#I’m a filthy simp

[katiestardoodles]

My typical YouTube experience

[jellie-bean]

giggling and kicking my feet over Erend’s route in Focus on the Heart

The art? Stunning. The characterization? Impeccable. The story? Intriguing.

My partner had to listen to me squeal over that big beefy dork the entire time lolol

[top-shelf-tender-moved]

{{My love for Husk can be encapsulated perfectly in The Noise™ that St. Peter makes during Welcome to Heaven.}}

[shina-moon-art]

Pokemon has been on the mind

[quokkabite]

YOUR PFP OF LINO SMILING HAS ME WEEEEAAAK 😭😭😭

yeah, no. i hear you. i feel you. this man deserves the world. and honestly i think we can all be really normal about it and not feel any certain type of way. i know i can 🙂

[nose-nippin-fun]

If ya’ll haven’t seen @varianleafcreates illustration of Husk in a corset on Instagram…I just really think you should, oh LORDT I need to lie down HHHHHHHH 🥵

[eddiesxangel]

That’s that me, Espresso | rockstar!eddie

@mmunson86 requested: I can’t stop thinking about rockstar!Eddie x pop!Princess! reader! & its all thanks to miss SC & Espresso! Imagine they are at one of her concerts right right & she has Eddie sit in the middle of the stage! she is about to debut this song its the last song for the night and she dances on him , for him , around him & Eddie is loosing his mind so right after the concert he wastes no time and takes her into the dressing room & the rest well you know the rest 🙂‍↔️💗

Cw: modern au, Rockstar!Eddie x Pop!princes wife reader. Age gap, Eddie is a filthy simp for his girl, soft!Dom Eddie (sir), oral (f receiving), p in v (unprotected), small bit of anal fingering. Talks of pregnancy.

2.3kwords

We are back baby!!! From the Wildflower universe, if you want more of the lore on these two.

“You ready, Angel?” Your husband smiles at you.

Husband, it still has a nice ring to it. You’ve been married just under a year. Giving birth to your little one put the wedding on the back burner, but you started the wedding planning once Lila Rose was 7 months old.

“Yeah, I think so,” you smile. You’re already in your hair and makeup, just waiting for your turn to get on stage.

The rowdy crowd of music festival goers grow impatient as the crew tirelessly works to remove the previous acts' set design.

“You think they’re going to like the new song?” You fiddle with the bedazzled mic in your hands.

“You kidding me? They’re going to love it!”

Eddie always encouraged your work, even if it wasn’t his thing. He loved every song because it was yours.

“All performers take their mark,” you hear the stage director in your ear.

You give Eddie one quick kiss and make your way to the stage.

The set went perfectly, but the riding anticipation of the new single was still in the back of your mind.

“Okay, Coachella! I’m going to need you to help me out with something.” You smile. “This is my last song of the night, and it’s brand new, so I’m a bit nervous.” You pace the stage.

“Now I have a special someone backstage with me, and I know he won’t come out unless we pressure him, so I’m going to need your help, okay?” you walk over to side stage and look him in the eye

You knew he would kill you, but you needed him for the extra moral support, and you kinda had a plan up your sleeve.

“Come on out, Eddie, baby,” you smile, and the crow starts to chant Eddie’s name.

Feeling embarrassed and a bit proud of you for getting what you wanted. Eddie stocks onto the stage, giving a small wave, not wanting this to be about him.

“Sit,” you speak into the mic and point to the fold-out chair in centre stage.

Eddie sits, and before he can protest anymore, he hears the first few beats of the music.

“Nice,” you sing in your breathy tone your husband can’t get enough of.

Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo

Eddie really loved that last lyric. He thought it was very clever of you because he knew it was about him and how he eats you out.

Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso.

You and your dancers moved to the beat without missing a step.

I can't relate to desperation My 'give a fucks' are on vacation And I got this one boy

You turn to your husband and wink.

And he won't stop calling

You take a few short steps around to the back of the chair.

When they act this way

You lean in from behind and run your free hand down his shoulder to his chest and back up.

I know I got 'em

You swear you hear him moan.

I'm working late 'cause I'm a singer

You twirl your hair around your finger, then summon Eddie to come closer.

Oh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger

He gets up and follows you like a puppy as you strut across the stage. My twisted humor, make him laugh so often My honey bee, come and get this pollen.

You flick up the edge of your mini skirt, and Eddie can see the lacy underwear beneath your stockings.

He needs this song to be over so he can finally have you. You've been rehearsing for this moment for months now. Stressing over it and with the baby, you and him have had hardly any time to have sex like you used to.

He's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso

Eddie is back in his seat by the second bridge, and your dancing is driving him absolutely crazy. You know what you are doing. He can see it in your eyes; your mischievous gaze tells him you had this all planned out. You probably faked being nervous just to get him out here so you could seduce him.

Eddie was losing the battle of not getting hard in front of the thousands of fans watching. He couldn't help it; his bombshell of a wife was so irresistible.

Is it that sweet? I guess so That's that me, espresso

Eddie listened as you thanked the crowd. He took your hand and yanked you off stage once he thought it had been enough time for your final bow, letting you soak in this moment before he whisked you away.

“Eddie!” You squeal while trying to keep up with him in your platform go-go boots.

“Gotta have, you know,” he growls in your ear so only you can hear.

“Really baby? I worked you up that much?” You swoon.

After all this time, Eddie still makes your heart flutter. You never thought soulmates existed, but when you met Eddie, all that changed- especially after having his baby. The way he was with your newborn had you wanting to jump his bones before the doctor okayed you for sex again.

The trailer was close but not close enough in Eddie’s eyes. A thin sheen of sweat was starting to form on Eddie’s brow, and he couldn’t tell if it was from the hot Californian sun or the fact that his cock was about to bust through his jeans, and he was trying not to have anyone notice.

“Get out,” Eddie commands as the trailer door swings back. Eddie opens it so hard.

Your team looks startled as you and Eddie enter the small space.

You give them an apologetic look and they place down their stuff and leave you both alone.

“You were perfect up there.” he pulls you in for a kiss. “So fucking proud of you.” He kisses down your neck.

“Mmmm, thank you, baby”

“You’re a goddamn succubus, you know that, Angel?” Eddie shuts the door behind them and locks it before drawing the blinds.

“Is that right? Mr. Munson.”

“Oh, it is, Mrs. Munson.” Eddie pulls you in by the waist for a heated kiss. Still, after all this time, you both were so greedy for one another. Nothing can ever break the bond between the both of you… not again.

“God, Angel, you were a goddamn tease on that stage; you got me looking like a simp.”

You pull back, curious as to where he had heard that term.

“Simp?”

“VR tells me things.” Violet Rose, Eddie's oldest, whom you’ve adopted, is now twenty two.

“Okay, old man,” you giggle, and he walks you back to the sofa in the trailer’s back corner.

“Enough talking, more kissing.”

Your tailored dress, made just for you, was not easy to strip. Eddie was having a hell of a time trying to get out of it, only to groan when he saw your pantyhose as another barrier.

“Why do they make these things so tight.” He grumbles as you giggle at him.

“You weren’t complaining about it ten minutes ago,” you snide.

“Don’t make me put you over my knee.” He smirks.

“No, Sir,” you put your lip.

Finally, once you are out of your garments, Eddie kneels right between your legs.

“Baby, you’re going to hurt your knees,” You push his long hair back. “Why don’t we go -OH - to the couch” Not listening, his lips are already on your throbbing cunt.

The plus from your clit was relieved as Eddie’s tongue grazes it before quickly lapping and flicking at it.

“Oh fuck!” Your legs buckle, and your grip on Eddie’s hair tightens. He growls at the pain in his scalp, but he loves it all the same.

You feel his tongue go down, then to the left, then the right and finally circles your clit.

“Mmmmm, tastes so good, Angel”

“Please don’t stop!”

You feel Eddie's skilled tongue glide through your slick folds before you feel his hands nudge your legs, signalling to open them wider.

Eddie’s thick long fingers pump up into your warm wet cunt until you’re losing the battle to say upright. Your body is hunched over as Eddie sends waves of pleasure through you.

“Mmmm, that’s it, that’s my good girl. Cum for me.” The pads of his fingers graze you g spot each time. He doesn’t stop until he knows you are satisfied.

“That was a big one, baby; singing for me, go, you all worked up, didn’t it?” He stands and leads you to the couch until you’re lying down, legs spread nice and wide for him.

“Mmmhmmm,” you hum as you watch Eddie finally strip.

His body never looked better; he wants to be the healthiest to watch your baby grow up and maybe put another one in you soon.

“You ready for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir, more than ready.” And it was true; it’s been a few weeks since you’ve had time to have sex, and it was long overdue.

All the pent-up sexual tension between the both of you is finally being released when Eddie's hard cock slides into yours effortlessly.

“Fuck I missed my pussy, baby girl.” His head tilts back, and you take the opportunity to suck on his neck, just as you know he likes it.

“So fucking beautiful” his cock pumped in and quickly backed out.

The tip of his dick ring never failed to make you see stars. Already you’re a moaning mess for him, cock drunk, and it’s not even been a minute yet.

“There she is, there’s my good girl” Eddie palms your tit as he continues to thrust deep inside of you. He watches your eyes roll to the back of your head, blissed out by how he makes you feel.

“More” you moan.

“More what?”

“Sir, please, I need you. Baby, I love you. I love you, please, I need it.” You babble.

Eddie's heart swells. He loves you so much he would give you the moon and stars if he could. Hearing you love him, especially when the two of you are like this, really makes him kick into high gear.

He will never take for granted those three words when you say them to him; your past is too painful not to.

“Tell me what you need, baby girl.”

“Fill me.” You pull him down into a kiss. Your tongue explores his mouth.

His hand that was planted on your waist is now travelling lower to your ass.

“This what you wanted, baby? All of your holes filled?” His finger teases your puckered hole.

“Yes!” You gasp.

“I think that can be arranged. Suck” he points his finger at your face, and you take as much of it in your mouth. You suck on it until it’s dripping with your saliva.

“Such a dirty girl, letting me fuck you and play with your ass hole.” His finger slowly glides in, and he pumps it to match the rhythm of his thrusts. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir!”

“God, I love you.” Eddie can’t help but to fuck you frivolously. The sound of wet skin slapping together filled the thin walls of the trailer.

“Please, please, please.” You were so close you could feel the pit building.

The pressure of his piercing brushing your g spot with every heavy thrust, each shape snap of his hips making him slide deep inside-mixed with the pressure of his finger pressed deep inside of you was bringing you to the edge of bliss.

“You going to come when I tell you to, Angel?”

“I can’t-can’t hold it!”

“Yes, you can,” he growls.

“F-fuck,” you curse him. You can’t hold it for much longer.

“Mmm, that’s right, babygirl. You’re going to listen to what I tell you.”

Your pussy naturally grips Eddie's cock so tight he almost loses it.

“Please, Sir. I want to cum. Please!”

The look in your eyes has Eddie reeling. The way you beg and submit to him, his perfect girl. His perfect wife, the perfect mother to his children.

“Cum” he growls, and you let out a cry of relief.

With your arms wrapped around the back of Eddie's neck, you pull him down into you on instinct. His body weight pressed into you, and your cunt grips his cock so deliciously Eddie is coming with you.

“Shit, baby girl, I think you nearly killed me that time,” Eddie chuckles as his legs give out and his total weight collapses on top of you.

You giggle dumbly as Eddie plants kisses all over your face.

You look up; his face is red and sweaty, but he’s never looked more beautiful.

“That was long overdue.” You sigh with relief.

“You’re telling me,” he chuckles with you.” “Let’s get you cleaned up, mama.”

“You trying to knock me up, Munson?” Deep down, you’d love to have another baby.

“What if I was?” He looks back over his shoulder, catching you checking out his juicy ass.

“Then I’d say we should keep practicing.”

“Wait for real?”

“You’re no,t getting any younger, “ you giggle.

“Oh, you little minx, you’re in for it.” He runs back towards you, lifts you off the couch, and plops you in his lap.

“I’m sorry!” You laugh as Eddie tickles your sides.

“You really want to start trying?” He asks genuinely.

“Yeah,” you nod.

“Guess it’s time for round two, gotta make sure it really sticks.”

Tags: @xxbimbobunnyxx @eddiesghxst @niallerlover8022 @eddiesguitarskills @all-dogs-die

@mimsie95 @mystargirl-interlude @rip-quizilla @munsonology @ali-r3n

@callsignraver @allthingsjoeq @ceriseheaven @amira0303 @mmunson86

@lofaewrites @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @lokis-army-77 @hellfiremunsonn

@hellfirenacht @oneforthemunny @lma1986 @mimsie95 @straykeeks

@crazycat-ladys-blog @starksbabie @hellfire--cult @goth-cowgirl-03 @dashingdeb16

@slayyymisha @xblueriddlex @kellsck @localemofreak @goodbyegh0st

@nope-thanks @nabiiturner @neurospicynugget @micheledawn1975 @mikromoon

@corrodedcoffincumslut @http-dilflvr @paybacksawitch

[washeduphazbin]

Adam NSFW Alphabet

Here ya go, ya filthy simps.

First time doing a nsfw alphabet so if it’s … bad I’m sorry. Lmk how to improve tho

--Minors DNI--

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

At the beginning of the relationship, I don't think this man knew what aftercare was; I mean, there's a reason Lilith left him. Let's be honest. It would take a learning curve and a lot of explaining from you about your needs after sex until he'd realize how important it really was.

Once he got the idea down, he'd be religious with it every time after sex, he'd ask, "What the fuck you needed to feel extra sexy."

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

What isn't his favorite body part? Toss up between Boobs, Ass, and Thighs, he loves them all. If you held a gun to his head, he'd say your boobs, big or small, he would NOT CARE. He wants them in his mouth.

Small boobie queens, he'd squeeze them like little stress balls when he's annoyed or anxious.

Big boobie queens, pillows. Need I say more. Calls them bazoingas unironically.

Type of guy to stand next to you talking to Lute and reach out and just squeeze your tits, letting out a HONK. Lute would roll her eyes with a snicker as you flushed, while Adam would look at you with the biggest shit-eating grin.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

This guy's cum is thick. milky and warm.

Beads at the tip when you turn him on and likes to cum deep inside you, filling you entirely or on your tits or ass.

Will stare hotly as both your cum spills out of you, as you whimper and whine, usually making him ready for round two.

When you suck him off, he enjoys watching it spill from your lips instead of you swallowing.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Adam has one main secret (idk if it qualifies as dirty) but enjoys genuine praise for things he feels proud of accomplishing. It's not like you praising him for exterminating sinners; it's just simple, innocent praise when he does something particularly sweet for you.

A big softie, but only in private and only to you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's a fuckboy. Sorry, not sorry, he just is. HOWEVER, it doesn't mean he is a star at sex. He's decent at first, but there's a reason Lucifer stole two of his wives. His biggest gripe was he didn't want to reciprocate head, but you broke him off that relatively quick when you squeezed your thighs around his skull for the first time, practically double-killing him.

It was fuckin' hot.

You both have a lot to learn, but you learn together, and the sex is still angelic.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He has two:

He enjoys cowboy/girl because he's lazy and likes to watch your tits bounce in front of his face.

He also enjoys doggy style, so he can see your ass bounce as he pounds into you, biting your ass cheeks as he goes and slapping.

G = Goofy (are they more severe in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Goofy. He does not shut his mouth; he always has something to say as he's getting intimate with you. It's safe to say he never stops talking, which means he's very vocal about moans, whines, and grunts. It's safe to say he has no filter regarding you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Pretty basic, but the carpet matches the drapes. However, he could be better- groomed. It's safe to say he's definitely hairy, not just there but all over.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

Although Adam is definitely more goofy, as discussed earlier, I think sex is intimate and essential to him. While he can be silly, he works his ass and dick off to make sure it's the best sex you've ever had. Oddly enough, when he's alone with you and in a soft mood, he always romantically initiates sex.

Slow and sensual kisses lead to heated make-outs and biting before turning into more.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I think Adam is on the more hypersexual side of the spectrum if you see sex as a spectrum like I tend to. So, if you're not around for some reason, he will probably be cranking one out sometimes more than once a day. Honestly, even if you are around and you're not feeling sex at the moment, he'll pout, but ultimately, go watch whatever heavens' equivalent to porn.

(or videos he's recorded of the two of you ;) )

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I think Adam would have three main kinks:

Breeding - "All of humanity came from this dick."

Mommy Kink - need I explain more? Dominant women are such a significant turn-on for him; one look when you're in Dommy Mommy mode, and he's on his knees.

Role-Play- If you don't think he'd make you cosplay and act like Sinner who is trying to redeem themselves just for him to role play fucking redemption into you, your opinion is just incorrect. Sorry.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere and Everywhere. He doesn't care; if people see good let them know you're both hot as fuck. They're probably green with envy.

His favorite place, though, is on his desk in his office. The thrill of getting caught lights a fire in him that can't be snuffed out without burying himself in your cunt.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

I feel like we discussed this one a lot, but I can add a few more. When you're mad at something Hell did or another resident of Heaven. Also, when defending him, think of the "He asked for no pickles" meme, but it's you asking for Adam.

Oh, and of course, you are in any type of lingerie, punk rock, or revealing clothing.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Piss, Poop, ya know the classics. He'd also never want to seriously hurt you, maybe a light slap here and there, maybe a little choking, but if he ever hurts you in the act, he's flaccid so quick and on you like a mother hen.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

As stated earlier, his preference is receiving; he loves the way you look between his thighs and his thick cock in your mouth. Drool and pre-cum leaking from your lips.

But he has gotten more open to giving and isn't...great, but you're teaching him how to work his tongue and fingers.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He sets a fast and rough pace, hits you deep in your canal, and kisses your cervix, almost like he's trying to hit your womb. He's a feral beast honestly once he starts fucking you and it'd take an act of God to get him to stop.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

All the time though not super preferred, He likes to tease you as much as he can before letting you cum, but most of the time you have sex, it's out of the house. It's a constant struggle to keep your hands off one another and, more often than not, sneak off for a quick fuck somewhere before rejoining a meeting, hangout or if Adam needs immediate stress relief.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

So long as it's not on his list of hard no's, I feel like Adam will try anything once if you ask. He's for sure a risk taker and wants you to challenge him with something new, but in the end prefers classic sex.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

He can last only two rounds, but they usually last. A very long time because he likes to be a little shit.

T = Toys (do they own toys or use them on a partner or themselves?)

He does not own toys, and if you have them and use them, he will absolutely be jealous of them and attempt to make you trash them. But if you say no, he'll respect it. Just be extremely salty.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh, he's a brat. It is so unfair that it will test you pretty much through the entire process. He enjoys seeing how much he can overstimulate and edge you before he finally fucks you raw.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

So fucking loud. God bless your neighbors if you have any. His groans and moans could shake the entire house, and your whines, whimpers, and pleas for 'harder' aren't any better.

He also laughs a lot.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I think he loves to mark you up to prove to everyone that you are his and his alone. I think it would start with a shit ton of hickies, then a joke from Lute saying he should just collar you until he actually does. It's classy and elegant, matches his angelic robes, and has spikes.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

So I absolutely headcanon him with a dad bod (sorry, not sorry); I think he also has significant arm and chest hair and a particularly drool-worthy happy trail. He's squishy and you love it even though he can be a little insecure about it at times, you just tell him you love him no matter his shape or size.

He is your Teddy Bear.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

HYPERSEXUAL. HIGH. THIS MAN WANTS SOME FUCK.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Passes out quickly afterward and can't go more than two rounds max. Likes to sleep right after but has learned to check on you first before passing out on your tits or chest.

[moodymisty]

Typing this in the basement while a tornado goes over nearby

🥴🥴🥴🥴 I love this

Perturabo is the type of guy to want to be called daddy in bed 😭😭

And i would gladly fulfill that desire of his, because if we consult the chart

I would call that man daddy with absolutely no shame or qualms about it. i would do it with a gusto that would concern him

[solbaby7]

Forbidden Fruit

pairing: cassian x rhysand’s sister!reader

warnings: sneaking around, suggestive language, swearing, possible sexual content either way minors DNI, mutual pining, a simping Cass and a meddling Az

summary: The General Commander of the Night Court finds himself falling for the High Lords precious little sister.

—

Cassian knew better.

He was smarter than this—had better self-control and discipline than hundreds of thousands of men combined but all of that crumbles to ash the second you come prancing past in those tight pants. The same ones that sat low on your hips paired with the skin tight sleeveless top that showed off the wink of your navel and the dangling piercing that resided there. “Your brother know about that?”

“Oh, Commander,” His jaw clenched at the title, the sing-song lilt of your voice and the bedroom eyes that raked down the giant length of his form. Never in his life had he ever felt so anxious under a woman’s gaze and he fights the urge to shift his weight from foot to foot. “You’d be positively baffled by the things my brother doesn’t know about.”

It was a taunt; perfectly manicured nails plucking at a string that was already seconds away from snapping. Even then, Cassian can’t seem to help himself and like a small animal with little sense of self-preservation—he’s caught in your trap. “Like what?” He clears his throat, the words coming out too soft, too desperate and yet he can’t find it in him to be embarrassed when you’re looking at him like that.

Dark lashes frame pretty eyes that trail down the length of his body, a feline smile on full lips. “I really wish I could say, General,” Never had his body reacted to his title in such a way; skin burning like a flame when it came from you, dark hair hanging over your shoulders and he wills his knees not to buckle when you stalk closer. A manicured finger just barely grazes the length of his bicep and he’s already fighting the growing erection beneath his breeches. “But, I just can’t be sure you’ll keep your mouth shut.”

“I won’t say anything.”

You raise a brow, head quirking to the side and you’re unabashedly aware of the fact that this wing of the house was utterly bare save for you and Cass. “I’m throwing a little party tomorrow,” His surprise is evident; as witty and seductive as you may be, it was common knowledge how responsible you were. The pressures of perfection always weighed heavier on a woman and you handled it well. “Come if you’d like but only you.”

“Where?”

There’s a mischievous glint in your eye, fingers toying with the hilt of the sword hung at his hip. “Can’t say—you’ll just have to find me.”

He’s stuck in place when you saunter off, hips swishing from side to side until you disappeared behind closed doors at the end of the hall. Cassian huffed out a shaky breath, a hand raking through slightly overgrown strands as he willed his heart to return to its normal rhythm but he was already a goner. Mind utterly consumed in all things you from the shimmering pin tucked in your hair or the shiny sheen glossing over pouty lips.

For twenty-four hours he’d obsessed over the smell of your soap until his focus was shifted to the breathy little grunts you offer when sparring in the ring the following morning. “You’re getting sloppy.”

“Because,” You huff, breathing labored, sweat dripping down your back and you’d long since tied your hair in a knot at the top of your head. “I’m tired and can’t stop thinking about food.” You get in a few good jabs but the exhaustion sets in much quicker for you than it did the Illyrian soldier.

The idea that sets into his mind is disgraceful; pupils dilating at the very thought and he nearly moans out loud when you bend over to grab your canteen. Stretchy shorts hug tight around the curve of your ass and Cass is already diving head first into filthy fantasies of you bent over just like that with his face shoved between your thighs. It feels so real his mouth actually waters, throat bobbing with a gulp and his hands clench into tight fists.

It's wrong.

He couldn't—shouldn't—be thinking such thoughts but it's like you're doing it on purpose. Body elongated and spine dipping when tugging off the sweat-soaked training top. Only left in a sports bra and the holsters that wrap along your wrist and forearm, holding two swords so sharp you could probably slice his head from his shoulders with the right amount of intent. Yet, for some reason it doesn't deter him; the lethality of you that was always kept contained like some secret weapon just waiting for their moment.

The shirt hits the floor with a wet shlop and before Cassian can form words, Azriel is brushing past him with a knowing glance. "We'll feed you after you fight me," Cassian hates the way his nose scrunches in jealousy, lip twitching to curve into a snarl at the easy banter that arises between the two of you. Azriel stalks you like prey, sharp eyes raking up the length of skin you have bared—even if he does do it significantly more subtle than Cass.

You offer a breathy laugh, throat moving over the large gulps of water before falling into stance. Its casual, body loose from the thorough warm-up and Cass feels his blood rush at the mischievous smirk growing in the corner of your mouth, eyes darting to the shadows beginning to circle you. "Shouldn't take too long," Confidence dripped off your tongue like hot honey. "If you play fair, that is."

Az slowly tilts his head to the side, acutely aware of the rage radiating off his brother from the edge of the ring. It doesn't deter him in the slightest, shoulders rolling and wings tucking in preparation as a breeze shifted through his hair. "What's the fun in that?"

It's annoyingly fluid and Cassian just can't quell the frustration; lips scowled in a sneer the closer you and Azriel got. It should've been him with his hands touching your skin; should be him making you grunt and snap out snarky remarks whenever you'd lost the upper hand. The General's jaw clenches, teeth gritting when Az slams you down on the mat, holding down your arms as you struggle beneath such weight. "That's fine," Azriel jokes, sun beating down on golden skin, shining across amber irises and the brilliance is nearly overwhelming—nearly. "I like 'em squirmy."

It happens so fast that even the shadows don't have time to react when a whip of endless darkness wraps around the spymasters neck and snatches him back. The element of surprise works in your favor, offering enough time to get back on your feet and gain some distance despite the fact that he recovers unnervingly quick, gaze darkening under the challenge. "What? I thought we were having fun, Azzy?" A innocent little pout completely contridicts the growing throb of power that hums off your frame. "Playing around."

The sharp sting of metal unsheathing and the blades attached to your forearms are unfastened, the hilt twisting with practiced ease as you adjusted your grip.

You play the clueless female well—too well.

Maybe that’s why Azriel underestimates the true extent of your focus; too trained on the rapid rising and falling of your chest, the way your left leg trembles slightly with exhaustion and he’s completely blindsided by the way you adjust your magic to him. The deep abyss of darkness that usually comes when calling your power shifts, the shade adapting to that of Azriel’s shadows until there was no way to tell where he started and you ended.

You take the opening, mentally patting yourself on the back for the look of genuine shock that smears its way across Azriel’s face and he’s on the ground in seconds. Your knees dig into the juncture of flesh in his biceps, applying pressure to vital nerves as you hover over his chest. “Alright, alright,” He taps at the mat twice, sweat lacing his brow and fingers going numb. “You win.”

With a deep exhale, you flop to the side and sprawl flat out on the mat, limbs boneless as your head lazily turns to face a brooding Cassian. “Feed me. The Heiress of your Court demands it.” Maybe it was the linger aftershocks of jealousy that leads Cass to saunter over and hoist you over his shoulder. It’s effortless and the surprised yelp that strangled free is slightly more embarrassing that being manhandled. “Cassian,” You grunt, bunching your hands in the durable material of his leathers to brace yourself. “Put me down, right now!”

His amusement rumbles against your belly, one large hand splayed high on the back of your thigh. “I’m only doing as my Heiress asks.”

A flush warms your cheeks, no longer able to blame it on the sun when the cool air of the house shifts over your skin. “Seriously, put me down. You stink.”

“You don’t smell much better but I was practicing self-control and keeping it an inside thought.”

Your hand smacks on his back in retaliation, huffy swears echoing throughout the halls but Cassian continues as if you hadn’t done anything at all. Instead, he plops you into a seat at the dining table and instantly the house predicts your needs, providing a spread of food that has your mouth watering and stomach growling.

Before you can even reach for a plate, Cassian’s already washed his hands and come back to pile a plate full of your favorites, swiftly avoiding foods you didn’t enjoy as much as if it were second nature. A brow quirks playfully, form sinking into your seat comfortably. “You gonna help me shower too?”

“Only if my Heiress demands it.” His lips shift into a smirk so sinful you shift in place, fingers just barely recovering from losing your grip on your silverware.

A scoff hides your inability to form words, fork scraping against the fine china as you fill your mouth with much needed sustenance. Immediately, your shitty mood dissipates, hips wiggling in complete bliss while you indulge in garlicy breadsticks dipped in creamy pasta sauce.

“You’ve been training your powers.” Cassian mentions more so to distract himself from the little moans you let you with each bite. “I’ve never seen you manipulate them like that. Blending into Az’s shadows?”

“A girls gotta do something to fill her time.”

Golden eyes narrow in your direction, scanning the curve of your cheeks and slope of your nose. He lingers entirely too long on your mouth, pasta sauce gathering in the corner and his fingers twitch to reach over and wipe it off. “What else are you hiding under your sleeve?”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” Something about the way you look at him has Cassian’s skin going hot, the pale violet of your iris turning into nothing but a thin ring as your pupils eat up the free space. “And, I’d hate to have to get rid of my favorite boy.”

“I’m your favorite?”

You’re outright teasing; taunting the brick wall of a man with nothing more than polished silver and the insinuating drag of your tongue against your fork. “You think I give invitations to secret parties to any ol’ body? Please, I have better taste than that.”

It’s instinctual. Driven by nothing more than pure Illyrian pride, his chest subconsciously puffing up with pride under the kiss of your compliment. He’s not brave enough to elaborate on it—too afraid to jumble his words and make a godsdamned fool of himself. “Where is this party anyway?”

Silverware clangs against fine china, a signal that you’ve finished your meal and the house is quick when cleaning up for you, fondly topping up your wine and providing fresh linen to dab around your mouth.

You don’t take it.

Instead, you offer up a crimson red ribbon just barely long enough to fully wrap around Cassian’s wrist. It’s smooth like silk in his grasp, the material coated in your scent and it takes every scrap of decency he has left not to shove it up against his nose. “Follow those. Once you’ve collected the last one, you’ll find me.”

“And then what?”

A sultry smirk curves at your mouth as you rise from your chair. “Then, you can have me.” His mouth goes dry, fists closing over the strip of fabric clutched between his fingers. “Have fun hunting, General.”

[satoruhour]

LEGIT JUST DASHED HERE FKJAKJLASDFKJL

TA! Nanami won't leave my brain so pleaseeee 🥺just him assisting you with lab reports by eating you out

❄️

(ANYTHING BUT) LAB HELP

a/n: icy you got me thinkin about my own TA and the failures in which i am too scared to cop him 😭😭😭 / this was purely fuelled by my own carnal need for nanami after last week’s episode because WHEEEEEWWW !

wc: 5.5k

warnings: fem!reader, TA!nanami, reader is a big simp for nanami but vice versa too, reader has long hair in this, slight age gap? since nanami is a TA (27 / 22), m! masturbation, fantasising, semi-public masturbation, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, fingering, hair pulling, little praise, degradation, use of ‘slut’, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut

the first time your TA walked in, your jaw drops. with a face and body like that, he should rightfully be in the modelling industry, not teaching you about dissecting and suturing mice and looking at atoms under a microscope.

all you know is that nanami kento was just like every teaching assistant — attending lectures just like the rest of the students, taking down notes for his tutorial and lab sessions, answering curious emails from everyone — but every interaction you had with this man was anything but normal, or at least that’s what you felt.

you’ve never viewed someone in such a deranged and filthy way before: pulling on his blonde hair and taking off that hideous cheetah print tie and telling him to his face that wearing a full suit while teaching makes him insanely older than he actually is; and also maybe after that, to push him right down to your cunt where he’d eat you out like you deserve.

“i just don’t get why he needs to use a suit at twenty seven years old just to teach — you’re doing your masters, like calm down a little.” you mumble more to yourself than your friend, but she likes every juicy detail you have about this attractive TA you keep talking about even if you sound like you hate him with how much you talk about the damn suit all the time.

but your friend only knows that if you could get his trousers, suit jacket, tie and shirt off of him, you would in a blink of an eye.

“maybe he wants to impress.”

your mouth twists, “who? only person he should be impressing is me.”

it’s all in good fun, with the way you’re talking — in reality, you don’t know what you’d do if the opportunity really presented itself to you. gossip, your legacy (or shame) carried by mouth, expulsion from the university, there were countless of unfortunate things if you do decide to go for the teaching assistant meant purely to help students in better understanding the material.

but it wasn’t one-sided. all those glances you thought nanami was sending you weren’t imagined, nor was it because you thought he was squinting due to bad eyesight. he remembers your name from the first tutorial he taught you, caught you lingering around the lecture hall, helps you a little too much during lab sessions and every time, he’s inexplicably drawn to you and your aura.

“good afternoon, ladies,” the familiar deep and collected voice snaps you out of the conversation, heart beating a hundred miles. you were in no way prepared for this, but you’re grateful for even one meeting out of class. your friend is insufferable though — from your peripheral you can see her giving the two of you a sick grin, “any chance i could ask for directions to this particular room?”

that was another thing; nanami wasn’t from this university. having completed his degree in another, he took his masters in the one you’re attending, wanting a breath of fresh air from the four years of his time in kyoto. that’s what you remember from his introduction, amongst many other things: he liked neutral colours, he’s interested in the philosophy of aesthetics, and he loved bread.

“babe, i’m going to head off for a class,” lies. she had no classes today at all, “see you tomorrow!” she bows briefly to nanami who only shoots her a tender smile and you turn to the side to bite your fist. you’ve become good at containing your reactions, though.

“oh! nanami-san, of course. headed there for a class?”

what kind of stupid question is that? of course he w—

“i’m heading there for a seminar, actually, starts in about,” he checks his watch, “10 minutes. the uni invited an external professor to give a talk that merges both the philosophical aspects of questioning life alongside the functions of the body, sparking thoughts of science and philosophy. thought it’d be interesting.”

you swallow and you swear you can feel your core pulsing. hot, intelligent and always pushing the boundaries and capacity of learning? you could only thank the gods that it was a cooler day, not being able to do anything if you actually do melt into a puddle.

“y-yeah! yeah, i know where it is.” you don’t, but the rooms are usually lined up pretty nicely, and you know you would be able to guide him successfully without much trouble; but when you’re checking the seminar room, you realise that they may have changed venues.

“crap . . five minutes. nanami-san, do you think maybe they sent a follow-up email with the change in location?” you’re more on edge than nanami is because you usually don’t like to be late for anything, recalling the jumble of numbers and letters he showed you earlier and lining them with the label plates outside the room.

“uh— oh, shit. yeah, i might’ve shown you the wrong email.” your jaw drops when you see the new venue.

“that’s . . on the other side of campus, nanami-san.”

“how long will it take?”

you wince at the disappointment on his face, “if you take the campus bus, at least fifteen minutes.”

nanami’s understandably mad at himself for his own mistake, knowing he’d miss a good chunk of the talk whilst travelling there, but he’s distracted from his self-loathing — taken aback at the quickness in which you offer to drive him.

“uh . . it’s probably maybe eight minutes there by car. my car’s parked close by if you want a lift—”

and nanami thinks it’s simultaneously the perfect and terrible day to send his car to the mechanics and settle for public transport. perfect because he might accept your offer to be close to you, terrible because he would much rather you sit in the passenger sit of his car rather than the other way around.

nanami forgets to be modest in your presence, so he accepts it without a second beat and follows you in a jog to the parking lot. there are scattered vehicles, possibly belonging to professors and maybe students, and the both of you come to an everyday looking corolla.

“okay! unlocked. i’ll try to speed and get you there in four minutes.” nanami can only manage a soft thank you, touched by your generosity and even more drawn by the determination in your face. with a turn of the ignition key, the man clutches onto the seatbelt as you lurch forward with the acceleration, and then you’re taking off.

you’re not the best driver, driving past yellow lights and terrible at changing lanes, but you get the job done. coming to rest in front of the humanities block, you’re arriving with the seminar starting just two minutes ago, and nanami looks at you like you just moved the moon and stars for him.

“thank you, (y/n)-san, truly,” he’s out of breath, maybe a little shaken up from the drive but it’s nothing he isn’t used to (gojo sucks too), “how can i repay you?”

you shake your hand, “a-ah, no it’s nothing. it was just an eight minute drive compressed into four.”

“no, really, let me pay back the favour.”

you bit your lip — you can’t possibly say the thing that’s on your mind. he would report you, you would have to be kicked out, your future crumbling before your eyes — you go for the tamer request.

“lunch, one day, then.”

nanami smiles at you and you feel like it’s cupid shooting his shot straight into your heart. you hardly see the man, smile, ever, so to have a genuine one directed at you made you squeeze your thighs together. there’s hope bubbling in nanami’s heart when he sees the effect of his smile: a glint in your eye and the quickened breaths, he may have thought your thighs move, too, but he didn’t have the balls to glance down to the one place he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.

“how ’bout right after the seminar?” fuck. you’re grinning now and you see a little of nanami’s teeth in an amused smile.

“sure, nanami-san,” adrenaline sends you reeling, eyes boring so tirelessly into his that you wish he’d understand all the things you want him to do to you. he peeks a quick glimpse of your lips as they lick it before unbuckling his seatbelt, popping open the passenger door to head out. your hand instinctively goes up to stop him, “or should i say . . passenger princess.”

that prompts a full grin out of your TA, who lets out an attractive chuckle before leaving from your car, “sure, whatever you want to call me.”

you’re driving away happily, kicking your feet once you’re parked in another car park and giggling to yourself. unbeknownst to you of the small little thing nanami says after, “although i’d like it if you call me yours.”

the spiral starts from there. it was approximately two hours — you have two hours of going back to the dorms to choose something you knew you looked good in while continuing to text your friend in excitement. it was chaos between the hours of eleven to one pm, rummaging through your closet to find something suitable. you went through many rounds of outfits and with each photo to your friend you were losing hope.

“‘let’s just stick with the first’?” you scoff loudly after reading out her feedback, typing out a reply to your friend. it sounded a little agitated but you can’t help but heart the message wishing you a good luck.

before you know it, you’re hearing a knock on the window, greeted with the very nice sight of his suit jacket now removed and his blue shirt rolled up at the sleeves. it’s like he’s heard your thoughts too because even his ugly tie is bundled up in his hand.

“the AC wasn’t working.” he simply explains, once he’s in the car and he appreciates your gesture of turning yours to the max. you let your eyes rake over his figure, the pull of his shirt that looks too tight for him and the lines of his forearms, before he finally gets settled in and begs your eye contact.

“bummer,” you click your tongue, “but well, any places you have in mind?”

you start the car, pulling out of the lobby and nanami playfully hums, “not going to listen to your passenger princess’ struggles? do you hate women perhaps?”

“nah, i’m a toxic man who doesn’t care about his girl’s life.” that draws a laugh out of nanami, who sinks more into the seat. he’s more relaxed here than in class, than in lectures and it’s a nice sight to behold.

he echoes your sentiment with a small smile, “bummer.”

you both settle on an eatery pretty easily, with nanami keeping his promise of paying for your lunch (you made sure to pay back just a little with some bread, though, because how does a simple car lift equate to a whole lunch?). he was everything you thought him out to be: insanely insightful and smart; on a more physical level, jacked with such a pretty voice to the point you let him ramble about the seminar. it was the most animated you’ve seen him act.

since then, he’s become more open to accepting food items and hangouts with his students, although they never really hit like the first lunch he’s had with you. it was detrimental to his teaching, really, even now where he glares at your lab partner who you’re laughing with. it makes his stomach turn with jealousy, even as you exchange nudges while completing your worksheets.

he figures he can’t do anything but wait for you to initiate, mind muddled with thoughts of you and the possibility you were just being a nice person from what you did before, until you’re interrupting him from his rage-fuelled cleaning of the lab with a tap to his shoulder.

“nanami-san?” the students have filed out by now, a shell of what used to be a lab full of students groaning at the innards of the rats they were cutting open and the whispers of confusion at how to sew them back up.

“what is it?” he turns around too fast, almost knowing over a beaker by accident and when his hand goes over to catch it, you stabilise it as well. your hand encases his, the both of you resisting the urge to smile while you try to remember the question you so desperately tried to think of; anything to just talk to him.

“this is about um . . last week’s experiment about gas chromatography.”

“yeah?” nanami leans against the table, arms crossed and all and suddenly looking too buff that you feel a little lightheaded. his eyes skim over your body, a tight fitting shirt that accentuates your tits whilst you have some yoga pants on and if he bent you over, he’s confident he can see your pussy lips from behind the fabric. he knows it’s because you had a yoga class this morning, because he’s too invested in your life and you willingly give him what he wants.

“if the two mixtures contained the same alcohols but filled up to different amounts, do you know a method via the gas chromatogram to distinguish between the two mixtures?”

“uhm—”

nanami looks collected but he is sweating, approached at such a random time that he doesn’t have time to prepare except stutter through his answer. you don’t notice how you’ve been stepping closer and closer to him, either, until you’re an inch from one another.

“oh! alright, that makes sense.”

“anything else?” your TA looks down at you, hands just itching to bring you in. the lab is so quiet, now, save for the shuffling feet of the students outside but thankfully the windows are opaque. you could probably hear a pin drop if it wasn’t for your hearts pounding so loudly in your chests. your finger twitches with your incomplete lab report.

“right— well, yes, i was asking if you c—”

“babe!” the lab door slides open at the same time your friend calls out to you and you cough in embarrassment. nanami only clears his throat as the two of you step away and your cheeks burn, and he has to loosen the tie around his neck just for a bit.

“you told me to wait for you outside, right? well you were taking too long and . .” the other only continues his ‘task’ of cleaning up, looking anywhere but your direction as she continues to ramble, but he doesn’t miss the look of recognition on your friend’s face.

she mouths to you— i’m so sorry for interrupting, before she has half a mind to say something out loud and you’re clasping your hand over her mouth and ushering her outside hurriedly.

“shush— okay, thanks mr. nanami-san!”

he only waves a hand in farewell, but as soon as the door closes he collapses onto the seat. with head in hands, his mind wanders to the proximity in which the two of you were engaged in and the very, very uncomfortable boner in his pants. he’s so big that everyone can probably see it, frozen in place as he gets a sick idea.

“yeah, i told you to wait for me but not to barge in like that— oh my god! you should go on the records for having the worst timing ever.” you aren’t entirely disappointed, but it did seem like a good opportunity. you’re partly glad, too, because your mind now feeds you countless scenarios of nanami’s expressions turning into disgust and shock.

“dang, i’m sorry, but we do have to get going if we want to make it in time for that cafe event.”

your mouth twists, “yeah, i guess so.”

“if it makes you feel better, maybe he’ll want you more after this interruption.” she winks and you shove her playfully.

“now, you’re just trying to justify your bad timing!”

in that short time, you’re unaware that nanami has unzipped his pants and pulled out his hard-on through the hole of his boxers, insanely hard and body burning with regret. “lord, forgive me.”

he imagines you propped up on the (clean) lab tables, feet on his shoulders as he eats you out from below, or even hitting it from the back as he “helps” you with your lab report in the dorm, knowing damn well you won’t get anything done, or maybe even your mouth full of his throbbing cock sucking him off as he teaches.

nanami strokes his length in the empty lab room, knowing there wasn’t any classes any time soon from how often he’s looked at the timetables. there, he simply pumps himself under the table, biting at his shirt sleeves to muffle his grunts that he drools. it drops to the table, but he’s caring not one bit, because the feel of his hands just feel too good against him and the images of you only get lewder and lewder.

“s-shit . .” nanami swears quietly, hoping the slickness of his pre-cum doesn’t give him away, squeezing and moving his hands faster along his cock. his tip’s so sensitive — what would your mouth or pussy feel like? would you have let him rip your tights and fuck you silly just now? his hips are bucking into his hands, now, thinking of turning your sweet, sweet smile into something of pure sex, and before he knows it, he’s shooting his load onto the floor with a loud groan, thumbing his tip shakily. nanami’s breaths are ragged, guilt burning him alive while he washes his hand at the sink beside the tables and crouches to the floor, cleaning up after himself — nanami definitely wouldn’t be able to face you after this.

he was right. his mind was flooded with you in obscene positions and your saccharine voice twisted into moans and whines, he wonders if you taste as good as the pineapple juice he had the other day. even in tutorials, the students were wondering why the AC was turned up so high, because one glance from you made him hot and bothered. he liked to book it straight out of class, too, directing all questions to his email which he highlights very clearly in his slides, muttering something about being on a tight deadline with his thesis for his masters, but it’s never that serious — he’s usually heading back to quell the uncomfortable boner in his pants.

“prof? nanami-san?” you knew you’d find him in here in the professor’s office, probably going over lesson plans. your professor only shoots you a friendly greeting as nanami turns in his chair, he’s always happy to see his students while nanami swallows when you’re back in your yoga getup. it’s been a week, already?

“need anything, (y/n)?”

“oh, i need more of nanami-san, since it’s relating to my lab reports.” your professor usually conducted lab sessions, but nanami was the one to help with the reports, conveying the information of what to write and whatnot; well, it was also easier to talk someone who isn’t so intimidating and cool as your professor.

“kento, help me lock up after you’re done, alright?” your professor throws him the keys and you stifle a laugh at the way he stumbles out the door, “going home early to the wife, ahah . . guess i’m falling for her over again.”

that draws a laugh from both of you, bidding him goodbye with a smile on your faces before the mood turns tense again, and nanami looks up at you from his chair. you take him in: the manspread, the head tilt, the intentional (but you don’t know that) deep voice.

“yes, (y/n)?”

you gulp, remembering what your friend said — keep eye contact, slowly walk up to him, keep your voice nonchalant — it was easier said than done.

“cat got your tongue?”

you sputter and exclaim, “no— no i’m okay. i just wanted to ask about the alcohols used in the experiment last week.”

“ah, you’re still on that?”

his tone is laced with a slight disdain, possibly from how much he hates how you make him feel, coming in here to ask about your stupid lab report when he know you’re a bright student who hardly needs any help, coming in here like the two of you don’t want each other.

“y-yes, nanami-san.”

he stands and easily towers over you. from here, you can see his broad shoulders take up his shirt as he walks you back, buttons unbuttoned to reveal a bit of skin. you feel like prey being cornered, but nanami still has some sense of chivalry when he wraps an arm around your waist to prevent you from hitting the frosted glass door.

“mind telling me why your lab report from over two weeks ago is taking so long to be completed?”

reality seeps in for just a moment and his hand removes itself, hovering just over your body, “we still . . have a week to finish it up, nanami-san . .”

your TA takes a deep breath and you think that maybe that was the wrong answer, but all nanami does is step even closer to you and your hands have no choice but to rest on his toned chest. he can only hope no one can see your figure when you’re pressed flat against the frosted glass, but he knows this part of the uni is a little deserted this late in the afternoon.

“that’s not wrong . .” his voice is down to a whisper, closing his eyes for a moment when your hands travel over his chest. when he opens them again, they’re more than just the pretty, hazel ones you like to fantasise about, stained with a darker sort of lust that involves taking you, even if it meant doing it in the professor’s office. “but you’re always submitting it pretty early on, aren’t you? what changed, hm?”

you can feel his breath on your lips, wishing he would just take the first step because frankly, your pussy is throbbing and your body is already leaning into him even without his hand on your back. it feels natural like that.

“i got distracted.”

nanami’s breath moves from your lips to your neck, and you cheer in your head as he plants a gentle kiss there, but it’s not quite what you want. he hums into the crook of your neck, torturing you with wet kisses and sucking lightly.

“by what? your friend? or perhaps it’s some external commitment that’s taking up a lot of your time?” nanami already knows the answer but he enjoys the way you squirm. “what is it?”

by now, your hands are trailing up his body, wrapping around his neck and playing with his undercut. his skin is so soft and he smells so damn good, and he sighs at your hands.

“by someone, actually.” you bite the bullet, forcibly removing him from your neck which is definitely starting to show the obvious blue black on the skin there. his hands this whole time have been placed against the door behind you, but the carnal need is too prominent that he wraps that same arm around your middle. the other, on your nape; the sheer size of his hand makes you whine and nanami smiles at that.

“mind telling me who is it? maybe i could give them a good talk, tell them to stop tormenting my smart girl.”

that draws out a visceral reaction from you, melting into his arms at the simple praise. nanami helps you a little, leaning in with an expression as needy as yours.

“you’re gonna talk to yourself?” a laugh is the last thing you hear before he crashes his lips against yours, a hand smartly going to the door to flip the lock before he pulls you flush against him. you moan softly when you feel his hard-on, against your front, manhandled easy by nanami’s arms as he whips you around to walk you to your professor’s desk.

“do you think he’ll sue us?” nanami kisses down your neck with him between your legs, hands fondling every inch of your body while you grind up against his pelvis. with such thin material such as your yoga tights between you, it feels so damn good.

“at most he’ll remove me as TA . .” as he speaks, you can feel the vibrations along your skin, legs instinctively bringing him closer. he doesn’t let you, instead pulling away from your body and goes to his knees, seeing just how soaked you are. he thanks god you weren’t wearing black, because there’s a wet patch that leaks too much — it’s clear you didn’t bother to wear underwear at all. “but that is if he finds out about this, right?”

you smile, feet pushing at his back towards your dripping cunt and you moan softly when he licks at your pussy through the fabric.

“yeah— yeah i guess so,” you’re then expecting his hands to pull at your waistband and you lift your hips knowingly, but you hear a stark riiip! that echoes throughout the office and you gasp, too focused on his pretty face to notice he’s dug his fingers into the yoga tights to tear it at your centre. the action turns you on, entirely sure you felt your pussy flutter at the sheer strength that he had.

“i’ll buy you new ones, baby,” nanami presses a gentle kiss against your clit and you shiver at the contact, hot breath threatening your demise by his hand, “they’re of terrible quality, by the way.”

you huff, “yeah, you kinda ripped it, nanami-san. plus, what’s terrible — not in quality but in looks — is your tie.”

nanami chuckles, caressing your inner thighs with gentle fingers, blowing lightly on your cunt, “personal vendetta against cheetahs?”

that sends shivers along your whole body, “n-no, just don’t really like the look of it.”

nanami hums, “i’m wounded.”

“you’ll live.”

he only laughs again, “okay, enough talking. i’m starving.” and starving he was — he latches his mouth onto your clit like a vice, sucking and flicking his tongue relentlessly you have no choice but to cry out his name. “taste so fucking sweet,” the sudden swear catches you off-guard, paired with the rasped voice and your hips willingly hump his mouth, “pussy made for me.”

“don’t say shit like that . .” you whine, embarrassed at the filthiness of his words and yet you’re sat here on a desk, pushing your sex more and more into his lips. “it’s embarrassin’.”

nanami clicks his tongue, “you’re still here.”

“yeah, shut up.” you push him further into your cunt to silence him, a loud moan leaving your lips as nanami slobbers over you — you’re so wet, spilling onto the floor. without warning, nanami slips a finger into you, easing it in and the sheer thickness of it prompts more mewls from you.

“k—kento . .” you hear nanami groan at the first name basis, shoving his finger deeper into you. he pumps it as his tongue works overtime, the slickness of which your pussy sounds out echoing throughout the room. “i’m c-clos—”

that seems to fuel nanami further, memorising how your body feels under him. you clench repeatedly around his finger, thighs twitching against him while your whimpers increase in volume, just like your incoherent babbles.

“i’m g’nna— kento, i’m c—” your back arches when you gush all over his face, juices squirting and making a mess out of his hair. nanami groans into your sopping pussy, slurping up your arousal shamelessly as you continue to give him everything of you. you’re shaking around him, moans slowly dwindling due to shame. by now, you’ve soaked through the bottom of your tights, letting him rip the seams for a little more access.

“wanna hear you, baby.” he easily multitasks, turning you around while removing his underwear, looking back at him while you shimmy your ass back into him. with a low moan, nanami drags his tip over your folds, collecting your cum and pushing it in with it. the stretch makes your jaw drop and legs tremble, pussy still sensitive from the previous orgasm.

you hold on to the wooden desk to the best of your ability but your iron grip makes the wood creak a little; it isn’t long before nanami starts moving.

“f-fuck . . you’re so tight,” the lewdness of the situation, your ruined tights, your ass moving with the force of his hips has him gripping your hips harsher than intended. his cock is just so fat, hitting your spots effortlessly as he rams into you from behind, “will this be enough motivation for you to finish that lab report, hm?” your perked up ass is receiving all the abuse from his pelvis, rutted into with pure primal need as the slaps of his balls against you gets louder and louder, just like your moans.

“g-gonna need more than this, kento—!” you’re whining as he reaches around to rub at your clit, messy and fast, surely drawing marks down the once flawless wooden desk. he just hopes there’s no one who requires the professor’s assistance because there was a clear indication that the office was open with the shining ceiling light but he was in no condition to answer any questions without panting.

nanami pushes down your lower back, cockhead hitting your spots over and over, “need more? of course you do, fuckin’ slut.” it’s a total 180 from the gentle way he’s kissed you earlier — a choked whine and a clench of your pussy tells him you like it . “oh . . she’s cock drunk already, huh?”

“yesyesyes! mmff— kento, please . .” he pulls on your hair from behind, made easy by the ponytail you had it in and you moan at the mixture of pain and pleasure. he takes it a little easier, resting his large palm at your neck and pulling, together with your hair. nanami sucks at the same spot as earlier, and the overwhelming sensations has you both arching your back and fucking yourself back onto him.

“pretty arch you got here, darling,” he pants out, fucking so hard into you with his support that your hands don’t even need to rest on the table. nanami knows you’re already close by the way you’re unresponsive, mindless babbling leaving your mouth while you let him use your limp body. “is it all for m-me?”

“mhmh— it is, it is—” you’re fucked senseless, letting him turn your head to meet him in a sloppy kiss. by now your pussy juices are spurting all over the place, staining the floor and table, dripping down his balls where with every slam of his cock you can here the wet pap! pap! pap!’s of it.

“y—yeah i know it is; that’s all you are, aren‘t you? a little cocksleeve for me.” nanami groans out, letting go entirely before wrapping his arms around you and trapping you between his front and the table. he’s flush against your back, thrusts faltering with each plunge into your warm, tight pussy as he feels you clench tirelessly and you don’t even to say it before you’re jolting in his hold.

“cumming, i’m cumming . . fuuuck . .” your body is so sensitive, shaking around his cock that continues to move into you. you cum all over him, listening to the dirty whispers he’s dumping into your ears.

“oh . .” nanami groans, “that’s a good little slut, s-shit—” your hips continue to move even though your brain tells you to stop, hands making terrible effort at reaching for him.

“wan’ you to cum in me, kentoo—” your grip on his forearm is tight, pleading with your doe eyes and small voice that has nanami grunting out in a dilemma, but your pussy’s too warm that he cums suddenly. his voice reaches a higher register, stuttering pelvis rutting into you with the intent of breeding you; he pumps you full of his seed, ropes upon ropes of white filling your womb. it’s so thick that you shiver again, yelping softly when he pulls out.

“look at that . .” nanami marvels at the amount of cum he’s dumped into you, using a finger to scoop it up before pushing it back in that you jump from the coldness of his finger. “a smart girl turned so dumb just from cock.” you give him an intoxicated smile, lazy and hooded as you lay limp on the table.

“only for your cock, nanami-san . .” you lick a stripe up the palm of your hand and he indulges you by stepping closer. he moans softly as your hand makes contact with his shaft, “or should i say . . sir?”

nanami ended up driving you back to your dorm, helping you to your room from how sore you were after that.

[strawberymilku]

Hate fuck

featuring: Blade x female!Reader

genre: smut, hate fuck, a lot of swearing, mentions of slut and whores, blowjob, degrading, slapping, choking, rough sex, enemies to lover arc, daddy kink, unprotected sex, doggy style, creampie

a/n: i really wanted to write a hate fuck for so long, so i tried. reader is a horny mf, so blade gotta show who that toy belongs to.

word count: 3.2k

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"I really hate you," the girl Stellaron Hunter muttered, he stole her snacks form the fridge as always.

Blade smirked, the edge of his eyebrow raised.

"And yet if I wasn’t here, you’d be bored out of your mind. I don’t think you want that, Princess."

"Don't Princess me, I never share food, you know that," she hissed, throwing the half eaten cake, in the bin, glaring at him.

"Now now, is that any way to treat your enemy?" His smirk got wider, revealing just how much of an annoying bastard he could be. The bastard part was mostly true, it was the annoying part which was up for debate.

"Besides, I’m still pretty hungry…"

"How about I touch your sword, do you like it?" she intentionally touched his weapon, smudging it with the icing she touched just now, just to tilt him further.

He rolled his eyes. His sword was the last thing he wanted a careless girl like her touching. Then again, it was hard to deny how attractive she truly was. In a more perfect world, the two of them would end up together. But unfortunately, this wasn’t one of those. A smirk once again spread across his lips, his hands quickly reaching over to hers, his thumb stroking the inside of her palm as he held her wrist, bringing it closer to his mouth.

Her anger turned into frustration as he took her hand and licked the cream off her hand on purpose, kneeling down in front of her, however wasn't pleasurable on her face as it turned into a scowl, removing her hand from his grip. "You're disgusting, really." she slapped his face away, backing off from her seat.

Blade stood up and looked at her with a small smirk. Though her anger was far from being cute, he still had no regrets in his actions. That was just how he was, a disgusting bastard.

"You’re no different, darling. How many times have I seen you walk in late with a different person each time? I doubt you even know their names."

"It's none of your business," she furrowed her eyebrows, pissed at how observant he was with her, it was rather creepy.

"Aren't you just Kafka's little lapdog?" she had crossed that line, wayy cross that line. His face turned into huge rage, staring her dead in her eyes.

"Don’t you even go there, you filthy whore." his voice got louder as he glared at her. His expression twisted and his body language was now more threatening, even. No one dared to call him Kafka’s lapdog, and especially not from her. Blade was his own man.

"Isn't that why you joined the Stellaron Hunters, you're just her boy toy," she grinned. It was just her assumptions, he had his other reasons but that doesn’t matter, she was literally humiliating her. He cannot allow that.

Blade’s blood boiled. He had only a few things that could get him really riled up, and being associated with Kafka was one of them.

"You little slut. I’ll have you know, I did not join because of her. I have my own reasons for doing so, and they do not involve that woman."

"Don't call me a slut, you are a simp. A literal simp, do you even know what that means?" she snickered, enjoying to see his angry facial expression.

He was just about done with her. He clenched his hands, the veins on his forearms bulging. How much he wish to destroy her right at the moment, he imagined if his cum was all over her face, he want to humiliate her right there, but he kept his composure.

"Shut the hell up and keep your mouth shut. Don’t think that just because I didn’t join because of her means that I’m a simp." he tried to act calm instead, folding his arms.

Blade sighed, running his hands through his hair. He had let her get to him too easily. She was clearly trying to piss him off, and she had succeeded. In response, he was simply going to have to do the same.

"You know, now that I've actually gotten to talk to you for more than a few minutes, I can see exactly how much of a disappointment you are to everyone around you. Your parents must be ashamed to have you as a daughter."

"Don't bring my parents into this..." she looked up at him, he had gone way too far, she got up from his seat, approaching with him with her fan made of different blades attached to it, pointing on his neck.

He smirked, noticing his remark must have gotten to her. That is the exact reaction he had been wanting for. He raised a brow when her fan approached his neck, though he didn’t bat an eye at that either. The only thing he seemed interested in was the fact he had successfully gotten her.

"Or what? You’re going to hurt me? Come on, do it then."

She dug his skin with the point of the blade as it went further deeper, but she held her urges for murdering him, which she knew Kafka would come after her, for not getting along. "You have gone way too far, Blade. Take it back," she growled, looking into his red and golden gradient eyes.

Blade didn’t even flinch. In fact, he only smirked while blood slowly dropped down his neck. This certainly hurt, though he decided it was too late to back up now. Her anger was already through the roof. So all there was left to do was continue what he did best - piss her off.

“Make me.”

It seemed he was going to have to show her who was boss. With some quick and fluid motions, he was able to knock her backwards and pinned her to the wall using nothing but the strength of his arms. The red stains on his neck had now gone all the way from the front down to the back. He leaned in close, his body heat and breath filling her face. He liked how he had power here.

"Let go of me you lapdog," she looked above him, but he was twice her size.

“No.” Blade smirked, gripping her shoulders tightly. “Now tell me, little girl. Who’s the one in charge here? Who decides what happens and what doesn’t? Answer me.”

"No, what I said was right," she shrugged, daring to look at him back, or even say a word against him.

It made him smirk- he was enjoying this. It was a power trip for him. The satisfaction that came from him having complete control over her.

"That’s not how this works, darling." He leaned in even closer and whispered. "Say it."

"I'm sorry for calling you Kafka's lapdog, although which is true.." she apologized, giving it a half ass sincere words.

He finally released his grip from her, pulling her slightly closer. Now they were eye-to-eye, she was probably now noticing just how much of a height difference they had. But other than that, he was now in a much more relaxed position.

"At this rate it seems to me like you’re begging for a kiss." Blade said, his voice laced with an air of smugness.

"Quite the confidence you have, who said I want to kiss you," she rolled her eyes, wanting to push him away from her, ready to get out of the room, wanting to storm in Kafka’s office room and file a report but first she need to escape from his strong grip.

“Tell me, what’s stopping you?” Blade said, his voice getting more seductive with each word.

"Hmm, yes there is, actually, you got a pretty face but an ugly personality, nah not a man in my eyes" she hummed, wanting to piss him off, if she could.

“Is that so?” He smirked and got even closer to her. His breath and body heat were now on her face, his lips only a few inches from hers.

“Hate me all you want, but I see the way you look at me. Your anger clearly hides this intense lust for me. It’s clear as day how much you want me.”

"Oh please, aren't you jerking off the pictures Silver Wolf took for me?" her forehead vein was twitching from the bitter truth, exposing him to tilt him even more.

Blade got pissed just from those words alone. She had clearly touched a spot he was uncomfortable with. Now he was going to make her regret it.

“Shut up, you little whore.” he hissed, his voice dripping with anger and hatred. “I’m surprised you haven’t begged for me to punish you yet.”

"Why should I? I knew you want me," she looked smug, saying the words to drill it in his head.

Blade froze for a moment. Was she... actually enjoying this? That made him madder than anything! But... he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying it a little bit himself. Blade leaned in even closer, his voice now laced with a sadistic and condescending tone.

“And I think you want me too, honey.”

She scoffed at that line he told her, but she could feel his grip on her soft arms, still pinning on her wall. It was true, she wants him too, and why are they acting so tough about it. "You're a bit delusional, Bladie" she hid her true self again.

He was enjoying this game more than he let on. He pulled her even closer.

“How cute... I wonder why you keep calling me delusional. Could it be because you’re afraid to let yourself be vulnerable to me?”

"You're so annoying, can I just shut you up already?" she whispered, she could feel his breath so close.

Blade smirked at her request. He was tempted. It’d be so easy... with a quick movement, he could pull her in fully, and their lips would meet. It was a simple motion. However, his mouth remained shut. Instead, he gave her that seductive smirk once more, his eyes locked on hers.

“Make me.”

She pushed her head, their nose were already touching, the proximity was too close, but she was such a tease, she didn't kiss him yet, she just want to push his buttons, their lips just a centimeter away, she let out a giggle as she earned a growl from his impatience.

Blade finally pulled her in and their lips met. His tongue swirled around her mouth, their tongues making contact. It was the most passionate kiss he had ever shared with anyone. She’d finally broken him. His hands grabbed her by her waist, his grip slightly tight, pulling her closer to his body. Blade just wanted to forget everything else. It was just them, now. Just this moment. All he wanted was to keep kissing. Keep kissing until she lost breath.

She bit his bottom lip, until he part away for air, a saliva string was formed after they cut their hot headed kiss, she looked up at him for answers, but she really enjoyed the kiss as much as he does.

They fuel their hate into desires, she was placed on his laps on the sofa, as she kissed him deeply, head tilted so they could deepened the kiss, she touched his bandaged chest, trying to take the bandage off goddamn slowly as they continued kiss.

Blade wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling her even closer to him. Their hot-headed love-hate kiss was growing more and more intense with each passing moment. Blade didn’t even realize how much his hands had began to explore her body, one of them slipping between her legs, squeezing her ass. She was right, he was a bit of a simp.

“Get down now,” he ordered her, he unbuckled his pants as he made her kneel down, he put a thumb softly inside her mouth. “Okay, suck it, whore.” he loved how obedient she was. “Now, beg, beg for my dick, Princess” the girl glared at him underneath but she was down bad for one right now.

“Please, can I suck your cock, daddy?” she gave with such submissive pleading eyes.

“I’d hate myself if I weren’t to give you one, know you place, slut.” he sprung out his massive cock, twitching with precum just from her whines, veins popping but he chose to slap it across her face.

“Say, who is in charge right now?” he asked for more powerplay.

“You, daddy.” she replied trying to lick his tip as he inserted the entrance of her mouth.

“Suck it, suck it like you mean it,” he growled in a moment of satisfaction, he wanted her like this, taking in his cock in her mouth, wanting to shut that blabby mouth shut like this.

The girl listened to his demands, sucking him as if she needed that dick for so long, her cheeks hollowed, trying to earn more moans and heavy pants from him.

“I hate you so much I want to fuck that mouth of yours,” his hips pushed more, as the tip touched the girl’s throat. His hand held her head, as he fucked his throat as much as he want.

“That’s what you deserve,” he hissed, every thrust as he could feel the inside of her throat, the poor girl was tearing up from gagging off his huge dick.

“Deserved to be fucked by the mouth, can’t talk anymore?” he laughed evilly, going feral as she continued to suck as tears formed under her eyes, he wiped that tears off from her pretty face.

“You can take more, no?” he liked it, liked how much control he has right now. The girl shook her head but he didn’t like that answer, pushing his cock further in her throat.

He kept fucking her mouth as if she was a toy made just for her.

“That’s for the boys you have been fucking with,” he pushed his hips deep as the balls were touching her chins. He could feel his orgasms near in just a moment.

Before he cum, he took off his dick, giving it a few pumps as he came all over her pretty face, just like how he imagined. He grabbed his phone, snapping a few shots of the facial he painted on her face, as if it was a masterpiece he made. “Hey, that’s not-” she had no right to deny.

“Yes, it is. God, you look so pretty for me, Princess. I will be saving this picture,” he showed her the snap he took. “Gotta make it a wallpaper for me to stare,” he tossed the phone on the table. He carried her body in one arm, making it in a bridal style. She looked so small in his arms.

"I hate you so much," she whispered in his ears. She really hate in for wanting him so much, she wanted to see what will happen next.

“Hate is just a replacement for love, dear.” Blade smirked and whispered back, his breath now hitting behind her ear, giving a few nibbles on her earlobes, placing her on his mattress. He got on top of the bed, ready to fuck so she stop talking as well.

"No, it's true I hated you, Bladie," she could feel his hands roaming on her body, as if he already owned her as his.

“Keep telling yourself that if it’s going to help you sleep at night, darling.” He smirked again and looked down at her. Now that he had her pinned down, he didn’t know what was next, but he had some ideas in mind. “I could always make you feel worse, if you’d like?”

"I hate you so much that I wish to f*ck you," he growled, taking off the clothes from her covering her beautiful body, ripping the undergarments in one tear.

He gave her breasts a few massage, “Say you want me inside, slut.” he whispered close in her ear, as he placed his cock on the entrance of her wet cunt.

“I don’t-” she replied, to tease him.

“But I will,” he entered her folds, giving it a few adjustment to his size. He let out a moan of satisfaction on how tight she was.

“So tight, even though you are a whore. Take my dick slut,” he gave a few slap on her ass as he took off his dick, spun him in a doggy position, pulling her hair, entering inside her again.

“You want me to fuck you like a good fucking whore you are right?” he asked again, pulling her wrists behind her back with one hand, the other hand pulling her arm. The girl couldn’t even reply, mewling in pain on her scalp and the pleasure she was getting from below.

“Y-yes, daddy. Please. I want your cock inside me, use me as much as you want,” she moaned out, feeling him fucking her, pushing his dick, kissing her cervix many times, abusing it until she gripped on his sheets of the bed.

“Good, your wish is my command,” he slapped on her ass, thrusting his dick, bullying her gummy walls, faster. She felt so good wrapped around his dick. He wanted her like this for so long. She belonged to him, and him only, wanting to take control of her all night like this.

The room was filled with the smell of sweat, and the sound of his balls slapping on her ass, abusing her with slaps, moans and grunts in harmony, as he fucked her as much he wanted to fuck her life as well.

“God, you’re so tight for even, as a slut. Want this slutty pussy of yours,” he groped her breasts with his two hands, his hips pushing inside her body with greater pace penetrating that one G-spot until she moaned louder and louder.

“Moan louder so everyone can hear how much I’m pleasing you, Princess.” he bit her ear, he pushed the tip of his dick in her cervix to earn himself a scream by rubbing her clit for her, rubbing the bud until it goes numb.

“Blade, ahh!” he was fucking until her brain wasn’t working in pieces, she was obviously drunk from the fucks he been giving.

“S’so so goodd,” she moaned out his name, mewling in pleasure. “Want you, want you daddy, hnghh” she panted desperately asking for his cock to abuse her hole.

“P-please, I’m so close daddy, can I cum?” she begged, trying to hold for herself, as the bed started to make creaking noises.

“Do you want my cum inside you too, Princess?” he hummed, not stopping his pace, as he could feel her pussy tightened more around his cock, he didn’t stop rubbing the clit, pushing her to an edge of pleasure.

“Y-yes, I will take it, please, I need to cum.” tears were glistening as he kept the sensitive bud.

“Good, you will earn that.” his dick twitched, shooting all the white hot seeds inside that womb, in a massive load, riding her orgasms. He let out a low groan from the immense pleasure by the moment she screamed.

He wasn’t that cruel, wiping the sweat off her face, putting the tired girl inside his arms. “I hate you so much, but stay in my arms tonight,” he closed his eyes, putting her in his chest, touching her hair, kissing her forehead. The female Stellaron Hunter just nodded, giving him a smile, calling it a night as they both cuddled in Blade’s bed.

Hate and love there is no in between but, they are really in love right?

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

[cheonstapes]

hiii lovie! first off, i love love love ur writings so much idk how to describe it but you write so… pretty? it’s like I’m reading a love letter from elle woods teehee, second how would you feel about miguel x maddy perez!reader? i just have a really good feeling of miguel liking his women kind of mean, lack of vocal filter who won’t hesitate to kill anyone for him (like LITERALLY) but she’s also a big softie to those who she finds dearly to her. miguel knows how tough she is but knowing her past and what her ex had done to her, miguel would most definitely be protective of his woman. IDK I JUST THOUGHT IT WOULD BE SUCH A CUTE CONCEPT HDJDJDND OK ILY BYE

miguel o’hara stars in… ‘YOU LOVE TO BE LOVED’ (*･ω･)ﾉ

a/n~ i've never watched euphoria believe it or not, so i watched it for you anonnie!!!!! it's interesting! thank you lovely for the request, sorry for the wait baby, sorry it's a bit short💗

cw; SMUT!! not a lot, reader is lowkey a killer, miguel is whipped, blood, fluff, cutesy couple shenanigans! NAWT PROOFREAD - shame on me!

sorry, but i think miguel would love to be taken care of by his strong woman

he thinks it’s so sexy when you take charge, knowing when you say what you say — you mean it

you two are practically polar opposites, especially with the way that you dress

he doesn’t mind if you dress more revealing than most cause he knows you can take care of yourself and he’s can definitely take care of you too 

he loves how soft you are behind closed doors too — the whispers and the pure domestication that you exude when it’s just you two alone is too much for him to handle sometimes 

he even proposed early cause he knew you were too good to let go

when he found out about what happened with you and your ex, he was furious 

the thought of someone putting their filthy hands on his girl never failed to rile him up — it was his go-to motivation when he’s at the gym beating the fuck out of those punching bags

he knows despite how tough you may seem, deep down you’re still sensitive 

he pays mind to not raise his voice at you and he never, EVER, puts his hands on you — unless you’re into that

you spoil him, as much as it pains him to see you spending money on him (he should be doing that for you) he wouldn’t refuse it, knowing that’s just how you love

and when you see the cashier tryna chat up your man right in front of you?

miguel says a silent prayer for the poor soul

your nails tapping against the counter as your eyes twitches slightly — you somehow manage to sweetly ask them to meet you out back

when you come back a few minutes later, wiping the blood off of your cheek he just smiles — kissing that same cheek and grabbing your hand, “ready to go, baby?”

he’s that type of boyfriend that would keep an arm around your waist 24/7, making sure he walks closest to the road, carrying you over puddles

it’s extra as fuck but anything for his baby

speaking of anything for you…

definitely a service dom!

he 100% would let you top whenever, i doubt he would be insecure about you taking the lead

when he’s domming, he makes sure to listen to everything you ask of him

you want him to go slower? sure!

faster? sure!

pound you into the mattress? of-fucking-course!

mans just wants his pretty baby to feel good cause that’s what you deserve!

he’s the type to grab your hips, grinding deliciously into your cunt as he pants into your ear — telling you how sweet you are, how much he adores and worships his queen

he’d love it when you’d ride him too, he wouldn’t want to take control either 

just letting you pleasure yourself till your hearts content, it doesn’t even matter if he cums or not — as long as you’re satisfied 

ANYWay

miguel is such a big simp for his meanie gf

giving you all the biggest kisses and titty sucks you deserve

( ◠‿◠ )

-RAAAAAAAAAAA

[sunofpandora]

Authors note:

AYEEEE CHAPTER TWO

Wow! I was not expecting all the kind comments and the taglist requests from chapter 1. I’m genuinely in shock, still. The comments and reposts got me teary eyed. 

                                                                   V I R A G O            

Word count: 6k       

Chapter 2

The son sun made of stone  

words.

𝓭𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓼/𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼/𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼/

‘Y/n was made of fire. Oh, a goddess girl with lips of lightning and a caged Phoenix under her skin. Neteyam is just the ashes and remains of the heavens she crushed under her heel.’

General Warnings: na’vi reader/ reader is a war orphan/ as always, spider, the reader, and Lo’ak are a trio/ Lo’ak and Reader being platonic soulmates?/ Spider and Reader being trauma twins/ Neteyam being lovesic/ Neteyam being nervous and shy around reader/ Neytiri being mother/ Jake being the husband i wish i had/ Tuk being a little sister and looking up to y/n/ Mentions of grace’s school./ reader fell first but Neteyam fell way harder/ sun x moon relationship 

Chapter 2 warnings: jealous neteyam/ mentions or anxiousness/ mentions of war and death/flirting/ mentions of dead animals/ mentions of grief and injuries/

Extra info:

Y/n is one year younger than neteyam, she is 18 and he is 19.

Lo’ak is 18 and Kiri is also 19. Tuk is 7-8 and spider is 19.

Extra characters: 

Ka’lik (y/ns father. A deceased warrior of the Omaticaya clan)

Zensira (y/n’s mother. deceased best singer and head songstress of the Omaticaya clan)

Makeyo (a warrior of the omaticaya clan. The same age as neteyam and went through iknimiya the same day as well. A filthy simp for y/n)

Kailo (Y/n’s ikran. Your ikran is a male ya’ll. sorry.)

Popiti (tuk’s best friend according to the visual dictionary)

Chapter two synopsis:

Neteyam comes to return y/n’s bracelet and has some internal conflict about his feelings towards her. Makeyo attempts to make a move on y/n and Neteyam experiences a different type of burning in his heart.

Neteyams Pov (trying something new by writing from neteyams pov as a little experiment. Lemme know how yall like it.)

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆

“Neteyam”

For a moment the sound of my name leaving her lips in a breath is almost enough to forget myself and drop to my knees. 

The tuft of my tail thwacks the back of my head gently and i force my heartbeat to endure boundaries.

 I clear my throat, finding the words.

My eyes fan over her figure.

The moonlight contours the crevices of her curves. Her eyes, an amorous gold, spark themselves luminous. Almost Neon in the darkness of night. 

There's a bandage around her torso, and one around her left bicep. Her skin smells of grandmother's salves and wooden bowls.

It’s funny how fast the memories flood back. 

There was a time before she was made of fire.

Well, actually, I don't think that’s a fair statement.

There was always a spark. Always that small flicker refusing to perish even in strong winds.

I have memories of playing in the stream with my siblings and Y/n, and occasionally spider.  

She’d chase me. Her feet assaulted the shin deep water with the harsh sloshing of her feet. She tackled me and pulled on my tail. The sunburst air is sweet like nectar against our glistening skin and shrieks of laughter and springtime memories. 

Her laughter challenges the brightness of the sugared sun rays that danced through the canopy, it shakes the stars with its loud singing.

The scattered droplets of water seize on her skin as she chases lo’ak, carrying a smaller spider on her back.

Now she stands before me. Taller, stronger, a warrior in all its forms. 

I clear my throat once again, my eyes flickering over her body.

“How are you? Grandmother was able to treat you?”

She nods, leaning lightly against the wooden entrance frame of the marui.

“The wounds could have been worse. Mo’at was able to clean up the wounds just fine. Tsahik suggested i rest here for the night..’

She trials off, clicking her tongue as she gently taps her finger against the bandage.

The dwindling echoes of our breaths gently keep the silence afloat.

My eyes flicker up when her voice catches my ears.

“You? Any injuries?”

I shrug. “A few scratches. Nothing Serious. Lo’ak has a small bruise on his head but he’ll be fine. Mother treated us earlier.”

Something somber in her irises flickers. It’s small, but its not quiet. I open my mouth to speak but like most other things between us, she beats me to it.

“Why did you fly down there today? You could have been killed.”

There’s a hiss at the endnotes of her voice. And I don't blame her for being pissed. Not for a second.

I frown, I can feel my tail thump lightly against the ground.

“Lo’ak flew his way down there first. I wet after him.”

My confession trails a veil of blankness behind it that lingers in the air. She shakes her head, staring down.

“It’s not a thing of fault. I should have been more responsible. Im the older brother, after all-”

“Bullshit.”

The suddenness of her words make me pause. It wasn’t unexpected, but it seems a bit more vague than usual. Even for her.

“Y/n i-”

“No. No, Neteyam this has to come to an end. You can’t keep taking the fall for him. How many times will you let yourself fall off a cliff before you learn not to justify the one who pushed you off the ledge?”

I’m quiet for a moment. I feel another frown etch itself onto my lips.

“I must hold myself accountable as well. I am the future leader of this clan. If i cannot even keep my siblings out of trouble, how will I protect my people?” 

I’m sure loak had told her of the scolding we received from my father.

She takes a step closer, the fire in her gaze challenges all it sees. My heartbeat speeds up its sympathy.

“Then who protects you, Neteyam?”

I’m still for a moment. My throat hitches quietly and my words come up short.

She takes a breath and shifts herself back a bit, rubbing two fingers to her temple.

Her eyes creased with exhaust. I can tell the day has drained her.

“I’m sorry. I spoke out of line.”

“You never have to apologize to me.”

I can tell it surprises her a bit. How fast my words chased after her own.

My hesitation creeps its way through the blanket of gray that treads along the silence.

I clear my throat once again, averting my gaze.

“I’m glad you returned safely. I was worried sick.”

She chuckles and gently flips the small spiral in her hand.

“Had my lucky charm on my bow today. I guess i have you to thank.”

I cannot help but feel an ache every time I see that damned spiral. Iv’e tormented myself with an object so small it's pathetic. Really. A substitution for the words i couldn't speak.

I force a smile, a gentle chuckle to follow along.

“Well. I see its made some sort of use.”

She nods and places it gently back into the pocket of her loincloth.

I find myself doing the same, fishing around my own pocket until i hear the small clatter of beads.

Ihold her bracelet out to her.

“Here. You lost this today.”

She gasps softly. My heart beckons for my unspoken yearning whenever i saw her eyes light up like that. And fuck, I curse myself for looking away.

She placed it back on her wrist.

“Thank you, Neteyam. I would have been looking for days.”

When her fingers brush my palm a new wave of sun-streaked warmth swallows my chest in the pale moonlight.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

I would do anything for you.

She chuckles softly and I swear I feel my knees buckle at the sound.

All I can do is stare at her for a moment. My eyes tracing her curves and imagine it’s my fingertips, kissing my small apologies onto her skin.

The small breeze wisps at the small loose hairs that edged at her forehead, scattered out of her braids. Her scent is sweet. Her eyes are wondrously doe-like. 

I wish i could pocket the sounds of her laughter. I wish i could reach for her and brush her skin against mine if it meant even a second of her warmth is relished in. 

I want her. All of her. I want her fire even if it burns me. I want her wild high-tide seas even if they drown me. I want her heart even if I must beg for it. I want her lips, and her hands. I want every rough edge and every smooth surface.

It finds a way to bind me in its threshold of longing before I even register what I've done.

My hand reaches out. The planes in the lines of my palm rest against her cheek and the pad of my thumb rubs small circles on the small temple of a space in front of her ear.

I’d forget I ever existed if it was convenient for her.

There was a time I pretended she didn’t exist. Where fear and thought collided with my panic.

Years ago. After I gave her that spiral.

I made her mere presence become a voidance in my life. A small patch of blankness that traced her shape.

There’s a reason this void stands between us. I hurt her. And I will never forgive myself for it.

I was afraid. I was afraid of what my feelings would do to me. Of what it would do to the future olo’eyktan of this clan. I feared distraction. I feared devotion. And now i yearn for it. Call it a punishment, call it karma or something more. All I know is that I pushed her away. It of my arms, out of my circle, and I thought giving her that spiral would fix my mistakes.

It hurts me. The look in her eyes when I avoided her around the village. The way her gaze chased after me when i walked away

I was 15, afraid and stupid. I still haven’t forgiven myself from keeping her out of my circle.

Now I stand before her. This woman I may never deserve. This beautiful woman who will forever hold my heart in her hands.

She stares at me. But it's full of a sour memory that resonates on the edge of her tongue.

“Neteyam..”

There it is. How she says my name.

Fuck.

Fuck, why did I ever think, even for a mere moment my heart wasn’t hers?

Say it again.

Say it again,y/n please i beg you.

But I don't dare say it aloud.

Instead I whisper to her, my thumb stopping its movements for a moment as i cradle her head.

“Y/n, yawne. I am so, so sorry I didn't protect you today. I couldn't bare the thought of you in danger. “

She pushes my hand away, and for a moment the moonlight feels bitter.

“I don’t need your protection.”

It’s not that I think I don't deserve that.

But is it wrong for it to still ache?

“Y/n. please-”

“It is late, neteyam. I wish to rest now. Please.”

Theres a small tremble in the endnotes of her voice.

And i want to strangle the one who caused her this.

But what more can i do when i caused it myself?

I take a step back, gently bowing my head.

My eyes linger on her for a moment longer.

“Good night, Y/n.”

“Good night, Neteyam.”

As the tent flap closes, I take a step back. Staring up at the moon through the large crevices that topped the mountain of highcamp.

Maybe she doesn't belong in my arms.

I ache for her at night. I dream of holding her. I beg for the figment of her not to feebly collapse into  stardust and watch her wither out of my grasp. Her arrow aims at my heart and I tell her of my heartache.

She says nothing as I’m on my knees for her. Her glare is a cryptic mockery. She weakens me. Every moment of this fleeting moment within my reverie is a punishment. The morning sunset is bitter and the sky feels skeletal. 

To her my devotion is a joke and all I can think of is how fucking beautiful she is when she laughs.

I had a dream once that I kissed her. I kissed her until I couldn’t breathe. She tasted dark and delicate. 

I am hers. I was always hers. 

I’d let her ruin me.

Unravel every piece of me and stitch back together what left is salvaged of those small fragments and watch as they spell out her name.

Y/n.

Y/n.

Y/n.

Y/n.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

The next morning was calmer than yesterday to say the least.

Lo’ak went with my father to hunt.

Kiri went with my grandmother to help in the Tsahik tent.

Y/n was off with her own duties, and that left me to help my mother in our family's marui.

Oh yeah, did I mention Tuk?

It wasn’t abnormal that I often found myself conversing with Tuk.

She sits in with her smaller legs tucked under her body. Her hands are much like mine and my mothers, but small and juvenile. They lack gracefulness as they scramble with my braids, slipping the beads she made all by herself (Kiri helped) into my braids. She giggles when I tell her about my hunts. She smacks my forehead with her palm when I tilt my head the wrong way. She climbs over me in all sorts of odd ways while I wince every now and then at the occasional stepping on of my tail.

“Teyam. Stop looking down!”

Tuktirey huffs and my head snaps up, all my attention shifting to my youngest sibling.

“Ah. sorry tuk-tuk.”

She sighs dramatically and continues stringing the beads into my hair.

I smile at my youngest sister. I was close with Tuk. me and her being the only two children out of my siblings that closely resembled my mother’s na’vi features. I don’t credit myself completely. I don’t think it's fair to say that my mother and fathers genes are divided narrowly. Lo’ak my have my fathers appearance but he wields my mothers rebelliousness with pride. Her survival instincts. Her thrill for a chase. Her fire and her wind. Grandmother always found herself amused whenever my mother found herself annoyed with Lo’aks antics. Apparently my mother was no different when she was his age. Chasing rainstorms and dancing through fire. Grandmother always says lo’ak is my mothers shadow.

Me, on the other hand? i've always strived to be like my father. I still do. I remember sitting around a fire as a small child, listening to stories of his days of battle and heroicness. I don’t glorify my father as much as I did then. But he’s still the same man to me, all the same.

Tuk is in the middle of rambling about her morning gossip she gathered from Popiti, as she strings another bead onto my braids.

It's a bit of a guilty pleasure, I suppose. Being entertained by other’s conflicts.  Certainly not proper behavior for the eldest son of toruk makto. Alas, what kind of big brother would I be if I didn't let Tuk carry herself away with her words without worry?

I can’t hide that I enjoy it. But telling myself its for tuk helps a bit.

“And then what?” I query Tuk softly, urging her to continue her story.

She giggles before placing a green colored bead on my braids.

“Well, Popiti’s big sister, Kyuna, didn’t take Takuk’s courting gift!”

I gasp, over-exaggerating my shock to amuse my younger sister, she nods, equally as shocked.

“I know, right!?”

I shake my head, feining disappointment as Tuk giggles.

“My eywa. Poor Takuk.”

Tuk nods, patting down my braids gently.

I try to look over to my right side at where she sat without turning my head.

“Did she say why?”

Tuk shrugged.

“Popiti heard her mom and Kyuna talking. Kyuna said that she didnt want Takuk for a mate.”

I nod, fidgeting with my beaded choker.

“Huh. Well then, good for Kyuna. She knows what she wants, i guess.”

I trail off with my own internal theories.

I knew Kyuna. She was a young healer in the clan. I didn’t care for her much. She was a bit cocky. Always had some excuse for getting out of tasks she didn’t feel like completing.

I also knew Takuk.

I had been in hunting groups with him. We went through iknimaya training together. He was smart. A fine huner. A decent provider. He seemed like a fine mate for anyone. 

Tuk suddenly gasped, her ears twitching as she stared up at me with her big eyes.

“Teyam! You could be Kyuna’s mate!”

I still at her revelation, she blinks at me with baited breath for  response.

I cant help but chuckle as i ruffle the smaller girl’s braids.

“It's a kind offer, Tuk. But I'm not ready to mate yet. Remember what I told father?” 

Who could forget? The most awkward family dinner in the world where i pleaded with my father to give me more time before I choose a mate. My siblings watching as me and my father bickered for a good hour. I think its really the only time iv’e stood up to him. Disagreed with him. My father has been patient since then when it comes to finding my tsahik. But the only reason he is because of my mother finally convinced him to give it a rest.

Finding a mate can be a long process for some.

I already knew who i wanted my mate to be. There wasn’t any debate. And I will wait for her. I will wait to earn her trust back. For as long as it takes. I will be hers for when shes ready. I am hers even when she’s not. That is a promise I refuse to break.

Tuk huffs.

“But whyyyy? Kyuna is pretty. Not as pretty as mama or kiri or y/n-

But she’s not mated.”

I sigh and gently rub Tuk’s back.

“You’ll understand when you’re older. I promise.”

She huffs again but nods, going back to braiding my hair.

Shes in the middle of telling me about the big fish she caught when my father took her to the creek the other day when my mother enters the tent, a basket of fruits under her arm.

I straighten up a bit and Tuk gasps happily, standing to her feet and jogging over to my mother.

“Mama! You’re back!”

She hugs my mothers waist, and my mother places a hand on tuks head while trying to balance the basket filled to the brim with yovo fruits.

I stand up, gently taking the basket from under her arm, chuckling softly.

“Here, Sa’nok. (mother) Let me take that for you.”

She sighs in releif, nodding at me, now fully embracing tuk with two free arms.

“Irayo (thank you) Neteyam.”

Tuk sits back down in her previous spot and i carry the basket to the small wooden table, placing it down.

“Nice haul today?”

She smiles at me. “The new grove has almost completed its growth cycle. It's almost time for a new harvest.”

I nod, making a mental reminder to tell my father that later so he can organize more foraging groups. 

“Mama, look at how pretty Neteyam is.”

My mother gently examines my newly beaded braids with her fingers, gently taking each braid between her thumb and her palm.

“Very good work, tuktirey. You should help me do mine later. Why don’t you go to your grandmothers tent, hm? I left a large bowl of new beads on the far side corner, near her salve pouch.

Her eyes sparkle and before my mother can say another word, Tuk is racing out of the tent flap.

I laugh along with my mother, and she sits, starting to cut up some fruits.

“Ma’itan, could you help me with this?”

I nod, unsheathing my knife and sitting down next to her, helping her peel some fruits.

A silence fills the air for a moment, until my mothers soft, accented voice breaks through the gray.

“What troubles you, Neteyam?”

Of course she knew.

I was born from the pieces of my mothers ash-littered broken promises and my father’s guilt-ridden internal death sentence. 

My mother and i were tapestries weaved from the same colors.

I am my mother’s son.

She knew me like the back of her hand. She doesn’t have to recognize me by face. I know my father and my mother both love me. But when my mask cracks like this, my mother isn’t like my father. He tries to tighten it to ensure it doesn’t fall down again. My mother tries to mend the cracks.

I sigh, avoiding her gaze.

“Nothing Sa’nok. I am fine.”

I’m a shit liar. That’s just a known fact about me. She knows i’m lying. And maybe thats a good thing. Maybe she knows to just leave it be.

She chucks another fruit skin peel to the side as it forms a small pile with the other discadrded peels. 

“Is it because of your fathers words, yesterday? He was harsh, I know..But he is just afraid, Neteyam.”

That’s not what’s wrong, but I decide it's better than saying ‘hey ma i’m helplessly in love with a woman who probably hates my guts’

Daddy issues it is.

I nod, still avoiding her gaze.

“Yes. I know. Father just wants what's best for us.”

My mother sighs for a moment, pausing her movements, her knife ceasing its carving into the new fruit.

She looks over at me and she smiles.

There’s something about that smile. It’s like an echo that beckons your name. It’s like a face with lines scribbled over it. Sometimes when my mother looks at me I feel as if she’s seeing someone else. Flesh wrapped around the stories foretold under my bones. 

She see’s someone else’s shadow in my place. As if a ghost welcomes itselfinto the sequence of a wreckage of memories unknown to me. 

She speaks quietly.

“Your father and you are more alike than you may think, Neteyam.”

I can’t hep but smile at her words. Theres fanned flowers that grow under the gray cast of gilded clouds under the garden of her irises. She smiles too.

“I mean it, Neteyam. I see more of him in you every day, my son.”

I’m quiet for a moment, but my smile only falters slightly.

“What was he like, my father? When you first met him?”

My mother sighs, the infinite memories flickering past her eyes.

“When I first met your father, I was trying to kill him.”

I can’t help but chuckle. The story all too familiar to me from being told countless times as a child. But it’s not quite what im looking for.

“No, no- i know how you met but-

What was he like? Really?..”

My mother thinks for a moment, not sparing me a glance as she continues cutting her fruit.

“He was stupid. An idiot. I did not think he would survive a single day out here in the forest.”

I hum in agreement trying to visualize everything from her eyes.

“But he was..”

She sighs.

“He was persistent. Like a weak animal with no hope of survival. But it just refuses to die. Sometimes I thought the world moved twice as fast for him..he was eager. To learn, to live. To taste the wind and the sky..”

For a moment, I see a secondary shadow behind the  fragments of my parents love story.

My father told me he felt drawn to my mother from the first moment he saw her.

I see something else in place of the ghost behind the path of stars that led my mother to my father.

I see a man who yearns for a woman. I see a man on his knees, I see his devotion. I see his heart in his hands, i see his stained fingertips of an unfamiliar sleepless skin.

I see a woman so beautiful she might as well be a figment of the moonlight, and i’m jealous of the wind and the air and the breeze because of how easily it touches her skin.

I see her arrow aimed at his heart and the distrust in her eyes. I see her anger, and her betrayal as it echoes through a bitter blue heinous flame.

I see y/n. And I see her wall that kept me out.

I look at my mother, a shell of something that once was taking a new shape.

Was it possible? For history to rhyme?

“How..how long did it take you to love him? Even though he was an enemy.. Even though you didn;t trust him?”

My mother is silent for another moment.

She gently places her knife down, placing her hands on her thighs as she stared at the blank tented wall infront of her.

“I think it was foretold by the stars, ma’itan.

I hated him. I hated him because of what he was and where he came from. I hated his false demon body and i hated the way he walked, and talked. I hated his hair and his hands and his eyes. 

I hated him because of what his people took from me. I hated him because of the pain they caused my people..

The day I found him in the forest i was going to kill him. My arrow was aimed at his heart. But when the great mother spoke to me I knew better than not to listen.

I think i was always meant to meet him. To teach him my people’s ways..Because it led me to loving him. 

That morning when I returned from the tree of souls with him, 

My mother had told me if i choose this path, to be his mate, i could never be tsahik.

I told her, "He was my path.”

I’m still as i take in my mother’s words. But the clouds still creep behind my uncertain heartbeat.

“But hometree. And the war. How did you forgive him?”

My mother gently takes my hand in hers, and she takes a breath

“Ma’itan. You will someday learn that love is not easy. It is hungry. It is impatient. It is loud and it is often hidden.

Love gave me many gifts. You, your siblings, my home and my family.

But it has taken much from me all the same. 

Love is like swimming in the ocean at night. It's deep, it's dark, the shallows far from reach. But Within that darkness I found your father. I found my light, and someday you will find yours.”

Love is sacrificial. My mother was right. Love isnt easy. Love is sometimes caged and flightless, thick with bitter scents and tearstained starlight. Its bare, and its real, its bruised and blemished and its beautiful because its her. Its Y/n. My y/n. Her name is a hymn of scattered prayers lost to a dreaded dawn and a coppered colored sun. She’s made of every broken and perfect piece of the universe and the stars stumble over their words to describe her beauty

She’s the moon and i’m the sun. Withering myself away every night to allow her to shine. 

I will sacrifice. I will work. 

She has weakened me. The night sky canvases her skin while the bleakness of sunlight mosaics mine. Famined for her touch, I refuse to look away. I refuse to blink. The sky is a game of chance and the sunset swallows me whole. The scarlet screams in the hellish hues of cerise ablaze under her skin.

I will not settle for anything less than her.

Love is sacrificial. Then i will steal the night sky for her.

I softly smile at my mother before squeezing her hand.

“Thank you, mother.”

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

(Y/n’s pov) 

Love was a funny thing.

You used to think your love for neteyam was forged from heartbeat-rhythmed nightskies and dripping orange soaked sunsets.

It was dreamlike. Bleeding through every crevice and hidden place with its incandescence. 

He was a part of you. Apart of everything you were and everything you did.

He was in your dreams when you closed your eyes at night.

He was in the shied morning sun rays that crept over the mountain tops. He was in the wild winds and draped under midnight melodies.

Its the memories of smaller things you remember most. 

Giggling while he fumbled with an arrow when he noticed you were watching him practice. 

Helping Neytiri stitch together his cummerbund to gift to him when he had completed his iknimiya. You remember the look of pride in his eyes when he wore a piece of your handiwork to represent this new chapter in his life. Concluding his training as a hunter, and becoming a warrior.

You remember taking walks with him through the forest, and the way he would hold a branch back out of your way.

You remember hunting with him, and racing him down the trailed path. 

You remember perching on a branch and watching the stars with him. You remember his warmth as he whispered to you all the constellations his father taught him. You remember his hands gently guiding yours to trace the patterns scattered among the stars.

You remember a spark.

And then, you remember a gust of wind that dulled the warmth.

Distance. You can recall distance.

It started out small.

Frequent training with his father.

Watching his siblings.

Hunting. Preparing. Working. 

His touch became something you started to crave. Not something that came granted. You remember waiting for him. Waiting for him to return from his hunt, waiting to go stargazing. Liek he promised. You remember checking the sky, the scarlet and blue collide to signify the subduing trials of daylight making its exit.

You remember your mother asking you what you were doing outside.

“Waiting.”

Is all you responded.

You didn’t tell her what you waited for.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

He never showed up.

As the sky darkened, it started to rain.

There weren't any stars that night anyways. spider dragged you back inside. Complaining about how he wasn’t taking care of you if you got sick. 

Maybe it wasn't rain at all. Maybe the stars didn't come out that night because they were too busy falling through the cracks left in your heart.

You felt forgotten. Unloved. Unwanted.

Lo’ak told you that Jake was always on Neteyam’s ass about his training, and thats why he was so distant.

But it wasn’t just the distance.

His eyes no longer brightened when he looked at you. Its the gaze you give someone when they’re speaking to you, and you aren’t really listening. You’re just waiting for them to be done talking.

Spider watched you come home and cry one night, listened to you scream into your palms and rant angrily for hours about the boy who broke your heart.

Then, the night the sky turned red, a new kind of broken was born.

You remember hearing the whooshing of wings and panicked shrieks of stray ikrans, The unfamiliar scent of something metallic and sulfured. 

You remember running into the morning that barely crept ist light over the canopy tips, the still dark sky like a cloak encased the world.

You remember finding your mothers songcord on the ground. You remember finding her body. You remember seeing your fathers not but a few feet away.

You remember the feeling of the air being mercilessly ripped from your lungs.

You remember Jake running towards you, his own panic flooding your ears as he begged you to leave with him. That it wasn’t safe there.

He had to drag you away, holding you tight to him as you practically collapsed into his chest in the front of his ikran. 

You remember stumbling into the village upon return, Neytiri catching you in her arms and the blurred sight of her own tear stained face as she cupped your face in her hands. You screamed and cried and fell to your knees as Lo’ak rushed to your side, shushing you gently and rubbing your back.

You remember showing spider the song chord.

You think he cried harder than you did. You both lost your family that day.

You remember the hollowness in the cup of your palm as neteyam held your hand. 

You remember when he gifted you that spiral under the starlight.

You always thought he was the sun. And now you know for sure.

Forever out of your reach. Aching for the stretches of salvageable warmth blessed upon your finger tips. You could chase it to the ends of Pandora but every night it would abandon you. 

You loved him even if you didn’t know what he was.

Like the sky he was a mystery. Endless but in the midst of the universe it held many treasures he swore he kept just for you. Songs of starlight and supernovas.

You reached for nothing. Hoping to grab the sky and pull yourself into his light. Feel the sunlight on your palm and chase it like the golden hour was a game of chance. 

But now, you knew for sure he was the sun.

But he wasn’t your sun.

This sun was made of stone. It was heavy and roughed. 

The sky was no longer a mystery. The sun no longer honeyed your skin in favor. Tragedy prevailed the night sky and when his blanket of warmth tried to regain its sanctuary of safety to encase your tainted trust, all you saw was a trail of falling stars you called rain and broken promises.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

One of your tasks is to teach the younger children of the clan.

You didn’t mind it much. You often found it quite enjoyable.

You beat out most of the young warriors in your group when the clan was discussing who would train the young warriors. Only the best archer of your age group would have such a role.

It was down to you and a girl named Kyuna. She was skilled, but you were better

You chuckle as the little ones scurry past you, little shrieking giggles as they place their practice bows in a pile. 

You doubted yourself. You doubted your ability to train those younger than you.  What reasons can you give them for fighting when your own was grief?

Seeing the children and watching them learn gave you hope. Hope for a better future. 

The lessons today seemed to drag on. The thought of Neteyams words had lingered in your mind since last night. 

You sighed to yourself softly as you started to gather all the bows in a basket. Letting your thoughts run free.

“Need help with that?”

You swung yourself around, a hand instinctively resting on the top of your knife sheath, 

You found yourself face to face with a slightly taller na’vi boy. His braids to his shoulders. His smile hatched itself on baited breath, his white freckles that scattered across his face.

“Makeyo. For eywa’s sake don’t sneak up on me like that.”

He chuckled in mock surrender, throwing his hands up.

“I know better than to mess with the mighty Y/n. Don’t want to end up with an arrow in my neck.”

You roll your eyes and shoved him playfully.

Makeyo was one of your fathers students. He was a skilled archer, often competing with Neteyam. You grew closer after your parents death. Makeyo was your partner when lt came to training the younger children of the clan. Having already completed his iknimiya, and being a strong piece of the people, he was perfect for assisting you with your role.

“Great practice today, huh?”

The two of you found yourselves chatting while you walked back to the supply tent to return the arrows.

You nodded.

“Ya’here is getting better. Her form has improved.”

He smiled at you, his tail gently brushing your thigh.

“She’ll make a fine warrior one day. She always tells me she wants to be just like you?”

You try to hide the small shock that jolted through you at the sudden contact, with an awkward smile.

“Well, thats scary as shit.”

He raised a brow.

“Why?”

You shrugged.

“Knowing she wants to be just like me? I’m a wreck.”

He sighs, holding the tent flap open for you.

“Well, I think you’re perfect.”

The world seems to still for a moment, and your body feels stiff.

“You’re brave. And strong, and honorable…”

He took a step forward. 

“You’re passionate, and you care for others. Especially those kids.”

He gently places a hand on your arm, its firm, but its not demanding.

You feel your breath hitch, and your tail flicks behind you.

“Makeyo. We shouldn’t-”

“Are we intruding?”

You turn to see spider and Lo’ak.

Lo’ak glares at Makeyo, and spider marches in between the two of you, his smaller frame seemingly less intimidating, but you appreciate the effort.

“All right back it up lover boy.

No no, farther than that. far enough that i don’t smell your lack of personal space.”

Spider tugs at your wrist, shooing Makeyo away.

You groan, smacking  spider with your tail.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Makeyo.”

Makeyo nods, waving awkwardly to spider and lo’ak before making his exit.

“Uh huh. Keep it moving.”

Lo’ak ushers him away and you hiss at both of them.

“Hey. Dumb and dumber. what the fuck?”

You glare.

Spider throws his hands up in surrender, shaking his head.

“I don’t like that guy, sis.”

The three of you start making your way back towards the sully tent for the night.

You bickered the whole way.

Spider sighs,pointing his thumb in the opposite direction. 

“All i’m saying is, big mac over there-”

“His name is Makeyo.”

Spider shrugs.

“Same thing-

But anyways. I don’t like him.”

Lo’ak nods.

“He’s desperate. He wants you bad.”

You roll your eyes.

“Makeyo was just being nice.”

Lo’ak scoffs.

“Y/n, I love you. I really do. But if that’s nice, then flirting might mean getting you pregnant.”

Spider jumps and smacks the back of Lo’ak’s head, making him stumble and wince.

“Son of a bitch-

What was that for!?”

Spider glares at the taller blue boy. 

“Don’t jinx it! I’m not ready to be an uncle!?”

“Who’s going to be an uncle?”

Its the moment you hear Jake’s voice the three of you realize you’ve stumbled into the Sully's tent.

The three of you look at one another, then back at Jake.

Spider whistles, pointing to an imaginary watch.

“Oh boy. Would you look at the time? Time for me to go meet norm for dinner…I’ll catch you guys later.”

Lo’ak calls spider a bitch under his breath for abandoning the two of you two deal with the heap of awkwardness.

Jake resumes his task and Neytiri’s voice calls from inside.

“Lo’ak, Y/n. come on, its time to eat.”

You make your way inside, and Neytiri and Kiri come into view, steaming some meat over a fire.

Kiri waves and jogs her way over to give you a hug, her only slightly taller frame pressed against yours.

“Hey. how was your day?” She hums, tucking a braid behind your ear.

Kiri’s voice was melodic and soothing. It drips like the dew drops onto morning grass, kissed by the forest scent.

You go to answer, but before you can you’re body slammed by a smaller na’vi.

“Y/n! You’re back!”

It only takes a blink of an eye for you to open your arms for her, picking her up and putting her on your hip.

“Hey Tuk! How’s my sweet girl?”

Tuk giggles and nuzzles her head onto your neck.

Lo’ak rudley pushes his way between you and kiri.

“Excuse me, don’t i get a hug?”

He huffs dramatically, flipping his braids like some sort of diva.

“Of course you can, Ma’itan.” Neytiri appears behind him and kisses his head. You and the girls giggle and Lo’ak groans.

“Maaa. come on-”

He swats neytiri away and she chuckles, giving you a quick shoulder squeeze next.

“Did your lessons go okay today? How were the children?”

You take a seat next to Kiri, Lo’ak on your other side as Neteyam takes a seat next to Tuk, 

You nod in response to Neytiri as Jake hands everyone a piece of meat.

“Doing well. They are making progress. They are learning faster every day. I think they will be ready to try larger arrows soon. Possibly farther targets.”

Jake pats your back.

“Nice work, kiddo.”

“Speaking of targets...”

Lo’ak mumbles under his breath,you respond by smacking him with your tail.

“What?”

Kiri raises an eyebrow.

Lo’ak shrugs.

“Makino or whatever his name is was flirting with Y/n.”

Kiri smiles at you, gently shaking your shoulder.

“Makeyo? He is a fine warrior.”

You groan, not noticing how Neteyams ears pinned back slightly.

“Makeyo?”

His deep, accented voice pulls your focus towards where the boy sat.

All the sudden the space arounds you feels a bit shallow. Lo’ak answers for you.

“Oh yeah. He was really quite brave. He wouldn't have been so brave if he knew me and spider were planning to feed him to a thanator.”

Jake sighs.

“Must we plot a murder at the dinner table?”

Neytiri nods, swallowing her food and handing a piece of her fruit to Tuk.

“Your father is right. Besides, There is no rush for any of you to mate. Y/n, Makeyo would make a fine life partner but you need not decide anytime soon, my sweet.”

Tuk pipes up suddenly.

“Teyam is gonna be mated with kyuna!”

Neteyam nearly spits out his water, going into a coughing fit as he repeatedly brings his fist to his chest to attempt to stop it.

Jake immediately started patting his back, concerned.

“Jesus christ boy! Easy now, don’t forget to swallow.”

“You have chosen Kyuna?”

It comes out more bitter than you thought. The mere thought of another woman in his arms stinging an unfamiliar scorch in your chest,

Or maybe..it wasn’t so unfamiliar.

Neteyam finally breathes normally again and shake his head frantically.

‘“What? No! Of course not.”

“Kyuna? Really bro? Shes kinda a bitch…”

Lo’ak says, attempting to mask it with his own fake cough.

“Hey. Language.”

Jake scolds, pointing his knife he was using to cut Tuk’s meat with at Lo’ak.

“Its true though! She’s always hustling me to do her chores!”

Neytiri raises her eyebrow.

“If it happens repeatedly why do you keep falling for it?”

Lo’ak had no answer.

Kiri clicked her tongue.

“Y/n, didn’t you overrun Kyuna’s role for training the younger children.”

“Oh yeah! That's right! Y/n made her eat dust in that archery trial. No surprise there.”

You felt a small heat spread to your cheeks out of embarrassment.

“It wasn’t that big of a deal…”

Neytiri chuckles and Neteyam speaks up.

“so..Makeyo. You work with him?’

You nod.

“He helps me train the younger group of children. He’s actually quite helpful.

You didn’t notice the way neteyams ears pinned back slightly.

But Lo’ak did.

“Yeah. But he sucks at Ikran riding.” 

You raised your eyebrow. 

Come to think of it, You don’t think you ever saw him ride his ikran.

“He is?”

Lo’ak nods.

“He and Neteyam went hunting one time. The idiot crashed into a tree while neteyam swerved it easily.”

You can’t help but laugh at the image, and Lo’ak winked at neteyam.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ 

Authors note:

HOLY FUCKKKK! I’m finally done! This actually did not take as long as i thought it would. 

It’s not as long as the last chapter ya’ll i’m sorry. But hopefully the close times in which both were posted makes up for it?

We’re gonna get some kiri and y/n bonding time in next chapter and hopefully some more jealous neteyam. Btw what did we think of the neteyam pov? Leave some comments about it so i can know whether to add it in later.

Taglist:

@mntx666

@isnt-itstrange

@thebestrouge

@bay7let

@fairuzwhat

@jackiehollanderr

@6423btw

@satesatesate2009

[stvharrngton]

sweet dreams

a/n: requested by @simping-over-boys-with-trauma! hope you enjoy, pls let me know what you think!! 💗

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, smutty dreams, fingering, dirty talk

summary: you have a ✨spicy✨ dream and decide to take care of yourself

taglist: @sweetiestevie @dukesmebby

“Yeah, just like that, baby. Fuck—“ Steve groaned above you, hips snapping against your own as he pounded you into the mattress.

His cock sat so deep inside you, his tip brushing against your sweet spot with every stroke. He damned near pulled all the way out before fucking his cock back into you to the hilt.

Steve pressed down on your back as his other hands gripped your hips to keep them raised. Pretty lavender bruises forming in place of his fingers.

“Oh, S-Steve,” you stuttered out, moans muffled by the pillow your face was pressed into.

“What’s wrong, baby, huh?” Steve groaned out, his hips rolling against your own, his flesh slapping against the fat of your ass, “Pussy feels so fucking good.”

Your fingers clutched the sheets tightly, the familiar feeling in your lower stomach a sweet burn as you grew closer to your orgasm. Steve’s hand snuck round your front, his fingers rubbing harshly at your clit.

Steve leaned over you, lips ghosting over your ear as you felt the thin sheet of sweat that was costing his chest smear over your back. His thrusts were unrelenting, rhythm hard and fast as he fucked you.

“I’m gonna cum, Steve, fuck!” You cried out, eyes squeezed shut as you were right on the cusp.

You awoke with a jolt, your forehead sweaty and body clammy. A quiet groan slipped past your lips as you realised your steamy dream was in fact that; just a dream. Your arousal pooling at the front of your underwear, a sweet wet patch decorating the cotton you were sure.

Steve’s soft snores flowed into your ears from beside you. Your head lulled to the side to get a look at him. His hair was a riot, his features soft and peaceful. Mouth hanging agape just a bit, his large palm resting beside his face on the pillow.

Try as you might, you weren’t getting back to sleep any time soon. You lay still with your eyes closed as the knot in your stomach was ever present. Biting down on your bottom lip you looked at Steve once more.

Sure, you could wake him up and ask him to get you there, to give you what you so desperately needed but he worked late last night. You knew how tired he was when he got home and how much he was looking forward to being able to sleep in the next day.

You sighed, fingers toying with the waistband of your panties below the sheets. The simple gesture enough to send a shiver down your spine.

Fuck it, you thought. The feeling in your stomach wasn’t going away any time soon, the images of your dream flashing through your mind. Not able to get the thought of Steve fucking you deep into the mattress out of your head.

Your fingers delved beneath the waistband as discreetly as possible, your digits sliding through your folds collecting your slick on the way. Pursing your lips together to prevent a moan from slipping out, you felt your body relax against the sheets.

Your teased your pointer finger against your entrance, the tip of your finger pushing into your hole, dragging it through your arousal before pressing into your clit. Your eyebrows knit together as you let out a heavy breath through your nose, the pleasure building up in your core.

The ministrations of your fingers against your clit grew faster in pace, the nub throbbing against your touch. Eyes rolling to the back of your head at the feeling, your free hand reaching beneath your sleep shirt to play with your tits.

You felt yourself get wetter at your touch, your pussy dripping as thoughts of Steve and his hot touches and filthy words flooded your brain. Hips bucking involuntarily into your palm, a pretty moan slipped from your lips.

Your snoozing boyfriend all but forgotten next to you in the bed, the feeling of your fingers against your pussy felt too good. Sure, they weren’t Steve’s fingers, and nothing would ever compare to those, but it was soothing your aching cunt momentarily.

What you didn’t realise was that your movements had stirred Steve awake, propping himself up on his elbow as he watched you get yourself off underneath the sheets. His lips jutted out in a pout, your hand moving faster, your features awash with bliss.

Before you could let the moan that was threatening to spill slip past your lips, you felt Steve’s fingers wrap around your wrist, halting your movements. Your eyes shot open, “Steve? I-“ you stuttered out.

“What’re you doing, huh, baby?” Steve’s voice was low and gruff, still heavy with sleep, “That’s my job.”

You gasped as he moved your hand out of the way and replaced it with your own, his fingers rubbing through your folds so softly.

“What’s got you so worked up this mornin’, sweet girl?” Steve cooed, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“I-“ you whined, cutting yourself off as Steve pressed wet kisses along your neck, “I had a dream.”

“Yeah?” He asked, lips tugging up into a smirk, “And what happened in your dream, baby?”

Your cheeks flushed pink, eyes fluttering closed as Steve rubbed soft slow circles on your clit. You keened under his touch, hips bucking into his hand.

“You— oh fuck,” a sweet moan tumbling past your lips, “I was on my front and you, oh yes, you were fucking me from behind, Stevie.”

“Yeah?” Steve breathed into your ear, his fingers picking up pace now, “Is that so?”

“Y-yeah,” you cried, your fingers grasping his wrist as he moved against your clit, “y’was fucking me so hard and deep, Steve.”

The boy groaned into your neck, your words going straight to his cock. Steve trailed his nose against your jaw, the gesture soft compared to how his fingers were rubbing at your throbbing clit.

“Is that what you want, huh? Want me to pound this fucking cock into your little pussy?” Steve spoke against your skin, breath hot and heavy. Stiff cock straining against his boxers, the soft cotton tight against his skin.

“God, fuck,” you mewled, “jus’ wanna cum, Stevie, please?” You pleaded, wanting nothing more than to be full of your boyfriend, pushing on his forearm, “Please make me cum?”

“Oh, you wanna cum, pretty girl?” Steve mocked, tone teasing. He moved his fingers down to tease at your hole, pointer finger pushing inside.

Your back arched off the bed as you finally got what you wanted, Steve’s long fingers sat deep inside your pussy. Your walls immediately clenching around him.

Steve curled his fingers as they pumped in and out of you at a delicious pace, the tips brushing against that special spot every single time. The wet of your cunt squelched around his fingers, the sound loud in the quiet of your bedroom.

“Oh, yes, Steve,” you wailed, your fingers gripping any part of your boyfriend that you could grab, “just like that.”

You were a mess beneath him. Hair wild as you thrashed on the bed, cheeks hot and flushed and your chest heaving with heavy breaths. Whiny moans and whimpers tumbled past your lips over and over again, gasps of Steve’s name breathed into the air.

“Does that feel good, baby?” Steve whispered, “Like the way my fingers fuck your pussy?” His gaze focused on how your eyes were screwed shut, your pretty little mouth hanging agape.

“So good, so fucking good.” You moaned, your thighs and stomach muscles clenching. The coil inside pulled tight, your heart thumping against your rib cage as you were moments away from your climax.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart? Can feel you clenchin’ on my fingers, shit—“ Steve said with a groan, the palm of his hand slapping against your clit as he bullied your pussy with his fingers.

“Yesyesyes,” you cried out, “‘m right there, don’t stop. Please.” You begged now, voice raspy as your hips bucked up into Steve’s fingers, his thumb pressing into your clit as his fingers filled you to the hilt.

“Come on, baby,” he cooed, “cum all over my fingers like the good girl you are.”

Skin tingling and vision white, your body shook with pleasure. The wave crashing over you like a freight train, hard and heavy. Steve coaxed you through your orgasm with soft kisses and sweet whispers into your ear, praises rolling off his tongue like honey.

His fingers stilled in your cunt as your chest heaved, breath gasping for air. The boy’s face buried in your neck, lips pressing wet kisses all over your skin. Fingers covered in your slick, Steve pressed them against your lips, urging you to suck your own juices off of them.

You groaned at the taste of yourself, brain still a little hazy as your post-orgasm glow racked your body. Steve brushed the tip of his nose against the slope of your own, the gesture soft and sweet.

“You wanna compare dream me to real me?” Steve asked, wiggling his eyebrows with a grin.

You rolled your eyes at him, swatting at his chest playfully as you pulled him down to you for a dreamy kiss.

[tame-the-lion-writes]

[miguel o'hara] holding the world

This is reposted from my AO3!

After a nightmare all about your deepest insecurities, Miguel is quick to comfort you.

In other words: I was having fun reading a filthy as fudge Miguel O’Hara fic, and all of a sudden, literary SUBDROP hit me in the face like Peter Porker had just pulled an anvil out of nowhere. SO--this short little blurb is for all my fellow Miguel O’Hara simps who need something soft to follow up that kinky shit. Not quite aftercare, but a whole--“you exist as a human being outside of sex” sort of thing. Especially when that sort of “post-nut/fic” clarity hits and you need some love. So yeah!-- love y’all.

tags: hurt/comfort, praise kink (that isn't really a praise kink but just comforting), fluff, angst, can be taken in a post-sex manner

His palm presses down harshly between your shoulder blades, forcing your face into the mattress while his free hand bruises your hip.

“This is all you’re good for–” he whispers– “and to think you’re not even that pretty.”

To say that you were innocent would be a lie, but to say that you could take little blows like that on a high without realizing how much the doubt built up would be doubly so. And while your Miguel never degraded you like that–would never even dare to go near such a thing–the insecurities had built up. The dam overflowed.

It’s what made you wake up in the middle of the night, gasping for air, imaginary hands on your neck lingering in the cool dark shadows.

“Mm… mi cariño? Por favor–what’s wrong?”

Miguel’s voice comes out as a mumble, muddled with sleep. And yet, his arm, formerly rested across your waist with lazy affection, is still strong as it pulls you into his chest. His face now nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

“Bad dream,” you answer in return. “It’s nothing… Go back to sleep.”

But he feels the way your body is stiff against his, and the way your chest rises and falls in the wake of frantic pain. He doesn’t believe you.

“I won’t until I know you’re okay. So don’t tell me it’s nothing.”

His voice is clearer now that his concern has further awakened him. But you don’t respond right away – unsure of how to do so. It was a nightmare, you tell yourself. A fear from past trauma and situationships and exes that shouldn’t – and wouldn’t – apply now. You tell yourself he loves you. Miguel loves you. You know you do. 

And yet, your brain doesn’t trust him. Refuses to. He’s too good to be true.

You overthink so much that your words don’t come out natural.

“I– I just… You– you love me, right?”

As you glance up at him, hands on his chest, you see Miguel’s soft expression harden. It almost makes you flinch: you’ve seen so many faces before that it’s hard to distinguish different types of stress. Or more like your own stress keeps you from determining his exact mood. So much so that, for a moment, you think he’ll answer no–

–but better than a yes–

–he sighs and presses his forehead against yours. Lets you feel small and safe and vulnerable all at once. In a way that you let him. And he traces the tips of his fingers down the side of your face–not quite cupping it, but brushing strands of your hair away.

“When I call you mi vida, mi amor, mi corazón – I don’t mean that you’re the love of my life. I mean that you are my heart in its entirety.” He gathers up your hands in his and presses a kiss to your knuckles. “That I am yours as much as you are mine.”

It’s his kindness that makes you break.

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m like this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just– I trust you– I swear I do. But a part of me just nags that you don’t really want me. That all I do is annoy you. That I’m not enough and never will be–”

Miguel doesn’t say anything to halt your rants. He knows you need this moment to vent, and as such, does nothing but shush you gently as he sits upright and holds you in his lap. Once your cries quiet down, he wipes away your tears with his thumb, places a kiss to your forehead. All that, and more.

And seeing you pout, he gives you this half-soft, half-teasing smile.

“... Do you need me to praise you? I’ve got a lot of those up my sleeve, you know.”

You can feel how puffy your eyes are right now. Hell, you can feel all the side-effects of ugly crying–snotty nose, congested throat, raw skin. But Miguel doesn’t seem to care as you come to nod, only complying with what you need, and speaking gently as though singing a lullaby.

“Alright, then. You’re a good girl, you know. No–the best girl. I know you try your best in everything, but when it gets hard and you just want to exist for a bit, that’s okay, too. And have I mentioned how pretty you are? Ay por Dios, the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. The smartest, too. She’s got me like a fool on a leash. Imagine that…”

You can feel sleep take you once again as he speaks. And you can feel the way he moves your shared blanket over your shoulders as your eyelids droop.

What you don’t hear is how he ends his little speech, long after consciousness has departed.

“And you’ll never believe how much I love her. Like I’m holding the world in my arms.”