

“I really don’t care, James. Stay, go, never come back for all I care” You tied your hair in the best ponytail you could muster to keep you busy “You’re never here and we’re doing just fine without you anyways.”

You knew it hit a nerve and you were too scared to look at just how sad he was, so you grabbed your things and met Liv, who waited patiently on the couch. You truly hoped she hadn’t heard anything. You were, after all, doing this for her. With both your jackets, gloves, and scarves on, Liv waves goodbye to her father, who wished her a good day. When she just smiled and grabbed your hand to lead you out the door, you knew everything would be okay. Even if you weren’t.

You relied solely on muscle memory to drop her off since your head was miles away.

“Why was daddy home today?” she asked when you were nearing the school.

Pondering your choices, you glanced at Liv. Should you tell her or not? Would James keep up his end of the bargain or would you both be disappointed again? The last thing you wanted was for your daughter to be sad. He did promise, though…

“Your dad is going to be working a little less during the holidays.” You decided was good enough “He wants to spend more time with you.”

“Really?” she beamed “Oh, we could go ice skating, make gingerbread cookies, watch the grinch, and put up the tree. It’s going to be so much fun.”

You hoped so, you truly did.

“Why don’t you make a list of things you want to do with us before the holidays end and give it to me after school?”

She nodded profusely, grin never leaving her face, and you couldn’t help but smile along with her. Being a mother wasn’t always easy but seeing that you managed to make your child happy made it all worthwhile.

 “Alright, time to go” you said, putting your car in neutral and handing Liv her lunch “Have fun, be nice, and learn a lot, okay?”

“Okay, mamma.” She blew you a kiss as she left and you drove off to meet with Wanda for your weekly coffee date.

Wanda was an unexpected friendship, one of those who came out of the blue. She had just moved into town with her husband and twins, but the other moms apparently thought she was ‘too weird’ and someone heard rumors she was a witch. You happened to think there was no such thing as too weird and that witched were quite cool. She turned out to be an incredibly sensitive soul and amazing friend. So, their loss.

The sweet aromas of ground coffee bean, vanilla, caramel, and pastries filled your nose as soon as you stepped into Sweet Tooth, the town’s renown bakery. Known for their amazing seasonal beverages, fluffy cakes, litany of focaccia flavors, and Peggy – the owner and best baker this town has seen. It also helped that the place was a cozy little slice of heaven. You could choose a seat by the window and watch the snow fall as the coffee went cold, or maybe you preferred a place on one of the burgundy couches, the mahogany counters were also nice when you were in a hurry. Either way, there was always a place for you, and Wanda had already found yours for the morning.

“Hi.” She waved you over with a smile, scrunching her nose in delight “It’s so good to see you.”

“You have no idea how good it is to see you.” You said, bringing her into a tight hug.

“What’s going on?” she asked, sitting down on the couch.

Should you tell her or was it too personal? Your mother always did say that a couples’ business was only their own. But she was miles away and your marriage was falling apart. You weren’t even sure if you could be considered a couple anymore. Everything was so confusing.

“It’s a long story.” You settled with.

“I’ve got nothing but time.” She smiled warmly, caressing your hand “Besides, the coffee will be here any minute and I ordered some cinnamon rolls to go with it as well as some Parma focaccia. We’re in for a Christmas brunch here.”

You nodded, gathering your thoughts, but nothing came out except for “James and I are getting divorced.”

“What?” She gasped “Oh, sweetie, what did he do? Did he cheat?”

“No.”

“Did he hurt you? Oh, I swear I’ll end him if he did.” She said, rage in her eyes.

“No, nothing like that.” You were sure he never could.

She turned her head to the side “Then, what?”

“Well, it sounds kind of silly now…” you admitted, sudden tears brewing in your eyes.

“(y/n), sweetie,” she held both your hands, scooting closer “nothing that makes you feel bad is ever silly.”

“I just…” you looked at the ceiling trying not to cry “I feel so alone, like there is only one person in this marriage. He’s never home, we barely even talk anymore, he hasn’t touched me in months, and I just feel like… Like maybe he fell out of love with me a long time ago but is too afraid or too stubborn to tell me and end this once and for all. To let us both be free, be happy. So I told him yesterday night that I wanted a divorce.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said that he’d sign the papers after the holidays were over. We’re giving Liv one last Christmas as a family before we have to share her between Christmas, New Years, Easter, birthdays and god knows what else.” Leaning forwards and resting your head between your hands, you wondered what you could have done differently “This is a mess I never wanted.”

“No one ever wants to be divorced,” she stroked your back “But it’s his loss. I know it’s a cliché to say it, but it’s true. You are a remarkable woman. You are smart, kind, incredibly beautiful, and, in the time I have known you, proved to be a beautiful soul with a heart of gold. If he can’t see that, if he doesn’t want you, then he truly is losing the most amazing woman he could have ever asked for. So, his loss.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you hugged her tightly. Wanda held you, hand running up and down your back in an attempt to warm up your soul.

“If there is ever anything I can do to help, you tell me, okay?”

You nodded against her hair, that shined copper in the daylight. “Thank you for being here, for helping me through this.”

“Of course,” she smiled and rubbed your shoulders “that’s what friends are for.”

Wanda walking into your life was a blessing you didn’t know what you did to deserve, but you would be forever grateful for her. Good or bad days, she was always here. Gossips sessions, crying sessions, trauma dumps, – and now divorces – there was no theme she could not cover, no day she couldn’t brighten with a nose scrunch and an open heart.

“I think that’s us” she said before the barista called out her name “Stay put. I’ll be right back, and we’ll start planning a girl’s trip for next year. God knows we both need a rest from men and cleaning up toys.”

Ain’t that the truth. You thought. A girl’s trip to somewhere with no men, the peace of mind that comes with not having to worry about your husband… maybe even a new vibrator. Something with lots of fancy functions that promises the best orgasm of your life. Yeah, you could get used to that. Maybe being single again wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

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divider by @bernardsbendystraws

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[vivwritesfics]

Sleepless

She's struggling to sleep, and it's all Bucky's fault

warnings: violence, choking, nightmares, angst

Her hands clawed at his wrist, trying to pry his metal hand away from her neck. As desperate as she was to suck in deep breaths, air wasn't reaching her lungs. Oh God, she was so damn dizzy.

There he stood before her, mask covering his mouth. His dark hair hung limp around his face and his blue eyes stared at her, furious. Metal fingers wrapped around her neck, his grip bruising. He was gonna kill her, and he didn't even care.

"Please," she gasped as she dropped her hands away from his wrist. But she just couldn't hold on anymore.

"Bucky!"

His head whipped to the left. A second later he dropped her, body falling as he released her neck. Even as she hit the ground she was sucking in desperate gasps of air as her attacker ran.

She awoke with a gasp, desperately trying to suck in deep breaths. Her hand was against her chest but, every time she shut her eyes, she saw her attacker.

"Doll?" Her husband asked, voice groggy as he reached towards her. But the moment his metal fingers brushed against the skin of her thigh, she was flinching away.

Bucky sat up at that. He couldn't hide the flash of hurt in his eyes, but he couldn't exactly blame her.

He didn't remember what he'd done, didn't remember who or what he was during that stage of his life. He wasn't Bucky. He was some mindless beast who killed whoever got between him and his mission.

They met again a good few years after this. He was a different person when they met again. He was Bucky Barnes, a war hero (several times over), a soldier, and a man who had celebrated his one hundred and something birthday.

The bruises had long since faded from her neck when she met him again. She hadn't forgotten the man that had choked her, but she hadn't seen enough of his face to pick him out in the crowd. But still, she'd never forget the way his hair fell around his face, just how angry his eyes were.

She didn't recognise him and Bucky didn't recognise her, even once he'd helped clean the coffee that he'd spilled on her. (Now, you might be thinking, how didn't she see his arm and freak? It wasn't something Bucky liked to just have out and about as he walked around. No, he wore long sleeves and had a single, leather glove covering his hand. His hair was cut and his eyes were so sweet). He asked her on a date and the rest was, well, history.

Even on the date, Bucky wore long sleeves and that glove. He saw her gaze lingering on his hand, but she didn't ask. And Bucky wasn't ready to tell.

She didn't find out until the first time she took him back to her apartment. Her legs were wrapped around him as he stumbled back into her couch, sitting down and placing her on his lap. Groans left his lips as she kissed down his neck.

But then he stopped her, gently pulled her away. "Doll," he said as his flesh hand cradled her head. "I need to show you something."

It was early in the relationship, but it was something Bucky couldn't hide anymore. He picked her up from his lap and sat her down beside him.

His leg bounced and he dug his nails into his thighs. "Before I show you, I need to explain," he said. He tried to being his sentence a couple of times over, but it wasn't happening. Giving up, he let out a sigh, head dropping forward. "Have you ever heard of the Winter Soldier?"

A dry laugh left her lips. "Are you kidding me, Buck? That psycho tried to kill me," she said as she looked at him, head falling against the back of the sofa.

He swallowed, mouth dry. But he had to keep going.

Slowly, Bucky began peeling off his gloves off of his fingers. "The Winter Soldier is an ordinary man," Bucky began, unable to meet her eye. "The ordinary side of him doesn't know what the Winter Soldier side of him has done. He doesn't know the people he's hurt, doesn't know the ways in which he's hurt them."

He slipped his shoulder down and a gasp left her lips. "No," she gasped, backing away from him.

"Doll, I swear I've never hurt you. I'm not the Winter Soldier," he said quickly. But he didn't reach towards her. "It's.. hard to explain. But I'm not the Winter Soldier. I need you to know that it wasn't me."

It took a lot of time, but Bucky explained it to her. They had to start things again. So early in their relationship and they had to start everything again. But Bucky was willing. As long as she had him, he was gonna do whatever he could to keep it that way.

Here they were a year later.

Clarity overcame her features as she looked down at Bucky. "Fuck," she hissed and wiped at her eyes. "I'm sorry, Buck. I-I had a nightmare."

He sat up slightly. His arms were open, allowing her to crawl inside of them and rest against him if she wanted to. "I know, Doll," he said. Her eyes moved to his metal hand as he own hand reached forwards her throat, feeling for the phantom bruises that had disappeared so long ago.

For a moment she just sat there, knees tucked up to her chest and her cheek resting against her knee. The sight broke Bucky's heart.

What were you meant to do when you were the person that terrified the love of your life more than anything? Bucky wiped his hand over his face and climbed out of the bed. He pulled shorts up his legs to cover himself up and headed out to the kitchen.

She watched him go and her heart dropped. She was fucking everything, and she knew it. Fuck, she loved this man so much. Everything was fine while she was awake, but the moment she shut her eyes, she was terrified.

"Shit," she groaned and wiped her eyes again. She climbed out of bed and grabbed a hold of Bucky's shirt. Pulling it over her head, she pulled it up to her nose and breathed in.

And then she set off, bare feet padding against the floor as she headed to the kitchen. "Buck," she called as she walked down the hall and into the kitchen.

There Bucky was, sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee. "It's the middle of the night," she muttered as she walked over and pulled the cup away from him. "You're not gonna be able to sleep."

He looked at her, but his expression was unreadable. "Bucky," she tried as she stepped into his arms. He didn't move to wrap his arms around her, and her heart leapt into her throat. "I-I love you. You know that, right?"

He gave a nod. "I know, Doll," he mumbled and stood up. "Want me to get you some water?"

Her hand reached up to cup his jaw. "I want you to tell me you love me," she said, head cocked to the side.

Bucky brought his flesh hand up to rest over her own. "I love you, Doll." He to a pause to suck in a breath. "I just wish it wasn't me that you're scared of."

"Buck, I know I'm scared of him, not you. I know you're not him."

She reached down to take his metal hand in her own. Bringing it up to her lips, she kissed his thumb. "You're my everything, Buck," she whispered and dropped his hand. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him. This time, Bucky let his arms wrap around her.

No man had ever looked at her with so much love in his eyes. He dropped his forehead against her own. "I can sleep on the couch tonight," he offered.

"Don't you fucking dare."

A small grin split across his face. "Yes ma'am."