#NEED to sit and look at the ocean rn

[junkissed]

his eyes are sooo sparkly i could actually cry he is literally the prettiest man in the whole entire universe. the universe itself lives in his eyes

[eau-duresistance]

My favourite things about the whole OceanGate disaster, in no particular order

That the vessel was originally named Cyclops II but the CEO renamed it to Titan, so it’s even BETTER than the Titanic

He also called it indestructible

The guy piloting the vessel is an ex-naval captain who has been on several titanic manned trips. But the guy is 77 rn

The billionaire from Pakistan is apparently friends with King Charles. You’d think for someone who’s besties with a guy whose job was literally being born, he’d care more about protecting his bloodline. Instead, he brought his 19 year old with him

Meanwhile, the stepson of one of the other billionaires (I think the British one named Hamish) went to a Blink 182 concert. When questioned about this, he basically went “my family would want me to go to the concert”. Today, minutes after posting about asking for thoughts and prayers, he @‘ed an OF model on Twitter, asking her to sit on his face

Bc it’s part of the safety demo & music track list for the trip, there is a VERY good chance that if there’s still some power left in the sub, it’s playing an instrumental of My Heart Will Go On on loop

Also, the vessel is a submersible bc it doesn’t meet literally any of the safety regulations to be called a submarine. Which the CEO knew, because he’s blatantly said that safety regulations get in the way of progress

The CEO once stated that he thought the future of humanity was not in space, but in the ocean when the surface becomes uninhabitable

Apparently the controller he’s using has REAL bad reviews because the connection always fails

These idiots paid $250k EACH but they had to pack their own lunch. Not even a damn charcuterie board

The pilot’s seat is on the toilet. So whenever someone needs to go, the pilot needs to move

There’s 1 window looking out. That’s it

It’s about the size of a minivan

The sub uses texts (but only to the CEO’s phone) to communicate, as well as StarLink, but they can only access that if they surface

The door literally cannot be opened from inside

There is a decent chance that at least 1 person has been cannibalized (my bet was the pilot since he’s not rich, but bc of the banging sounds, he’s probs not dead, so it may be the CEO)

They’re supposed to run out of oxygen tomorrow (22/06/23) at 7 am est, but tbh, the CO2 scrubber system will probs fail before that

The toilet is a plastic bag

This is only the 3rd time in 3 years the vessel has gone to the Titanic. Every other time, there’s an issue and they gotta turn back within like 4 hours

A lot of major news networks are trying to remain positive, but it’s a HILARIOUS comparison when you go to social media and every single person is like “yeah that shit is built like a cardboard boat, they’re fucked”

The company’s name is literally called OceanGate

[lokisivy]

Hi! Im a big fan of your work and I saw you were taking requests :) I had a smut fic idea in mind with young (before paralysis) Professor Charles Xavier x fem!student reader. Maybe you and Charles have had some flirty/sexual tension for the longest time until one night when everyone is in bed in their dorms, he reads your mind and notices that you are still awake, touching yourself and having just obscene thoughts of him till he comes into your room and takes matters into his own hands and the rest just be pure smut lmao 👀👀👀 keep up the good work!!

First of all, thank you soooo much for u liking my work. Second of all, it took me like 3 times to process what you requested. I'm ovulating rn, so I'm just so stunned.

Warnings: age gap, mind reading, slight breeding kink, reader is above 18, cursing. use of nicknames, p in v, unprotected sex, daddy kink, slight size kink. let me know if i missed anything

READERS POV

I'm a good student, I focus in class, get good grades, and am always polite to my professors. but there is this one class where I can't seem to focus no matter how hard I try.

Professor Xavier's class like right now I'm sitting in today's class what is the topic? DNA mutation blah blah blah.

he was looking and me oh his eyes were so blue like the ocean I could drown in them- Fuck he can read my mind.

GENATICS! FLOWERS! this isn't working he is smirking he knows what I'm thinking of. I bite my lips hard, trying to think of something else. His arms in that dress shirt sleeves rolled up his hands on my throat- FUCK think of something dark.

"Y/N read page 269 about Genetic mutations" the professor announced "Ahh-" fuck I didn't even have my book open shit. I used my telekinesis to open the page but it didn't I was fumbling for the page until Professor Xavier came behind me and opened the page for me.

"next time focus in class and refrain from having dirty thoughts about me," he whispers in my ears his sharp voice making me sudden goose bumps arise.

"Sorry professor. I promise that it won't happen again" I flirt looking up through my lashes and giving an innocent look.

he leans down to give me back my book "Good Girl."

With my powers, it was gonna be impossible for me to keep him out of my thoughts I was basically a magnet for him my mind like an open book for him. It doesn't matter because no matter what he was my teacher and nothing could happen between us even though I'd sell my soul to the devil for us to touch. and our age gap people would think he was a predator but at this point, I think I am the predator with the unholy thoughts I'm getting.

1:39 Am my clock read I couldn't sleep my interaction with Professor Xavier kept replaying 'having dirty thoughts about me in class'

'good girl' my hands snuck past my nightgown rubbing circles on my clit. imagining Charles bending me down the desk fucking me into oblivion 'Such a naughty girl only focusing on my cock and not the class' I imagined his rough thick accent. I pushed one finger inside me feeling the warmth it was relieving the pressure but not enough I needed more I needed him in every way possible.

3rd pov

You and Charles had always flirted with each other during office hours it was obvious in the being you were attracted to him he was very good-looking and muscular made women weak in the knee and because he could read any person's mind it made it easier for him to know when to flirt back he knew when you were sad or feeling under the weather but when the rumours started to spread around the acted tough with you in class you knew it was a show and it kept all gossip down it not like you were very young you came here after finishing high school to learn about your abilities and how to control them but you were still a student but something Charles never did was crossing the line until today he was awake trying to study a new students abilities. He wondered if you were awake and he was met but dirty thoughts that made his cock burst.

a growl came out of his throat "fuck me!" he adjusted his pants the thought of you touching yourself while thinking of him was gonna make him burst this second he started to palm his cock but could take anymore when your moans grew louder coming close to your orgasm.

Fuck it he thought and walked to your dorm room absolutely angry about the way you made him feel hands running through his hair he was gonna punish you for every time you made him hard, for every time your mischievous ass made him think about you.

He reached your room door knocking lightly not waking anyone and talked to you through your thoughts 'Open this door now!' He interrupted your fantasies making you rise in panic

Readers POV

Fuck Fuck FUCK! How did he read my mind it was 1 am everyone is asleep. I panic opening the door panting from how fast I got up.

"hey proff how you doing, bro?" I opened the door trying to act casual.

"Are you messing with me right now." It was more rhetorical than a question. He slammed the door, pining me against it.

"I-"

"What you thought you could be whore and touch yourself thinking about me and get away with it." He was frustrated both sexually and mentally "and why were you listening to my thoughts anyway I should be able to think what I want without having to worry about you getting into my head." I rolled my eyes. A part of me liked the thrill, but sometimes it was nice to have my thoughts to myself.

"You can block me out but you don't."

"It's exuasting. what you want me to masterbate and think about you and block you out." I sigh

"You don't know how hard it is for me to contain myself from letting all these thoughts of yours come true right now." He leans closer, his body towering in front of me.

Closer.

And Closer.

our lips so close but yet so far.

Till there was nothing but a fine line between our lips.

"Then make them come true." I barely got the words out.

"This is wrong." He voice became deeper

"I saved your life in Cuba professor." I whispered

"Fuck it." He said kissing me knocking the air out of my lungs, his hand come to cup my face our his toung fighting with mine. moving us towards the bed his hands roaming through my my silk PJs unbouting the buttons.

"Charles!" i moaned when his lips contact with my neck marking me plaming and squeezing my breasts, "please" I didn't know what I was pleading for but I needed the relief with the ache that was growing I was so wet aching for him to touch me.

" What darling, what do you want me to do?" he smirked, he knew what I wanted he could read my mind "I- I want you to touch me." I barely whispered my voice practricly unaudioble,"Louder darling?" he disaproved "I want you to fuck me charles like the way I was thinking about when I was touching me self on here." I run my hands through the sheets of the bed.

"Fuck my little whore wants me to fuck her," he growls, he grabs my neck and slams me down the bed causing a moan to leave me. His knee separated my legs from closing. he slid off the top I had on letting my breasts hit the cold air causing my nipples to harden. his thumb ran on my nipples rubbing and pinching. "Charles Please" I beg.

"Have I taught you nothing?" he kissed my chest slowly down to my breasts "Patience is how you achieve everything perfectly. "

"Charles Xavier if you don't fuck me right now I'll throw you against the wall." pull him by his shirt collar kissing him

"I may teach you science, but I think I need to teach you good manners." I rolled my eyes, ripping off his shirt. I stopped to take a moment to take in the sight of his toned muscles, running my fingers through his abs in awe. something inside him snapped at the way I looked at him. he immediately took down my shorts and unbuckled his pants.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked me,"Yes ever since Cuba Charles," I assured me, but something told me he was reading my mind to check if I had any doubts. "Good. Because the moment I start, I won't stop"

"Start first then we can speak about stopping because all I'm hearing is yap yap no acti--" I was interrupted by his fingers entering me all three of them. making me moan very loudly.

"Shh baby your classmates will hear you." he groans at the sight. "S-sorry."

his hands worked magic, and the rhythm was steady, hitting all the good points, building up the fire in my stomach fire that might explode any moment "Charles I'm so close." I whimpered at the loss of contact "Too bad your only gonna cum on my cock tonight" I looked down at his length it was big and thick and precum leaked out his hardness he positioned my left leg on his shoulder positioning himself and entering me at a slow excruciating pace stretching me into half.

"Fuck your so big." now I understood why he was taking it too slow his cock was gigantic that's why he walked around so confidently he is packing.

"Fuck you're tight." he groans the burn started to fade into pleasure "Charles please" probably begged for the millionth time tonight he was killing me. his pace started to grow faster "You are taking me so well darling." he praised me sending it to my pussy clenching on him tighter."Fuck Y/N!" he growls

"Charles faster" he complied going at an unforgivable pace the angle he fucked me in was make me feel all of his length he keeps hitting that spot that was about to explode any second now. my moaning became louder and harder to control probably making someone from outside hear us "Be quiet sunshine" he told me in between his rough thrusts he pinched my nipples lightly causing an overly loud moaning to come out he silenced me with a kiss and replaced his lips with his hand he gave me a warning look then removed his hands. my fingers running through his hair tugging on it tiny moans slipping out of him sending me over the edge with bliss and euphoria washing over me seeing starts in the back of my eyes. his cock twitching "Yes give me all your cum Daddy." I moaned my back arching scratches down his back. his hot warm cum filling my walls making me moan with pleasure it felt right. Charles put my legs down making me turn on my side, as I was about to sleep he grabbed my jaw. "Daddy is not done with you yet sunshine" he teases me.

"let's get you cleaned up sweetheart." he carried me to the bathroom

[writingoddess1125]

You Give them Face Mask! 🧼

Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Usopp, Buggy, Mihawk

Fluffy Fluff

Just felt like more Fluff Fluff rn 😌 Enjoy!

Luffy

Trying to get this man into a face mask is like trying to wash a puppy- A happy struggle and pain in the ass.

"Luffy please" You say with a sad eyes- He will fold after this and let you. However he doesn't sit still so you use a sheet mask that simply helps with oily skin.

"This smells nice" He will say as you have to bribe him with snacks to keep it on for 15 minutes.

"It's rose scented" You say and wear one yourself to keep him still with some gummy candies. Will have trouble sitting still and will start chatting and walking in circles as he waits.

Once it's over he rubs his shiny face and talks about how squeaky he sounds. Utterly destroying your work-

Sanji

Sanji is more then willing to indulge you. Picking out some mild scents and you do a peel off mask since he has deep pores.

"Wanna do the charcoal mask?" You offer which he accepts after finding the scent pleasant enough.

"Do people do these often?" He will flirt and talk about the curiosities in your self care. Once the mask is done he will complain about the tightness.

"That means it's ready to peel!!"

"AHHH! OW!!?" He yelps in surprise as you pull the mask off his face. His face bright red and raw from this so you add some water based moisturizer to his face. You show him the mask.

"That was in my face!?"

Will both be disgusted and fascinated by the amount of gunk pulled from his skin.

Zoro

His skin is fairly flawless which is honestly frustrating since he cares so little for his skin.

You offer the face mask anyway and he refuses for a while bit does eventually fold. You use a snail slime mask on him since it will keep him skin looking flawless.

"This smells funny..." He grumbles as he will lay there listening to you talk, Half asleep and waiting. Will open his eye occasionally and ask a few questions about your interest in this stuff.

You wipe it off and help him rince his face. Skin is pretty much glowing at this point and You stare in awe. "So pretty!"

"I'm going to go train now-" You scream at him in protest in trying to ruin his pretty face.

Usopp

Usopp is willing of course, since the ocean air drys his skin quite a lot. So you use a shea butter face mask and tap his skin with your fingers to help it soak in his rough skin.

"You know I once got a spa treatment from Mermaids like this-' He will spin his tales as You work. When you do rince off the mask you add some nice skin oils afterwards to his skin.

You rub a lot of oil in his skin and he will pause his stories as he judt enjoys the time. Will smell the jar you're using and a softness will run over his face in fondness.

"This smells like the stuff my mother used to use-" He will say with a smile. His skin looks shiny and golden by the time your done, making him look sexy- in his own words.

Will come back regularly to have you treat his skin and will even talk about stories with his mother from time to time.

Buggy

Grease paint wrecks havoc on one's skin Buggys especially since he wears it so much. Needs some detoxing clay mask then a aloe moisture one to replenish. If you're doing his face might as well deep condition his hair as well.

He does enjoy the attention and doing them since his face feels better. Secretly he actually has acne marks from his youth and some scars from before he ate a devil fruit.

"What was this one from?" You ask pointing to a light scar on his cheek.

"Hmm 10- Me and Shanks were trying to figure out blades better. Let's say I learned knives can bounce back at you-" He says amused and letting you work.

"The skin around your nose is dry" Buggy will frown, thinking you're about to insult him since even though he trust you the most his insecurities will win- till you carefully paint the mask on those areas and smile proudly.

"There we go, all better" You say and kiss his hand to go apply your own.

Will sit and listen to you read outloud or talk with him about show ideas as he lays there with the face mask.

"Can we do this every night?"

Mihawk

"No-" He will protest, his eyes narrowing as you offer the mask to him. However after enough begging and ever Perona joining in at pestering him he will fold.

Mihawk gets treated to a full spa day when this happens- A hydrating honey facemask on his skin, cucumbers on his eyes and even a hair mask in his hair to make it softer.

Perona is overjoyed as well as she cleans his nails and applies clear polish to make them shiny and nice! Grumbles the whole time silently and ends up Downing a bottle of wine.

"Do not get used to this-" He grumbles as he takes his wine and drinks from it as you and Perona work. He kinda looks like a spa mom-

Once done this man looks runway ready- His hair is much softer so sets lower, his skin flawless and even his beard looks nicer. Stares at you and Perona deadpanned and sighs-

"Thank you both for the nice gesture..."

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

hold on,hold on,Yandere!Conner Kent x reader🙏🏻

(sorry for bothering😭)

U ain't a bother and if anybody tells you that u do, then, they gonna face my pinky, my thumb and my fist they gonna run. 😼🐺🧏🏽‍♀️ nobody messes with my first ever anon 😠👊

Anyways

The night has fallen quietly over Metropolis, the cityscape softened under a blanket of stars. The world feels smaller somehow, contained within the walls of your apartment where Connor sits, angled slightly toward you, his gaze unwavering yet serene. He has that brooding, intense look—a mix of steel and tenderness—that you’ve come to recognize as uniquely his. It’s as though he’s carrying a burden, one he won’t let you see, and yet you feel its weight as if he’s drawn you into his orbit without permission.

“Connor,” you say softly, trying to break the quiet, “you’ve been… around a lot more lately.”

His eyes flicker, something shadowy dancing behind them, a vulnerability he usually keeps hidden. He doesn’t answer right away, just lets his gaze travel over your features as if memorizing every detail. The room feels charged, the air between you like the fine thread of a spider’s web—delicate and unbreakable all at once.

Finally, he speaks, his voice hushed but firm. “I just want to make sure you’re safe. Is that so wrong?”

There’s a faint, haunting cadence in his words, something raw and possessive yet laced with an almost tragic reverence. You feel the intensity radiating off him, a barely restrained storm beneath his calm exterior.

“Nothing could happen to you,” he continues, almost to himself. “Not on my watch. I’d make sure of that.”

You’ve always known Connor’s protectiveness runs deep, but tonight, it feels like there’s something else lurking beneath the surface. An edge, a quiet desperation that clings to the room, thick as fog.

“Connor…” you say his name with a gentle tone, hoping it might pull him out of whatever dark place he’s retreating into. He’s so close now, leaning forward, his hand reaching out as if compelled by some invisible force. When his fingers graze your cheek, his touch is featherlight, as though he fears you’ll vanish.

“If I could keep you here,” he whispers, his tone taking on a dreamy, almost poetic quality, “locked away from the world… I would. Not because I want to take anything from you, but because I… I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.”

It’s a confession wrapped in longing, and you see the truth of it in his eyes, where constellations seem to burn just for you. There’s something about his gaze that feels eternal, as if the universe itself has handed him the task of guarding you.

“You mean a lot to me,” he says finally, each word slow and deliberate, as though he’s trying to etch them into your soul. “More than you know.”

In that moment, his love feels like an uncharted ocean—beautiful and terrifying, with depths you’re not sure you’re ready to explore. But his sincerity anchors you, and, despite the intensity of his words, you can’t help feeling safe, cocooned in the quiet power of his devotion.

(A/n: is it just me or do you guys also feel suspicious of how I could post every day despite saying I'm too lazy to do so... Maybe my laziness hasn't kicked in yet which is weird and scary considering I'm writing dis rn in front of my 10 homework activities, and yes I am doing it last minute but so what...? I'm too lazy to do all of em and rn I'm don't know what I am talking about... I love yapping but I'm a introvert does it make me a extrovert when i talk too much but not as loud? Guys I'm turning crazy, I need someone to talk to and all my best friends are busy idk why they've been busy since last week....my gf is not replying for like 20 minutes now...im going crazy. Also sorry for spamming the Batfamily tag even though it's not the content I posted, I just feel like it's more famous than the others and also idk how to tag... Though mainly because I'm scared of being a flop hehe...)

[darling-i-read-it]

Burns

Charlie Swan x fem!reader, Carlisle Cullen x fem!reader 

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: age gap (for both men, both are legal but carlisle is like 223297493 years old so do with that what you’d like lol), burns (second and first degree), doctors office, me knowing too much about twilight 

Author’s Note: IM WRITING A PART 2 RN BUT WANTED TO SEE IF YOU GUYS LIKED THIS <3 I literally randomly had a burst of inspo to write this and i lowkey love it…

Summary: You’re a waitress at the local diner to pay off tuition in the summer. You have a small crush on the chief of police who comes in to get his coffee from you. You thought that was all it was until you met the resident doctor when you have a mishap and now you’re stuck between two incredibly charming men that both have a little crush on you. 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Forks, Washington was under a near constant cover of rain. You were aware of it when you woke up in the morning, prepared to see the dreary weather that greeted you through the window. You could smell the rain on the pavement before it came, see it in the clouds as they hovered above. You were always prepared for it, always ready for it. 

Today, the sun was out. Summer usually calls for something more temperate. You found that those days weren’t necessarily unwelcome, but never your favorite. Everyone went outside when it was sunny. You could see people you hadn’t seen in ages. You never made an effort to see them in the first place for a reason. There was an uncharacteristic amount of skin showing. It may only be mid 70s but everyone suddenly acted like the ocean water was a relief to their burning skin. 

You sweat easily, especially in the diner. The Lodge had little to no air conditioning and the sun brought people in droves. Everyone wanted a bite to eat. They all remembered the diner had milkshakes. It was never a great mix for a waitress. 

You turned the corner on your heel, giving a quaint smile to Cora, your coworker. She looked like she was going to melt away. 

“Do you think anyones gonna leave early today?” she asked quietly behind the counter. You shook your head. She had the coffee pot in her hand and was holding it tightly so it didn’t spill. You looked around the packed diner, laughter bubbling from sections where it normally was silent. You shook your head, giving her a sad look. 

“We’re in for one.” 

“I should’ve called out,” she muttered. “You should’ve called out. This place needs us.” You shook your head. 

“You’ve gotta put food on the table,” you reminded her. She had a kid who was going into middle school. You had met her when Cora brought her in, her headphones stuck in her ears and reading some trashy teen novel. 

“Always the voice of reason,” she muttered. “Plus, you gotta pay tuition.” 

“Don’t remind me.” 

You were going to college in Seattle but always worked the summers back in Forks. You loved the little town despite its insanity. You found that most of it was quiet, even on louder days. Plus, it was always easy to find a job back home. You were practically shoved the waitress apron when you returned this summer. You had been doing it since you graduated high school, always trying to find something to keep yourself occupied. You were coming upon your senior year in college and the extra money helped immensely. 

“Hey, your boyfriends here,” Cora teased. She pushed herself off the counter to refill someone’s coffee cup. You furrowed your brows in confusion even though you knew exactly who she meant. 

You watched as chief of police Charlie Swan walked through the doors with a clink of the bell above his head. He met your eyes and gave you an awkward half wave, which you returned slightly more enthusiastically. He walked up to the counter, squeezing between the people sitting there. Someone said hello to him and he gave them a nod in acknowledgment. 

“You guys are busy today huh?” he questioned, scoffing. 

“Just a bit,” you admitted. His presence never ceased to bring butterflies to your stomach. Maybe you were harboring a small/not so small crush on the sheriff but you tried your best not to show it. You assured Cora it was just something silly for you to feel as you passed through your work day. Still, her eyes lingered on yours as she went around the counter to greet someone else because she knew you were busy. “It’s the sun.” 

“Brings out all the loonies,” he said. 

“I imagine you’re busy out there too.” He was always scanning around to make sure no one was doing anything wrong. His eyes flicked from you to the people beside him, then back to you. 

“Taking my 15.” 

“Just to see lil ol me?” you teased. Even as the words left your mouth you felt self conscious of them. This time though, he gave a half smile. 

“You make the best coffee I’ve ever had,” he promised. You tried not to get flustered. 

“Well, it looks like you need a double today, Sheriff.” 

“Charlie, how many times do I have to tell you?” You rolled your eyes. He leaned against the diner counter even though there were no seats. You turned around, every other table lost in your mind. Cora would help you out until he left.

“Well Charlie, it might be too hot for a hot coffee. You could’ve gone to one of those fancy coffee shops,” you offered, grabbing a coffee pot. 

“Yeah, can you imagine me ordering there? I have a hard enough time with you.” 

“I think I get what you mean by now,” you joked. You poured him a cup and grabbed three sugars and two creams. “Anything else?” 

“You always this quick with your service?” he questioned, looking at the people down the line who hadn’t gotten their food. 

“I’m just the coffee girl with a pretty smile. I don’t control the food orders.” You handed him a stirring stick as he opened his sugar packets. “Plus, you’re the chief of police Charlie. I don’t wanna get arrested.” He chuckled, a real genuine laugh. 

“I think I’ll let you off for this one.” You smiled at your success. The laugh was guaranteed to be the highlight of your shift. 

“Thanks Charlie.” You turned back to the kitchen which was starting to call things out. “Anything else?”

“No ma’am.” He grabbed some cash out of his wallet. “Keep the change.” 

“You’re my favorite customer Charlie,” you joked at his more than generous tip of 100%. He did a little salute with his finger and raised the cup to you. 

“Go do your job otherwise you’re bound to get more angry customers than I am.” 

You nodded once and bowed out of the conversation gracefully. You grabbed the food from behind you and started to bring it out. Cora gave you a look as you passed her, the smile plastered on your face a clear tell of your conversation. 

“Peach cobbler,” you said to one of your regulars. She was a small old lady who always came in on Saturdays, at exactly the same time. You enjoyed talking with her and catching up on her life. She got the same thing each time and the consistency was something you appreciated. “Sorry it’s been slower today Miss. Heidi. The heat has the whole of Forks out!” She shook her head, brushing you off. 

“No worries at all,” she assured you. “It’s not like I’m not gonna come back.” You shared in her shaky laughter. She picked up her fork just as you were about to leave and pointed it at Charlie. “You making heart eyes at the chief over there sweetheart?” You flushed immediately. Maybe you weren’t so great at hiding it. 

“Maybe. But keep your mouth shut Heidi,” you whispered with a smile. She chuckled. Her eyes lingered on Charlie who was finishing his coffee already. He had started a conversation with the man beside him. Charlie seemed to know everyone in town. 

“Aren’t you a little young for him?” You rolled your eyes. 

“It’s perfectly constenting and legal,” you assured her. “I’m plenty older than his daughter if that’s what you’re gonna say.” 

“I was gonna mention.” Her eyes wrinkled at the edges, shaking her head. Her movements didn’t feel like she was disagreeing with you. More so that she was gossiping with a friend, just girls being girls. “He had his heart broken by her mother, you know. He’s a good man.” 

“Is that your consent Heidi? Because I don’t even know if he feels the same way.” Your voice was lighthearted. She grabbed your hand, her saggy skin feeling comforting. 

“I wouldn’t worry too much sweetheart.” You scrunched your face a little and shook off her words. You were still on the clock. 

“Enjoy your peach cobbler Heidi.” 

-

You brushed your hair out of your face. The sun had finally subsided for the evening, giving way for the clouds. You embraced their presence, appreciating the way that the cool air felt on your overworked skin. Cora was still hanging around after her shift, waiting for her husband to come pick her up. You sat on the back steps of The Lodge, watching the trees sway. 

“The air feels so crisp,” you muttered. 

“You say the weirdest things,” she grumbled, laughing. She was leaning against the building. “It’s the trees.” 

“I know.” You were going to leave right after work and finally drive back home but you needed a moment to sit and enjoy the day. It had been a long shift. Cora and you were officially trauma bonded. 

“How was the chief?” 

“Good,” you promised. “Sweet.”

“A guy can be sweet and catch criminals?” 

“He’s assertive,” you argued. When Cora laughed she did it with her whole chest. 

“Honey, you’re down bad.” You rolled your eyes and stood up. Cora’s eyes followed you as you did so, turning back to the door inside the diner. “You’re goin back into that hellhole?” 

“Forgot my phone,” you said. “Also, I am not. It’s a work crush. I’m entitled to one! Just like you like the produce guy!” 

“I do not like the produce guy. I think he’s hot. Big difference!” You rolled your eyes as you opened the door back inside. The heat hit you again, unpleasantly. You had to weave through the cooks to get back to the front. You couldn’t remember when you had put your phone down. You were making a phone call during your break. Maybe you had left it on hte steps outside after all? 

“Hey Jerry?!” you called to the cook in the back.

“What?!” 

“You seen my phone?” 

“No! All I’ve seen are burgers!” You rolled your eyes harder this time and dipped underneath the counter to see if you had put it with the sugars and stuff. You let out an annoyed groan when it wasn’t there. 

You turned too quick and ran right into the closing waitress. She was holding a hot pot of coffee and effectively spilled it all over you. You gasped involuntarily, the feeling of scorching coffee seeping through your clothes. The gasp turned into a seethe as you packed up. You could hear her speaking, the high pitched, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” reverberating off your eardrums. You had dropped coffee on yourself before. All you could think of was that you needed a towel and some cold water. 

You turned on a dime and walked back to the kitchen. You turned on the sink back there and fumbled your hand around for a towel to use. 

“Jerry, towel,” you mumbled, the burning skin now setting into a tingle. He turned his head around and saw you. He started to fumble around. You walked in front of him to grab the towel and just barely lost your balance, causing your hand to fly up onto the table. 

Right onto the stove. 

This time you yelped. The coffee was already forgotten as there was now more of an issue at hand. 

“Woah dollface!” Jerry exclaimed. He grabbed your wrist because you were just staring at your red hand. You had put your entire palm down. You looked up at him, tears staining your eyes from pain, and he brought you over to the sink. 

“Oh fuck,” you groaned as he put it under the cold water. It didn’t subside any pain, just added another sensation. “Jerry that hurts!” 

“Hey Y/N, I have your phone in my apron.” Cora came through the door to witness you breathing heavily next to the sink, Jerry the cook practically holding you down. 

“She burned her hand on the stove,” he explained. 

“She spilled coffee on me,” you blubbered childishly. You could feel all your body parts at once, like you were on fire. You had no brain power to say anything else. 

“Oh Jesus,” Cora muttered. She rushed forward, grabbing your wrist to look at it. “You gotta get this checked out honey.” You gave her a somber looking face. “I know, I know. I’ll take you. Where’s your car keys?” You reached in your apron with your non burnt hand. It was soaking wet from the coffee. 

“Is she okay?” the waitress asked, sticking her head through the window. 

“She burned her hand on the stove,” Jerry said. 

“She what?!” 

Cora put her hand on your back, leading you out the door. You took deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth. You were fine. You were gonna be fine. 

“I’ll be okay,” you whispered. “You have to g-”

“I’ll have Steven do it,” she said. Her husband. You gave her a look of pure thankfulness as she helped you into the passenger seat of her car. 

“I really don’t have to go to the hospital over this,” you tried to say. 

“I know you don’t. But I think it’s safer than waiting.” You put your head against your headrest. 

-

Cora dragged you by your free arm to the front desk. She was the one who gave your name and your information as you stood beside her, holding your hand. You looked like a mess, given the coffee all over you. You were sure this could all just be fixed by some water and ointment from the store but Cora insisted. 

She rambled on about how a family member hadn’t gone in for a burn and it ended up being more severe then they thought, damaging below the skin. Her words were not comforting. 

Eventually they called you back to be looked at. You sat on an exam table with a thin paper on top. A nurse had come in to check on you and give you something for your hand while you waited for the doctor. 

You were in a row of beds. Cora pulled the curtains aside to give you privacy. 

“I really don’t think that’s necessary,” you said. 

“They don't get to know all your business. HIPAA or whatever.” You squinted. 

“I don’t think-” 

“Ladies.” Carlisle Cullen stepped through the curtain at the open side. He was holding a clipboard, a charming smile plastered on his face. Your breath hitched at the sight of him. He was gorgeous. “Y/N, I hear you burned your hand.” You nodded. 

“And her chest,” Cora muttered. She must have noticed Carlisle’s looks as well. Or maybe she just noticed your reaction to him. You cleared your throat. 

“I had coffee spilled on me.” 

“No, you should check it out. It’s bad.” You gave a look. Carlisle’s smile remained, shaking his head. You had heard of him but never had a reason to come out and see him. You wouldn’t even call this a valid reason. 

“Sounds like an awful case of bad luck.” You nodded. “Can I take a look?” He sat on a spinny chair and pulled it towards you. You extended your hand to him. 

“I’m gonna go call Steven,” she said to you. You nodded. She patted your back, her eyes lingering on your doctor even as she left. Carlisle held your hand in his, gently looking it over. You looked down at him. 

“A stove did this?” 

“Yeah. It was dumb,” you promised. “I lost my balance looking for a rag for the coffee burn.” 

“And that’s okay?” You nodded. 

“I think. I mean, my hand feels way worse,” you assured him. 

“Your friend seems to think otherwise.” 

“Cora’s dramatic by nature.” He laughed gently. 

“Well the stove fought back.” He wheeled backwards towards the table beside your bed. “It looks like second degree burns on your hand. I’ll send you home with some ointment for it and you’ll wanna wrap it up so that you don’t get it caught on your clothes or anything.” You nodded. “I’ll wrap it for you first, show you how to do it.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Of course.” He stood up and fumbled in the desks drawer. “Are you sure you don’t want me to check on the coffee burns?” He glanced back at you. You looked down at your shirt. It had mostly gotten your stomach. You could still feel pain there, probably driven by the fact you never got to clean it off. 

“If you think it’ll help?”

“Stomach burns are interesting just because of their placement. It’s harder to wrap them. I think it would be beneficial for me to make sure they’re only first degree, if anything.” You nodded. You would listen to him read the phone book. 

“Okay.” He walked back over. Before even touching your shirt he made eye contact with you. 

“Only if you’re comfortable. I can wait till your friend comes back if you want me to.” You shook your head. 

“I’m okay!” you promised. You cleared your throat and grabbed the hem of your shirt. You carefully lifted it up over your torso, holding it just above the wet spot. Carlisle’s eyes went down to your body. 

“You said the hand hurt more?”

“By far.” 

“Can I touch you?” Please. You cleared your throat again. 

“Sure.” He put an icy hand on your hip, lightly brushing your burn with his thumb. 

“How much does that hurt? Scale one to ten?” 

“Five.” He applied more pressure. 

“Now?” 

“Seven. Your hands are really cold, which could be worsening the effects,” you joked. He chuckled, his lips turning up a bit. 

“Sorry about that.” He backed up a bit. You put your shirt back down. “Those are first degree burns. It only hit in some spots. Should feel numb or touchy for a couple days. You can put the ointment there too but you shouldn’t have to wrap it up.”

“The hand needs it.”

“The hand needs it,” he agreed. He had put some stuff on the counter, which he now took in his hands. He squeezed something out a bottle and put a bit of it on his finger, taking your hand back in his. “Let me know if the pressure is too much.” 

You watched him, your free hands fingers curled under the bed you were sitting on. He gently covered your hand, using such a light touch that it was like he was barely there. 

“You’re good at this.” 

“It’s my job,” he said, smiling. “Are you from out of town? I don’t think I’ve had you in here before.” 

“Just lucky,” you quipped. “I go to college in Seattle too so I’m usually out there.” He nodded slowly. 

“Fancy.”

“The drive back is beautiful.” He nodded slowly. His hand lingered on yours as he examined his work. “So is this town.” 

“Do you work at the diner?”

“Yeah! That’s where I got this beauty.” He scooted back, grabbing the bandages.

“I think my son’s seen you there. He’s graduating high school in a year and likes his seclusion,” he explained. 

“Son?” you asked. 

“Edward.” 

“No, I’m just stunned you have a child. You look far too young,” you said, laughing incredibly. He grinned sheepishly. You tried not to think of him being married or the lack of ring on his finger. 

“He’s technically my foster son,” he described. 

“I see. Do you do it all on your own?” You winced. That was aggressive. “I don’t mean to pry.” “It’s alright,” he said, shaking his head, completely cool. “Yes, they’re all under my care. I haven’t found the right one quite yet. Plus, she’d have to take on more than a couple stragglers with me.” His eyes flicked up to yours. They met for a moment longer than they should have. You had to look away. 

“Sounds like a task.” 

“It’s definitely not for everyone.” He tightened your bandage. “There. I’ll send you home with some of this, it’ll be sent to wherever you get your prescriptions.” He stepped back from you. “Try to be careful around stoves next time.”

“Yes sir.” He gave you one more look, a kind hearted smile and then was on his way. You followed him until he was gone out of view. You were glad he hadn’t checked your pulse because you were sure it was beating out of your chest. Cora came around the corner. 

“He’s too old for you too,” she said. You laughed dryly, shaking your head. You could practically still feel his touch on your hand. So gentle. 

“You’ll learn to get used to it,” you teased her. She rolled her eyes. “Were you waiting out there the whole time?” 

“Wanted to give you and Doctor Dreamy some alone time.” 

“You’re such a wingwoman!” 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell the Sheriff.” 

Part 2

[raitonsfw]

𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚟𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚜 | 𝚓𝚊𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗

synopsis: You adored beach days with Eren, it was one of your favorite pastimes. You two would lounge in the sun, basking in the afterglow of a tan. But when he’s got a remote controlled vibrator pressing incessantly against your clit… suddenly relaxing became much harder (or easier) than you expected.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, modern!eren, boyfriend!eren, exhibitionism, sex toy but more specifically a remote controlled vibrator woohoo, dirty talk, petnames (babe, baby), slight degradation but mostly praising, fingering, finger sucking, overstimulation, squirting, eren gets jealous over the vibrator, rip mikasas’s pink towel. 

a/n: my best friend requested a beach vibrator/exhibitionism type scenario and eren was the perfect character to write it with, literally having aot brainrot rn so enjoy me simping for this fucker in my writing! wc: 1.8k. m.list

now playing: good vibrations by the beach boys (obviously)

divider credit: @benkeibear

The beach was awfully cramped today. Dozens of families cluttered the golden sand and you instantly felt self conscious. Not because of the swimsuit you were wearing, but the oval vibrator that was nestled right against your clit, waiting to be switched on. You glanced at Eren who was casually setting up the umbrella into the soft patches of sand and you crossed your arms against yourself, looking back out towards the glittering ocean. 

It wasn’t your idea to wear the vibrator, Eren had insisted with a ‘it’s waterproof, you’ll be fine honey,’ and you took his word, thinking what could possibly go wrong? But now that you're actually standing in the middle of the beach, you weren’t so sure if you could play off your arousal as you anxiously waited for him to press the button. 

Eren had his hair pinned up in a small bun and when you glanced down to his body, you nearly went stupid. It was hot outside, so of course he was already sweating as he set up the beach essentials, the sweat gleaned from underneath his white shirt as it lifted up when he stretched over to move something. You didn’t have much time to soak it in though before his shirt was promptly pulled off and his muscles were on full display in front of you. 

And oh fuck, maybe you didn’t even need him to turn on the vibrator. 

“Y/N, come sit down.” You heard him say as he sat down and you obliged, patting the sand off of your flip flops and putting your belongings on the edge of the salmon towel. You pulled off the cover up you had on, revealing your swimsuit and your hand subconsciously grazed over your lower tummy, worried that people could see the vibrator’s prominence. Eren whistled sharply as he looked you once over from his sunglasses. “Damn, babe…”

You shot him a look but then your mind wandered off as you took a good look at him. You just wanted to know where he kept that devious thing. But seeing as he leaned forward with his knees up and his forearms resting on them, his hands were completely empty and he smirked at you when he noticed where your eyes landed. 

“Looking for the remote?” 

“N-No, I was just thinking about how funny you looked sitting on a tiny pink towel.” You stuttered back, sitting in between his parted legs. His hands came to rest against your shoulders and you sighed, leaning back into him. It was truly a beautiful day, the sun glistened onto the sea with the rays beaming against your skin. The umbrella didn’t shield you two much but it was better than nothing, the inch of privacy comforting you as you waited for the inevitable. He had propped the two beach chairs on either side of the towel as well so that added to the depth of what covered you two.

“It’s Mikasa’s towel.” Eren admitted with a chuckle, like you didn’t already know. He planted a kiss against your exposed shoulder as he rubbed his hands gently down your arms.

Your eyes slipped closed as he trailed his lips up towards your neck, but you shook off his teasing. You vaguely felt him shuffle behind you, unaware of what he was grabbing and you clenched around nothing as you thought of him pressing the remote. “Eren, there’s people around.” 

“That’s the whole point, duh. Besides, I’m only putting sunscreen on you.” He grinned slyly as you heard the click of the sunscreen bottle echo in your ears and the cold lotion basically felt like ice as he slathered it against your back. Your skin was already so unbearably hot, from the sun and from his constant teasing, and the fucking devil basically sitting in between your thighs. You flinched, earning another quiet chuckle from him. 

“You’re so on edge today, it’s cute.” 

You didn’t respond as you tried to relax in the way he massaged the sunscreen into your skin, but all you could think about was the pressure you sat against and you couldn’t help but subtly grind against it. It barely did anything but you still sighed as you felt a tiny ripple of pleasure erupt throughout your body. You felt Eren’s calloused fingers stop rubbing the sunscreen in and you stopped your hip movements with a shudder as he sucked a slight hickey into your neck. 

“Someone’s excited, hm?” Eren hummed as he gave you the sunscreen bottle, a smirk buried in the crook of your neck. “Here.”

You lathered the sunscreen over the rest of your body as he turned on the speaker you two had brought, not very loud of course; you didn’t want to draw too much attention to yourself. Your music playlist came pouring through the speaker and you relaxed a bit more, the bass of the song thrumming into your veins. It distracted you from the vibrator dilemma and you happily sang along to the tune, watching some kids near the water make a sandcastle.

And then the fucker pressed the button. 

“Eren!” You gasped out suddenly, dropping the sunscreen bottle in your hands. They flew to his forearms that had wrapped back around you and your legs clamped shut as it seared pleasure into your clit. It buzzed viciously against you and you couldn’t do anything but take it, shaking lightly in Eren’s arms. He had put it on high too, that goddamn bastard and a moan threatened to spill from your lips. 

“What is it, baby?” He asked, his voice almost mocking your high pitch. The remote was wedged into his left hand and you wanted to snatch it away and throw it into the ocean. You were much too close already, the comfort of the song you sang falling away and you leaned back into his chest with a tremble. 

Your fingernails dug into his forearms and you felt him hard against the small of your back, pressing into you there as you got off on the incessant vibrations. You tried to keep your mouth shut but tiny whimpers forced their way out and you swore you felt him grind up into you with a breathy laugh. Eren flipped the remote in his hand, toying with it and your back arched into the droning sensation. 

You squirmed against him, trying desperately to stay still and to stay fucking quiet. But it was insanely difficult, especially when Eren parted your legs again as he threw your disposed cover up between them. His free hand slipped underneath your arm and down your chest, straight to your swimsuit bottoms and you keened at the way he pushed the vibrator harder onto your clit. He kept it there as his middle and ring finger plunged into your slick without warning. He gathered some of it onto them and then pulled them out with ease, tutted quietly as he examined with a furrowed expression.

“All because of this damn vibrator, huh?” Eren sucked them into his mouth like a fucking whore, tasting you on his tongue and you whined at the action. “How come this doesn’t happen when I’m fucking you?”  

You didn’t know if anyone was looking your way and honestly, you didn’t care anymore as your orgasm came bubbling up to the surface. Eren clasped his hand over your mouth, muffling the moan that came from you as you convulsed against the softness of the towel. It crashed over you harshly and you almost bit the remote that was pressed against your lips as the vibrations overstimulated you– it was too much, all too much and you gasped for air as he switched it off with the press of his thumb. 

“Shhh, it’s okay baby.” He shushed you, kissing the back of your neck as you came down from your high. “Breathe.”

His palm fell from your mouth, dropping the remote near your leg and you audibly sighed out in relief until you felt his other hand back between your legs. His fingers slid back into your wet heat and your breath hitched, discomfort circling in your abdomen. You were so, so sensitive and all you could think about was how to get your thighs to stop twitching involuntarily. “I’m not fully convinced. How the fuck did you get so wet from a toy?” 

“Eren, hold on, please hold on…” You pleaded, your entire face flushed red and you panted as you felt pleasure seep into the pit of your tummy again. You felt the cover up fall from your waist and you knew you were exposed now, his hand inside your bottoms and-

“Don’t worry, no one’s looking. I promise.” His words flew out in almost one breath as he felt the flutter of your walls against his fingers. He was so fucking hard in his swim shorts, he needed to get his hand on himself so badly but he wanted– needed to watch you squirt from just his fingers. How could such a little toy be so enticing to your pussy when he was right here? In the back of his mind, Eren knew it was probably just the scenario he set up for you, his control over a toy looming over you like a dark cloud. But it still made him fucking jealous.

God, he really wanted to make you squirt in public. He wanted you to fall apart all over his fingers whilst families sat a few feet away, tending to their screaming children or drinking from beer bottles without the slightest clue as to what’s going on right behind them. 

He curled his fingers into you headily, right against your sweet spot and you moaned at the overwhelming feeling hurtling up your spine and fuzzing your mind over. The music had been turned up a notch, you vaguely realized, for your sake. Because you just that fucking loud, mewls and whines coming from you. Eren pressed his dick up against the small of your back harder, grinding into it as he kept pushing into you quickly.

“C’mon, baby...fuck, I know you can squirt.” He groaned into your ear, watching over your shoulder with darkened eyes. He fumbled for the remote again, aiming to turn it on to rush you along but it was too late as you leaked all over his fingers, against the polyester fabric of your swimsuit, and all over Mikasa’s towel. It gushed out of you with a high whimper and you bucked his hips into his fingers in ecstasy. 

“Yeah, that’s it, my God. So much for me…” He cooed, pulling his fingers out and covering you up again with your pull over. He patted your thigh lovingly and you scowled at him, smacking him on his leg hard. 

“Mikasa’s gonna kill me!” You whined out, still out of breath and all Eren did was laugh. 

“Mikasa’s not going to get her towel back.” 

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[lxkeee]

I'M IN THE WIND, YOU'RE IN THE WATER

PART TWO

-Angel! Lucifer Morningstar x Mermaid! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Fanfiction/Romance with slight angst

Synopsis: what if there are other supernatural beings that existed alongside angels?

Notes: If only I wasn't lazy in making my titles have ombre colors I would've had pretty colorful titles rn>:(

PART ONE | PART THREE

It has been a few days since the two immortal beings of different kinds met, Lucifer and [y/n]'s friendship bloomed. Occasionally spending time by the island and getting to know each other better, at the very same shore where [y/n] had dragged Lucifer to save him from drowning. Sometimes the two liked exploring the area around the island, Lucifer flies gracefully against the wind while [y/n] swam beautifully in the water, just like now.

Large and majestic white wings spread out behind his back, flapping to keep himself in the air. The golden rays of the sun caressing his skin, his blue eyes squinting against its harsh rays, a grin plastered on his face as he performed tricks in the air—twirling and diving, truly astonishing to watch as [y/n] admired him as she swam underneath the cold dark waters, the cold waters of the sea hugging her form, her large majestic tail swaying against the strong currents and allowed her to keep up with him. The water runs against her scales, caressing her skin.

Raising her arm up, allowing it to break past the surface of the water. The water currents hitting her arm as she reaches up to the angel flying above her.

Lucifer's eyes gleam, a grin forming on his face as he looks down on the water, his form reflected on the clear and crystal blue waters, he could see his friend's majestic form underneath, swimming to catch up to him.

Without hesitation, he reaches towards her—extending his arm and allowing his warm hand to intertwine with her cold ones. His soft hands against her round ones, their hands a perfect fit like it was made for the other to fill the gaps. His light blond locks fluttered against the wind, it was neat and tidy but now it's messy from the strong winds. [Y/n] laughs underneath the water as she sees how messy his hair is but despite the mess, he still looks beautiful to her. Blue eyes focus in front of him, his tongue sticking out in the process, a small smile on his face. Majestic, absolutely divine. Her eyes dilated as she admired him.

Reluctantly, she slowly removed her hand away from his—this caused the angel to pout slightly, he genuinely enjoyed holding her hand. With a soft sigh and a small smile on his face, he opts to let his hand run against the current, feeling the coldness of the ocean against his skin. Thoroughly enjoying the sensation of her home against his hand.

Lucifer smiled softly, eyes half-lidded and dilated as he looked at her majestic form swimming underneath the crystal like waters. Her hair swayed against the currents of the water but still looked so silky and soft.

No words needed to exchange between them, this is enough.

Eventually, things have to end. The two returned to the shore. Lucifer helping her, of course. They didn't notice how much time had passed, finally realizing how much time they spent just flying and swimming around and having fun. They sat beside each other, gazing at the horizon and admiring the setting sun. Pink, orange, red, yellows, and blues painted the skies, stars beginning to be visible, birds flying over the clouds and towards the horizon.

The sounds of the waves and the sounds of the birds chirping fills their ears.

They remained quiet, sitting side by side. Her hands support her body as she planted them on the sandy grounds of the shore, his hands on the hand is placed on top of his knees. Lucifer tilted his head to look at her, admiring how the sunset is reflected through her eyes, the rays highlighting her eyelashes. Beautiful, he thought to himself, unaware how much his eyes dilated the moment he gazed at her.

His eyes lowered to see their hands just so close to each other.

Without thinking, he moved his hand and placed it on top of hers.

[Y/n] flinches slightly from surprise, Lucifer's eyes widened at the reaction, thinking that the physical contact was unwanted. He hesitantly and slowly moved his hand away from hers.

"Don't." She says softly, tilting her head to face him. He loved how her eyes sparkled when she looked at him. [Y/n] smiled softly and decided to remove her away from the sand, wiping the excess sand away from her skin and gently intertwining her hand with his.

Silence, aside from the loud beating of their hearts that only they could hear.

Of course, the other didn't know how much and how hard it was beating against their ribcage.

They shyly gaze away from each other's eyes, pink dusting their cheeks. The two of course, not knowing why their hearts are acting like this or why they feel so incredibly shy.

With courage, [y/n] leans her head against his shoulder. He flinches slightly but eventually calms down. Leaning his head on top hers in return. He could feel his suit getting soak a bit but he doesn't mind, not one bit. Extending his wings, he wrapped it over her shoulder, keeping her warm against the cold ocean winds. [Y/n] smiled softly, snuggling more against his side for warmth.

He's so unbelievably warm, in a comforting way.

“Thank you...” She whispers softly as she snuggled against his side, staring up at him through her eyelashes. He loved the way her eyes looked through her eyelashes, he could see his reflection on them, he could see the stars and galaxies in those [e/c] orbs of hers. A smile found its way to his face.

“It's nothing much, I don't want you getting a cold now.” he says with a small chuckle, the two resumed to staring at the horizon. [Y/n] chuckles softly beside him.

“Me? Getting a cold? I doubt it.” she says playfully and he rolls his eyes teasingly.

“Whatever you say.” he says with a small chuckle. Silence falls on them once more.

Absolute peace, they could get used to this. They wished that time would remain still.

TAGLIST:

@kaurochika @akemika75 @kouyoumarryme @local-mr-frog @myluckymoon @nirvana5874 @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @yukichan67 @apple-pop @akiralovespenguins @storydays @kaurochika @amphiroxx

[akoyaxs]

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

──────⊱⁜⊰──────

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

“Yep.”

And that had been just that.

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

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

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

Which leads to one fact; Aonung is a slut.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aonung just chuckles, and you scowl.

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

And finally he does, reluctantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right,” Kiri says unconvinced.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So what were these shameless, perverted idiots playing at?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had changed since the afternoon, Aonung notices.

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

He would have definitely remembered seeing you like this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aonung is not happy to hear that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eywa, he really didn’t think this through.

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about Ta’ru-”

“Incompetent,” Aonung interrupts again.

“Or Kayo-”

“Lazy-”

“Zäki?”

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

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

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

“I don’t know,” he says truthfully.

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

“I brought you unilpay,” a voice interrupts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course she want-”

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

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

“Come on taw-”

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

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

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

“Now,” Aonung adds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

Filthy. Lewd. Wrong.

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

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

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

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

There’s something just so filthy about this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The real answer is how could anyone fucking not be.

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

His little friend.

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

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

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

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

“You will go swimming?” he asks dubiously.

“Yup.”

And that does it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just get over here skxawng,” you grumble.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And suddenly, he notices something.

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

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

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

He clears his throat.

No no no.

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

There is something different. Something off.

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

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

It’s green.

You give a little hum of acknowledgement.

“What for?” you reply quietly.

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

He counts seventeen little pink flowers in the tree above.

“Right.”

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

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

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

“And for upsetting you.”

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

“I’m not upset,” you say quietly.

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

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

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

“Do what.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They are not fit for you, tsawksyul.”

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

“Then who is?” you say dully.

“Not anyone here,” Aonung tells you.

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

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

“So… I don’t get anyone,” you say.

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

“You don’t need anyone.”

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

“Right,” you snap.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In what way?” Aonung asks, confused.

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

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

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

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

You freeze. So does he.

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

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

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

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

Silence.

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

“I love you too.” 

“Please just forget- wait what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Guess so.”

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

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

“God, I love you.”

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

Fuck.

Eywa.

How had he managed to go this long without this.

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

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

Well, good riddance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck yes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“God- Aonung!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Care to fuck me now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take these off.”

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

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

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

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

He laughs, and you scowl fiercely at him.

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

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

“You already did, tsawksyul,” he whispers.

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

“Yes ma’am.”

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

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

“Fuck yes.”

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

It’s bare – skin on glorious skin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ye- yes.”

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

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

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

It takes everything in him not to let loose immediately.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I kiss you, tsawksyul?”

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

“What?”

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

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

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

And he does.

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

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

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

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

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

Aonung smiles.

“I love you.”

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

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

Eywa, he’s so happy to have you here.

His little friend.

──────⊱⁜⊰──────

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

[lemonsprite]

𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 || 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐆𝐍! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐓𝐚𝐯)

Summary: Tav finally gets to pet the gods most loveable creatures

Word count: 598

Warnings: none^^

A/N: gn! Tav/reader, sorry to all my above average height baddies reader is smaller than Halsin :(, so much fluff it’s gonna make you vomit I love him!!!!!! Ambiguous relationship? Kinda? If you like squint it can be interpreted as platonic

I LOVE HALSIN IM CRAWLING ON HANDS AND KNEES THROUGH THE DESERT IN SEARCH OF MY BEAR MAN

It was cold.

Very cold.

Night had fallen, shrouding the camp in darkness and you shivered in your bedroll, pulling your one thin blanket closer to your chest in a desperate attempt to garner warmth.

The small campfire next to your bedroll barely emitted any light, the small embers casting a faint orange glow on the nearby damp grass.

You had half a sleep deprived mind to just stick your hands into the dying flame and cuddle up to the warmth.

“Can’t sleep?” Came a low grumble from the cot next to yours.

Halsin turned on his side to face you, his gaze searching your eyes almost concernedly. Part of you wanted to ask him how he was able to sleep in this cold practically shirtless but you bit your tongue, hiding your words.

“…yes.” You said almost sheepishly, embarrassed to be caught despite doing no wrong. “Sorry to wake you Halsin.”

“You did not wake me.” He smiled gently, his grin so soft it melted your heart like butter.

“I was already awake and noticed your plight… is there anything I can do to help?” He offered and you felt yourself involuntarily smiling back, his kind demeanour infectious.

Your face turned pink at his offer, shaking your head softly in reply.

“No, it’s quite alright Halsin you do not need to do anything…”

“Nonsense, yes I don’t need to… but I want to.”

He sat up from his bedroll, even sitting he still towered over you, his head blocking out the soft glow of the moon in the sky as the embers of the fire turned the hues of his hazel eyes brown. Halsin stopped where he sat, looking at you in a silent ask of permission.

He patted the empty space next to him in his bedroll, a clear invitation for you to join him yet something made you hesitate. You’d done very little for Halsin as long as you’ve known him yet here he was giving everything for you and asking for nothing in return. He was kind, too kind, and a nagging voice in the back of your mind told you that you’d never done anything worth while enough to deserve the love and attention of the Archdruid.

Before you could spiral any further, Halsin’s sweet as honey gaze returned you to normality. His smile was gentle, his eyes crinkling, forming wrinkles and it soothed your worries, washing them away like an ocean, Halsin’s soft breathing the ebbing tides and the quiet crackle and pops from the dying fire the lapping waves.

as you scrambled to pull yourself together and climb into bed next to him, Halsin moved his arm to accommodate you before wrapping it around your waist, pulling you closer to his torso.

His chest was like a furnace and if you laid still enough you could feel his heart beating slowly almost in perfect synch with a crickets chirping in the woods surrounding camp.

Your face couldn’t help but heat up once fulling realizing the situation you were in, the tips of your ears turning pink.

A low rumble came from behind you, Halsin’s laugh soothing in your ear.

“You Look Like a radish.” He teased, pulling you impossibly closer till you were flush with his chest.

No words would come out from your open mouth when trying to respond, so instead you elected to look around the sound asleep camp, your eyelids finally starting to droop from fatigue.

“Never hesitate to ask me for anything.” He hummed quietly, his body spooning yours.

“I’d hang the moon for you if asked…”

Sorry it was so rushed at the end TT I just got done with a six hour musical pit practice and I wanted to post this so I rushed it </3

You n’ Halsin rn ^_^

[spinji]

I NEED TO YAP ABOUT THIS MOVIE MY GOD-

YOU'RE NEXT SPOILERS UNDER CUT

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaokayokay-

Can I just say I DO NOT recommend seeing this the same day as watching the new episode because I have had a DAY-

Unfortunately, the theater I went to didn't have the booklets or promotional cups but not a huge loss. It's the price I pay to have my boyfriend by my side; worth it. ♡

As with all my other MHA theater outings the screening was packed with delightful weirdos (dubbed, if you happen to care). One guy had an extensive set of custom MHA lego guys (very cool) and two very enthusiastic Toga cosplayers were so kind and kept me from feeling like a dork going out in public in a Deku wig. All the love to them, fr.

The movie itself though ohhhhh MY~

If I'm being honest this one didn't surpass World Heroes Mission or Heroes Rising for me, but also I don't know what you could do to beat out the movies that gave me such extreme brainrot it got me to be a part of this fandom in the first place. Personal rankings for the movies, best to "worst" is 3, 2, 4, 1.

Maybe it's because I had higher expectations instead of being given the best character in the franchise suddenly with no warning but I did still really REALLY love it. The highest point I can give it is easily the animation. Absolutely zero scenes in this movie feel like they fell to the standard of the anime. Everything was fluid and detailed and so fun to look at. And yes, of course it made every attack flashy as fuck. I was giddy every time Bakugou let out an explosion.

The premise did sound insane going in, and it is, but it's an anime side movie. Caring about the plot is a bonus, not a requirement. I guess my only real gripe is that it felt a little too fast? Very few scenes had time to breathe and unlike the other movies there wasn't really any slow establishing opening. If you come to MHA exclusively for the action, I think this one will be your new favorite.

Okay- I'm gonna just bullet point my highlights because I'm barely restrained enough to sit down and type.

First of all GIULIO!!!

Listen- I knew I would love this guy but oh my god babygirl~

He responds to literally everyone approaching him by pointing a gun at them. No comment this is just great

When Deku tells him to stop shooting at someone, he just pulls out a SECOND GUN and points it at him too

His motorcycle also has guns. Ngl I have expected his eye implant to also have a gun for a moment there.

He is SUCH an asshole to Deku in the first half and I love it. Their dialogue exchanges were so funny.

And in the second half he just,,,,cracks under the pressure so hard,, Man is having the WORST day of his life fr. It's really nice to know he and Anna are safe at UA rn. Poor things deserve it.

Anna and Giulio are really cute romantically, Giulio is definitely adult but he's going in the Deku harem anyway. You can't stop me, I am capable of worse.

Anna herself unfortunately doesn't get much time since she spends most of the movie mind controlled but she's harmlessly sweet and adorable. Anna they could never make me hate you.

I want to smear Dark Might across the side of a wall and given how much they overanimated his expressions, I believe this is the intended effect.

Am I the only one that hopes he sees the Mech Might livestream just to rub salt in the wound? Don't you dare let All Might's name fall from your mouth again, you bag of scum.

I really REALLY wanted Izuku to get pissed off and start naming off inconsistencies between how All Might and Dark Might look: "His eyes are SKY blue, not ocean blue, and while his broad features don't make it obvious, his chin was actually much slimmer, also you got the silver age colors wrong-!" alas... you know he was thinking it though-

Big tiddy mind control gf Deborah my beloved- she has pretty privileges for everything

Actually a lot of the lesser goons of the family were kind of dorky and odd. I loved the energy! Why was one of them literally a D&D nerd that put on a wizard robe OVER HIS SUIT. Most entertaining movie villian group for sure.

The personal dreams everyone had under the mind control? Kill me. Kill me right the fuck now!

Shoto literally just wants a happy childhood with his family??? Where Touya wants to play with him????? And Rei was still happy????? UUGAHWAAAAAAAA

Tenya and Tensei being heroes together STOP-

Shoji with the little girl he saaaaaaved,,,and he didn't have his face scars anymoooooore,,,

So glad they didn't show Ochako's because you know they would have just animated that what if pixel animation of her and Toga being childhood friends and I would have vomited in sorrow.

Absolutely infuriating they broke continuity to have Katsuki call Izuku "Deku" and not "De-Izuku". Never forget what they took from us.

"Beat it, cool side character!" is the best line in the movie. Katsuki does not forget what happened with Rody and he does NOT forgive.

Followed closely by "I'm falling down crotch-first!" And you wonder why I write the fics I do about you, Deku-

Deku being a legend as a jailbreaker hunter is so amazing?? Yes baby, they're so scared of you! You're doing amazing sweetie!

I might think of more but tldr: YOU'RE NEXT IS A REALLY FUN TIME AND YOU SHOULD WATCH IT!

[jasmines-library]

I just discovered your blog yesterday and I am INHALING your work! I love your writing, it feels like a movie being played in my head. Oh and the ANGST - JUST ajfhahaskh *Screaming in my pillow rn*.Would you be willing to write a second part of the self harm batfam x reader fic?

~ 🦑

Save Me When I Drown

I'm so glad you like my work hearing that means so much to me. as requested, here is a part 2; sorry it took me a billion years to get to it.

Part 1: Catch Me if I Fall

Warnings: Very nearly self harm, depressive thoughts, relapse. Please read with caution.

Word count: 1.3K

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

Things had been getting better. Slowly but surely they had. It was a slow process, that of course had not been easy. There were days where you felt like you could run a hundred miles, but there were also days where you couldn’t bring yourself to move. When the urge became too much. And although your brothers were there to help you… today was one of those days. 

The five of you were gathered around the table. Eating together at least once a week had become a tradition, and each of your brothers made a big effort to attend them, though it was rare to make it this far into the meal without being interrupted by Gotham’s infamous residents. And you were trying so hard to keep focused; to enjoy Alfred’s cooking as it melted on your tongue but you just couldn’t. And you hated yourself for it. 

You had to keep your eyes on your plate as you pushed your food aimlessly around the china. Your appetite had gone nearly as soon as you sat down, but you couldn’t look up because you knew as soon as you did you would feel guilty again. Dick sat across from you. A dark bruise had blossomed over his skin, turning it dark shades of maroon and indigo. He had a small laceration on his cheek below the bruise over his eye. It hadn’t needed stitches, but the sight still made you grimace. Beside him, Damian was also bloodied. They were all injured in some way. A stitch here, a sprain there. 

You should have been bothered by them. Injuries were a given in your line of work. But the thing that was tipping you over the edge was the fact that you were completely unscathed. There wasn’t a single hair on your head that was out of place. And it made your skin crawl. The five of them had run into a bit of a predicament with Bane; a particularly grisly fight that had ended with the majority of them spending a day or two on bedrest or in the infirmary. 

You should have been there. You should have been helping them but instead you were sitting in the safety of the manor, watching them on the monitors. Guilt washed over you like an ocean drowning you in your own thoughts. If only you had been quicker to direct them. If only you had pushed Bruce more to let you help out. Surely with an extra pair of hands the risk of injury would have been lowered. You would have had to ask Tim for the exact statistics, but you were sure enough that it would have made a difference. 

Bouncing your thigh leg up and down, you felt as though your skin was burning. Itching. As those thoughts weaselled their way back into your conscience. You picked at the skin around your thumb. Sometimes that helped the urge. But not this time. You had been too slow. Again. Everything was your fault and-

“Y/N?” It was Dick’s voice that broke you out of your trance. It was gentle and he reached out to place a hand on your restless leg under the table. He was ever the observer. The way he looked at you made you want to cry like a fragile child. Soft blue eyes downturned as he raised his eyebrow a fraction with the tilt of his head. “Are you alright?”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to tell him everything. But you kept it bottled up. You didn’t want them to pity you. Besides, you were getting better. That was what you had told yourself. That is what had been happening and it made you so frustrated that you were beginning to feel this way again. 

“Y/N?” Someone else called your name again with the same solemn tone when you refused to reply. You didn’t register who it was because your head was too foggy. Frankly, you didn’t care. You needed to leave.

“ ‘scuse me.” Scraping your chair against the floor, you abandoned your food and made a beeline for the exit. 

You think someone called after you, but you couldn’t focus on anything but the thumping of your heart as you hounded up the stairs and into your room. Shutting the door rather too harshly and locking it behind you, you sank to your knees. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks as your mask fell and you slumped against the ground. You felt so stupid. You were supposed to be getting better. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. You were supposed to be fine and you were supposed to be downstairs eating with the others. God, that made you feel even worse. You sank a little deeper into that ocean of thoughts. They had all made such an effort to be there and you had just fled like a child to their mother. 

Do it. Your mind was barking orders at you again. Old ones that you had fought so hard to forget.

Restlessly you pushed yourself up and made your way over to your closet. Shakily you dug through the draws until your fingers wrapped around the frayed leather. Silent, you turned it over in your palms. Your whole body seemed to tremble as you moved to perch on the edge of the bed. 

Someone was knocking on the door. You could hear them on the other side begging to be let in. begging for you to just answer them. 

You placed the blade against your skin and screwed your eyes up tight. The silver was cool against your skin. 

“Little Bat…please open the door.” Bruce had never sounded more vulnerable as he stood helplessly outside the door. You could almost picture his face: eyebrows downturned and eyes wide as he waited anxiously for you to either open the door or from Tim to return with the spare key to your room. Just in case. 

Trembling, your whole body was wracked by waves of tears each one gripped you tight and was accompanied by a thousand thoughts trying to burn away at the surface of your skin. Your eyes flickered to the knife. One swipe and it would all be gone. One swipe and you would get what you felt like you deserved. But then Bruce’s voice broke through the door. 

“I know you’re scared, Kiddo.”

Your head snapped toward the door. You paused with a shuddering breath.

“And that’s okay. That’s normal.” He continued. “I get scared too. We all do.”

At that moment you knew that your brothers were standing behind the door too, waiting with anxious anticipation that made their fingertips itch. You heard a shuffling, and then Jason’s voice came, muffled by the door. You weren’t entirely sure if he was planning to break it down or not, but his voice was calm. 

“Please open the door Little Wing…” Jason pleaded. “...We love you…and we’re scared.”

And you broke. The dagger clattered to the floor with another bout of tears and you unlocked the door. 

Bruce wrapped you up in his arms the second the door was wide enough to reveal you. He let out a heavy sigh of relief. 

“S-sorry…” You spluttered. “I’m sorry…”

“Shh.” He cupped the back of your head with his hand and you felt one of your brothers place a hand on your shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Little Wing. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“But I-”

“Shh.” Tim hushed. “It’s okay.”

“I thought I was getting better.” You sniffled.

Damian frowned. “You are. And we are so proud of how for you have come, sister. This is part of the process, Little Wing.”

“You’ve come so far, Kid.” Dick told you. “And we’re sorry that we didn’t notice how you were feeling until now. But it’s okay, because healing isn’t a linear process. And we’re going to be there with you every step of the way. Through the good and the bad just like we promised.”

You nodded. 

“This is just one of the bad days, Wing.” Tim hummed. “Things will get better, I promise.” 

“And we will love you the entire way.”

Taglist:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@xxrougefangxx

@mamapucket

@hearts4robs

[s-4pphics]

its christmas morning! (e.w)

omg y’all it’s fucking 4/20 aka my thanksgiving christmas and valentine’s day😳 

wanted to write for my fav pothead for my fav holiday :O ellie ripping bongs has been imprinted on my brain since that scene in the game yall know which one i’m talking about i don't even gotta say it🙄 i am very high rn so if there’s a typo or mistake no!! there’s!! not!! love y’all bye 

wc;cw: 2.7k, oc n ellie r both in college, WEED!!! WEED WEED WEED!!!, 21 savage :p catch it, sexual tension y’all know how i get down, descriptions of sex MDNIIII, dubcon(they’re very high), ellie’s so cute but also a lil mean, hair pulling ;D

“c’moooon dude, just one hit!” ellie said with a wide grin while softly nudging your shoulder with hers, her packed and filled miniature glass bong and lighter sitting on the coffee table in front of the two of you. 

ellie had sent you a text message after you got out of your last class saying it was her favorite fucking holiday so get ur ass over here! you knew she would hate it if you—her main smoking buddy—missed out on the new bud she got from someone on campus, so you packed an overnight bag with four of your own blunts that you rolled for her(you learned that tropical breeze was her favorite flavored wrap during one of your seshes!), and made your way over to her off-campus apartment complex. you knew there was no way you were going to be able to walk home tonight since you planned to get as fried as humanly possible. 

you’d arrived inside her building and scaled the stairs to the third floor before you banged on her door. fuck, you were winded! what’s up with the elevators not working—

a muffled what’s the password?! had come from the other side of the door as you gasped for air. 

“stop playing games, i’m tired!” 

you’d heard her laugh as the door swung open, revealing an already high, smiling ellie: you were immediately hit with the smell of the weed she’d apparently already smoked. she looked so cozy, her black hoodie and gray sweatpants littered her body, her hair in a loose ponytail. you looked down at her giant frog slippers before she broke the silence between you two. 

“it’s christmas morning! welcome to my trap house!” she’d excitedly squealed out, gesturing for you to come in. 

she guided you to her and her roommate’s living room couch as she lit one of the blunts you rolled (and then another one) for you both to share. you felt relaxed after smoking them down, but you told her you needed more, and she was more than willing to give you that. she’d ran to her bedroom and grabbed her trusted friend, as she called the smoking utensil. 

“i’ve never used one of those before.” 

“���are you fuckin’ serious?” ellie asked with wide, red tinted eyes. 

“um, yeah. why would i lie?” you asked blankly.

“that’s not what i meant, you smoke pretty often so i assumed. my bad.” she put her hands up in defense at your tone. 

“you don’t need to apologize,” you said before pausing to look at the bong. it was pretty: it was clear, but there were hints of blue further down the base. it reminds you of the ocean. you stared at it before breaking the silence. 

“what does it feel like?” 

“what? hitting it?” she asked as she nodded towards the bong on the table. 

you nodded at her, and she shrugged before sarcastically answering. 

“it feels like you're smoking,” she said with dramatic jazz hands. 

you pushed her as she laughed, “obviously, bitch! i mean when you're high. people always talk about it hitting way harder than any other pipe.” 

“because it does! you choke hard as fuck if the rip is big but it feels good afterwards. you smoke, you know what i’m talking about. it’s… the peak is just more… intense with bongs? i guess, i don’t know. i can only take like…three or four good hits, not gonna lie.”

you nodded as you listened to her rambles. ellie’s tolerance was definitely higher than yours, but you could hang—which was one of the main reasons she liked to smoke with you. you always felt nervous to hit from a bong because of all of your friends' horror stories. you heard so many variations of how hard they greened out the first couple of times they did it, and though you’d never admit it to anyone, their experiences freaked you out. you always smoked weed to relax and sleep, not see god. 

“…hm.” 

“what?” ellie smirked at you when she heard your acknowledgement. 

you were looking at the bong intensely as you imagined what your high would be like if you were to smoke out of one: you’d be so embarrassed if ellie was forced to talk you down from a bad trip because you didn’t know your limits. but the mention of its intensity intrigued you. how intense would it be? would you be able to move? think? 

“you wanna hit it and see what happens?” 

her quiet voice caught your attention. you looked to your right and… oh. she was really close to you. when did she get so close? 

“…yeah.” 

you were now sitting criss crossed on the couch as ellie faced you, packed, water-filled bong and lighter in hand. 

“hitting is pretty easy, but your throat burns like crazy. this is my smallest one, but… yeah, it might choke you.” 

“‘s fine.” 

she hummed in acknowledgment before she said, “i’ll go first just so you can see.” 

you nodded as you watched her put her lips at the opening of the tube. she lit her lighter and circled her flame around the bud-stocked bowl, igniting the flower as smoke slowly began to fill the base of the bong. 

when she was satisfied with the rip, she detached the bowl from the stem and sucked in the smoke, exhaling a large cloud away from your face. she cleared her throat as she passed it to you, “see? easy.” 

you took the bong and lighter from her hands and inspected it. you heard her snort from in front of you, meeting her eyes as you looked up. “it’s not gonna bite you, dude.” 

“i fucking know that,” you said with a soft glare, making her laugh harder. 

she reached over towards the coffee table and grabbed the small baggie of your rolled blunts. she took one out and grabbed another lighter out of her hoodie pocket, lighting the end and puffed on it to ignite the weed. she hadn’t noticed that you’d been watching her the whole time with an intense gaze. 

she finally looked up at you and nodded at your occupied hands. “you gonna hit it?” 

fuck. yeah, you were. you were. you nodded hard. she mumbled out a soft you don’t have to, but you shook your head at her, yes, you do! 

you brought the opening towards your lips and looked at her for approval, earning a small nod as she exhaled her own smoke and smiling, “carry on, young pupil.” 

you lightly kicked your knee against hers, earning a soft laugh. you took a deep breath before igniting the bowl and watched smoke fill the base. you weren’t sure how long you should wait before you took a rip, so you met her eyes again, awaiting instruction. 

“you don’t need to smoke all of that. ‘s a lot.” she advised, slurring slightly, smoke pooling out of her nose as she spoke. you didn’t listen, though. 

you removed the bowl as she did, and sucked in all of it. you breathed out and instantly started coughing up both of your lungs as she laughed, grabbing you a water from the table, opening it, and passing it to you. you dropped the lighter and exchanged the large pipe for the water in her hand. “fuckin’ idiot, i told you not to.” 

you choked harder as tears flooded your eyes, but even in your time of weakness, you flipped her off. she giggled before pretending to bite it off. 

as your coughing eased, you slowly sipped from your bottle and wiped the tears off your cheeks. “bro, what the fuck.” you said dryly, sipping more water. 

she laughed hard at you as she lit and ripped from the bong again. 

some time passed and you were starting to feel… something different as you came up. you knew you were going to peak soon, but the lift was coming in much harder. much faster. it was making you a bit antsy. 

ellie must’ve noticed your unfocused looks around her living room because she aligned her eyes with yours and whispered out a hey. 

“hi… i think i feel… feel it,” you whispered back, a slight shakiness to your voice. 

“okay. want me to turn some music on?” and you nodded before she could even finish her gentle proposal. you watched her every move as she got up and swiftly made her way over to the kitchen, turning on her speaker. “what you wanna listen to?” 

“g-glock in my lap.” 

“everywhere i’m strapped,” she said as she mimed jerking off with her tongue out. she's so gross… why was it getting you hot? 

she busted out laughing at her own joke before she played it, queueing her own list of songs before returning back to the couch to get in her previous position. 

“what’s your craziest weed story?” you asked the minute she sat down, cutting mumbling of the lyrics off. 

“craziest weed story?” she asked softly as she reignited her stubbed out blunt. 

“bong story. craziest bong story,” you corrected yourself slurrily. oh, this shit was hitting. 

she huffed out a laugh before talking. “…i don’t know if you wanna hear that right now.” 

“why? was it that bad?” 

“it was the exact opposite actually.” she corrected softly. had she leaned a bit closer to you? you couldn’t tell. 

“one of the best highs of my life, to be honest. wish i could go back to that day and just to feel it again.” 

“what happened?” 

she was silent for a moment, looking into your eyes with an intense gaze. 

“i… i met this girl on hinge— don’t fucking laugh!” she said as she smiled. 

it made you laugh harder. “i’m not—i’m not trying to, i promise!” 

she rolled her eyes as she continued. “anyway, we linked up after talking for a bit, and she told me she wanted to match. i drove hours to see her, she was so fuckin’ hot.” 

you hummed as she continued, giggles completely forgotten as your vision tunneled in on her. “so, we meet and we go up to her room. i think… her roommate had company over or something, it was really noisy when i walked in. anyway, we spark up, we’re smoking, and she’s just like hit my bong with me!, and i said sure.” 

you’d been watching her lips move the entire time she was talking. she’d been biting and licking them as she reminisced while hitting the blunt, and it was making your body hot. 

“she hit it first and passed it to me, and i’m like… what the fuck do i do with this contraption? like, you have to understand that it wasn’t a bong like mine. it was wide and long as fuck and the rips were huge. anyway, she showed me but… she was so close to me. like this.”

she leaned closer to you, your noses almost touching. your breathing picked up. “she was just talking me through the first hit, light this, pull that, y’know.” 

to be frank, you didn’t give a shit about this story at all, but you would listen to it over and over again if it meant she’d be this close to your face—

“and sex while high feels so fucking good—“

“huh?” 

“what?” 

“who had sex while high?” 

“… me‘n my hinge date.” 

she squinted her eyes at you before she grinned. “were you listening?” 

“yup.” 

“right.” she said as she cheesed. 

there was silence as you both looked at each other, but she inched a little closer to you and whispered. “wanna know a secret?” 

you nodded instantly. anything anything—

“she made me cum really hard after i hit her bong, like i went completely brain dead.” 

and you sucked in a sharp breath at her little secret before saying, “i’m sure…” 

“you’re sure?” 

“yeah.” 

she nodded at you, passing you the blunt she'd been nursing before she scooted back to reach for her bong and lighter off the table. she hit it again and you watched. you watched her so closely. 

“what’d she do?” you asked as you took a bold hit before stubbing it out on the ashtray on the table.

“who? m’date?” she asked as she blew another cloud away from you. 

you nodded much harder than you should’ve, but you were so curious. 

she smiled at you before elaborating, “so… i hit it, i’m choking hard as fuck, but she’s handing me water and rubbing my back and all of that shit.” 

“i finally calmed down, and we both laid down on her bed, we’re like… facing each other,” she explained, trying to demonstrate their movements through her occupied hands. 

remember when you said you didn’t give a shit about this story? you did. you really did. 

“she just starts… rubbing on my arm and stuff. like barely, but i feel it, and i start relaxing. like… it feels like i’m sinking into her bed. she starts telling me how cute i am and whatever and then… she just kisses me. it’s real cute at first,” she said with a gentle grin. 

“but she… she grabs my hips and pulls me closer… i can’t even remember what happened but i end up on my back and she’s eating me out and fingering me,” she’d been looking off into the distance throughout the whole story, but reconnects her eyes with yours, and they slowly drift down to your lips and you want to kiss her so fucking bad—

“when i came, i kinda just… blacked out, i felt like my brain was gonna come out my ears…like, in a puddle or somethin’ crazy,” she had the audacity to giggle at her statement. she didn’t even care about how wet her story just made you, how rude! 

“…but yeah,” she mumbled and nodded, suddenly averting her gaze from your mouth. she leaned towards the bong in her hand, lighting and ripping from it again.

instead of politely blowing the smoke away from your face like she’d been doing, she held eye contact and blew the cloud towards you, and you breathed it in like you wished to breathe her in. she reached to the side to place the pipe and lighter back on her table and looked down at your twitching hands before she asked, “you okay?” 

you nodded slowly and dazed, slowly blinking at her, and she smirked as she leaned closer to you again. this was the closest she’s been to your face, and all you could do was study her. memorize every detail on her face. she's so, so pretty. 

“ellie.” 

“yeah?” she breathed out and you barely heard it. 

“kiss me.” you replied just as quietly. 

she licked her lips again as she looked down at yours. you were nearly panting like a dog and you could tell she was getting off to your desperation by the smirk on her face. 

you leaned closer to her in attempts to close the distance, but ellie moved away before you could. 

so you tried again. 

and she moved away again. and then she leaned back onto her propped elbows, one of her knees bent up. 

“c’mere.” 

you moved before you could think, shifting onto your wobbly knees to crawl on top of her, your hands on either side of her head as she straightened her legs out so you could straddle her waist.

you felt her warm hands grab your hips to squeeze them. you placed your weight on both your elbows and leaned down so you could finally kiss her. you want a kiss! you want a kiss now! 

your head was yanked back before you could connect your lips to hers, and you let out a shocked, wet gasp as you grinded down on her impulsively. you want more more more—

she snorted at your reaction before bringing her mouth up to your ear to whisper, “i want another hit.” 

her hand loosened in your hair as you watched her laugh at you with her head thrown back, a shocked expression on your face. no way she just played you like that!

“fuck you,” you said with an embarrassed pout as you sat up and moved off her lap, sitting the farthest away from her as you could. 

“i know you want to, hand me that lighter,” she said, nodding her head towards the table while giggling. 

you grabbed and threw it at her chest, making her laugh louder. 

hahaaaa i gotchu yall thought they were gonna fuck? SIKE but omg yall make sure to get high byeee

[rafesgoldrings]

missing you and trophy wife reader sm rn give us some crumbles 🤭

Hi bby, i’ve missed you sm (and it’s like every time I start missing trophy wife reader, someone sends a request for it😭) there is a scene in this where Rafe preforms a sexual activity on reader while she’s sleeping but he has prior consent to do so, please either skip this scene or do not read this if that makes you uncomfortable! The scene will be in bold

Rafe decides that since it’s finally Summer and the both of you have been working so hard at the company, it’s time for a vacation. He gets everything in order, makes sure things will still function normally when you’re both gone for a month, tells his guy that’s out in charge when he’s absent to call if nothing happens, and then takes you shopping. While you’re picking out new clothes and bikinis in one store, he’s at another picking out some new lingerie and toys for you. His wardrobe was fine, there was no need to get anything new that would just fill up more space, but you always insisted you didn’t have enough clothes and practically dragged him shopping. He wasn’t complaining when he walked out with about 6 bags of new things to use on you, the two of you met up again and you gave him a look.

The kind of look that screams ‘you’re up to no good but i’m not saying anything’, but the two of you finished up your shopping and went home to begin packing. He took you to your vacation home in the Bahamas, settled right on the beach with a gorgeous view. The sounds of the ocean being heard from every location in the house mixed with the salty air and gentle breeze setting the vibe perfectly. You’d unpacked everything and went to get some groceries to hold you over for the next few days until you went and got the rest of what you’d need, it was fairly late by then so you decided to watch a movie. You rested your head in his lap and fell asleep halfway through like always. Of course a sex scene has to play, it’s not even good. Mediocre at best Rafe thinks, but the combo of the sounds from the screen and the feeling of your head moving against his cock every so often has him rock hard.

**He knows you won’t mind if he uses your mouth, you’ve told him before how hot you’d find it to wake up with his cock inside you. He tries to ignore the throbbing he feels, but it gets to be too much and so turns the tv off before he carefully pulls his cock from his sweatpants and begins stroking it. He moves your head just a smidge so that he can part your lips and slide his cock inside, letting out a small groan at the feeling. You let out a small moan and Rafe’s eyes widen thinking you’re awake, he lets out a sigh of relief when your eyes remain closed and you make no indication of being awake. He starts to softly fuck your face, one tangled in your hair as the other goes to pull your tits from the soft cotton tank top you had on. The sight of your nipples hardening and goosebumps covering your body brings him to his orgasm, shooting his load down your throat. This wakes you up and causes you to panic at first, not quite knowing what was going on. “You’re okay baby, just couldn’t wait. Needed this pretty fucking mouth on my cock” Rafe assures you, smiling when you relax and look up at him with tired eyes. You swallow it all and his cock pulls out of your mouth with a ‘pop’.**

You sit up and pull your top off completely before pulling off your panties. He grips your hips and helps pull you into his lap, you reach between your bodies and guide the tip of his cock to your dripping slit and slowly push it inside. He keeps pushing until he bottoms out, staying still to let you adjust first before roughly thrusting up into you. You bounce your hips trying to match his pace, but you’re still too tired so he uses his hands to bounce you up and down. His lips attach to your tits that are bouncing around in his face with each rough thrust he gives you, he marks them and licks at them savoring the way your soft skin feels against his tongue.

You reach down to begin rubbing your clit, the feeling in your stomach growing more and more intense. Rafe knows you’re close, can see it on your face and can feel it with the way your pussy squeezes him so tight. Sucking him in and matching the same greediness you held in terms of his cock. He suddenly flips you so that you’re now on your back, pushing your legs to your chest and pounding into you so hard that you know you’ll wake up sore. You lean your head up and capture his lips in a rough kiss, teeth clashing and tongues twisting together as you moan into each others mouths. Your head falls back into the couch cushion, his lips moving to kiss your throat and neck, as your orgasm washes over you. Eyes screwed shut, small whimpers and pants slipping through your lips, Rafe’s name filling the room as you cry out. He feels you squirting around him, clenching so fucking tight and pulls away from your neck to watch your tight, wet hole stretch around him, and that sends him over the edge. His head falls back into the crook of your neck, the soft skin muffling his loud grunts and groans as he fills you up. It’s pornographic, the way you both look and the sounds currently filling the room, and Rafe has never been so happy for the cameras that record it all.

You both lie there, skin sticky with sweat and arousal, out of breath and tired, just enjoying the way you feel like this. You feel him go soft and pull out of you which causes you to let out a whine from the loss of fullness, he chuckles and watches his seed leak out of you. “Tsk tsk princess, can’t let this go to waste can we? Let me just…” he trails off, taking two of his fingers and stuffing the cum back into you before pulling your panties back on. You moan at the feeling, squirming and clenching your thighs together while he just laughs at you.

“Let’s go to bed baby, bet you’re real tired after that yeah?” you nod, letting out a small yawn which causes him to do the same. He scoops you into his arms and you bury your face into his neck. You hear the door open and Rafe take a few steps before you’re placed in the soft and cool comfort of the king sized bed. ‘Thank god for cooling bedsheets and comforters’ you think to yourself, the sweltering heat outside was almost unbearable when the wind wasn’t blowing and you weren’t in the water or in front of a fan. Rafe slides in the bed next to you, placing a kiss to the top of your head before turning the lights off.

“Goodnight baby, sleep well. I love you” but you were already out, he quietly chuckles to himself and pulls out his phone to lower the brightness. But curiosity gets the best of him…so he opens the security camera app, goes to the recently recorded videos, and saves the one of him fucking you senseless to him phone. He’d have to watch that one later when your needy pussy wasn’t there for him to bury his cock inside when he needed it.

[inmyheaddd]

beach bliss - grayson hawthorne x reader

thankyou so much for the requests! i have a longer fic of dad grayson in the works a/n: pls i need a baby and a grayson hawthorne rn 😭wc: 650 masterlist

it was a perfect sunny saturday, the kind of day that begged for an adventure. grayson suggested, “how about a trip to the beach today?” the past few days he’s been caught up with work, and he knew how much his daughter loved the water. she was like him in some ways with that.

you packed a bag with all the essentials—sunscreen, towels, snacks, and freya’s favorite bucket and spade. soon enough, you were all in the car, heading towards the coast.

as you arrived at the beach, the salty sea breeze greeted you, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore filled the air. freya could barely contain her excitement, running ahead and then back to you, her little feet leaving tiny footprints in the sand.

“let’s build a sandcastle!” freya called out to her dad, holding up her bucket.

“absolutely,” grayson replied, crouching down beside her. “we’ll make the biggest, best sandcastle ever.”

you set up a cozy spot with a blanket and umbrella, soaking in the sun, watching as grayson and freya dug into the sand with never ending smiles and laughter. grayson already had a sun-kissed flush appearing on his face, he looked perfect. freya decorated the castle with seashells she found along the shore and drew 3 little stick people. “mommy, daddy, and fifi,” she labeled them, using her nickname that only you and grayson called her.

“mommy, look! it’s our castle!” freya exclaimed, waving to you.

“it’s wonderful, sweetie,” you said as you approached it, then sitting beside grayson. “you both did an amazing job.”

grayson looked at you with a loving smile. “our little architect here is a natural,” he said, ruffling freya’s hair gently.

“she takes after her dad with that, huh?” you fell in love with grayson’s eyes even more in this light. you wondered why he didn’t go to the beach more often; it suited him. same colour palette and all

after playing around, burying eachother in the sand, and having some refreshers, you decided to take a dip in the ocean. freya held both your hands as you waded into the cool, refreshing water. she squealed with delight every time a gentle wave splashed against her legs.

“daddy, look! i’m swimming!” she giggled, kicking her feet.

“you’re doing great, fifi!” grayson said, lifting her up and spinning her around, her laughter mixing with the sound of the waves. you couldn’t help but laugh along with them, the joy of the moment filling your heart. their laugh was practically identical, it made your heart swell too.

when it was time for a break, you all sat on the blanket, enjoying the snacks you packed. freya munched on apple slices and pointed out seagulls flying overhead. grayson wrapped his arm around you, and you leaned into him, savoring the peaceful moment.

freya, her eyes wide with wonder, asked, “can we come back every day?”

grayson chuckled. “maybe not every day, my love, but we’ll definitely come back often. we’ll make this our special family spot.”

as the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the beach, freya snuggled up in your lap, sleepy but content. after a short but sweet kiss with grayson, and a few minutes of talking about everything under the sun (no pun intended) he gathered your things, and you all took a slow walk back to the car, freya’s hand in yours.

“that was the best beach day ever,” freya murmured, her eyes drooping as you put her in the backseat, clicking her seatbelt on.

“it really was,” you agreed, kissing her forehead. “i’m so glad we came.”

grayson smiled at you both, his heart full. “we’ll have to do it again soon.”

as grayson drove home, freya fell asleep in the back seat, her tiny hand still clutching her favorite seashell. grayson reached over and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“i love you,” he said softly, his eyes reflecting the warmth of the day.

“i love you too,” you replied, and as you looked out the window, and the sleeping figure behind you, you felt a deep sense of gratitude for the simple, precious moments spent with the two lights of your life.

[quimichi]

-╰──╮FREMINET BF HEADCANONS ╭──╯-

Freminet x GN!Reader

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ when he first met you he wasn't expecting that you both would end up being in more contact

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ yk, since people usually ask him for favors or about his siblings. But you actually asked him what the feeling of diving in the depths of Fontaine feels like.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ I mean yes he was hella surprised that you have an actual genuine interest in this. It was much easier to keep up the conversation with you, it felt so light and easy. Time flew by so fast that Pers had to remind him that he needs to get home

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ oh and you obviously also asked him about Pers and all the other fascinating machines he build

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ Freminet usually doesn't needs to be seen by others. Hes perfectly fine with being alone, most of the time. He has the ocean, his siblings and Pers and thats all he'll ever need. That's what he thought at least

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ telling you goodbye felt strange, he didn't wanted to actually go although he knew he had to. You told him you'll meet again soon you promised yourself this

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ at home he felt guilty, all he did was talk about him and not about you. He felt awfully unpolite. But it felt good having someone actually listen to you, someone who actually hears him

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ so yeah, this is how you guys met, and when we skip over the awkward parts where both of you got closer, into a friendship and finally to the day where he confesses his feelings it was around 4 months

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ his confession you ask? Well easy, you both discovered this new but small underwater cave, you could actually breath in this one just fine and it had all those beautiful shell's plastered over the walls. Both of you were so drawn to these shells you spend quite some time in there just looking at and collecting them

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ and that was when he realized how great it is to have you around. Without you he would just be happy he discovered something new, take one or two shells, spend some time in there and then go back up. But with you, he actually has someone to talk to and discover new things together, not only discover the ocean but also discover friendship or in this case also, love.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ and his first one too omg

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ he was so confused when he first got his heart rate up trough the roof when you held his hand in a water turbulence. When he got home that day he asked Lynette about it, cause asking lyney would end in a disaster.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ "Simply put, you fell in love" she said while taking a sip out of her cup. "Oh", what a boring reaction coming form the guy who sits there wide eyed with red dusted cheeks

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ felt pretty dumb ngl, like he reads all those fairytale books and in every single one is romance. And yes he did squeal once or twice whole reading. And since he only knows this type of love, the hopless forever together one, he takes reference from these books

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ he did practice and all but putting it into action is....complicated. those new emotions are kinda in his way and he got no idea how to handle them well

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ Lynette obviously did had pity with him and helped him around. She at least made him understand his feelings and for once he talked about those new found emotions openly.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ you really make a change on this shy guy, good job. Now you just need to accept his confession and you're done!

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ so here he is, fumbling with his fingers while trying to not stumble out his favorite lines of the princes he read about. The mix was definitely, interesting? Some words you knew some words you didn't but you got the idea behind it

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ all you could do was also awkwardly stand around looking at him with both excitement and pure nervousness. Awwww look at two socially awkward beans being in love

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ Lyney would definitely take a picture if he was there rn for the family album just to tell you guys in a few years when you're still together that "he was definitely right and he told you guys so"

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ good thing Freminet actually didn't tell him anything cause that chaos would be something for sure

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ at the end of the confession he gave you a romaritime flower. Yes, in Fontaine rainbow roses mean love, but this is Freminet, Romaritime flowers are his sign of love and appreciation

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ you accepted both the flower and his confession by telling him you feel the same and yeah...awkward again like wtf do people do after a confession??? He didn't know, you didn't know, you both just got back up and you hugged him (he was the more awkward one ngl) and asked if a 'date' tomorrow would be ok. Ya'll just meet at your house and get to a Cafe like basic shit yk

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ AND NOW FINALLY THE BF HDCS

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ in the beginning both of you were shy and awkward, he more than you ngl

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ ok so, doesn’t matter where you go, Pers is always with you guys and how can you complain hes the absolute cutest. You'll always hold him and even talk to him and he makes cute noises back at you. This all just warms freminets heart seeing you both get along so well

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ dates are mostly spend in the ocean, but not always underwater sometimes you both just swim and have fun. Like playing with the otters or relaxing.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ and now he also finally told Lyney about it to and he was devastated. "How could you not tell your dear big brother about all of this?! You broke my heart, why would you do this" hes literally clutching his chest dramatically. "This is exactly the reason" - Lynette

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ but I don't wanna portrait Lyney as absolutely obnoxious. Hes is obviously happy for his brother and very proud he stepped out of his comfort zone to discover new things and emotions and he's so glad you have the patience for all of this. He was nervous and worried at first but he trusts you like no one else and will help if you ever need it. So will Lynette

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ Freminet just looks at you apologetic, boy cringes when Lyney is acting wild-

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ Hes also now working on a little project for you. Wanting to build you your own little Pers. Obviously inspired by your favorite animal may it be a horse, elephant or rat. He doesn't cares he will take his time to build you something you will hopefully adore just as much he adores Pers

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ whenever 'father' makes him cry, or any other situation, the first he does is look for you before he lets all those tears fall. Ans those tears are not only because of the current problem, also because of his fear of your rejection when you find out what secret he hides

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ he wishes to tell you, but he can't, yet. It's so complicated and hard coming up with the right words that may change everything entirely or not

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ ok--away from all the sad stuff for now. Let's talk about PDA. Holding hands, ok. Linking arms, ok. A kiss on the cheek, hmmmm yeah ok-. More than this? No---

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ he's already nervous in private imagine what happens in public? You just got together you don't need to rush yet :)

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🤍 ꒱ you got plenty of time ♡

A/n: when I tell you this turned out horrible haha-