#i would be fine splitting the difference though

[mlmxreader]

Sweet On You | Arthur Morgan x m!reader

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↳ ❝ "Maybe I'm just an idiot and thought you cared'' with Arthur Morgan please? ( good ending if possible) ❞

: ̗̀➛ You and Arthur have to spend a lot of time together, but he isn't sure how you feel about it.

: ̗̀➛ swearing, smoking, guns

↳ if you can, please consider giving to Fadi's family; they're currently in Gaza, and need to raise funds in order to escape the genocide. So far, they've raised $39,380 of their $62,500 goal!

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Arthur sat by the campfire, twiddling his thumbs as he looked around nervously; it wasn't like he was jumpy on hunting trips, but when he was near you it was a different story. You made his heart pound and his hands go all sweaty and sticky, his throat would get dry and he would struggle to speak a single word, let alone a whole sentence.

Yet he loved being near you; hearing you speak about all the different animals and plants and what they did in the world. Listening to you hum softly as you brushed your horse; that animal didn't like Arthur a single bit.

A loyal and faithful companion, it seemed strong enough to carry at least thirty men without breaking a single sweat; it looked dignified and noble, but was certainly also a strong and powerful animal.

Whether it was cougars, wolves or bears, the horse did not ever shy away or spook when it came to battle.

In the right lighting, the horse looked red in colour, with a dark, almost black, mane and tail; its dark eyes were keen and focused. With its bright green and white saddle, it looked every bit the noble steed it truly was.

"Manawydan," the horse's name was. Arthur liked to draw him, though; he had an almost medieval artistry about him when he grazed and he interacted with Arthur's horse - like he belonged in some mythic tale about kings and wizards, not in the outskirts of Lemoyne hunting cougar and boar.

Slowly, Arthur looked up from the campfire when you moved, curiosity etched into his features as the dull light flickered in his eyes; he looked away the second you turned slightly towards him, awkwardly returning back to the orange and yellow before him and the soft warmth.

He swallowed thickly.

"Y'know," you started, "wouldn't kill you to look at me."

Arthur spared you an all too quick glance. "Hmm?"

"Said," you pulled your rifle from Manawydan's saddle, and sat opposite Arthur. "It wouldn't kill you to look at me. You do this every time we go out together - do you hate me that much? I'm not worse than Micah, am I?"

He smiled for a split second as he shook his head. "Nah, nah, you're much better than him."

You shrugged, examining your rifle; the way that you yielded it and how you always used it for everything and anything, it was akin to how knights used to wield swords in the stories that Arthur had heard and read growing up.

A fantastical weapon used loyally; the wood finish was a beautiful dull red and dark brown colour, and looked like it was wrapped leather thanks to the brilliant craftsmanship. The metal was a fine, almost sparkling, silver colour, with a distinct rune on either side of the barrel in black.

"Gorau tarian, cyfiawnder" on one side, and "Golud gwlad rhyddid" on the other - at least, that was what you had told Arthur they had meant.

Yet your skilled hands worked the metal and the wood so acutely and carefully that it wasn't difficult for him to see that you had skill; you were precise and methodical, getting rid of every scrap of dirt and every bite of dust.

Arthur could only watch, his head tilted slightly to the side as he focused as best as he could. But then he heard you hum, and he perked up slightly.

He knew that song.

You sang it a lot when you were fishing, and whistled it even moreso when you were meandering through towns with him; he knew that it meant you were in a good mood. Hopeful, Arthur cleared his throat, and slowly removed his hat so he could place it on his knee.

"It ain't you," he started quietly, "it really ain't you... I just... I feel things when I'm around you, and it ain't like I deserve you..."

You stopped, quirking a brow as you looked over at him through the fire. You shook your head. "Arthur. C'mon. When you met me, I was a fuckin' assistant to Trelawny - it ain't like I've been holed up in a fuckin' mansion, eating fucking geese and shit all my life."

"I know, I just..." he shrugged, struggling to talk so much and struggling to find the right words even more. He sucked in a harsh breath. "I ain't a good man. And you deserve a good man, to get outta this life and-"

"Fuck's sake, Morgan," you growled, shaking your head. "I'm not being funny here, but you need to quit that shit. You are a good man, you've just done shitty things - I ain't getting out of this life any time soon, so it's entirely down to you - I mean, shit, I used to think that maybe I'm just an idiot and thought you cared... and now you're saying you do, but you're shitting all over it. I wanna love you, Arthur, I do. I enjoy being around you."

He frowned, clearing his throat awkwardly. "You do?"

"Of course I do, you silly bugger!" You all but howled, a whisper of jovial playfulness to your voice. "I like being near you, and spending time with you... my horse might not, but I do."

He laughed softly at that, moving a little closer so he could sit next to you. "You sure you wanna do this?"

You sighed heavily, putting your hand on his knee. "Yes. I very much fucking am... now, let me finish polishing me rifle, and afterwards, I'm gonna get you to lie down, and I'm gonna cuddle into you to see if you're as warm as you seem. Alright?"

Arthur nodded. "Alright... that, erm, that does sound good."

"Light up a cigarette a second," you hummed, fumbling in your pockets and tossing him the packet. "Help yourself if you want one."

He didn't hesitate, lighting two of them and gently passing one over. "Thanks."

"Hey," you whistled softly to grab his attention. "I'm sweet on you, Arthur. You remember that, yeah?"

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

Still blows my mind the disparity between the Eng and the JP localization of Sonic Frontiers

So in the og English Tails expresses that he needs to part ways from Sonic so he can grow into a hero on his own, right? That he can't grow by being with him?

But like. The director of the game, who worked with Ian Flynn, worked on the JP localization and it's like. You're telling me that when they localized that scene for the Japanese audience

That it was about Tails learning that there are things only he can do? That instead of concluding that he needs to part ways from Sonic and become a hero, he just comes to realizes the ways in which he and Sonic fill each other's gaps? He learns that he already is on equal footing with Sonic. The two of them are just heroes who save people in different ways?

[would-you-punt-them]

I just want to tell you this:

Thank You So, SO Much for informing people about the horrid Mr. Beast situation occurring within his Squid Game Beast Games.

I don’t think would’ve known about this awful and disgusting event occurring as much as I do now if you didn’t post about it on this blog.

Thank you.

I do think it isn't something that should be brushed under the rug, and I also feel that the more people know about it, the worse it becomes for Jimmy when the Beast Games show actually comes out.

One thing I forgot to include in the post is that the Las Vegas shoot is going to be uploaded on YouTube as an extended qualifier to the actual show on Amazon Prime.

It's worth noting that the contestants didn't know that until they arrived at the stadium. They'd been told that the Las Vegas shoot was the Amazon show, and there would only be 1,000 competitors (which is how it is marketed by Amazon). They only learned that the player-count had doubled and this wasn't going to be on Prime once they were on set, and were shown a video message from Jimmy saying he forgot to mention that actually there were 2,000 people and this wasn't the Amazon show (though MrBeast later claimed that this was always the intent).

I don't know when the video(s) will be uploaded, but I honestly can't wait because I'm dying to know how they're planning on editing the footage to cut out the horrors that took place during the challenges.

Like, how are they going to show the Red team losing the first challenge with the rope and pulley? On the one hand, surely they've got to show the 400 people who were eliminated in that challenge. But on the other hand... what exactly do they have to work with?

The production team refused the Red team's pleas to stop the challenge and demanded they keep going to the end, presumably because they needed them to do it for the sake of the video. Instead, anti-capitalist icons that they are, the entire team abandoned the challenge mid-way anyway so they could go help their teammates who were literally being strangled, throwing the game. And once they'd abandoned the rope, they never picked it up again.

Obviously, the producers can't show competitors being throttled. But that means that they also can't explain why the Reds lost the challenge. If the throttling happened toward the end, maybe they'll be fine, but if it happened closer to the middle, there's no way for them to explain why those 400 people just gave up so early.

It also presumably means any overhead shots of all the teams are ruined, because that would require them to explain why the Reds just aren't participating.

Maybe they could show the Reds giving up, but give a different reason. But no reason I can think of works. If they say they "tried their best but knew they couldn't win", they would then also have to answer the question of why the challenge was impossible for them - the reason being that their team of 400 consisted of about 380 women, while their opposing teams consisted almost entirely of the youngest and strongest male competitors.

And I'm not sure how they're going to explain that, because if they show the challenge of everyone going for coloured jerseys, they can't reveal why the teams ended up so unbalanced, as the actual reason is that the male contestants were hoarding jerseys and were physically violent against the female and elderly contestants, and organised themselves to guarantee they were all on the same team, resulting in a gender split.

I'm also not sure how they plan to edit around challenges like the briefcase game, where in the middle of the cramped field the male contestants were attacking and trampling the women. It's going to take a lot of editing to cut around that. And while they can edit out the injuries occurring they can't edit out the fact that by the end of the challenge there are suspiciously fewer female contestants remaining than there were to begin with.

Additionally, they're going to have to justify why the contestants started off so diverse in gender and age, only for the 1,000 who made it to the actual Amazon show predominantly being young and male, without it becoming clear that no one else had any chance. They can't introduce new contestants to re-diversify the cast, because 1,000 were promised by Amazon, 1,000 qualified, and people will complain if they try to fudge the numbers or cheat by introducing last-minute entries, which is especially bad now that he's currently under fire for allegedly faking and rigging competitions.

Jimmy also can't just not upload it at all, because then he'd have to explain that as well, and this is such a massive event people, both fans and detractors, are going to notice.

The more people know about it, the worse his situation becomes, because there's just no way out of it without inviting questions he doesn't want people to know the answers to.

While this is obviously too much to hope for in this timeline, in an ideal world enough people start talking about this that Amazon cancels his show due to the controversy - Jimmy has said Beast Games is intended to be his break into more traditional media, and I think it would be nice to shut that down.

[iluvloganhowlett]

Omg hiii, I just saw your “dating Hugh” hcs and I absolutely loved them... So could you pls write something where paparazzi are just bombarding him with questions about his relationship with the reader since there have been a lot of rumors about them breaking up but him still visiting the reader??? I would just love to see that respectful man handle all the nasty and out of pocket questions paparazzi go for

I LOVE HER ༉‧₊˚.

in which hugh humbles the internet by addressing false rumors

warnings: none, just fluff!

so my dumbass has no self control and i did unfortunately change the plot a little BUT i am planning to write a 2nd imagine on this same plot but differently! hope yall still like it

since working on the x-men movies with hugh, you two have been together ever since. happily, that is.

however somehow, from somewhere, rumors began to circulate that the two of you had broken up after your 23 years together.

and of course, you and hugh took these rumors to the press.

“so we’re aware that the two of you have worked together since the first x-men movie,” the host asks, earning a collection of nods from the two of you. “would you want to go into detail about how you guys began to date and just what the story was behind that?”

“yeah of course,” you began, hugh cutting you off.

he looked directly at the camera now rather than the host, pointing his finger at it in a silly manner, “and as far as i know, we are still together.”

the room erupts into laughter, most of it coming from you as you grab hugh’s other hand, intertwining your fingers in your lap. “yeah, oh my god i don’t know where it came from but for some reason all of twitter and tiktok and whatever else there is thinks we’ve broken up!”

the host smiles, “i saw that, in fact that was actually my next question on my list.”

“so you chose to ask the allegedly broken up couple about how they met and began dating before you ask them if they’re still together?” you joke, causing everyone to laugh once more.

though everyone was focused on your joke, the only thing you could focus on was hugh’s thumb rubbing up and down the back of your hand subconsciously. it was sweet, almost as if he did it without realizing.

“yeah.. yeah i love her so.. we’re not splitting until one of us dies.”

“hugh!” you smack his leg, brows furrowed close to your eyes in a warning manner.

he cocks his head as his eyes go wide, smiling brightly at your concern, “what?!”

“don’t talk about either of us dying, i don’t like that!”

his smile only grows as he chuckles at your rather unreasonable behavior, “alright i’m sorry.”

the host makes eye contact with the camera just as hugh had, “yeah i don’t think they’re breaking up anytime soon, look at them!”

the camera pans to zoom in on you and hugh; you’re still scolding him about how you don’t need to worry about splitting up when you’re perfectly fine while he’s trying to defend himself but is laughing too hard.

“i said im sorry!” he managed to get out, going weak as he brought his head down to your lap, trying to contain his laughter.

you smack the backside of his head gently, leaning to rest on the armrest of your chair as you roll your eyes, “and you’re not even taking me seriously, baby.”

“and they’re still holding hands,” the camera man points out from behind the scenes.

i guess it’s safe to say those rumors shut down, fast.

I HATE THIS WTF i’m sorry the end is so bad

taglist!!

@velvrei @spazwayy @oatmilkriver @sseleniaa @mei-simp @wittyjasontodd @wolverinesangel @realsimpbitchshit @pickuptruck01 @keigohawks @thereallchristine @zeeader @pink-jello-fish @twinky-wink @malfoys-demigod @seamlessepiphany @withafoll @lulawantmula

[bluebeary-jay]

If I could hold you for a minute

Javier Peña x f!Reader

Summary: Javier wants nothing more than to go home to you. And thanks to his partner's generosity, he gets to.

Tags: just pure FLUFF, mayyybe a sprinkle of suggestive humor, established relationship, Steve teases Javi a bunch, Javier is a BIG SIMP (i'm serious)

Warnings: none ♡

Word count: 3.3K

A/N: something different for you guys 🙈 i'm sadly still on semi-hiatus because of my finals, but I managed to finish this little fic as a break from my angsty Joel pieces. i reaaaally hope you all will like it 😌💕 also, it's dedicated to my dumbass in crime @lily-inbloom 🫡😘 luv you babes

This was one of the worst days agent Peña had in a long time, and he wanted nothing more than to go home.

First, two people from Escobar’s inner circle managed to escape the raid on the laboratory in which he and Murphy participated, leaving both of them exhausted and frustrated. Then Melissa gave Javier a bunch of shit because of some documents, and on the way to his desk some asshole bumped into him, making him drop and break his phone. And now they had to stay after hours to wait for Carrillo.

“It’s for you, Peña.”

So yeah. His day was shit so far.

His pity party was cut short when Steve sitting across from him hissed his name again. Javier shot him an irritated look and flipped him off, not in the mood to talk to any informants or their superiors.

“Not now, Murphy,” he grumbled, but his partner still handed him the stationary telephone from their desk, ignoring the hostility radiating from the man.

“Just take it, asshole. She’s worried you’re not answering her calls.”

At that, Javi sat up straight and in a split second took the handset from Steve, pressing it to his ear.

“¿Querida?” he asked quietly, paying no attention to Murphy rolling his eyes and chuckling to himself. There was a sigh of relief on the other end of the line and he furrowed his eyebrows in concern. “Is everything alright?”

“Hi, Javi,” your voice came through the receiver. “You weren’t picking up.”

Almost instantly the tension was lifted from Javier’s shoulders and he exhaled deeply. You had a talent of putting him at ease, even when you weren’t by his side.

“Lo siento, cariño. Some idiot broke my… you know what, it doesn’t matter. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just wanted to ask when you finish work? I can swing by and we can go grab some food on the way home.”

He sighed tiredly, rubbing his brows. He hated saying no to you and if he could, Javi would give you the world on a silver platter – but some things, he didn’t have any control over.

“No sé, cariño. We have a shitton of papers to read with Steve, and we’re waiting for Carrillo to fill us in on the latest action. I’ve got no idea how long it’s gonna take, sweetheart.”

Steve lifted his head and shot Javier a teasing look, but Peña ignored him, turning his chair to the side.

“Alright, so what do you say I’ll bring you some takeout? You can also ask Steve what he’d want, I’ll be at this place we went to a week ago–”

“No, querida, no,” he sighed, this time with affection. Your voice was a temptation enough to throw everything to hell and run home to you, but to hear the kindness and love in your words, without even seeing your expression… It was heart-clenching. “We don’t need anything, you just go back home safely. I’ll try to get away from here as soon as I can.”

You didn’t answer at first, but then hummed half-heartedly.

“If you say so. But please, eat something.”

Javi smiled absentmindedly, covering his eyes with his fingers. He imagined your concerned expression, the receiver nestled next to your ear, near the spot he so liked to nuzzle with his nose. “How do you know I haven’t already?”

He could hear a trace of a smirk in your voice.

“I know you, Peña.”

“Too well, I think.”

“You love it, though.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, maybe.” He heard you yawn and the smile disappeared from his face. “You’re tired.”

“No, I’m not. I’ll get to bed when you’re back.”

“I won’t be home for at least a couple more hours, sweetheart,” Javi told you softly. “You can go to sleep.”

“I’ll wait for you,” you repeated stubbornly.

“You don’t have to.”

“I know, cariño.” There was that sweet, teasing note in your tone, and a grin spread across Javier’s face again. “But that will just give you more reasons to come home quickly.”

“I’ll try,” he just offered in a whisper, resting his forehead on his fist. “Call Steve if anything happens, alright?”

“Okay, okay, I will.” Long since gone were the times you’d argue with him about that. You knew how terrified he was at the thought of losing you. “I love you, baby.”

“También te amo.”

He didn’t immediately hang up, waiting just in case you wanted to add something else. The line went dead, however, and with his lips pressed Javi put the phone back in the center of the desk.

“You have it bad, Peña.”

Of course. Javier should’ve known Steve will start to nag at him again.

He reached into his pocket for a cigarette and put it between his lips. He knew you’d complain about the smell on his hair and clothes when he got home, but he was already too stressed out and in a desperate need of a smoke.

“I’m not in the mood, Murphy,” he muttered, pulling out the lighter.

“I thought a conversation with your sweetheart would brighten up your day?”

Javier looked up and just as he suspected, Steve had that same stupid grin on his face, like every time the topic was brought up.

Ever since your and Javi’s relationship became more serious, Steve was taking every opportunity to tease his partner. If Javi was feeling generous, he could kind of understand where his friend is coming from – after all, he himself didn’t think he’d ever act like a dumb teenage boy in the presence of a woman. But something about you mesmerized him from the very beginning, and, miraculously, here you both were, in a steady and loving relationship Javier Peña was always afraid of hoping for.

But alas, it was not a day to be understanding. He glared at Steve when the fellow agent didn’t take a hint.

“Shut up.”

“I wouldn’t say no to a food delivery, you know,” Steve spoke up with a smirk under his mustache. “I’m quite hungry.”

“I’ll sooner hire Escobar to make you sandwiches than let her do it.”

“You wound me, Javi. And to think I was about to take care of Carrillo and let you go home early.”

Javier looked up in surprise at his friend’s knowing smile. Then he blinked, slowly and tiredly, wondering if he didn’t misheard.

“Really?” he asked suspiciously, to which Steve shrugged.

“Why not? I’m in no rush since Connie and Olivia are in Miami, and as funny as it is to watch you yearn and pine, your brooding gets annoying after a while.” Javi didn’t move from his place, so Steve nodded in the direction of the exit. “Just go home to her, Peña. Before I change my mind.”

The face of the agent broke into a smile before he could collect himself. He stood up so quickly that he bumped his hip against the desk, but it didn’t phase him one bit. With a quick shove across the desktop, he swept all the documents to the folder and took his gun from the drawer, tucking it into his jeans.

Murphy was watching him with a smirk.

“You owe me, Javi.”

“Sure,” his partner replied over his shoulder, grabbing his jacket. “I’ll get you a sandwich tomorrow.”

A quiet laugh followed him when Peña promptly ran out of their office.

*****

After the call with Javi you tried to find yourself an occupation, intending to stay up as long as you could. He was working like crazy lately, sometimes not even coming home for the night, so a chance to finally spend some time with him – even if it would only be for half an hour – was something you didn’t want to miss.

So you wandered around his apartment. You read a little, watched TV, tidied up the cutlery drawer, folded Javi’s shirts, and now you got onto washing the dishes left from your dinner two days ago.

You were humming quietly, that stupid song which seemed to play on every radio as of late, when you heard a small sound from the hall. You paused and turned off the tap, your heart pounding in your chest, and sure enough there was it again – but this time you clearly recognized it as a key turning in the lock.

Before you could think of what to do, the door opened and Javi came in, locking eyes with you immediately. You blinked slowly, rooted to the spot with your hands lifted, still covered in water and soapsuds.

“Javi?” you asked in surprise. “What are you doin–”

Without saying a word, Javier came up to you in two long strides and put his hands around your waist, dipping you back and kissing you deeply. You made a noise in your throat, moving your wet hands aside, but then sighed contentedly as his lips caressed yours.

“I missed you, cariño. So much,” Javier murmured, not moving further away from your lips than two millimeters apart. “Couldn’t wait to get home to you.”

“But what about– Steve, and…” you tried to ask during those brief moments when he gave you a second to take a breath, but was unable (and unwilling) to move away when he was holding you so tightly.

“They’ll be fine,” Javier murmured, moving his hands to your cheeks to cradle them tenderly. “Steve said he’ll handle it.”

He firmly pressed his lips to yours one more time, his eyebrows scrunched with affection. You didn’t ask anything else, instead wrapping your arms around his neck, still careful not to get his clothes wet. After almost a minute of tender kisses and whispered Spanish phrases, Javi rested his forehead against yours with a content sigh. His eyes were closed and he just hummed when you nudged his nose with yours.

“You weren’t supposed to be home for the next few hours,” you said quietly.

“It was a damn torture. I couldn’t wait, hermosa,” he murmured and exhaled heavily. “God, I needed this.”

A bright smile spread across your face at the thought of this man thinking about and longing to see you so much. He sounded so stressed out and tired over the phone, but now it was like all nerves left him for just a moment.

“Do you want me to make you something to eat?” you asked in a whisper, but Javi shook his head.

“No. Just stay here.”

“I have to rinse the dishwashing liquid off my hands, though. And you need to take a shower.”

“Are you saying I smell?”

“A little. But I mostly mean the cigarette smoke on your hair.”

Javi sighed, murmuring something under his breath. You gave him a peck on the lips. “Go on, cariño. I’ll get everything ready and then we can lay down.”

Javier grumbled, displeased, but didn’t argue any further. “You’ll have to make it up to me, sweetheart.”

“If you manage to keep your eyes open.” Your comment made him crack a smile and you mirrored it. “Go shower. And then come back to me.”

Javi sighed but obediently went towards the bathroom, putting down his aviators and the gun on the table on the way there. You watched him fondly, your heart still swelling with love at how relieved he looked to see you. He must’ve felt your attention on him, somehow, because he turned around in the doorway and sent you a smirk.

“If you like the view so much, you can hop into the shower with me,” he teased, and you hummed, pretending to consider it.

“I would, but then it wouldn’t be a ‘quick shower’.” He smiled knowingly, and you scrunched your nose at him. “Javi, the longer you stand here, the less time we’ll have for cuddles.”

“You raise a good point, hermosa.”

With one last look he disappeared in the bathroom and you shook your head at his antics. A few seconds later you heard the sound of rushing water, so you hurried to your shared bedroom to get everything ready.

You pulled down the blinds and flipped the pillows to the colder side, and then swiftly changed into one of Javier’s shirts you liked to sleep in. You also took his gun from the table, knowing he preferred to have it within reach when he was resting with you.

Earlier that day you started to clean the cupboards, so the room was pretty messy. You spent a couple of minutes putting the piles of clothes and various knick knacks in their places, trying to be as quick as possible. Then you heard the water in the bathroom stopping, and it only took Javi two more minutes before he emerged from the bathroom in nothing but his boxers.

His hair was wet and chest bare, and exhaustion was marking his handsome features, painting shadows over his face. Without a second of hesitation Javi went up to you and wrapped his arms around your middle. You wanted to say that you’ll be done in a moment, but didn’t get a chance – he hid his face in the crook of your neck, grumbling tiredly, and started dragging you backwards to the bed. You swat at him with laughter, but those strong arms of his just held onto you tighter.

“Cariño, I still have to finish–”

“Leave it. You don’t have to do anything.”

“Javi…”

“Come lay with me, mi sol.” He softly pressed his lips to the sensitive skin on your neck, making you shiver. You felt him smirking. “Come on. Please.”

You faltered at this word, so rarely used by him. He sighed into your shoulder and swayed you two gently from side to side.

Javi was right. Everything else could wait.

You lifted his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles gently, feeling him relax behind your back.

“Alright,” you murmured. “Come here, baby.”

He hummed and kissed your neck again, then your shoulder, sneaking his hands under your – technically his – shirt.

“Have I ever told you how pretty you look in my clothes?” he asked quietly.

“Every time I wear it.” You felt him take a breath, but you beat him to it. “And don’t say they’d look even better on the floor.”

Javi chuckled and hugged you tighter, still slowly moving backwards with you. “Not this time. Just wanna have you in my arms.”

“You mean in your bed?” You couldn’t help but tease him, and yelped when he bit your neck lightly.

“Don’t tempt me.”

When you two reached the bed, Javi stopped and slowly turned you around before sitting down. You took his face in your hands, staring down at him lovingly, while he gently ran his palms up and down your thighs. He did look tired, with the exhaustion and sadness swimming in his beautiful dark eyes. After a moment he exhaled shakily and leaned forward, resting his forehead on your stomach.

“Wanna lie down?” you whispered softly, and he nodded without a word. “Okay. Come here.”

You gently released yourself from his hold and laid down, immediately reaching for Javier and tugging him to lay on top of you.

The moment his head touched your chest, Javi exhaled heavily with relief, closing his eyes. You ran your fingers through his hair, brushing the wet strands aside.

“Do you need anything?” you asked quietly, but he just muttered 'no' with a light shake of his head.

“I’ve got everything I need right here, querida.”

You grinned warmly, though he couldn’t see it. “You’re quite a romantic, Javier Peña.”

He chuckled under his breath, lifting himself slightly to meet your adoring gaze. “I thought you already knew all about it.”

“Did I?” you asked playfully, to which he lifted his head.

“What more can I tell you?” he murmured, leaning over you and smirking when your breath hitched in your throat. His brown irises danced across your face, drinking your features in. “Do you wanna hear how all I think about while working are your lips and the sound of your laugh? How the time spent together isn’t nearly enough for me to fully revel in you? Or…”

“Okay, that’s enough,” you said sheepishly, making Javi grin victoriously. “You’re probably spending that time in the office not thinking about me but of ways to mess with me.”

“Tal vez, mi sol.” He pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth and moved lower, whispering into your skin. “But I do wish I could spend more time with you.”

“I know, cariño.” You brushed his hair to the back with your fingers, scratching his occiput. “But it’s not your fault.”

He hummed without conviction, still busy kissing every inch of your skin he could reach. One of his hands went to your waist, his thumb tracing small circles there, while the other climbed up to your hand, entwining your fingers together.

“Didn’t you want to get some rest?” you asked breathlessly, trying to keep your composure. Your face was hot, and Javi hummed smugly at the pitch of your voice. He lifted his head and brushed your cheek with his knuckles, his hand still holding yours.

“I wanted to spend time con mi hermoso sol.” He touched his forehead to yours lovingly, gazing deeply into your eyes. “I was serious when I said you’re all I need.”

“I think you need some sleep, too.”

Javi grumbled, seemingly giving in, and kissed you sleepily one last time. His eyes were already closing and his mustache scratched your skin lightly.

“No, querida. Just you.”

*****

The next morning, Steve came to work to the sight of Javier trapping you with his arms against his desk. He was leaving soft pecks on your lips every once in a while – so unlike the Peña Murphy had known before – murmuring something to you with a smile, causing you to giggle, too. You tried to slip out of his grasp, but Javier just pulled you closer. The pair was obviously lost in the moment because neither of them noticed Steve, until he threw a pile of files onto his desk.

“Morning, guys,” he said nonchalantly, eyeing your bashful beam and Javi’s crooked smile with a smirk. He noted that his partner looked way better than yesterday. “D’you get any sleep?”

“Actually, I did.” Javier gazed over at you and squeezed your hand with this look of a lovesick puppy that Steve mocked so often. “Don’t remember the last time I’ve slept so well.”

“Happy to hear it, because we have a lot to do today.” He sat down and began organizing the notes from Carrillo’s report yesterday, wanting to fill his partner in as soon as possible. He heard Peña sigh.

“Of course.” He glanced up to see the other man stand up and kiss you lovingly – once, twice – before you lightly shoved him back onto the armchair. Steve rolled his eyes when Javi brought your hand to his lips, leaving one last lingering kiss, and then finally letting go of you.

“I’m gonna be late because of you,” you accused him, but he only smirked.

“Lo siento, cariño. Have a good day.”

You said your goodbyes to Steve and turned back to the exit. Murphy shook his head and met his partner’s dark eyes, sparkling with adoration.

“You really have it bad, Peña.”

He didn’t receive any answer, so he just smiled to himself and got back to arranging his desk.

He didn’t get a second of peace, however, because suddenly a paper bag was dropped on the documents he was just filing. Two – a bit squashed – sandwiches were peeking out from the brown paper.

Steve lifted his head, ready to throw another teasing comment, but Javier’s eyes – still full of that raw love – were focused solely on your figure leaving their office.

*****

querida - dear/darling

lo siento, cariño - I’m sorry, darling/honey

no sé - I don’t know

también te amo - I love you, too

hermosa - beautiful

mi sol - my sun/sunshine

tal vez - maybe

[overlyspecific]

Part 3 of Merlin as Robin Hood

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12

Arthur and his knights in the woods after being told to track Merlin down and bring him to justice.

Arthur: Everyone, split up and comb the area. He has to be here somewhere.

The knights take off in different directions until only Arthur remains.

Merlin: *as a disembodied voice from the forest* Not smart of you to be in these woods alone.

Arthur: *trying very hard to keep a blank princely expression* Not smart of you to not hide your tracks. I thought I taught you better than that.

Merlin: *Still unseen, voice whispering from the woods* How are you supposed to track me if I don’t leave you tracks?

Arthur: YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO WANT TO BE TRACKED!

Merlin: *finally appearing from behind a tree, grinning ear to ear* Where’s the fun in that?

Arthur draws his sword and points it at Merlin. Merlin’s smile wavers.

Merlin: You know you don’t need to use that with me. I would never hurt you.

Arthur: How can I trust anything you say? You’ve fooled me before.

Merlin: I couldn’t tell you because you would have put me to death, not so unsimilar to what you are trying to do now.

Arthur feels guilty all of a sudden and sheathes his sword.

Merlin: That’s better. Now we can have a civil chat like old times.

Arthur: *beginning to laugh and draw closer to Merlin, taking in his friend for the first time in months* When did you ever act civilly?

A knight bursts out of the woods with his sword drawn heading straight for Merlin. Arthur pushes Merlin out of the way. Merlin recovers from his shock and freezes the knight and Arthur with his magic.

Knight: Get away from the prince! I don’t know how you enchanted him to save your life but release him at once.

Merlin: *keeping his eyes on Arthur* Depends on what the king is willing to pay. How much is an enchantment free prince worth to the king.

Arthur: Merlin!

Merlin: I’m just having some fun. I can’t stay any longer though lads, I heard the king sent his most fearsome knights after me and I dont want to run into them.

Merlin approaches Arthur and brings a hand about an inch from Arthur’s face like he wants to touch his jaw but thinks better of it and puts his hand back down. He smiles a cocksure smile and disappears back into the shadows of the forest. After a couple of minutes, Arthur and the Knight are able to move again.

Knight: Sire, are you alright?

Arthur: Yes, I’m fine. Not a word of this to anyone.

Knight: But Prince Arthur, what about your father?

Arthur: We will tell him we lost the tracks in the woods. Gather the men, let’s get back before dawn breaks.

[kalinysu]

Muzan with wife reader who failed a mission and is trying to avoid him after he yelled at her? extra fluff pls

𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘. - Muzan x F!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: None/Small angst. (?)

𝐍𝗼𝐭𝐞𝐬: LAST thing i’ll write Muzan for a while. 😭

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

You had been avoiding Muzan for days. At first, he didn’t take the time to realize as he had been far too busy with other things to pay your obvious distancing any mind. He also never thought of you being upset with him for something that he did so often. Yelling? He’s yelled at practically everyone.

But you, you were his wife. That was the first time he had yelled at you, and you thought that he would treat you differently because you were his wife. But he yelled and got really angry with you, just like every other demon. It hurt you, more than he realized. And the fact that the two of you hadn’t talked in days and he didn’t notice, or rather didn’t care that something was up hurt even more.

You had been cooped up in your room for a while, and nobody had ever checked up on you or anything at all, not even your own husband.

Not that you expected it, everyone had been busy with the demon slayers and such. But still, he was your husband, and he had to have even a little free time at some point. You were sulking in bed, losing track of time, until finally, someone had opened your door.

“Get up, do something productive, like finding me that flower.”

Your husbands deep voice rang out as he rummaged through your drawing and took something before leaving without another word. The fact that he was now telling you only to find the flower stung. He most likely thought you were incapable of doing anything else.

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Days had gone by now, you had nothing, and it seemed Muzan was only growing more and more irritated as time went by. You had lost all hope of him ever coming to see you for even a split second of affection.

You were outside, somewhere. An unknown location, simply sitting on a hill in the moonlight. The flowers were pretty, but you couldn’t take the time to admire them. You were far too lost in your thoughts. You didn’t care for the flowers if they weren’t the one Muzan wanted.

Suddenly, you noticed someone sit down beside you.

Your husband.

Neither of you spoke, even though you really wanted to. It wasn’t an awkward silence, the two of you just knew it wasn’t the right time to talk. Well, you knew. Muzan didn’t talk because he didn’t want to or feel like it. He’s always been like that. He rarely showed affection through his words, but you didn’t mind to much, especially not anymore. You had grown used to the small gestures of affection from a while ago, but now you were convinced they had stopped.

“.. My lord if.. If i’ve done something to offend you—“ You started, not looking at him as you spoke.

“You’ve been distant.”

You looked up at him. He wasn’t looking at you, not avoiding, but simply looking across the hills. “You haven’t spoke to me in so long.. You have only uttered few words but those were orders, and weren’t frequent either.” You said, hugging your knees.

“Am I supposed to come to you? What happened to you coming to me?”

Your husband said. It sounded cold, but you knew that wasn’t his intention. You usually always came to him, showing affection and in return receiving affection back. He was right, you never went to him anymore. But..

“It seems you’ve been mad at me..”

“I was mad, but that’s no reason not to come to me. I’ve been irritable lately with all these nuisances.”

“But if your irritated.. you don’t have to take your anger out o..” You trailed off, going silent before you could even finish your sentence as you noticed him glaring at you. Looking away uncomfortably you mumbled slightly. “..Nevermind— I.. It’s fine but—“

“Sorry.”

You blinked a few times, wondering if you were hearing things. You looked back at him. “Hu—“

“I don’t like repeating myself.”

You went quiet.

“Your supposed to say you forgive me.”

“Right!!— I forgive you.” You said, still a little shocked he had actually apologized. You’d never heard that word come out of his mouth before, unless he was mocking someone but that was different.

“—‘My lord’?”

“—My lord.” You added, a small smile playing on your lips at the reminder. You leaned against his shoulder slightly, and in return, he placed a hand on your waist.

“Don’t avoid me like that again.”

His hand came up to your shoulder, pulling you closer to him, before he leaned down and placed a kiss on your head. When was the last time you had kissed him. You looked up at him.

“No.”

“No? No to what?” You said, with a fake innocence, before quickly giving him a peck on the lips before he could speak.

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[nadvs]

I'm really sorry to request this for sleeping with the enemy but I'm a sucker for angsty fics.

But what about their first fight as a couple? Maybe they're fighting over a stupid thing and they are both petty and don't want the other person to be right?

(or they have makeup sex and everything turns out fine lol)

OMG I LOVE IT SO MUCH. DON’T BE SORRY. angst will always be my fav 🙂‍↕️ (the length of this blurb is proof)

they got into arguments as friends but as a couple, they get way more emotional. they’re both confrontational and stubborn and have commitment issues that come out in different ways so it gets ugly 🫣

based on this fic

they’ve been official for almost a month now. as friends, their arguments were silly and usually short-lived, but this fight is nothing like those.

it was a saturday night at a house party on rafe’s college campus. they split off at one point in the night and when she went searching for him, she found him in the backyard, standing with a group of guys she hadn’t seen before.

the smell of weed hit her instantly. panic set in. if he gets caught doing drugs, his future is shot. one random drug test and he’ll be kicked off the team.

she approached him, resting her hand on his bicep, and said to him quietly but sternly, “what are you doing?”

rafe was drunk but caught the sharpness of her tone, looking down at her with a scowl.

“what’s with the attitude?” he muttered.

“are you serious? you can’t smoke. don’t be stupid about this.”

one of his friends overheard, letting out a dramatic hoot as he held a lit joint to his lips, clearly taunting rafe for being scolded.

“just go back inside,” rafe snapped.

his buddies jeered, chuckles scattering over the group.

“what?” she said.

he wriggled out of her grip, looking away from her. she huffed in disbelief before storming off, anger rushing through her.

it’s tuesday afternoon and they still haven’t spoken. all over a ten-second conversation. it’s how their arguments would always go as friends. both of them get mad, fast, then don’t talk for a few days.

but this is different. it hurts way more.

rafe went looking for her at the party later on and realized she left. he was her ride there so he called her a few times, worried about how she was getting back.

when she didn’t answer, he texted her: at least tell me you got home. she replied: home.

now, she’s sitting at a cafe on her campus, working on a paper. she opens their text conversation a few times a day, hoping maybe she just missed a notification from him. but all she sees is their last bitter exchange.

and even though she’s pissed beyond belief that he disrespected her, she’s following his home game today. she watches every game she can.

it’s been a close one for three quarters now. she has the stream playing, taking up half of her laptop screen. when the fourth quarter starts, she watches rafe continue to dominate the court.

but her stomach drops when she sees him fall after a collision with another player. because he doesn’t get up.

she makes the stream fullscreen, watching with wide eyes. he limps off the court. he doesn’t come back out for the rest of the game. her heart is twisted in a knot.

even though she’s angry and hurt that he hasn’t looked past his pride and called or texted, she already knows that she’s going to go over to his place later to check up on him.

it’s almost sunset when rafe parks his car, her campus blanketed in a warm orange glow. the past few days have been hell. now his ankle is throbbing in pain. and he still hasn’t talked to his girl.

he hates this. the way he’s always the first to make contact after an argument. it makes him feel like he has no backbone. he should stay mad at her. she assumed the worst. embarrassed him. she should be running after him.

he’s parked in front of her dorm building. he pulls out his phone and stares at his call history for a moment before tapping her name.

it rings a couple times. then he hears her voice.

“hello?”

“come downstairs,” he says sternly. “i’m in front of your building.”

she pauses before she answers.

“i’m not home. i’m at your house,” she tells him. “i just got here. liam told me you went out. you should be resting.”

rafe rakes his hand through his hair. even though their tones are terse, his stomach flips knowing that she probably still watched his game today. that she came over to see him after his injury. she sounds worried.

“stay there,” he says.

she hangs up, looking at liam from her spot on the house’s front step.

“i’ll just wait in his room,” she says. rafe’s teammate nods and steps aside so she can come in. after she asked him if rafe was home, her next question was what happened.

apparently, he sprained his ankle. she’s glad it’s not as bad as she imagined.

as she climbs up the stairs, liam calls her name.

“not my business,” he says when she turns to look at him, “but please figure this shit out. he’s been extra bitchy lately.”

she chuckles despite herself.

“did he tell you what happened?” she asks.

“no. he just keeps sulking. a bunch of us tried to get him to talk about it, but we got told to fuck off,” liam says with an indifferent shrug.

“i’ve never seen him like this, so i hope you guys fix whatever’s wrong. i know he can be…” he doesn’t find the right word. “but i can tell he really likes you. for what it’s worth.”

“thanks,” she says.

when rafe enters his room and sees her sitting in his desk chair, his body goes warm with a mixture of anger and longing. he missed her. looking at her. hearing her voice.

“you went to my dorm?” she asks.

he shuts the door behind him, leaving his keys and phone on his nightstand before sitting on his bed.

“yeah,” he says flatly. “to talk.”

he almost says something about how of course he’s the one who reached out first to try to mend things, but she must’ve come over with that same intention. or maybe not. maybe she came over to break up with him.

her eyes dart down to his ankle, her face crumpling with sadness.

“liam told me it’s a sprain. how bad is it?” she asks.

“bad,” rafe says, mostly so she’ll feel bad for him. when he sees her frown, he realizes it worked, and then he feels rotten for trying to manipulate her.

she has that effect on him. she makes him want to be a better person. he doesn’t want to be manipulative or cruel or angry. not with her.

“it’ll heal in a few days,” he adds to ease her worry. “i’m good. it’s nothing.”

“okay,” she says, clearly relieved. “i brought some ibuprofen in case you don’t have any.”

“why?” he says, still on edge.

“i’m still gonna worry about you. no matter how much you hurt me.”

she looks down as she rifles through her bag, pulling out the pill bottle and tossing it on his mattress.

“i hurt you?” he mutters, his tone sharp. “you think this is on me?”

“are you for real?” she matches his intensity immediately, her voice going louder. “you basically told me to get lost in front of your friends. they laughed at me.”

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” he scoffs with a pissed off, disbelieving smile. what she did was way worse.

“do you have any idea how humilating that was?” she snaps. rafe stares at her with a tight jaw. “i was worried. they do random drug tests all the time. what if they found it in your system? and you fucked up your future just because you wanted to get high at a random party?”

“you think i need you to do that for me?” he shouts. “think back. did you see me smoking? did i look high?”

“you were standing in a circle of guys who were passing a joint around,” she says. “it’s not crazy of me to assume.”

he shakes his head and scoffs.

“rafe,” she says evenly. “you disappeared. you looked like you were on something. i got freaked out.”

“and then called me stupid.”

“i didn’t call you stupid,” she counters. but she knows her argument is flimsy. her impulsive words were harsh. telling him don’t be stupid was basically calling him stupid.

“oh, my god,” he mutters angrily. he stands up, hands on his hips as he paces over to the door and back to the bed, trying to cool down, even on his sore ankle. “imagine i came up to you like that in front of your friends. you’d lose your shit way worse than i did.”

“please sit down,” she says. “you need to keep your weight off your foot.”

he doesn’t listen.

“i didn’t find you to fight with you that night,” she continues. she takes a deep breath, anger rushing through her veins. “i was just worried. and then you were mean to me, saying something about my attitude-”

“yeah, because you came over with a stick up your ass,” he says. “it was so embarrassing that you talked to me like that in front of people.”

“what, because i’m a girl?” she scoffs.

“because you’re my girl,” he snaps.

she stills, staring at him as he stands in the middle of his room. a few moments of tense silence sink between them.

“i had a few drinks,” he says. “that was all. i know about the drug tests. i’m not an idiot. i’ve been playing since freshman year. i was hanging out with some guys i know from one of my classes. they were smoking. i wasn’t. that was it.”

she lets his words wash over her.

“please sit down,” she finally says again, tears pricking her eyes. “please. i don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

she sniffles. he gives in and sits back down, elbows on his knees as he sits hunched over.

rafe swallows the lump in his throat, his gaze on the floor. he’s not used to someone caring about him this much. he’s always only had himself. even when he’s yelling at her, she’s pleading for him to rest.

he hates the feeling of being told what to do. but when it comes from her, it’s because she gives a shit. and that makes it feel almost okay.

“i’m sorry,” she says, her tone wobbly. “i shouldn’t have used that word. i shouldn’t have embarrassed you. i don’t think you’re stupid. i just hated the thought of you losing everything you’ve worked so hard for.”

she sighs shakily.

“but when you talked to me like that…” she says. “it made me feel so… small. they were laughing at me and you weren’t on my side. it reminded me of how those idiots started treating me after we started seeing each other.”

rafe’s lips twist tightly. so many of the guys on the team she cheers for and even some of the girls on her squad started alienating her, treating her like she was a traitor just for hanging out with rafe.

he knows how much that messed with her head. then the person she went through all that for embarrassed her in front of some guys who don’t even matter.

finally, his gaze meets hers. her stomach sinks once she sees that his eyes are glossy. she’s never seen him cry. he’s this affected? she thought he was just mad at her for being a bitch to him in front of his buddies.

“you told me before,” he mutters, “that you expect every relationship to crash and burn. you expect the worst from every guy you date.”

she blinks back tears. she did tell him that, word for word, back when they were just friends. it was a moment of drunken vulnerability when she was talking about how every man she’d ever been with just let her down. she didn’t think he’d remember it. that he’d apply it to himself.

“it was like you made your mind up,” he says. “you were already sure i was hiding something from you, already fucking something up.”

her forehead crinkles. she didn’t think that he’d see it like that.

“listen, i…” rafe exhales slowly. his anger has almost completely dissolved now that she actually apologized. now that she said it, he feels like he doesn’t deserve the sorry. she was just looking out for him. “i’m sorry, too. i was an asshole.”

she bites her lip. he doesn’t say more. she waits. and waits. and waits. but that’s his entire apology.

“okay,” she finally says, unsure of how to resolve this. she’s still carrying the weight of pain he caused her. he doesn’t seem to get how badly he hurt her.

“okay what?” he asks. his mind is racing. “okay like, this is over? you’re done?”

“no,” she says, her brows furrowing.

rafe looks miserable, sorrow etched into his features, and even though she’s still hurting, still mad at him, she seals the distance between them, moving to settle on the bed across from him.

“you know how shitty these past few days have been?” he says. “hoping you’ll text me but at the same time, hoping you won’t because what if the message says you want to go back to being friends? or just never want to see me again at all?”

the ache in her heart doubles.

“it didn’t cross my mind once to break up with you,” she says.

“really?” rafe meets her eyes again. he looks genuinely shocked by her words. she had no idea he was so afraid of being left. so sure that she’d give up on him so quickly.

“of course,” she whispers.

the tension in rafe’s chest slowly loosens from her reassurance. he comes closer, his guard crumbling. her hand is on his knee. he puts his hand over hers.

“this has been rough on me, too,” she says, sniffling. “i kept waiting for you to call. i hated that you brushed me off like that. and now it’s like you don’t even get how much you hurt me.”

this is a punch to his gut. but he deserves it.

“i was pissed. i wasn’t thinking straight,” he says. “and i… i called that night, remember? like five times. you only texted me that you were home and you never called back.”

her breath shakes again. he didn’t do enough. he can see that now.

“i should’ve kept calling,” he says. “i’m sorry, baby. i am. you were just looking out for me. i fucked up.”

his words make her anger lose its sharpness.

“so did i. i don’t expect the worst from you,” she mumbles. “i know how hard you work. i know you’re serious about basketball. i just… panicked.”

rafe needs to kiss her, to have the tangible evidence that she still wants him as bad as he wants her.

he leans forward, giving her the softest kiss he’s ever given her. he doesn’t have it in him to pull back. not when he’s missed her so bad that it hurts.

he gently presses his palm against the back of her neck, guiding her to nuzzle into him. he kisses the top of her head as she rests her cheek on his shoulder.

“i miss you so goddamn much,” he admits. “you have no idea how much i think about you.”

he feels her nod against him.

“me, too.”

“i’m sorry, okay?” rafe says.

“me, too,” she echoes.

they stay like that, curled into each other, hearts starting to beat in unison again.

as she breathes rafe’s scent, a warmth that she’s committed to memory now, she realizes they’re carrying more baggage than she would’ve expected.

maybe she does assume he’ll lie to her and disappoint her. it must be a knee-jerk reaction after so many failed relationships.

and he clearly has a fear of being left. he looked like he didn’t even believe her when she told him she wasn’t considering breaking up with him. maybe he never let anyone in before because he was sure they’d eventually bail on him.

but she knew they were both stubborn. both explosive. both their own version of damaged. it took three days and a long, tense argument to get here, touching again.

beneath the ache they share, she has hope. they came to each other to resolve this. this was their first fight as a couple and they made it out to the other end.

it might be hard sometimes. but as she feels his arms encircle her, heavy and warm and comforting, she knows it’s worth it. he’s worth it.

she lets out another shaky breath and he kisses the top of her head again. he can’t lose her. he won’t survive it if he does.

[mimasroom2]

My tennis star! (∩˃o˂∩)♡

Secretly dating jock!ellie

C/w: smut but for like 2 seconds. Mention of weed lol. Uhh that’s it this is pretty laid back. This is my first time using those fake texting things I think I like it? Idk

W/c: ≈ 800

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

- She plays tennis bc I said so 🎾

- She’d win a match and she’d post on her instagram story something REAL cheesy like “only reason why we won is because someone special was in the crowd💖” and everyone thinks she’s talking ab a guy but it’s really you >•<

- She’d pull you aside into an empty hallway and lean over you with her arm up (yknow. The classic masc move.) and whisper “You comin’ to the game tonight, baby?”

- It’s so fucking cheesy but you swear she makes your knees weak every time she talks with her sexy ass voice.

- “Too bad I can’t have a massive ass sign that says your name on it all big or something.” You grin widely and she laughs, leaning in to give you a soft kiss.

- You guys go on dates to the mall so she can buy new workout clothes & equipment. Every time you guys see someone you know in a store you split up and pretend to be looking at different things on other ends of the store. Eventually when they leave you two come back together and giggle.

- “Heya stranger.” She grins, showing you some knee high socks she found while she was pretending to look around.

- Only your two best friends know ab you and Ellie, so you’re always having to make up excuses as to why you’re going to the tennis games.

- “They needed help with grilling hot dogs and hamburgers for the game, and you know I always need more service hours!”

- “Man I’m sorry I can’t go to the movies tonight. I already told the tennis coach I’d do face painting for the little kids that come😕”

- You’re studying at your desk when the first message from Ellie absolutely jumpscares you. The girl really needs to learn about context 🙄

- Absolutely all the girls in the crowd and on the opposing team would swoon over her. She lovesssss the attention and always waves at the crowd and blows kisses to them. Sometimes she winks at the girls on the other team to purposefully distract them as they’re serving. You don’t feel jealous though because you know as soon as the game’s over you’re going back to her place to celebrate ;)

- You feel so fucking lucky you’re dating a jock as her toned muscular arm is pumping in and out of you.

- “Fuck,, guess all that racket swinging comes in handy when I’m fucking you, hm?” She smirks, and she was actually right. She could practically finger you forever and never get tired.

- She’s a perfectionist with her playing and in bed. She’d have to make you cum at least twice before she’s satisfied.

- The next morning Ellie has to leave early for practice so she lets you stay in her room to sleep in. She texts you a WHOLE BUNCH, effectively spamming your phone and waking you up:

- She comes up to you one day out of the blue and says “Hey y/n, I’m like so serious can you hide all my stoner shit until this season is over…?” You knew she smoked but she told you she only does it when she’s off in tennis, so you’re surprised when she hands you a shoebox full of all her stuff.

- “Yeah ‘m fine. Coach has been gettin’ on to me. Jus’ more stressed out is all.” Is all she has to say when you ask about it. She runs her hands through her hair, thinking you’re frustrated with her. You’re just glad she trusts you enough to make her keep her promises to herself.

- She’d ask you what your favorite color is and get a special racket in that color for whenever you see her play. She’d say it’s her lucky racket :,)

- You were never super into sports but you loveeeee spending time with Ellie, so she decides to give you some one on one lessons.

- “Yeah, thas’ it, baby.” She’d mutter in your ear from behind you. She’s holding the racket with you and helping you swing your arms the right way.

- You guys didn’t expect to see anyone on the tennis court this early, so when other people come and Ellie recognizes them, she quickly guides you guys behind a tree.

- Your stomach is filled with butterflies as she tucks your loose hair behind your ear and kisses you !!

- You feel like a little kid playing in the woods again because now you and Ellie are sneaking around the park/tennis court trying not to be seen by the other people

- She gets really cocky sometimes and posts soft launches of you on her insta stories

- It would be a picture of you in her lap WAHH! Her tattooed hand is on your thigh with the caption “keeping me occupied”

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

[entitled-fangirl]

Chance. (P4)

Aemond Targaryen x reader; Aegon x wife!reader

Summary: Things get messy quickly when she realizes Aemond's plans.

Part 1, 2, 3

Masterlist

..........................................

"Prince Aemond, there's been a riot."

Aemond stood tall, his back to the man. He turned his head slowly, taking in the guard's words. "And?"

"The queens and princess have been returned."

Aemond's head immediately shot to the man, his eye wide, "WHAT?"

…

"Please refrain from movement, your grace. I understand it is difficult."

She let out a soft groan, her jaw clenched so hard that she couldn't bring herself to speak.

The Grand Maester carefully moved the needle back through the skin, completing the first stitch on her brow.

Through the riot, her only major injury was a split brow. Easily manageable, though still painful.

Especially when she had to refrain from furrowing them when the pain came through. 

Sat up in bed for once, Aegon watched from afar as the maester pieced together his wife at her vanity.

He didn't try to speak. He didn't want to. Just watching. 

When the needle moved back through the skin, she took in a sharp breath, managing to not move her face besides the slight widening of her eyes. 

…

"Nonsense! Tell me." Aemond grinned.

"No! It's foolish!" She laughed. 

"I'm sure it's not. Just tell me."

She let out a breathy laugh at the thought of what she was to say, "Fine. No laughter."

He huffed playfully but shrugged, "Very well."

She took a deep breath before closing her eyes to avoid seeing his reaction. "Archery."

His eye widened. "Archery?"

She opened her eyes to look at him once she realized he was impressed rather than mocking.

He nodded, "I did not suspect that of you. Any good?"

She smiled, "My father would help me practice by throwing apples into the air."

"Did it work?"

She nodded with a smile, "Incredibly."

Aemond chuckled, "I'd like to see you with a bow in your hands."

She bit back her smile a bit, "Perhaps after our wedding."

"Oh?" He teased, "Are you trying to trick me, girl? Will I marry you only to find out you're horrid at it?"

She barked out a laugh, "Oh, yes. You've discovered my plan."

He smiled, "'Tis a good plan."

She smiled back, "It is."

…

"My queen."

She turned her head just barely to acknowledge his presence, "Aemond."

He frowned, "So informal?"

She let out a breath in amusement that quickly dropped back to her stoic behavior, "I'm afraid I'm not sure what to call you these days."

He hummed, moving further out on the balcony to join her.

He stared out at the city alongside her, "I heard of your recent… mishap."

She sighed.

He continued, "I am quite thankful you came out unharmed."

She scoffed under her breath.

He turned to look at her in slight anger, "Do my words offend you so?"

She shook her head, "You've no idea."

He let out a frustrated breath, "Then tell me."

She turned herself to look at him fully. The horrid sewing of her brow on display for him and a haunting look to match.

He had to hold himself back from gasping. It was rather horrid now, irritated and red. A striking difference to the usual calmness of her skin. 

"The maester said it may scar," she murmured. She then let out an unamused chuckle, "Perhaps you and I will match."

He gritted his teeth. "My people did this?"

She paused a moment at his choice of words, but continued, "War haunts more than just the warriors who fight it on the field."

"I'll kill them for you."

"You'll kill people fighting in these streets for their families? Wishing to feed their children at night? Do not waste your time."

Aemond jaw clenched. He forced himself to take a deep breath and reconvene himself, "Why do you not know what to call me?"

She stared out at the city, "You're a confusing man, Aemond."

"I'm not sure I understand."

She sighed, speaking with calculation but a tone of casualty, "You are the Prince. You are the King regent. You are my brother-by-law. You are our greatest warrior and fiercest dragon rider. You were my betrothed that I…" she paused as she looked at him, "And I still do not know if I can trust you."

He hummed and looked back out at the city, deep in thought. Finally, he spoke, "I assure you, I am no enemy to you, my queen."

"I have yet to decide that."

His head snapped to her, "How so? What is left to decide?" His voice grew rash, "I have defended my brother in battle and now I rule over his throne until he is well-"

"-He'll never be truly well, Aemond." She argued.

He sneered, "You must let me finish." He took a breath, "I rule in his stead, I fight his battles, and I care for his wife- all things he didn't want nor deserved from the beginning! He is weak!"

Her voice raised as she grew defensive, "Watch yourself!"

His eye scrutinized her form, "Do not pretend you are a threat to me."

"I am the QUEEN!" She yelled. 

"I. AM. THE. KING!" He roared and stepped up to her quickly.

She flinched away, taking a few steps back at the anger in his eyes.

Her voice returned to its quiet tone, "You've stated your fealty just then and there."

His face went from rage to surprise, then quickly to remorse, "I am not your enemy, my queen."

"And I almost married you," she stated. "Perhaps I married the right one after all."

…

She sat on the bed, watching the Maester help Aegon walk for the first time. 

Aegon took slow, painful steps and grunted and whines with each one. 

But a step was a step.

He managed across the room before his leg gave out.

Y/n quickly moved, throwing herself from the bed to help the maester catch him.

Together, they moved him back to the bed.

"He's making incredible progress, despite how slow it must feel to you, my queen."

She sighed lightly, "It is great progress. I am very pleased with it. Thank you."

He smiled, excusing himself quickly.

She turned her attention back to Aegon and ran a hand through what hair he had left, "That was wonderful, my love."

His eyes displayed the pain he was in. The whining continued softly as if involuntary escaping from his throat.

She turned serious suddenly, "I am going to ask you questions, Aegon. And… I don't wish to know the entire truth. You will either shake or nod your head. That is all. Understand?"

"Y… yes."

She look a long agonizing breath. She could ask anything.

"Did you truly slay Meleys?"

He shook his head.

"Is Princess Rhaenys truly dead?"

He nodded.

She sighed. "Did Aemond participate in the battle in any capacity?"

He nodded.

"Aemond and Vhagar killed Meleys?"

He nodded.

She bit her lip. How to word these questions just right?

"You were not caught in crossfire of any kind?"

He let out a grunt but shook his head.

Here it was. Just work up the nerve.

"Vhagar and her rider, Aemond Targaryen, released dragon fire upon you with the intent to kill you, knowing full and well that you were the king, Aegon Targaryen II? His brother?"

Aegon closed his eyes, beginning to hiccup and tears fell from his eyes and down his scarred face.

She stared at him, keeping the pity deep in her gut until she received an answer. "Aegon."

A curt nod.

..........................................................

taglist: @p45510n4f4shi0n, @darktrashsoulbear, @vieenr0se, @pez-unicorn, @marlenees-world, @thatbabydeer, @kahelis, @misspinkonmars

[luveline]

Ahh I’m so obsessed with stripper!reader and Spencer!! Do you have any more thoughts about them you’d be willing to share, maybe just a snippet of their life together? So so in love with them and your writing in general

i got a different request for them that I lost about reader struggling to afford essentials and so I thought I’d combine them, I hope that’s ok!! <;3 fem, 1.1k

cw food insecurity/ poverty 

You attempt to save money, but the ten dollars you don't spend on shampoo and conditioner gets used on painkillers. You hide fifty dollars in a book and try to forget about it, but your shoes split open on the walk to work, and it takes all afternoon to find it again. You try so hard to stretch your paycheck and something new makes it impossible. 

So it's a cold night in late December and you spent all your money for food on the gas bill. Your stomach hurts, but at least your nose isn't that horrible stiff cold that distracts. 

It's not just that your stomach hurts, though. You feel miserable about everything, and you know you need to ask someone for help. You've thought about selling something, but you already pawned your watch, and everything else is inconsequential. 

I could sell my phone… but how would I talk to Spencer? 

It's the stupidest thought you could've had. More importantly, how would you communicate with work? How would you call your electric and gas company, or talk to your landlord? 

Spencer would be so sad if he knew you’d sold your phone to pay for food. He’d probably be upset knowing you considered it. And you won’t get paid for another three days, so unless you can somehow live off of olives and cherries from the club bar, you have to ask Spencer for money or get a loan. With your credit score, one situation is more likely than the other. 

You bring your phone across the pillow and sigh before clicking on his contact. He’s practically the only number you call. 

“Hello?” you ask. 

“Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hello, handsome,” you murmur, staging an affect of someone who couldn’t be more unbothered by the world. 

“Yeah, hi. You okay?” 

You don’t want to butter him up. It feels dishonest. You should be straight forward. “Spencer. You know I hate asking you for things.” 

“Yes, it’s the only bad thing about you.” He sounds like he’s smiling. You can imagine him on his couch reading something obscure, or watching one of his sci-fi shows, curls in his eyes, grey pyjamas too short for him riding up his calves as they tend to do.

“But I need– um. I don’t have any money?” You don’t mean to phrase it like a question. “Like. Okay, so, I promise you I am not an irresponsible person, just, my gas bill went up and I didn’t know, but it’s so cold I paid it anyways, and now I have three dollars. Um. Total. And I haven’t eaten all day and I’m sorry I’m asking, but I just need like twenty dollars until I get paid on Tuesday. Could you let me borrow twenty dollars, please?” 

“Do you want to get takeout?” 

You cringe. “No, like, twenty dollars for groceries, Spence.” 

“No, I understood. That’s fine, I’ll happily give you twenty dollars. But you said you haven’t eaten today? And I miss you, so it’s an excuse?” Now he’s the one making questions out of statements. “I can get us Thai food.” 

Your stomach pangs at the thought. No matter how much you hate this, you know he loves you enough to want to bring you dinner, and you really will pay him back, so he might as well. “Yeah, please. I’d love to see you, Dr. Reid.”

“I’ll be quick,” he promises. 

He isn’t. You wonder if he’s forgotten you and your rumbling stomach, curled into a c-shape under the sheets. It’s warm, at least, nearly too warm, the blade of your hunger threatening to drive you mad. It’s not a nice feeling, depending on the kindness of a friend to see you through, nor is it very pleasant to be this hungry. You’ve gone hungry a hundred times, and this is the only time you’ve ever had someone you trusted enough to turn to during that time to ask for help. What if Spencer’s decided he isn’t comfortable with your lending after all and he doesn’t come over tonight? 

You’d been looking forward to seeing him again. It’s almost worse than the hunger. 

Just as you’re thinking he’s decided he doesn’t want to be your friend anymore, he lets himself in. 

Your apartment is small, consisting of three rooms. The bedroom, the bathroom, and the living room kitchen combination. He lets himself into the living room with a cacophony of rustling and a called, “Hello!” followed soon by a muttered swear. 

You laugh under your breath.

“Are you coming out here, or do you want to eat dinner in bed?” he asks. 

“I haven’t decided yet.” 

It’s quiet enough besides his arrival that you’ve no need to shout.

“Well, stay there if you want. Have you been drinking anything? I brought iced tea and some stuff for you to have breakfast tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” You force yourself to sit up. One moment you’re looking at the closed door and the next you’re squinting against the light of the kitchen, Spencer in the doorway like a silhouette against it. “Hey, Spence. You’re taller than last time.” 

“I’m the same size as always.”

“You’re still wearing your shoes. That must be it.” 

Spencer takes off his shoes and crosses the short distance to you. “Hi,” he says, taking your hand as he sits down. His fingers are freezing. “Sorry I took a while.”

“Sorry for asking you for money.” 

“It’s okay. It’s not something to worry about. Everyone has to ask a favour sometime.” 

His hair is wind blown, his eyes watery. The cold weather has nipped his pert nose a rosy pink and he’s smiling at you with chapped lips, unaware of or uncaring about his own circumstances in the face of yours. “You okay?” he asks, his pretty brown eyes narrowing, eyebrows pinching together at the starts. “You can’t just not eat all day and not tell me.”

You nod tightly. It’s humiliating to be in this position. 

He softens. “Did they tell you the rate was rising? It’s illegal in Virginia–”

You take your hand from his. “They sent me a letter I didn’t open. I knew it would be bad news.” 

Spencer looks down at your knees. “I know that you’re used to doing things by yourself, but you don’t have to anymore.”

“‘Cos you look after me,” you say quietly. 

“I’m trying to.” 

You laugh and jog your joined hands to make him look up. “Okay. Look after me some more then and give me a hug. I’m too warm, and you’re freezing.” 

He hugs you tightly, quick to rub your shoulder blade with his thumb. “Stay here, okay? I’ll bring you a plate.” 

You cling to him for a few seconds, until hunger wins, and you send him off into the kitchen again. 

[reneeyaps]

coffee - leah williamson

inspired by the song ‘coffee’ by chappell roan.

warnings: angst, slightly suggestive content.

1.8k words.

leah williamson x reader.

Life looked a lot different these days. It seemed so long ago since the last time you’d genuinely smiled, since the last time you’d said you were fine and had actually meant it.

It’d been three months since you and your girlfriend of two years, Leah Williamson, had broken up, and yet it felt like you’d lived a lifetime without her. You were still awfully aware of the cold, empty spot beside you when you woke in the mornings, the absence of Leah’s presence at the dining table worsening that shard of grief you felt in your gut. That was your sanctuary, the place where you used to talk about your days and share secrets and stories and giggle about the most ridiculous things. Every day you went into the kitchen, still hoping to see Leah already up and dressed in her Arsenal training kit, pouting when you’d walked in on her making breakfast for you when she’d wanted to surprise you in bed. You’d leave for work every day and found you were still startled to see that her coat was not hanging next to yours on its usual peg, the framed pictures of the two of you no longer hanging on the walls.

It was as if there’d never been any trace of another person residing in this house with you, but the memories were still engrained in your mind, and the pain was unlike anything you’d experienced before.

‘Can't meet you for dinner at the Italian place

It's where I met your family, some words were exchanged

I'd suggest the jazz bar on MaryAnn Street but

You'd buy me a drink and we know where that leads, so’

Getting out of the house didn’t help, especially when everywhere you went you were reminded of the places you’d visited together, the memories you’d made. As you turned the corner, your eyes fell on the small Italian restaurant where you’d met Leah’s family for the first time. You remembered how anxious you were that night, how desperate you were to make a good impression. You’d stood in the mirror, staring at your reflection and debating whether or not you needed to change again when Leah had entered the bedroom, snaking her arms around your waist and planting a trail of kisses on your neck and shoulder.

“You look gorgeous,” she’d said, resting her chin on your shoulder and grinning at you in the mirror. You immediately felt yourself relax a little, a smile creeping its way onto your face. Leah had always been good at reassuring you, able to calm your racing heart and spiralling thoughts in a way no one else could. She’d insisted that her family were going to love you, and she’d been right. They’d been so warm and welcoming from the moment you entered the restaurant, and you eased into conversation with them as if you’d known them for years.

And how could they not love you when it was evident how much Leah adored you? She couldn’t take her eyes off you and insisted on holding your hand the entire evening, running her thumb soothingly over your skin, the gesture bringing a smile to your lips.

‘I'll meet you for coffee 'cause if we have wine

You'll say that you want me, I know that's a lie

If I didn't love you, it would be fine

I'll meet you for coffee, only for coffee

Nowhere else is safe, every place leads back to your place.’

A month after you and Leah had split, you’d unintentionally ran into each other at a mutual friend’s party. You’d intended to try and ignore her, knowing talking to her and hearing her voice and seeing her smile would just make things a million times harder. You’d overestimated your own willpower, though, soon finding yourself in Leah’s company once again.

She asked if you wanted to go back to hers for a drink, and like a fool you’d said ‘yes’. A couple of glasses of wine later, and you two were making out on Leah’s sofa, tangled up in each other’s arms. “I still want you, you know?” Leah had whispered, her hands trailing down to undo the buttons on your jeans.

“Then why did you leave?” You asked breathlessly.

Leah paused, her eyes shooting upwards to meet your gaze. “y/n…” She sighed. You studied her face, noticing the sadness in her eyes. How had you not noticed it sooner, how broken she was? You’d been so caught up in your own pain and despair that you’d failed to consider how she was holding up.

Leah pulled away, and immediately you missed her being close to you, not realising just how much you’d craved her touch. “I think it’s best if you leave,” Leah said, looking at anything but you, “before we do something we both regret.”

‘You said let's do the park 'cause I love the park

That may be true but god forbid it gets dark

Here come the excuses that fuel the illusions

But I'd rather feel something than nothing at all, so’

You’d wasted no time in calling an Uber for yourself, fleeing from Leah’s apartment and trying desperately not to let the tears flow in the back of the car. It just wasn’t fair — how could she do this to you?! You’d been naive enough to think that you and Leah were for forever, that you’d end up getting married and growing old together, content in each other’s company until the end of time.

A few days after the party, you saw Leah again. This time the pair of you crossed paths in the park where you were walking your neighbour’s dog. You tried to act like you hadn’t seen Leah, staring straight ahead and picking up the pace, but Leah caught up to you easily enough, her hand circling around your wrist and bringing you to a halt. You whipped your head around. “Leave me alone,” you told her. You’d wanted to act tough, but your voice faltered, and it sounded like you were pleading more than you were telling.

You snatched your wrist from her grasp and started to walk away, but still Leah followed you. “y/n, wait!” She called. “I just wanted to apologise —”

“For what?” You demanded. “For your actions the other night? Or for breaking my heart?”

Leah’s eyes brimmed with tears that she quickly blinked away. Her gaze fell to the ground, unable to look at you and the mixture of heartbreak and anger displayed on your face. “Both…I’m so sorry, y/n.” And then she turned and walked away without another word, leaving you with another emotion you hadn’t yet experienced in your heartache — anger.

‘I'll meet you for coffee 'cause if we have wine

You'll say that you're sorry, I know that's a lie

If I didn't trust you, it would be fine

I'll meet you for coffee, only for coffee

Nowhere else is safe, every place leads back to your-’

Back to the present day, and you were walking through the familiar streets, trying not to think about how the smell of freshly baked bread wafting from the bakery reminded you of the many mornings you and Leah shared croissants and coffee before you dropped her off at training. The city was alive with the sound of laughter and clinking glasses from nearby restaurants. You paid no attention to it, lost in thought with your bag of groceries in hand.

That was when you turned the corner and suddenly collided with someone.

“Oh, I am so sorry!” You exclaimed, looking up to apologise. When you saw who you’d had the misfortune of bumping into, your breath caught in your throat. “Leah?” You said, your voice a mix of surprise and disbelief.

“Y/n?” Leah’s eyes widened, a flicker of something — sadness, perhaps — passing through them. For a second the pair of you just stood there staring at each other, you feeling as though you’d forgotten how to breathe, Leah awkwardly scratching the back of her neck, and both of you unable to form a sentence.

“How have you been?” Leah asked eventually.

“I’ve been…good,” the lie rolled off your tongue easily enough, you had grown accustomed to it by now, after all, “busy with work and everything. What about you?”

“Same here…busy but good. Got a game coming up this weekend.” Leah met your gaze. “I’d love it if you could make it.”

“Leah —”

“Sorry, no…that was silly of me. Um…” Leah shook her head and sighed. “How about we go get some coffee? There’s a little cafe just down the street, you know the one where we had our first date?”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” You asked, your voice gentler now.

“Probably not…but I’ve missed you, y/n.”

You contemplated her offer, every part of you desperately wanting to say yes. Realistically, though, you had to weigh up the potential consequences that might arise from agreeing to have coffee with Leah, remembering how much harder it was for you after you’d found yourself in Leah’s arms once again the night of your friend’s party. Seeing her again was just a reminder of everything you wanted, but everything you could not have. You had to say no.

‘We've done this before

And I don't need it anymore’

“We can’t, Leah,” you said eventually. Your heart broke at the sight of the sullen look on Leah’s face. “I mean you remember what happened last time —”

“It’s just coffee, y/n.”

“I know. But I don’t know if I can trust myself not to get too attached. I can’t let myself go there, Leah. Not again.” Your voice conveyed the ache you felt in your heart, the weeks of emotional turmoil you’d had to endure as you tried your best to carry on as if nothing had happened, as if you weren’t grieving what could have been. “Losing you is the worst thing that ever happened to me.”

Leah didn’t say anything. She knew deep down that you were right, and she knew that she deserved this rejection, that she only had herself to blame for the pain she’d put you through. She gave you a sad smile — God you missed how warm it used to be — and nodded her head. “I understand…”

You stepped forwards and kissed her cheek. “Take care of yourself, Leah.”

“You too, Y/N.”

It took every ounce of strength you had to walk away, to leave her there and not completely crumble. And as you crossed the street, you realised it was likely you’d never get over Leah. No matter how much time would pass, you’d probably never cease to question what could have been if things had been different, if you’d only fought harder to make things work.

‘So let's not do coffee, let's not even try

It’s better we leave it and give it some time

If I didn't love you, it would be fine

'Cause If we do coffee, it's never just coffee

It's never just coffee.’

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 9.2 | full chapter without breaks on AO3

content warning: more fluff, more laughs, a little bit of insecurity from Miguel and reader, underage drinking (all of the characters are aged 18-20 so by USA standards, that's underaged. but college kids will be college kids. and so will high school graduates.), a mention of an edible like once, Hobie is here! (fr this time), Pavitr too, even more jealous Miguel, 18+ so MNDI, wet wet relations, fellatio, cunnilingus, Miguel is a munch (his fantasies are unraveling finally), cum play if you squint, partially public indecency???, I think that's it

word count: 9.3k, halfway proofread (I split it really weirdly so I apologize for that lol)

Some of the links used in this part are just to give you an idea of what's going on! Enjoy! 🩵

Prev (Part 9.1) | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who texts Tyler while you’re in the shower. 

Dad…Tyler:

“She really loved it. Thank you so much for helping me out with this, Dad.”

“Any time, son! I’m glad everything went well! I can have my people send over the video form of the animation if you would like.”

“Sure, I can have it on hand.”

“And I take it, you like the yacht?”

“It’s extremely nice! Captain Barrett is pretty cool.”

“Don’t tell him you said that or it’ll go to that funny mustache.”

“Ok 😭”

“I did have a question though.”

“Ask away.”

“What did Kron do to his other boat?”

“What didn’t he do to that boat? He had too many friends on that thing all with a mix of substances I could never dream of combining. Their parents had to come drag them out lest the police get involved. I’ve never helped Kron with any event or party since then. He hasn’t earned it and he embarrassed me greatly.”

“Would you be more comfortable if we held off on the drinks?”

“See son, the difference between you and Kron is that you understand the legal ramifications of doing something so idiotic as having illegal items on a property that isn’t yours as a minor. You also have integrity and respect, something that Kron has lost sight of. I trust that neither you nor your friends will do anything too drastic.”

“Yeah, there’s no crazy stuff happening this weekend.”

“I believe it.”

“Get back to your girlfriend now. Thank you for checking up on your old man. Tell her I said hello.”

“For sure. Good night.”

“Good night!”

GymRat!Miguel who opens his arms up to you as you come out of the bathroom. You hurried to lay in his arms, skin warm from your shower. 

You snuggle up under his chin, “Today was really fun.”

“Yeah?” he rubs your head slowly. 

“Mm hm. Now, we should sleep.”

A yawn racks through Miguel’s body, the day of driving settling in his bones. 

You keep your ear on his chest. The steady tempo of his heart and his breaths lulling you to sleep. 

GymRat!Miguel who is still asleep by the time you wake up. You both ended up at opposite ends of the giant bed with just your legs intertwining. 

You look over to Miguel and watch his chest rise and fall, his snores crescendoing at each breath. 

You lay your head back on the pillow, eyes tracing the shape of his face in this morning light. The water was calm, giving the boat a slight rock. Some seagulls flew by, their sounds fading in and out. 

You scoot closer to get a better look, your hand lightly following the line of his face. 

His eyes flutter open at your touch, a brown sea welcoming you. 

“G’morning,” his voice is terribly deep like this. The timbre shoots straight to your core. 

“Morning. I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you whisper. 

Miguel moves to lay his head on your chest, taking a deep breath. “It’s fine. The sight made me feel like I went to heaven.”

He pulled you closer by the waist, “Ten more minutes?”

“Rest up all you need, bear-bear.”

GymRat!Miguel who is just as excited as Gabriel when he gets to the deck that morning. The agenda was swimming with the dolphins before everyone else got here.

Miguel and Gabriel were practically buzzing in their matching wetsuits. Dana snuck in a video laughing at the twin looks on their faces. 

GymRat!Miguel who sneaks glances at your form on the way to the dolphin center. You’re leaning over the edge of the smaller boat, the wind against your face. The wetsuit was doing wonders for the curve of your figure. 

GymRat!Miguel who ends up going into a nerd session about dolphins with Gabriel. Both of them are spitting out dolphin facts at the speed of light. 

 “I just think that if you were to be any dolphin, it’s so obvious that you would be an orca.” 

“But why, though? Because I’m big? That’s a new low, even for you, Gabri.”

“No, it’s because you’re mixed, obviously. Killer whale aka orca aka dolphin. Duh, Miguelito.”

“Don’t ‘duh’ me because that doesn’t even make sense. Orcas are still classified as dolphins even though they look like whales.”

“Just like you-”

“I’m going to smack you off the side of this boat if you finish that sentence.”

“Resulting to violence just like a killer whale, what a shame.”

“You’re so annoying. Orcas are smart, they speak different languages based on their pod, and the name was actually ‘whale killers,’ not ‘killer whales.’ That would make me an orca, but I would not be one because I would never take care of my family but abandon my children.”

“A lot of male dolphins abandon their families. A lot of them hang out with the bros and come back.”

“Female dolphins can do the hard work of carrying babies from ten to eighteen months, so enlighten me, Gabri. What are the male dolphins doing with the bros?”

Gabriel squinted his eyes and put his finger up weakly, “This is a trick question.”

“No it’s not! Don’t you know the answer?” Miguel put his hands out, as if waiting for a physical object to be presented. 

“I do know the answer, which is why I don’t want to give you the satisfaction.”

“Well, now I want to know because you two nerds wouldn’t shut up about bottlenose dolphins just five minutes ago,” Dana scoffs as she takes off her shades, the morning sun too much for her. 

“That’s not the same energy you had last night when I-”

“No one wants to hear that.”

“Shut up, Miguel,” Gabriel snaps back. “They take care of other dolphin babies. And sometimes become friends with benefits with their homies.”

Dana makes a disgusted face, “And you’re defending that? Wow. So when I have your kid you’re going to leave me and go do fuck all with Pavitr?”

“No, Dana, I would never do that! We discussed this! Miguel is going to study seahorses, make me a safe mutation, and I’ll carry them for you!”

“I don’t even study genetics so I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“So you wouldn’t carry her babies?” Gabriel gestures towards you in a panic. 

Miguel looks towards you at the front of the boat, watching the water go by. 

He thought of you as a mom, carrying his kid, holding their hand in the park, picking decor for the nursery. 

He thought of you under him, taking everything he could give you and more. You screaming his name as the bed creaks loud enough to fill the hallway. 

“I would, but that’s not the question right now.”

“Why did it take you so long to answer that?” Gabriel’s tone was high. 

“Oh my god, he was thinking of getting her pregnant,” Dana says in horror. 

“Oh, so I have to listen to your escapades, but I can’t even daydream in silence?”

GymRat!Miguel who listens intently to the staff. No harm shall come to any dolphin on his behalf.  

GymRat!Miguel who makes friends with one of the cute dolphins. Her name is Dotty because of the few spots she has on her body. 

She immediately gravitates towards Miguel. Her blowhole squeals constantly whenever Miguel talks to her. 

“Well I think Dotty is in love!” the instructor yells from across the enclosed water. 

GymRat!Miguel who laughs at Dana who keeps getting splashed on by the baby dolphins. 

GymRat!Miguel who looks so cute with his nose touching Dotty’s rostrum. They’re spinning in circles with Dotty clicking away like a cat purring. 

GymRat!Miguel who watches you interact with one of the bigger dolphins whose name is Mon. 

“Mon and Dotty are a couple, but he’s a little sad today because Dotty isn't giving him any attention,” the instructor says with a giant pout on her face. 

Even Mon’s clicks sounded sad and Miguel didn’t know how that was possible. 

Mon places his chin on your shoulder and you’re immediately in love, rubbing his body and consoling him and his broken heart. 

“It’s ok, Mon. You can hang out with me,” you say in a sweet voice. Mon’s fins squeezed you even tighter. 

A sweater, some random guys, Dana, Blake, and now a dolphin. Miguel can’t win. 

GymRat!Miguel who watches Mon click and spin happily when you feed him fish for doing a trick. 

“That was so good, Monie!” you pat his head, and he leans into your hands. 

GymRat!Miguel who thinks Dotty and Mon are a bit like you and him. They’re twirling in the water together, rubbing their bodies close. 

GymRat!Miguel who sits with you on the boat ride back, watching the dolphins race with the boat halfway to the yacht.

GymRat!Miguel whose eyebrows raise when he sees one of your friends as you guys step off the boat. 

“Hobie!” you squeal, running to hug the lanky figure. 

“My girl! How have you been, love?” he asks, a deep London accent lining his words. 

Love?

“I’m so happy you made it! How’s the apprenticeship? Any new techniques to share?”

“A lot more than techniques, if you know what I mean?” Hobie leaned on you as he snickered away. 

Miguel might pop a fuse. 

GymRat!Miguel who lingers by as you chat away with Hobie. The two of you are catching up for a while and Miguel wants to walk back to the room with you so you can help him take off this tight wetsuit. 

He’s lightly kicking at a puddle with his arms crossed when you call his name. 

“This is my boyfriend, Miguel,” you say, coming up to him and wrapping an arm around his.

“He’s a big one, innit?” Hobie says, holding his hand out. “Hobie Brown.”

Miguel shook it with a sturdy hand, “Miguel O’Hara. Nice to meet you.”

“How long have you known this firecracker for?” Hobie gestured to you with a smile.

“It’ll be a year once August hits. The best ten months of my life, honestly,” Miguel says, leaning down to kiss your temple. 

“She’s got you wrapped ‘round her finger, yeah?” Hobie smirked at the love drunk look on Miguel’s face. “Yeah, you’re a goner. That’s just how she is. One encounter and it’s hard to let go.”

Hobie went to pick up his one backpack, a master at light travel from how much he’s moving. 

“Don’t let me stop yous two from partying. See ya in an hour, love,” Hobie said walking away. 

You look up at Miguel, “The best ten months?”

“Yep. Love?”

“It’s a British thing. He’s friendly!”

“Hm.”

“And definitely demisexual.”

“Hmph.”

“You’re very territorial.”

“For good reason.”

GymRat!Miguel who makes it to the boardwalk after he’s changed to greet their friends and guide them to the yacht. 

There’s a lot of you, especially from Gabriel and Dana’s graduating class. Miguel greets everyone warmly. 

It feels good to unite his old friends and newer friends together.

GymRat!Miguel who makes a plan to be the best at every activity on the agenda today. Yeah, he wanted to have fun, but for some reason, he felt like he had something to prove.

He walks back out to the top deck to see Hobie laying out on the flat slats under the shade. His arms are crossed and his shades are hiding his full expression. 

From here, Miguel can hear Blake chatting it up with some of the girls that are hanging out near the on-deck pool. He looks over the edge and sees him grinning from ear to ear as the girls giggle. He clicks his teeth at the scene. 

“Big Migs, c’mere for a sec, will ya?” Hobie said.

“He’s a bit chatty, that one. An overachiever if I’ve ever seen it.”

On second thought, Miguel might like Hobie a lot.

“All morning, he’s been spitting nothing but rubbish. Going on and on about the boat and the city and his socials. Nothing of substance, just straight air.”

Miguel snickered, “It feels like that’s all he’s got going for himself. His daddy’s boat, his daddy’s money, and his face.”

Miguel recounts the events from last afternoon. How he lacked respect for not only him but for you and your personal space. 

“Not gonna lie, I’d smash his head in,” Hobie replied calmly.

Miguel let out a hearty laugh, “I wanted to and honestly, I could, but there are several circumstances stopping me. Such as the fact that we’re on his dad’s property.”

“But deep it, when’s the next time you’ll need to be on this thing?”

Miguel is about to respond in agreement when you round the corner from the stairs. 

“There you two are!”

You smile at the two of them, “Are you guys getting along? Has Hobie convinced you to join him on some scheme across the country?”

Miguel took a deep breath before responding. He knew what outfits you brought with you, a lot of them matched his own, but it was still like new whenever you put them on. 

He didn’t have enough time in the world to cherish your beauty. 

“They’re not schemes, baby, they’re elaborate plans,” Miguel responds.

“Man like, Migs!” Hobie hops up and drags his arm around Miguel’s shoulders. 

You shake your head with a warm smile on your face, laughing at Hobie’s antics.

“And you look stunning. Though, I’m not too sure if it’s fit for hoverboarding.”

“That’s because I’m jet skiing and shaking ass, Hobie. You guys can have fun flipping in the air.”

“Right on, then. Migs and I have important business to attend to.”

Miguel nods, “Extremely important.”

You eyed them both, “Uh huh.” They left in a controlled frenzy, Hobie pulling his wicks up with a giant band and Miguel cracking his neck.

You didn’t even want to know. 

GymRat!Miguel who is a bit peeved that Blake has to give the water hoverboard demonstration. He’s staying up there longer than necessary, grabbing girls to balance them in the middle of his board while he flips them around.

You’re standing next to Miguel during it all, waiting for Miguel’s turn so you can get a video.

“Hey!” Blake yells out in your direction. “Wanna take it for a spin?”

You shake your head and yell back, “No, I’m good!”

“Just three minutes! Don’t be scared! I won’t drop you.”

“No thanks,” you bite back, voice irritated. 

Blake smiles with a hand on his hip, ready to convince you, when Hobie pipes up, “The lady said no. Can we move on?”

Blake’s face cracked a bit as he told one of the crew members to kill the power in the waterboard. 

“What is up with him?” you mumble to yourself. 

“I think he likes you,” Pavitr remarked. “He wouldn’t stop asking Gabriel questions about you.”

“He’s really pushing it,” Miguel scoffed. Not only was he being overly flirty to every girl on board, he was adamant about getting your attention. “No wonder he gets along with Kron.”

You sported a twisted lip as you watched him strap up one of Gabriel’s friends. “I don’t know. Even if I was single, he’s a bit too…tiny. Communal.”

The laugh that left Miguel wiped the scowl right off of his face.

GymRat!Miguel who gets the hang of the hoverboard after one try. You’re recording him with a big smile on your face as he tries to spell “love” in the air. 

GymRat!Miguel who dies laughing at Gabriel’s horrible attempts at staying in the air. His body keeps shaking like a baby deer and he’s steady yelling in garbled Spanish. 

By the time his turn is over, Miguel is laid out on the boardwalk with tears down his face.

“This isn’t fucking funny, Miguel,” Gabriel cries out.

Miguel just rolls and laughs some more. 

GymRat!Miguel who watches you expertly drive a jet ski from the edge of the yacht. You’re shouting with one arm in the air as you race Dana and some of her friends. 

Miguel leans his head on his hand as he watches you zoom across the ocean. Your skin is glowing, your smile is sparkling, and your laugh is bright. 

GymRat!Miguel whose bubble of thoughts involving you, him, the water, some fruit, and a floatie is popped when Blake’s voice pierces through. 

“She’s pretty good at that.”

“Yep.” Maybe if Miguel ignored him enough, he’d go away.

“Looks like a dream, too.”

“Are you dumb or something?” Miguel turns his body, gripping the rail to not get in Blake’s face, but extending his height to cower over him.

“Woah,” Blake holds his hands up. “It was a compliment, dude, chill out. You’re not mad at me for finding her beautiful, are you?”

“That’s not what the fuck you’re doing and you know it.”

Blake makes a confused face, laughing off Miguel’s statement, “Kron said you guys were open.”

“Does it look like we’re fucking open?”

“Well, at first-”

“Keep talking and you’ll end up just like him. Knocked out. Do you want that?” Miguel edged closer to him. “Huh?”

Blake bristles, ready to defend himself when his head is knocked to the side. 

He looks next to him to see a gaggle of girls all with waterballoons and nerf guns. They yell at him to come on and pick a side. 

Blake scrambles to join them.

Miguel is about to follow when Hobie sweeps in front of him, “Cool it.”

GymRat!Miguel who almost takes an edible from Hobie but decides against it. 

“The offer is open all weekend.”

“Noted.”

GymRat!Miguel who gets roped into playing some games to start off the night, one of which is Never Have I Ever with shots. 

It started off innocently with things like peeing in a pool and cheating on a test to which everyone looked in shock at Miguel when he put a finger down. 

“I’m smart but if there’s a group effort to get the right answers, I’m not going to say no.”

Then it went left field and personal with things like threesomes, drunkenly fighting with others, and streaking. 

“Never have I ever…received head from a partner!”

A few of the guys put a finger down, groaning out and snickering as they had to take another shot. 

Miguel was trying not to dwell on how many experiences he lacked compared to the group, a lot of them younger than him. 

He rubbed his tongue across his teeth. He didn’t want to show his irritation on his face. 

Looking across the circle, he could see Gabriel’s eyes get wide, staring off beside you. 

Miguel followed his line of sight landing on you with a finger down and a shot in your hand. 

What the fuck. 

Who the fuck beat him to it? Where the fuck did it happen? When the fuck did it happen? How the fuck did he not know?

He’s ready for the game to be over. 

“Miguel is putting in work!” one guy pushes his elbow against Miguel’s side, laughing and patting his shoulders. 

Well, if people think he did it, it’s not so bad. 

“Oh my god, girl, how was it?” Dana’s friend asked you. 

Miguel tried his best not to scream bloody murder. 

“It was,” you pause, looking up to ponder. “It was something! Not particularly fun or good. My ex wasn’t the best at listening so he just poked at me. I faked everything that night.”

Miguel smirked. There were no big shoes to fill because they were never taken out of the box. Or even out of the store. 

“That sucks. I bet he thought you were in heaven.”

You laugh with the girls, joking in a way similar to the women that flooded Miguel’s for-you page. 

Miguel stepped away to get a breather. If he stayed any longer, he might do something drastic. 

GymRat!Miguel who is leaning on the boat when Gabriel comes to check up on him. 

“You ok, Miguelito?”

“Yeah, I’m alright. A little overwhelmed so I need to reset,” Miguel wrung his wrists while he let the sea breeze cool him down. 

“Is it the game? Don’t feel so bad,” Gabriel leans closer to Miguel and speaks in a stage whisper. “Some of them are a little too fast for their own good.”

Miguel snickered. Gabriel was definitely tipsy. 

“Thanks, Gabri.”

“Anytime. Don’t let them bring you down. You’re my perfect Miguelito. My pure baby!” Gabriel kissed him on the cheek.

“Ugh,” Miguel laughed and wiped at his wet cheek.

“Don’t wipe away at my love, broski.”

GymRat!Miguel who is guided by you in a dance. You’re a little tipsy and giggly, holding onto him as you dance to the music. 

Miguel just holds onto your hips and smiles with you. 

GymRat!Miguel who is locked in on your body as you grind against him. You’re arching your back and looking at him with a sparkle in your eye and Miguel feels like a wild animal.

When you lean back against him, he whispers in your ear about a private party just for the two of you. You bite your lip and turn to look at him. His eyes are tracing your lips and his hands are groping you. 

GymRat!Miguel who laughs at you as you wish everyone a good night quickly.

“I’ll see you guys in the morning!” you shout to your friends as you pull Miguel behind you to the room.

GymRat!Miguel who waits for you on the bed while you use the bathroom. 

He’s excited for an intimate night with just you. Parties were fun but it really couldn’t beat the serenity of smaller groups. It especially couldn’t beat talking all night with you. 

Everyone else was chilling out in other parts of the yacht, back in their hotel rooms, or night paddle boarding. 

You’re in the bathroom staring at the thin fabric in your hand. 

Miguel told you that there was a pool involved. 

You bought a micro bikini during a surge of confidence. It looked so cute on the model and you wanted to feel the same way. 

Now you’re standing in the bathroom freaking out, worried to death over the flimsy material. You were excited about Miguel seeing it, but you couldn’t shake your own nerves about how everything would play out. 

A knock at the door makes you jump.

You crack the door and peer up at Miguel. 

“You ok in there?” he asked, eyebrows pinched. 

“Yeah, I’m ok! I’ll be out in just a sec!”

You bite the bullet and place the bikini on. 

You didn’t account for your areolas to poke out beyond the triangles. You bit your lip as you turned to check out your backside.

At least your ass looked great. 

In a nervous motion, you pull your coverup over you and pull your hair up so that it doesn’t get too ruined by the water. It was now or never. 

GymRat!Miguel who holds your hand as he guides you to the private area. You’re squeezing his hand so tight. 

One of the stewardesses smiles as she sees you two coming. She stands next to a rope cutting off the area. 

“Good evening to you both! I hope you’ve been enjoying your stay so far,” her voice is polite and even. “Tonight, it’ll be just you two enjoying the Galaxy. If you need anything, just press the call button on the wall and I’ll be right down.”

She unlatches the rope and holds her arm out in the direction of the stairs.

You both slowly descend, careful not to slip on the trippy-looking wood. 

Taking a step into the room, Miguel stares in awe at the glowing pool. 

There’s petals fluttering about, small fairy lights surround the corners to add extra light. Looking up, you both can see the night sky with the stars adorning it. 

“This is beautiful,” you say, the lights surrounding you glittering in your eyes. 

You were staring at the stars and the lights but Miguel couldn’t help but to think that you were the most beautiful part of the room. 

He said this much to you, watching as you bent your head down hiding the smile on your face. Miguel lifted it back up and kissed you under the light of the stars. 

“Ready?” 

“Yeah, let me just go take this off.” 

You walk towards a chair with folded towels placed on it. 

“Miguel, these have our names on them!” you say with shock, running your fingers over the embroidered letters. Hearts surrounded the names and you felt fuzzy from the implication of the stewardess preparing this. 

“Yeah, I heard it was a part of the couple’s bundle,” he shouts from the pool. It wasn’t really a part of the bundle, but Miguel suggested it way before the trip. 

His back was turned to you, trying to set up a speaker by the pool. 

The moment was perfect, so you opened a champagne bottle and poured two glasses. You took a huge gulp of one and removed your slip. 

GymRat!Miguel who hears you entering the water, so he hurries to pick out a song. 

The mood needs to be right. 

He turns to you and nearly drowns at the sight. (Art is not affiliated with this fic, but I couldn't find any plus-size women in real life on Pinterest with this type of bikini! Please give this artist some love, I love their art!)

You’re coming down the stairs with two glasses in your hand and your skin on full display. The strings are digging tight into your skin and your breasts are practically spilling out from every side. 

Miguel is stunned.

“Come grab your drink, Miguel,” your voice is like butter in his ears. 

His eyes don’t leave you as he swims across the pool. The only sounds that could be heard are the water moving around him and the music playing. When he gets closer, he stands up, water dripping down his body. He’s breathing hard and is laser-focused on your frame. 

You feel an array of emotions. You feel like running, jumping, maybe hiding. His gaze is too heavy and he hasn’t spoken a word yet. 

You don’t know how long you two stare at each other before Miguel breaks the tension, “You’re going to be the death of me.”

He takes the glasses from your hand with one hand and picks you up in the other. You cling to him as he goes to the edge of the pool, places one glass down and chugs the other. 

In a flash, you’re sitting on the edge and he’s holding his body out of the water in order to kiss you. 

He pushes your mouth open, pulling at your lip with his teeth. He was desperate, wanting more. 

Your hands find your way to his hair, the tips wet from his swim. You card your fingers through his locks, opening your mouth wider as Miguel groans onto your tongue. 

He can’t stop, body moving forward the deeper the kisses get. Your legs open wider and your hands fall down Miguel’s back. You go lower than usual, pushing your hands under his swimsuit, fingertips grazing over the skin of his ass. 

Miguel parts, spit-ridden mouth red and messy. 

“You’re making this so hard for me,” he says against your lips. You’re both panting into each other’s mouths. 

Your body feels like jelly. The way that he’s looking at you fills you with desire, “Making what hard?” You’re quivering and clenching as his eyes seem to get darker. 

“Baby,” Miguel kisses the corner of your lips then your jaw. He moves to where your jaw and neck connect, licking  “Amor. I can’t.”

You move your head, encouraging him to continue, “You can if you want to.”

“No, I’m supposed to take this slow,” his mouth moved to your collarbone, sucking at the skin as you squeezed your thighs around him. “I need to take this slow.”

He gets to your breasts, pressing your nipples through the material and watching as your areolas poked out more. “Mierda.”

You try to talk as Miguel takes one breast into his mouth, “It’s ok to want more. I want, ugh, I want you to take more.” He pulls at your nipple, watching as it rises more through the fabric. His thumb traces it, causing you to twitch in his hold. 

He continues to rub over the fabric as he kisses down your stomach. The string is wrapping around your stomach like a gift just for him. 

“Tomorrow, baby,” he says into your skin. “I’ll take more tomorrow.”

He needed to stop before he broke the promise he made to himself. 

He hears you whine as he gets eerily close to your sex before jerking his body straight. 

“Why?” you sound so needy and broken. 

“Because,” he kisses your pout away. “Tomorrow, I’m going to take all I need. You just need to trust me. Please.”

You nod your head, heart pounding with his words. 

GymRat!Miguel who lets you persuade him into swapping places. All it took was a few blinks of your eyes and Miguel was swooning.

“I saw you walk away during the game today. I wanted to make sure that the next time you play, you’re able to put a finger down.”

That’s what you told him with a sweet smile on your face.

Now you’re rubbing up his thighs and Miguel is about to pass out from the view of you peering up at him. Your eyes were foggy and the slope of your neck to your chest was glistening. From this angle, Miguel could see the curve of your ass with the bikini barely covering it.

You run your hands down his chest, fingers dancing along the slopes and planes, leaving a wet trail in your wake. Miguel’s stomach tightens as you make it below his belly button, the sensation of your fingertips across his happy trail building a fury in his core.

You kiss him through his swimsuit causing him to jump.

You hold his thighs and tilt your head to lean on one, “Are you nervous, Miggy?” Your knuckles rake against his groin, lingering in spots that made his inner thighs clench the most.

“I,” Miguel is trembling like a leaf. He can barely get the words out from how much energy he's using to hold himself up. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” You lift your body from the water a little, pressing your tits closer to his clothed sex. “Baby, I need you to know. I can’t go further without your permission.”

Miguel feels like he could cum right now.

“I’m really nervous, but I want to experience this.”

You hum as you start to pull at his waistband. His eyes scrunch closed as his dick springs up. 

You’re met with a sight you had missed. The size is still as intimidating as the last time. 

You rub his thighs and give yourself a quiet pep talk. You were determined to make your boyfriend feel good. 

Miguel looks back down at you and swallows dryly, anxious at the look in your eyes and your silence, “If it’s too much, w-we can stop here-”

“No.”

The first lick of his tip has Miguel rising off of the pool edge, pre-cum escaping him.

He whines, embarrassed at his lack of control, but his dick is twitching from the sensation.

“Miguel,” your hands are back on his hips at a flimsy attempt to hold him down. “You need to be careful, baby.”

“Don’t call me baby right now.” Miguel’s voice is winded like he’s been running a marathon.

You look up at him. His mouth is twisted up and his eyebrows are furrowed. His stomach keeps shaking and his elbows don’t know if they want to bend or extend. When he looks down at you, he lets out a whimper, dick jerking against his will.

You hold your lips right above the head, the heat of it making you excited, “Baby.”

Miguel jerks again as you take his tip into your mouth, more of his pre-cum slipping out. His body is wound tight and he’s losing sense of it. Your mouth is so warm and he’s crying out from just you suckling along the head. He would be grateful with just this alone.

You push yourself lower, mouth adjusting to the widening girth. You don’t know if it’s the champagne combined with the other drinks you’ve had today, but the taste is making your mind fuzzy. 

You hum as you move your tongue along the underside of his length, his essence melting into your mouth. Miguel continues to twitch against your lips. 

You look up and he just groans when his eyes connect with yours. 

“P-pretty,” he stutters out, brain-to-mouth filter completely disintegrating. One of his arms covers his mouth as he fights to quiet down. There’s no telling what the stewardess could hear from above. 

You decided to go deeper, wanting to hear him some more. You make it halfway down before you grip his shaft and give it a few semi-dry pumps. 

Miguel just about shouts at the sensation, legs jerking enough to splash the water around you. 

Satisfied with the reaction, you release him with a pop and slide your tongue down to the base, trying to get him as wet as possible for what you’re about to attempt to do. You pucker your lips to leave wet kisses all over his shaft, sucking occasionally. 

All Miguel can do is whimper and shake. 

You hold him, sliding your hand up and down, applying pressure whenever you glide over the top, “You can hold on to me.”

Miguel shakes his head and releases his bottom lip from his teeth to speak, but his words are jumbled up in a heated mess. 

“Say it again, Miguel. I don’t understand,” you bring your mouth to the head again, this time, cupping his balls as you slide back down. 

Early spurts of cum land in your mouth as Miguel uselessly grips at the flat ground. He’s moaning out your name and if you weren’t sliding him down your throat, you would think he’s crying for you. 

“I-I don’t wanna hurt you,” Miguel takes heavy breaths in the middle of his sentence. 

Even like this he was oh so sweet. You don’t push it and continue on. 

As you reach the hilt, you force yourself to relax, thumb pressed against your fisted palm. He was heavy on your tongue and you needed to find the right pace. 

You slowly move your head up and down, lips wet with spit and slick. You build a steady tempo that has Miguel involuntarily moving his hips and moaning in a senseless manner. 

He was conflicted, core heated at the sound of your throat barely taking him, but wanting to pull you off so you don’t choke all because of him. Hot tears ran down his face as you didn’t let up. 

He chooses the latter, foggy mind coming to a decision. His shaky hands reach towards your face, your cheeks hallowed and eyes closed. His hands make it to your cheeks when you reach the hilt again and swallow around his head. 

Miguel scares himself with the moan he lets out. 

You panic as you swallow his load, mouth completely full. 

Miguel hurries to pull you off, “Shit! Baby, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s ok,” you cough as you try to catch your breath. Drips of him that you didn’t swallow falling to your chest. “I wish you would have told me you were about cum, though.”

“I didn’t know!” he’s red in the face. “God, I’m so sorry!”

“Was it good, though?” You look up at him with lips and sparkling eyes. You’re holding your tits up so that his cum wouldn’t get in the pool. 

Miguel’s dick twitches like it’s trying to wake back up again. You notice it and a grin plants itself right onto your face. 

“Do you really have to ask me that?”

“Yes, Miggy.”

“I think my embarrassing finish was enough but yes, you made me feel good. It was way more than good. Now come out of the pool before you get any more ideas.”

“It wasn’t embarrassing!” you reply as Miguel picks you up from the water and on his stomach while lays back. “‘Was kinda hot. You felt so good that you couldn’t wait.”

You slide your finger over your cleavage to pick up the leftover essence and plop right in your mouth. 

Miguel grips your thighs as he looks up at you, “No, stop that, you vixen.”

You’re going to be the death of him for sure. 

GymRat!Miguel whose legs are like jelly when you help him up from the ground. His thighs haven’t shaken this much since his first leg day almost five years ago. 

“Do you need to lie down on the beach chair for a minute?” you ask with genuine concern. 

“Yeah, I think I need a second,” Miguel says, trying his best not to put his entire weight onto you. 

GymRat!Miguel who watches you watch him from the pool. You’re at the edge, leaning over and smiling at him while you let your body float. 

“Next time, I want to get, like, really hoarse. We should work on your resistance and my tolerance. Oh! And maybe we can do that thing where I hold your-”

“Amor, please. Let’s talk about this when I’m not halfway dying,” Miguel groans, dick half hard. “How are you so good at this anyway?”

“Practice! With my ex and like one other fling. They weren’t nearly as responsive as you, though.”

Miguel squints at your figure. 

“Or fun. Or satisfying. Or tasty. Or big. Can I do it one more time, Miggy?”

Miguel stares at you for a minute or two then groans, “Come on.”

You leave the water and walk over to him with glee. 

GymRat!Miguel who grabs lightly onto your head this time, fingers twitching occasionally. His legs are parted and you’re laid out on the horizontal part of the beach chair. Miguel is constantly looking from your face to your ass, experiencing a sensation overload. You take it easy on him this time, saving some of your tricks and things you wanted to try for a later date. 

The room is filled once again with Miguel’s grunts and whimpers plus your mouth and throat molding unto him. 

GymRat!Miguel who warns you this time. You let go with a pop and let him paint your open mouth. He shudders as you look at him through it all, pumping him slowly until he can't take anymore. A lonely tear escaped him, eyes heavy and chest heaving. 

GymRat!Miguel who barely makes it back up the stairs. He gives the stewardess a polite smile but you can barely look at her for longer than a second. 

“It was really lovely,” you say leaning into Miguel’s side, voice a little gone. 

“Yeah, amazing,” Miguel snickers. You nudge him at the back of his leg causing him to stagger a bit. 

The stewardess just laughs and wishes you both a good night. 

GymRat!Miguel who sleeps like a log that night. His soul needed to rejuvenate. 

GymRat!Miguel who wakes up a new man. He feels like he can conquer the world. As of now, the world is a new set of water activities with their friends. 

He kisses you on the cheek in your sleeping state makes his way out to the deck, wanting to do some morning stretches and yoga if he could fit it in. 

He walked out to see Dana talking to Blake, an indifferent look on her face.

“I just can’t believe he would lie to me like that, you know? Like that’s fucked up. Here I was, ready to get something and he set me up.” 

“Yeah, no. That really sucks,” Dana replies with a big yawn.

“I mean, I thought we were bros. I thought-”

“Miguel! My knight in shining armor,” Dana practically screams when she spots Miguel.

Blake tenses up so that if he mimics a timid raccoon. 

“Morning,” Miguel walks up to them.

Blake breaks out into a sweat, “Hey man, I’m sorry about last night. I would have never done that stuff if I knew. I don’t know why Kron told me you guys were open.”

“I think you need some new friends and better social cues,” Miguel brushed Blake off and walked with Dana onto the boardwalk. 

“Thank god you got here. That was his fourth iteration of ‘bro code should be respected.’ I was going to start screaming if he kept talking.”

GymRat!Miguel who lets Dana guide him in a mini yoga class on the beach. It’s pretty nice with the waves crashing and the birds squawking occasionally.

GymRat!Miguel whose downward dog pose is almost disrupted by you whistling from a spot in the sand. 

You and Gabriel had snuck up on Miguel and Dana, cackling like hyenas.

“Baby, I think you can go deeper,” you shout over the waves, encouraging Miguel to stretch.

“Gross,” Gabriel shudders. 

GymRat!Miguel who wants to use you for a flying pose but you refuse. 

“I’m not walking back with sand up my back.”

“Can we try it later, though?” Miguel pouted. 

“On safe carpet, yes.”

GymRat!Miguel who settles for a forward fold with you. You stretch your body across his back as he reaches down to touch his toes. 

It’s nice until you both switch positions. 

“I think I’m dying,” you gasp out. You sound like an old man on his last breath. 

“No, you’re not. You just need more practice,” Miguel chides from above. 

“When will I ever need this pose in life?”

“Flexibility is good for you!” Miguel replies after a while. 

“Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

GymRat!Miguel who tilts his head at your breakfast plate piled with pineapples. 

“You don’t want an omelet?”

“Maybe later.”

GymRat!Miguel who joined any group activity he could. 

From the inflatable water obstacle course,  

which Gabriel cheated on by the way,

To the boat tour, he got so many pictures for you for his rotating home screen,

To the banana boat rides that he almost lost his life on. It took you, Gabriel, and Dana to hold onto him. 

GymRat!Miguel who surprises you with a “rooftop” dinner on the horizon on the highest part of the yacht. You’re wearing that same green dress that made him go crazy in the dressing room. 

“This is so gorgeous, Miguel,” you sigh as you take in the small scene. 

From up here, you could see the breathtaking view of the ocean and the city. The sun was close to setting, people were out and about, and the group was partaking in last-minute activities like parasailing and water walking with bubble balls but you could only focus on the glow around Miguel. 

“Did you enjoy this weekend?”

You nod your head, shy with attention, “I really did. I had so much fun.”

“Even with boys that don’t understand the word ‘no’?”

“When I have my strong boyfriend there to defend me, what is there to be afraid of?” you smile at him. 

Miguel sits up straighter at that, chest puffing out.

You laugh at his state, “Seriously, though. This was one of the best summers ever. I’m really glad Mr. Stone arranged this and I’m even more glad that you brought me along.”

“Of course I did. You’re my girl. Mi amor, mi luz,” Miguel reached out to run your hand. “I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”

Like a flower unfurled, your heart took in his words. You leaned across the table until you could brush your lips with his, only the sun peeking through the two of you. 

You let go and lean back a little. “I’m not letting go of you either. I want you by my side,” you say, eyes panning back and forth between his.

“And that’s where I’ll stay.”

GymRat!Miguel who covers your eyes on the way back to the room.

You’re whining because you don’t have nearly as much planned for him as he always does for you. 

“Amor, you could just text me an emoji and I would be happy. You deserve good things. Don’t worry about me.”

GymRat!Miguel who wraps his arm around you as you open your eyes to the room. 

It’s lit with soft lights, decorated lightly with rose petals in the shape of a heart on the ground, and a banner full of pictures with the two of you. Pictures from outside of lab, pictures of you with oil paint on your face, pictures of him piled with notes in the study lab. 

Pictures of you both on your early dates, pictures of you looking at him in the car, pictures where he’s kissing your face off. 

You gasp at the scene, feet stuck in the entryway.

“Surprise,” Miguel says into your ear, kissing the top of it.

“I don’t think I have any tears left,” your voice is watery enough to dispute that lie.

GymRat!Miguel who kisses you deeply in the middle of the rose heart. You’re cradling his face with one hand and rubbing your thumb across his sideburn with another.

You’re so wrapped up in his arms and his presence that you miss his question.

“Can you do what?”

Miguel’s hands find their way to your ass, pulling you even closer, “Can I please eat you out?”

When you stare at him with your eyebrows raised, it only pushes him to continue.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. I’ve dreamed about it, researched how to do it, studied it, daydreamed about it. I need to do it before I go crazy.”

He bent down to get on his knees, hands never letting go of your body.

“Please, baby. If you’ll allow me, I really want to make you feel good.”

At first, all you could think was that Dana was right and definitely a girl’s girl. Then, you looked down at Miguel whose head was pressed up against your torso, eyes pleading with you. 

You ran your hand through his hair, “You need to do it?”

“Uh huh,” he nodded, nuzzling into your body through your dress. 

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to fake my reactions for you.” You didn’t have the heart to lie to him like that, especially when he’s looking at you like that. 

“You won’t have to,” Miguel mumbles into your skin. “I’m confident, but if something is weird, stop me immediately.”

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t give you time to think when you whisper out an “ok.” He’s picking you up by the legs and plopping you on the bed.

Like a switch, he’s kissing down your body, pulling at the stretchy green fabric to expose your skin. He’s crowding your space in the most desired way possible, a fire building within him.

“Miguel, the dress isn’t going to come off like that,” you say, internally laughing at Miguel tugging to no avail. 

He starts to pull so hard that you can hear threads ripping. Before you can stop him, there’s a makeshift slit up your thigh. 

You lean up on your elbows and give Miguel a look. He just stares sheepishly and lets you stand up to pull the dress off. 

“You gotta be more patient baby,” you purred, bending down to kiss his lips. 

When you lean back, you move backwards to sit on the bed. It’s just you, your black panties, and a hungry Miguel at your feet.

The further you inch up the bed, the more Miguel crawls to be closer to you. 

“Can I kiss you?” he breathes into your mouth, eyes never leaving yours.

“Please.”

Miguel melts into your skin, mouth molding to a familiar shape. His breaths are heavy and sporadic, too excited to finally know what you feel like on his tongue.

You reach to pull his shirt off, wanting to feel his chest against yours, wanting to feel the expanse of his back while he pressed up against you. Miguel follows your movements without letting up.

He sighed into your lips with pleasure as he let his hand flow down your body, grabbing a breast to massage. You hummed into his mouth, legs parting to bring him closer. Eager to please, Miguel slipped his shorts below his bulged, grinding against you.

You start to wrap your legs around his waist before Miguel interrupts you with a sturdy hand under your knee, and a promise to devour you to your neck.

GymRat!Miguel who groans when he slides your panties down your legs. The slope of your thick thighs to your ass has Miguel ready to burst. 

He gets on his knees to maneuver your legs up into your arms. You peek up at him over your knees, your wet cunt kissing the air. 

He licks his lips at the sight, taking a tentative touch at your wet lips. 

You jump at the sensation, the feeling of Miguel seeing you this vulnerable new. 

He bends down to kiss them, hands on the back of your thighs for extra support. Your core flutters as he takes a few more kisses to your sex, tongue reaching out to trace from the bottom to the top. At the first taste, Miguel is groaning into you, sending vibrations through your body. 

You sigh out in bliss as your grip loosens on your legs. Miguel flattens his body on the bed and spreads your legs wide, tongue continuing to savor the taste of you. 

At this angle, Miguel pushes his tongue in between your folds, feeling your warmth around him. He laps at your entrance slowly causing you to flutter around him and reach for his hair.

He slurps up the juices that try to escape him causing you to moan out his name. He just hums in response, breaching further inside. The more noises he makes, the wetter you get. The room is full of the sound of him lapping everything he gave you and your quiet moans.

“Miguel,” your breath hitched as he swiped over a particular spot. You look down at Miguel whose eyes are closed and hands are tight on your thighs. You feel a building heat seeing how much of a trance he’s in. 

Just when you feel a bud sprouting within you, he directs his attention towards your clit, searching until he finds it. At the first skim across it, your hips are bucking up off the bed. Miguel is quick to hold you down, placing his weight on your thighs and lapping continuously at the pearl. 

“Fuck!” you shout, hitting the mattress. You’re writhing beneath him, unable to control your body. “Don’t stop, Miguel, please.”

Miguel groans through it all, lapping up every drop. 

“Baby, I’m gonna-” a scream pushes through you as your body shakes with pleasure. Miguel takes it like a champ, slurping like you were his last meal.

As you twitch with aftershocks, Miguel barely gives you time to recover before he’s diving back into your entrance. You let out a sob, still sensitive and quivering as your legs move too close before Miguel growls and wraps his arms around your thighs to keep them open. 

He’s sinking into you, moving his tongue at a steady pace and sucking in between. Your moans were a pool of words from his name to begging to profanities crescendoing across the air.

Miguel would rarely part for air, adamant on bringing you to the hilt again. Your thighs were tensing up as Miguel kept going, fire building as you grabbed his hair and jerked your hips in time with his movements. 

Your climax comes in waves, your hands tighter in his hair and an arch in your back. When you clench over his tongue and your release hits his mouth, Miguel’s eyes start to roll and he’s rubbing his nose against your clit. You yell even louder as Miguel pushes his face incredibly deep into your pussy. He’s rutting into the bed at the sound of your voice, moaning with you. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The captain swore that the VIP suite was soundproof, but your voice was practically carrying across the yacht. 

“She’s getting it good! Just like I promised,” Dana smiles to herself. 

“What did you promise? I was the one that gave Miguel tips.” Gabriel moved his headphones aside. 

“Oh yeah? And what tips did you give him?” She had her eyebrow raised and a silly smirk on her face. 

There was a pause of silence between them, only your voice filling up the space occasionally. Gabriel stared at Dana with a goofy grin.

He reached over and connected his phone to his speaker, putting on his special playlist. “Want to find out?”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

GymRat!Miguel who has to be pulled off your sex with both of your hands. His eyes are glazed over and his chin is soaked. Every chance you came after the first two times, your body would move up the bed and Miguel was sure to follow. 

“Ok, ok, baby,” you heave. Your legs are spasming, a result of the position and Miguel’s willingness to have you cum over and over again.

You were tapping out, body sore and tired. 

Miguel left a final long kiss to your clit, a trail of essence following his lips. He kissed up one of your thighs with a hungry look still in his eyes.

“¿Lo hice bien, cariño?” (Did I do it well, baby/darling?)

You trembled at his touch, limbs still heavy and mind in the clouds. 

Still, this was the best you’ve felt in a while.

You open your mouth to whisper, “Lo hiciste muy bien.” (You did so good.)

GymRat!Miguel who has to calm down internally at your answer. You don’t talk to him in Spanish often, but when you do, he’s over the moon. 

GymRat!Miguel who carries you to the bathroom to clean you off.

“Baby, I can’t walk. You’ll have to carry me for the rest of your life.”

“I’m totally fine with that.”

GymRat!Miguel who shocks you when he says that you don’t need to worry about bringing him relief. 

“Amor, I came when you came. After that, it was really all about you.”

“Oh!”

GymRat!Miguel who pats his past self on the back for asking the crew for extra sheets. He had no clue how the evening would go, but something in him told him to be overprepared. 

Those old sheets were beyond ruined. 

GymRat!Miguel who rubs your legs and stomach with aloe vera lotion after the shower. Not only did he stretch you a little further than you’re used to, but his bite marks left a big impression. 

GymRat!Miguel who cuddles you to sleep. If you wore him out the other night, he definitely put you through the ringer. You were gone after three rubs to your back. 

GymRat!Miguel who wakes up early with you to send off all of your friends. You’re yawning constantly, tears sticking to the corners of your eyes.

“Someone had a time last night,” Hobie snickers as he walks past with his backpack. 

“Shut up, Hobie,” you say, already flustered. 

“What? It’s true! If I didn’t know Migs' name before, I sure do now.”

“I’m going to backflip off of this boat.”

GymRat!Miguel who grants Captain Barrett a goodbye, thanking him for letting them use his boat.

“It was a pleasure to host you, Miguel. If you and your girlfriend ever need to, my superyacht is available for any future formal events!” he elbows Miguel with a giant grin, curled mustache moving like it was paid to do so. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, Cap.”

For Miguel, the man with the plan, he would grant Mission A: Eat You Out, a huge success and the start of the summer one to remember.

divider by: @iwonbin 🩵

Part 9.1 here!

a/n: And with that, the yacht chapter is finished! I hope you guys enjoyed it and got your life. 🤭 It was both challenging and rewarding to write this GIANT chapter. I hope that you guys have fun with it like I did! I have no idea how the next chapter OR Miguel's Mission B: Virgin No More plan will go, but!!! Hopefully, it will be pleasant regardless! 🤠

ALSO! I have decided to give this drabble that's basically a fic a proper name (mostly for AO3). Do you all have any suggestions?

As always, like, comment, and reblog. Let me know how you feel! 🩵

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[lolita-lollipop]

heyy! i just binged some of your avatar works and im so in love 🥹🫶

could i request a neteyam x reader where she goes with the Sully's to the metkayinas and there she is harrassed like Kiri and the Sully boys come to her rescue? like including neteyam, lo'ak and jake 🥺💟

it's totally fine if you don't wanna write it, no pressure 💝

have a lovely dayyyyy ❤️

NETEYAM X READER X SULLY FAMILY (platonic)

When neteyam had first told you about the sully family leaving, that they were being hunted, including you,  it came as such a shock, you'd known Neytiri all your life, and you'd also known that the goddess of a woman loved this land more than she loved her ikran. You were even further surprised when you learned that jake wanted you to come.

You were there when those Human-NAvi breeds had interrogated Lo-ak , those men yanked your hair and held you up like you were a slab of meat. That was when it all started, with a knife pressed to your throat, and spider being taken away, you knew something big was going to happen. 

You belonged to this family since you were very young, being that your own parents were killed off by the sky people, leaving you as a child with mo-at. Jake took you under his wing, after all, You were only a year younger than neteyam, so they couldn't turn you away. Eventually, sensing the strong relationship between you and their oldest son, you were declared his promised mate. 

Even so, you never truly felt like a part of the family, Jake and Neytiri tried their hardest, but often times you outcasted yourself, trying to prove yourself, trying to show them that they shouldn't regret taking you in. It didnt help that as you grew up, you and their oldest son developed some kind of complicated relationship, something neither of you could explain fully. 

So, even though you loved this land, loved your home, with all of your heart, you left. The clan leadership was passed along to another family, and you all packed up your things, boarded your ikrans, and left. The ride was long, and hard, you didn't dare look back at the forest once you crossed the shoreline, fearing that homesickness would overcome you. 

---

When you arrived at the metkayina tribe's village, you, along with the entire family, were greeted with a not-so-warm welcome, hostility was laced in every word they said. A woman, clearly pregnant, circled around your family, eyeing all of you down. You unknowingly caught the attention of the only son of the metkayina clan leader. 

“Why have you come upon our land? Forest people belong in the forest” she spoke, hissing out the words, and locking eyes with neytiri. boys behind you grabbed at your tail and arms, yanking you about, commenting on how skinny, how frail it was. Neteyam stepped behind you and wrapped an arm around your waist, shooting a look to the greenish-blue boys. 

“We are seeking refuge, and can't stay with the omaticaya clan.” Your father interjected, stepping in front of Neytiri, who was already hissing at the woman for touching tuk. For touching her. Obviously, you all were desperate, the different clans never mixed. 

“Your arms are skinny, along with your tails, you will move very slow in the water. And you have no knowledge of our ways, you all will be like babies.” She grabbed Neytiri's tail, and yanked. You willed yourself not to go forward and push her off. You were just so scared, and so tired, if they didn't accept you, then you would have no where else to go. You clutched neteyams hand tight, just trying to relieve any of the anxiety you had with his presence. 

“We can learn your ways, please. I’m just trying to protect my family.” Jake begged, locking eyes with you for a split second, then with the woman again, they held gazes for a few ominous moments. You stood in the back, wanting to cave in on yourself like a crab. 

“It is settled, my children will give theirs lessons on our ways, and we will give them a home, treat them like your brothers and sisters.”

---

It was rough at first, having to abandon all of your traditions, the way you ate, the way you lived, the way you breathed. But as days passed, you got used to it, proving yourself to be a quick learner, catching on to the way of water fairly quickly. You werent as good as tsireya or anuong of course, But you were certainly ahead of lo-ak.

Once the anxiety of moving left you, you were finally able to appreciate the world around. All the unfamiliar excitements that came with a new home. The water that filled your home, the fish, the sand, the plants, the corals, everything was so… beautiful. That was the only word you could use to describe it.

 Often you wished to live under the sea, be part of ey-wa, you grew to be absolutely fascinated with it.  How the ocean could be full of peace, or rage, how it could be as beautiful as it was terrifying. You didn't think that you'd ever been this content before, in a place that you loved, with the people you loved.  

But, there's always a yin to a yang. And for you, that happened to be the children of the clan leaders. Tsireya was kind, and so bubbly, the two of you got along very well, even being able to call yourself somewhat best friends, you would giggle about the sully boys being idiots or gossip about the village and it's people. 

But… anuong and roxto? They were much less than happy to help you and your family, anuong believed that forest people belonged in the forest (like mother like son), and  as roxto idolized his older brother, so did he. While anuong did harbor some strange feeling for you, which made him cut back on his teasing for you (and only you), he still made it a living hell for neteyam, and lo-ak, and kiri. 

They poked fun at the skinniness of your people's arms and legs and tails, bullying lo-ak for having a hard time, at kiri for being a strange girl, and especially at neteyam, just for having you. 

And you. Anuong couldn't find an ounce of reasoning why, but he hated you, because he couldn't stop liking you. Which resulted in only the most loving teasing and bullying from him  and his goonds. You couldn't tell the difference.

They always knew where to find you most of the time, with your head buried in the sand, or sitting on top of corral with a turtle, or picking seaweed for no reason at all. You had the strangest habits.

Like now, you floated on top of the shallow water, a few seashells sunbathing on your back, your hands stuck in the sand below. You didn't even notice the three boys coming up close, commenting on what the hell you thought you were doing. 

“She's looking at the sand! What kind of freak are you?” one of the boys yelled above the water, pulling your tail up, that you did hear. Your head perked up from under the water, and you kicked his hand away from you. Wiping your eyes, you let out a soft

“Huh?” confusion laced through your tone, you stared at the three, anuong stood in the middle, looking strangely meek, while the one pulling at your tail giggled at your “idiocy”, the sight of them towering over you explained enough, and brought fear to you. 

“Huh?” roxto mocked, splaying his hands out “I said- What kind of freak, are. You. “ he repeated, and as you stood up he got close to your face, and placed a hand on your shoulder, sticking his tongue out and hissing. You cowered back, and shrugged his hand off. 

“I’m not a freak.” you spoke, and began walking towards the village and shore, hoping you could lose them, or they would just give up. They didn't, and instead followed you, tugging at your braids, and your tail. 

“Are you sure, looking at stones, playing with fish. Freak.” anuong was the one this time to speak up, pointing at the little pile of seaweed and seashells on the shoreline. He leaned over, and hissed the word in your face, you were on the verge of tears at this point . Footsteps behind him were swift and soft as they came closer. 

“Back off man, leave her alone” Lo-ak smacked him across the back of his head, coming up in front of you to  serve as a barrier from anuong. He'd known that you weren't the most normal person, but it still pissed him off to no end that people like anuong could walk all over you. 

“Awwww, does the freak need her little brother to come and save her?”The boys around teased and pulled on lo-ak, grabbing at his “baby” tail and poking fun at him, lo-ak was dumb, you'd known this since he was young, he was reckless, and didnt think. But, his recklessness made him strong. But also gets him into situations like this. Where the two of you end up in an equal amount of trouble, tears threatening to spill from your eyes , and lo-akabout to set somebody on fire. 

You automatically felt safer seeing neteyam rise frm the ocean waves, clearly hearing the commotion on the beach, he had been out here with you and lo-ak, but the three of you separated for a short moment. Of course anuong had to start something when he wasnt there to protect you. 

“He said, leave her alone” Your mate shoved roxto back from you and set a hand on your shoulder, anuong raised a brow, but hushed his friend when he began mocking you for needing neteyam to come and save you too. The man you loved  locked eyes with you and grabbed your hand, clearly trying to rub it in anuongs face that you were his. Then, he walked, and lo-ak followed. 

“Demon blooded freaks, all of them. You don't belong here.” Anuong hissed, eyes narrowing at the three of you beginning to walk away. You held onto lo-ak, knowing that the remark would set him off the edge further, trying to pull him back when he turned around. He just shook your hand off, and hurried over to anuong. 

You didnt even care to listen to what Lo-ak was saying, knowing damn well that it would just end with him throwing punches, you were proved right when neteyam left a small kiss on your forehead, and sprinted over to jump into the mix. They yanked tails, and ears, and eventually, you sat in the sand and watched, laughing when they wined. 

When both sides had tired out, and anuong and his little trio had run away, neteyam and lo-ak returned, you already had your lecture prepared, which was just a soft version of what Jake and Neytiri would say. 

“What happened to not causing a ruckus? Dad is  going to kill you.”

“I Wouldn't let them talk to you like that, my y/n, not ever.”

---

You listened to Your father as he talked to the two boys, which turned out to be a lecture exactly as you had predicted, a-lot of yelling and “yes-sir’s”, you were praying to ey-wa that netetayam wouldnt take the blame again as he usually did, knowing that it would only make things worse. But as usual, he did the exact opposite of what you needed, 

“It was my fault, I started the fight. They called y/n a freak,

 told her she was strange.” He spoke, which only made jake angrier that his boys couldn't control themselves. Although he couldnt really blame neteyam, you were his mate, of course, the two of you hadn't completed the ritual, but you were head over heels for each other. Jake would certainly fight a metkayina boy for Neytiri. Anyday. By the end of the lecture, both lo-ak and neteyam were exhausted. 

“Go apologize, he's the clan leader's son, make it count.” lo-ak huffed at that but still walked out, you did feel bad for him, you always did. But there was nothing you could do to change your dad's mind about this. He would just have to do it. When neteyam began to leave the hut, you started sitting up to go talk to him, not before your father could stop him though. 

“Wait, neteyam. How did those other guys look?” 

“Worse.” 

“Good, thats good.”

You laughed. 

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

*extra*

Later that day, when the eclipse darkened the sea, the entire family was all inside, eating dinner and talking about their days. You stayed outside, preferring to watch the fish swim at your feet. You weren't upset, per se, just mildly off-put. You didn't think that anoung hated you THAT much. You did notice the loud footsteps behind you on the wooden peer, clearly belonging to your dad, but you didn't say anything. When he sat next to you, and you lay down with your head in his lap. 

“I heard about what happened today, did they hurt you? I'll beat them myself if they did” He threatened, a way-too serious look on his face for him to be joking. You let out a chuckle nonetheless, letting his hand place itself on the center of your back. 

“No. They just made fun of me.” your voice was hushed, and it was apparent you were at least a little embarrassed by the incident. You didn't think you were a freak, you didn't know as much about this place as the natives did, so you were obviously excited about everything. That's the only reason you liked to collect the seaweed or look at the sand. You let out a sigh. 

“Babygirl?” He spoke, beginning to rub circles into your back in a comforting motion.

“Yeah?” You were relaxed now, being in the arms of the only real father figure you've ever known. You swished your hand in the water  below, watching the glowing little guppies follow it around.

“If one of them boys ever speaks to you like that again, punch them so hard in the nose that they won't be able  breathe for a week.” He threatened, making a fist with his free hand and motioning a punch. You just stared up at him and snickered at how serious he was. 

“Okay, i’ll make sure to do that next time” you laughed at the thought of you even remotely trying to fight, you were good with arrows, knives,  and medicines, but not fists. 

“And if you don't want to, call me, or lo-ak, or even better, 

Neteyam” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------wrote this at 5AM this morning with no sleep, so the grammar is probably not the best quality, however. ireallylikethisfic and I hope yall do too.

Anyway, thank you so much for requesting, I really REALLY enjoyed writing this, it kinda follows similar scenes in the movie and I really like writing like that.

ALSO, thank you for reading:) Have a great day, bye!

[rinhaler]

I Should Just Walk Away !

His knuckles are split, what are you meant to do? Not tend his wounds? Someone’s gotta do it! It doesn’t mean you’re going to fuck him again. No way.

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ underground fighter!ryomen sukuna x f!reader

Genre: porn with a plot (and a sprinkle of angst?) Notes: I'm gonna make a masterlist and stuff bc I love this au but I'm lazy pls bear with me! ♡ Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, blood ♡, wound care, daddy!kink, size difference ♡, age gap, degradation, fingering, tit sucking ♡, slight edging?, dacryphilia, m+f masturbation, car sex ♡, vaginal sex, creampie ♡, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, kid), mutual pining ♡, angst??, calls ur pussy she/her ♡, (lmk if i missed any!!) Words: 8k

—

Even after proclamations of love for each other, the rest of the ride home is silent and uncomfortable. In hindsight, it might not have been the best decision to divulge the truth of your tryst with Sukuna to your little brother.

You could try to reassure him. But what would be the point? You’re only a few years older than him, yet somehow, you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a teenager. When you were Megumi’s age, though, you had parents.

They were alive.

Sure, you were somewhat rebellious but you behaved for the most part. You studied, worked hard, steered clear of ‘bad’ boys. And, as Sukuna so elegantly put it, you’re a ‘snooty doctor’. You’re thankful for that, because without that salary you’d never be able to afford subsidising your brother.

You had your parents.

But you’re all Megumi has.

It’s a little unsettling how quiet he’s actually being. You were bickering not too long ago, you’re taken aback that he seems to have no desire to continue. A fleeting thought that he might be trying to punish you enters your mind.

Your head snaps a few times to look at him, though he doesn’t do the same. There’s a little grimace on his face as he looks at you from the corner of his eyes.

It’s disgust.

“Are we okay?” you wonder, and the way it leaves your lips in a warble must be pathetic for your brother to hear. He scoffs immediately after, still outright refusing to say another word. You make sure to keep an eye on the road, though your gaze can’t help but wander towards your sibling when you get a chance. “I’m just going to make sure he’s patched up properly, okay? He’s not staying the night.”

“As if that matters.” he rolls his eyes.

It should matter. You don’t know what he means, and you don’t dare ask him to elaborate. There’s no reason for you to be scared of a seventeen-year-old. You aren’t. You’re more afraid of disappointing him.

“Megumi…” you take a breath. “It’s late. I think we should talk properly tomorrow.”

He takes a breath not too dissimilar to yours, you aren’t sure if it’s inherited or if it’s a habit he’s picked up from you. Is he mocking you? He doesn’t say much more, shrugging his shoulders is an answer all on its own. And still, it makes your heart twist as anxiety pierces through it like a stake.

“Fine.”

“Really?!” you bark out unintentionally. Maybe he’s more mature than you’ve given him credit for, because agreeing to talk properly is the last thing you expected. Your eyebrows knot briefly, and you look at him again when you reach a red light. “Are you fucking with me? You’re not serious, are you? You’re gonna sneak out in the morning and I won’t see you until—”

“I said fine. Didn’t I?” he grunts. “At least be quiet when you fuck him if you insist on lecturing me in the morning.”

“I’m not doing it again, I told you.” you assure him. “It was a stupid mistake and I regret it but I just wanna make sure his hand is okay. And then I’ll tell him to leave. I promise.”

“Should prob’ly tell him that, ‘cause he won’t stick around once he realises.” you both find yourselves looking in the rearview mirror at the man following behind you at a distance before quickly averting your eyes. “Don’t make promises you’re not gonna keep. You sound like my dad.”

“Ouch, babe. Noted.” you laugh a little despite being genuinely offended.

The rest of the journey is completed with your brain on auto-pilot. You aren’t even sure how you made it home without crashing once you realise you’ve parked perfectly in the driveway.

Megumi snatches your purse and ducks out of the car, making a beeline for the front door. You watch him as you allow your head to gently thud against the headrest behind you; he’s frantically looking for the house keys so he can shield himself from any possible sighting of you and his boss together.

He drops your purse on the ground with little care once he finds what he’s looking for, and you’re startled when you hear a knuckle lightly rap against your window.

“Nice place, princess.” he speaks, though it’s slightly muffled by the closed window.

“Stop calling me—”

“Oi. Pick up the purse.” Sukuna warns your little brother before he can hide indoors.

He looks over his shoulder at you both before slowly crouching down to pick it up. He grips it tight before finally disappearing.

Sukuna gives you room to breathe before offering a hand to help you out. Like you’ve never gotten out of your car before. Instead of taking it, you stare. You stare at his obscenely large hand and can’t help but remember his fingers had been inside of you mere moments ago.

You smile, as politely as you can, before hurriedly chasing after your brother.

He saunters after you with a lazy smirk playing on his features. You only see it when you remember you’d forgotten to lock your car. The sound of his Mercedes locking is a deafening reminder.

You enter your home; he hadn’t even bothered to turn a single light on as he charged straight towards the kitchen. You’d expected him to have locked himself in his bedroom by now. But instead, his silhouette is illuminated by the light emanating from the open fridge.

He grunts when you switch on the living room light, looking at you like a raccoon caught going through the trash as he chomps down on the cereal you’d bought on the way home from work.

“Can you get the first aid kit from the cupboard?” you ask him as you take off your coat and throw it down over the back of the couch. “You shouldn’t be eating so late, y’know.”

“I’m starving. I didn’t eat today, ‘m a growing boy, y’know.” he counters. He moves to look through each and every cupboard. He looks at you and shrugs before continuing to eat.

Your eyes are both directed to the sound of a gently closing door. You half smile at Sukuna as he enters before you look at your brother again in contemplation.

“Oh I moved it to the bathroom ‘cause we never use it.” you sigh as you make your way there. “You can finish eating in your room if you want.”

“Tryna get me out the way?” he rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, I don’t wanna stick around here anyway.” he side eyes Sukuna as he walks with his bowl towards his room.

You don’t see the amused grin he offers your little brother while you retrieve the first aid kit.

If you had, you’re sure you would have sent him home too.

“Sorry,” you groan, setting the kit down on the coffee table. You stand with your hands on your hips as you stare at him. It’s dawning on you, now, regardless of how exhausted you are. You’ve let a man you barely know into your home. A man older and stronger than you’d ever hope to be. You’ve welcomed a criminal into the space that is meant to be the safest for your little brother.

“I’m not gonna kill ya, sweetheart.” he cuts through your thoughts as if he can read your mind. It makes your heart race, though your face remains stoic as you try and disguise your evident worry. “Last thing I wanna do is scare you, though. I’ll go if you’re—”

“No, it’s fine.” you interject. “I’m tired, though. I’m gonna get changed because I wanna go straight to sleep after this, okay? You’re not staying.”

“Shame, I had fun.” he grins, circling the couch before sinking into it. His body is angled towards you while his eye looks you up and down with purpose. “Get comfy, I’ll be right here waiting for you, darlin’.”

Even someone as headstrong as you can’t deny how giddy he makes you. You walk backwards, unable to take your eyes off him before you eventually find your bedroom. Everything he says is so intentional, it’s almost vindictive. Like he knows just what to say to have you weak at the knees for him.

But this isn’t you.

You’ve never been the type to fall for a man’s alleged charm quite so easily. But you also didn’t think you were the type of person to fuck a stranger. He isn’t exactly a stranger, though.

He’s Megumi’s boss.

“Stop calling him that.” you whisper to yourself as you try and break yourself out of your spiralling train of thought.

You dress yourself in the most unflattering pyjamas you can find, wearing them with the full expectation of turning Sukuna off of you. He can’t possibly still be angling to fuck again when he sees you in mismatched pyjamas, complete with aged holes and stains from that one spaghetti night you and Megumi attempted.

There’s a feeble attempt made at wiping your makeup off, although you barely try. Your smile is almost blinding as you look at what a mess you are. The panda eyes from your smeared eyeliner and mascara enhance your sunken eyebags. Your eyeshadow glitters across the bridge of your nose and into your hairline beside your temples. Your pretty lipstick that you’d lined so perfectly is half removed while the other half is smudged down your chin.

You emerge from your bedroom with a confidence you only ever experience when you’re at home in your comfiest clothes. Despite your appearance, and even despite your company, you’re so content.

His eyes squint as he looks at your face, and even still, he’s smiling. He chuckles softly as you get closer to him, sitting beside him as you open the first aid kit.

“You look way prettier like this, princess.” he tells you, folding his arms across his chest as he continues to stare.

“Ah! Really? You think I look prettier?” you ask sarcastically.

“No, you look awful.” he laughs. “Is this all for my benefit? I still want to fuck you, admirable attempt though.”

You shake your head and roll your eyes as he laughs a little more, and you force yourself to frown when you realise his laughter is contagious. Everything he does is so effortless; you can’t remember the last time you genuinely smiled so hard it hurt your cheeks.

His eye fixates on you as you begin to look through your little first aid kit and pick a few things to use on his knuckles.

“I’m sure you could have done this yourself,” you start as you pick up a packet of antiseptic wipes and begin to clear the blood surrounding his knuckles. “Could have gone to a walk-in place if you were really worried.”

“Of course I could. Been doing this for years, did you really believe I don’t have my own first aid kit?” he asks. “I wanted you to do it.” he confesses, though he’s no longer smiling. You don’t stop wiping away the combination of wet and crusted over blood on his hand, though you can’t help but stare back at him.

Is he trying to scare you?

“You’re unbelievable.” you tell him, quietly.

“It’s hard to do it with one hand, sweetheart. And you’re a professional, I’d have to be an idiot to do it myself.”

You look away, only to pour rubbing alcohol onto a clean wipe. He can’t help but be transfixed as he watches you, admiring how your dainty little hands are so delicate with the equipment. How your face appears so irritated as you perform tedious tasks such as this, but you do it regardless, and he thinks it’s sweet.

“You should be on my payroll,” he finally smiles again. “My private doctor.”

“No.” you shut him down.

“I forgot how stuck up you are. I thought you’d at least be fununtil tomorrow.”

“Be grateful I’m doing this at all.” you reply with ease. All enjoyment and giddiness over his company seems to be a distant memory as you recall the type of man he actually is. You’re grouchy and exhausted, and he’s testing your patience. “I don’t like you and I don’t like what you do. And I hate that you’re involving Megumi.”

“Lighten. Up.” he warns you.

You press the wipe quickly into his cuts, and you can’t help but smile as he winces from the abrupt stinging pain. You laugh harder as he tries to downplay it. His expression becomes unreadable as he tries to appear detached. You can see it in his visible eye, though. It’s watering.

He can’t help but break at the sound of your laughter, however, as you continue to snicker whilst rummaging through for a roll of gauze to wrap around his knuckles.

“I usually don’t crack when I do that myself. You wanted it to hurt.” he smirks, shaking his head.

“Guilty.” you continue to giggle as you face him again.

He doesn’t say another word as he watches you wrap a thick enough layer of bandages around his bloody knuckles. The somewhat shallow lacerations seem to cause slight discomfort despite being taken care of. You watch him, purposefully, as he flexes his fingers a few times to test how it feels.

You aren’t sure if he knows you’re staring, but his guard seems down. It could be an act to disarm you, but you aren’t convinced he’s a good enough actor to pull it off. The genuine curiosity and intrigue on his face due to your handiwork makes you feel off. Is he judging your ability to provide proper care?

It’s not like you wanted to.

But you both know that’s a lie.

He grins when he finally notices you staring at him. And that makes you relax. You were right, he was genuinely lost in thought despite being in your presence.

“You should go now,” you say quietly. You angle your body to rest your arm over the back of the couch, your balled fist supporting your head as you begin to yawn. “I’m tired.”

“Sure.” he nods, moving to stand before relaxing into the soft seating. “I need your number.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, ya need to give it to me sweetheart,” he smirks, mirroring your body language. “Need it so I can tell you when I wanna see you again.”

You scoff, shaking your head defiantly at his bold claim. The thought of him clicking his fingers for you to come running like a loyal lap dog is almost enough to make you gag. You’d slap him if it wasn’t so late, you’re too tired and you don’t want to cause a fuss for Megumi or your neighbours.

“You’re never gonna see me again,” you smile, biting your lip as you look him up and down. “And you’re not seeing Megumi, either. He’s done with your little fight club. And I’m done with you, period.”

“Aren’t you meant to be smart? Concerning that a doctor could be so naïve.” he squints slightly as he regards you, looking you up and down as you had him. You’re so sure of yourself, he can’t help but wonder if you’ve forgotten about your current appearance. “I’ll be seein’ you both again. Megumi isn’t quitting. And I like you, and I’m not the type of man to give up things I like.”

“Tough shit,” you laugh lightly. “You’re gonna have to find another poor woman to pester. I’ve got enough going on without dealing with a loser like you.”

“A loser? Really?” he chortles. “You were moaning on my dick and calling me daddy earlier. Now I’m a loser?”

“Shut up.”

He leans in close to you, noses almost touching and his smile widens further as he sees how glittery your face is from your poor makeup removal. “Are you only going to be nice to me when I fuck that brat out of you?”

You turn your head away, your heart racing as your body betrays you. The want and desire bubbles in the pit of your stomach. But you can’t. You know you can’t; because you promised.

He isn’t special.

Sukuna is not special.

“You’re not fucking anything out of me.” you tell him, peering out of the corner of your eye to see him look a little surprised at your declaration. He thought you were playing hard to get. You aren’t playing. “It was a one-time thing.”

“Really?” he asks, barely missing a beat as he responds. “I don’t understand you. I thought—”

“Of course you don’t understand me. You’ve known me for a few hours. Just because we’ve fucked doesn’t mean you know me.” you remind him. And he nods, he agrees with you. He’d be a fool not to, and the man is no fool. “It was just a heat of the moment mistake. I mean it. I don’t want to see you again and I’m not letting Megumi fight anymore.”

“Why?”

“Why?” you scoff. “He’s a child. It’s dangerous. I don’t want him—”

“No, sweetheart. I’m not stupid, I know why you don’t want him to fight anymore. Do I look like a moron to you?” he asks, voice gruff and harsh as he interrupts without a care. His temper is visible and rising as he begins to run out of patience for your attitude with him. “Why don’t you want to see me?”

“Because you’re shady and I don’t want to upset my brother. He’s already upset, I don’t want to make it worse.”

“That’s not a reason.”

“Excuse m—”

“That’s a reason why Megumi doesn’t want you to see me. Yeah I’m a little shady, but you like me. I know you do. Otherwise you wouldn’t have let me come over here, see where and how you live, and tend my wounds like a good girl.” he sneers.

“Fine. I don’t like you and I don’t want to have a platonic relationship with a criminal. Let alone a romantic one. What happened earlier was a mistake.”

“… You’re lying.” he says, and it’s curt. You cross your arms over your chest and shake your head with an amused laugh as you digest his denial. How he can sit there and act so full of himself when you’re being perfectly clear is beyond you. It’s jarring.

You jolt as you feel thick fingers lightly grip your jaw. Your wandering gaze is now brought to him. Your eyes forced to fixate on the placid expression plastered across chiselled features.

“I see you, princess. You don’t wanna see me because you want to get mixed up with a criminal, and you’re scared of that. I see you.”

You stare at him, licking your lips not so discreetly as he continues to cradle your jaw. His lips curl at the sight of the little pink muscle slipping between your lips to wet them. You’re angry. Furious at yourself for letting him touch you, hold you, like this. And you hate yourself, right now. Maybe even more than you hate him, too.

Because he’s right.

Your lack of action gives him cause to stare down at your shimmering lips, it’s a warning. A silent announcement for what he’s about to do. He doesn’t let go, but his head tilts. He leans in closer to you, daring to give you what you both know you want.

And again, he’s thwarted.

You turn away, unable to look at him right after this time.

“… You should go, now.” you tell him.

He sighs, but pulls away. You almost mewl as his thumb softly swipes across your chin. And when he withdraws it, you feel your body fill with loneliness. Your skin feels colder.

And it hurts, because he’s on the right track. You’re pushing him away because of Megumi. But deep down, as much as you crave him right now, you know it’s the right thing to do. You jolt a little as he abruptly stands up from the couch, the breeze from his movement makes you freeze.

He sees it.

“Go to bed, you’ll warm up.” he says bluntly before making his way towards the front door. He stops as he grabs the handle, holding up his bloodied knuckles. “Thank you, for the first aid.”

“It’s… it’s fine. No problem. Goodnight, S-Sukuna.” you say, cursing yourself for the audible whine in your words despite your attempted conviction. You watch him as he grabs the handle before turning to face you again.

“Come with me.” he tells you, curling the tip of his index finger. “I need to give you something, don’t argue. For once.” he demands.

You’re compelled to follow, in spite of his demeaning way of summoning you. You truly don’t want him to leave, you don’t want him to go, so any extra time you can spend with him, you’ll take.

He walks ahead of you, leaving you shivering in the doorway as you try and preserve any warmth you can. He opens the door to his car and turns around, a little bewildered that you aren’t right behind him. It makes you giggle to see him look around in search of you before he finally spots you still at the front door.

“Come here.”

You close the door and rush to his side, quickly looking back to make sure Megumi isn’t looking for you. He rests his arm atop the roof of his Mercedes, before holding out a small piece of paper between his fingers to you.

It’s a business card.

“What kind of thug needs a business card?” you ask before you even think about what you’re saying. He scoffs, squinting at you.

“You’ve only fucked me once, you don’t know me.” he smirks. And at that, you can’t help but laugh. “What you said… makes it seem like we’ll learn more about each other if we keep fucking.”

“I don’t want to know you, Sukuna.” you sigh, reluctant to keep up the charade. Reluctant to keep pretending he doesn’t excite you. To keep pretending the few hours you’ve spent with him haven’t been the liveliest your life has been in years. Maybe ever, really. “I can’t be selfish, you don’t get it.”

“You’d be surprised.” he says, abruptly. “Why did you follow me out here if you don’t want to know me?”

“Because you asked me to, you said you wanted to give me something…”

“You could have said no. Do you always do what people tell you? You wanted to. I wanted you to. And now you’re here, you have my number. If you want to be selfish… you know where I am.”

“I don’t—” you sigh, shivering aggressively before you push his card back into his chest. “I don’t need this.”

He grabs your wrist hellbent on sending you away with this one little piece of the puzzle of his life. A way to talk to him again if you change your mind. He’s giving you access, he wants you to take it, desperately.

He crouches down, levelling his head with your own so his one, uncovered eye is levelled with yours. He can’t help but smile, it’s almost maniacal, as he watches your resolve falter under his glare.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good, kid.” he grins. “And you’re not all that smart, for a doctor.”

Your face burns with heat. And you can’t tell if it’s rage or lust. Do you want to kiss him or kill him? You don’t know, you don’t know. His smile grows wider as he realises what he’s done to you. Your faces are so close to each other and this time you can’t will yourself to turn away. You can’t submit, not after this.

“I’m smarter than you.” is all you can think to say. It feels pathetic and phoned in. And he reads it, too, by the ever-growing look of amusement on his face.

“I don’t doubt that.” he nods. “What’s got you all hot ‘n bothered, hm? ‘Cause I called you a dumb li’l doctor? Or ‘cause daddy, called you kid?”

You feel your face sear further. So much so you can even detect each and every drop of sweat beading at your hairline. You’d forgotten it was freezing outside, instead trying to find a way to subtly cool yourself.

“You d-didn’t even call me dumb. I’m not.” you say, stuttering over yourself like a true idiot as you try and gain some semblance of composure through this agonising conversation.

He closes the already small distance between you, placing his hand on the small of your back and pulling you towards him. Your eyes flutter closed under his as he examines you. His head tilting and turning, forcing himself in your line of view.

“I am learning more about you. Should we fuck about it, sweetheart?”

“What are you—”

“Do I remind you of your old man, hah? I bet that’s it… was daddy never proud of you?” he chuckles darkly, carding his fingers through your hair as he stares down at you. “S’that why you like me, darlin?”

“Shut up.” you respond, voice meek and pathetic as you wrestle with your will and want. His fingers lace through your hair, delicately holding the crown of your head before you find yourself being pulled closer still. His lips ghost yours, and he’s a tease. He’s such a fucking tease.

“Got a thing for older guys who talk to you like shit… I see it. Get too much respect at your little doctor job all day. Do you like being talked down to, hm? No wonder you like a thug like me.”

“You don’t know what you’re— You d-don’t even know.”

“Yeah? I don’t?” he asks, his tone melodious and teasing. His head tilts back, the feel of his lips intensely teasing yours soon broken as he does. But you look up to him, eyes full of anguish and sorrow like a kicked puppy who doesn’t know what it wants. You hate him and the reason is clear.

You don’t hate him at all.

You just hate that he’s right.

“I think I’m right. I think you’ve got daddy issues, and you like it when I call you kid.” you turn away as he speaks. But almost as quickly as you do, he’s forcing you to look at him again. His ruby eye flaring, an expression all of its own. A warning, a look of command. A look of lust. “Am I right, baby? Is your little cunt soaked ‘cause I call you kid?”

“… I have to go.” you say, quietly.

“Sure.” he smirks.

A sense of déjà vu overwhelms you as you recognise in his smile that you’ve done this dance before. You can’t move and you can’t speak. There is no desire in you to leave him now and return to your home, your bed, like you should.

All you can do is stare. Your eyes fixated on the man who has just read you like a book. His amused expression doesn’t falter. He’s patient, surprisingly. You wouldn’t have painted him as a man with patience. But looking at him now, you know he’d be willing to wait all night if he had to. He’d wait for the sun to rise just to prove a point.

But he doesn’t need to.

You lunge forward, your hand cupping his face as you break the boiling tension between you and seal your acceptance with a scalding kiss.

He won.

He told you before, he doesn’t lose.

Your lips suctioning and pecking at his would make you embarrassed if you weren’t so desperate. He welcomes it, too, meeting yours with just as much urgency. He wraps his arms around your back as you slip your tongue between his lips, allowing them to tangle and swirl in a passionate encounter.

He chuckles into it as you curse. Curse him, curse his name. You can’t believe he’s reduced you to this, again. Your heart heaves in your chest, and you break away just to instruct him.

“Open the fucking back door.”

He laughs again, keeping hold of you as he guides you in a way he can carry on kissing you and still do as he’s told. He ducks in first, pulling you in with him right after. You grind your hips against his heavy bulge as he closes the door after you. He looks up to admire you, to adore you.

“You smeared your makeup like a fucking idiot so I wouldn’t fuck you,” he laughs. “And look at you, humping my cock like a desperate little pet.”

“Shiiiit, I forgot I’m a mess.” you sigh, though you don’t really care. You wrap your arms around his neck, keening as his heavy palms grip your thighs press you flush against his body. “This is the last time. I m-mean it.”

“Whatever you say, princess.” he says, smugly.

You dismiss it, too enamoured by the feeling of his bulge alone as you continue to grind down hard and purposefully onto him. He’s relaxed, allowing you to take the lead and go at your own pace.

It’s embarrassing, really, you’re not as experienced as he seems to be. He’s older. And you hate to admit it, wiser. When it comes to encounters such as this, anyway. You’re smart and well read, sure, but casual hook ups are foreign to you.

You’ll keep that to yourself for as long as you can, you can’t think of anything worse than giving Sukuna that little tidbit of information about you. That he is only the third guy you’ve fucked.

He hit the nail on the head back at the club, but you can’t let him know that.

“Let me feel.” he mutters. His hand holds your hip to keep you in place. Another snakes down into your sleep shorts, his mouth falls open with an amused chuckle as he touches you. “Still full’a me, baby. Bet I’ll slide right in.”

His fingers play with your pussy without any real goal. And still, it makes you delirious. He smears the evidence of your previous tryst around your folds, and he watches with conviction as his fingers circle your clit.

He withdraws them, briefly, to move your shorts into the crease of your thigh. You watch him, and he doesn’t take his eye off you, either. Your lower lip droops as you admire him. Truthfully, you’ve never been in the presence of someone so domineering as him. He is the true definition of a red-blooded male.

Sukuna is huge. In the literal sense, he is unnaturally tall. His build is enormous, his hand is larger than your face. But his aura alone is enough to fill an entire room with an ambience that he sees fit. He could instil fear into the minds of men just because he wills it.

Unfortunately for you, you are not immune to his will.

“You’re so pent up darlin’, you must work hard. Y’need to relax… no wonder you can’t keep your hands off me.” he says. It could be read as demeaning. You think it should be. And yet, you don’t detect any malice from him. He makes a show of spitting on his fingers, keeping eye contact with you as the ‘ptuh’ sound leaves his lips. It makes you shudder.

Though when he touches you with such purpose, so lewdly, a whine you never knew you could make leaves your lungs. He looks up at you like you hung every star in the sky as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. The ‘shlick’ suctioning sounds of your already tainted walls couldn’t possibly be any louder.

He sees how embarrassed you are, but he doesn’t care. Your nose crinkles and your eyes close softly. He curls his fingers and his palm flattens against your clit. And you cry out for him, lurching forward as you wrap your arms around his head rather than his neck. He’s surprised to see your hips rock against his touches, riding his fingers like it’s the only contact you’ve ever known.

His free hand reaches up to tug down your vest. His tongue is flat and wide as he sticks it out to lick your bare tits. He isn’t rough, he isn’t aggressive, he isn’t rushing. He sensually swirls his tongue over your nipples, breathing heavily on occasion before he kisses them. You whimper when he sporadically skims his teeth across them. There’s no bite. No effort. He just wants to hear you cry for him like that. It’s like his teeth are barely there, just enough that you know they are.

“Do you touch yourself?” he mumbles against your skin. You can’t bear to look at him after hearing that. You pretend you didn’t, moaning louder as a diversion. It’s fruitless, and apparently you aren’t a good actress. He yanks your hair and forces you to look at him. His fingers stop, and your body writhes from the loss. “Don’t do that again. Answer me.”

“S-Sukuna…” you fuss. The feeling of your building pleasure being torn away from you is making you stupid. It’s pathetic. And yet, in spite of how humiliating it is, you’re still rolling your hips in a bid to get the feeling back. His expression falters to one you can’t read. You think it’s annoyance, but it’s so detached and expressionless. You yelp as he withdraws his fingers completely, with no time to feel the loss when he grabs your face with his slick-coated hand.

“I want to know if you make your pretty pussy cum after a hard day at work.” he says calmly, a low rumble in his chest as the words roll plainly from his tongue. Your eye contact falters as you notice him pulling at his sweatpants in search of his aching length. “And I want you to show me how you touch her. So go on, answer my question.”

“I… I—” you stumble. You watch him intensely as he frees his throbbing cock. He wraps his fist around himself and lazily strokes. He still glares at your features. While you’re utterly captivated by his cock.

It looks so angry. Too pretty and perfect to be real, you think. But somehow, it is. You think he’d be better suited as a porn star than a criminal with an asset like that. He spends an extra second squeezing his length just below the tip when he strokes himself, it’s like he’s ringing all of the pre out that he can. It dribbles out of his slit, coating his tip the more he summons. It’s beguiling.

You suppose you hadn’t really had a chance to admire him back at the club. It was so heated and hasty. Now, it’s purposeful. You look at his face again when you realise this is what he wants. He wanted you to look at how he touches himself and how gorgeous his cock is. He wants you to see how big he is and how much he aches and throbs when he needs to be buried in a sweet little cunt.

He wants the memory of this to stain your mind.

“I d-don’t.” you confess. “Not much… I’m always tired. Busy.”

“Mhmm… I can tell.” he nods, his voice is somewhat sympathetic. “Come here, princess. Sit on it.”

His hand grips into your hip while he lines himself up with your entrance. You don’t fight him, you don’t hesitate. You let him push you down, you eagerly suck him in. Your eyes roll back as you feel him swell through your walls. Even after taking him earlier, you’d forgotten how monstrous he feels inside. And this time, somehow, he feels bigger.

“Fu-uck,” you gasp as his tip immediately nudges at your sweet spot. You hold his shoulders and hope he’ll assist you. The thought of disappointing him makes you anxious. The idea of him knowing how inexperienced you really are makes you sick.

He throws his head back as your hole swallows him greedily. He looks at you through a heavy-lidded stare, and relief fills you as his hands grab the fat of your ass. You moan pathetically as he spreads them. But his ultimate goal is to bounce you on his cock. You feel weightless in his hands as he helps you. Each steep drop down onto his length makes your throat tight.

He's there.

You feel him there.

“Play with yourself, go on. Rub her f’me.” he says lethargically.

And your face feels like fire. The foreplay was gasoline and his command is a match. And yet, out of fear of him withholding pleasure from you again, you comply. Your hand slithers between your thighs and you do all you can to pretend you’re elsewhere.

You try and pretend you’re in your room, in your bed. What usually gets you going is a mildly heated scene from a movie or TV show. The sexual tension of an almost kiss makes your face flush, though a lot less than it is now. And you think it’s unbearable to witness sexual tension and not see any resolve, so you scamper to find a video online to suit your needs. Something quick and short as you reach into your nightstand to find your favourite toy.

The thought of being caught by your brother makes you sick so you have to be fast with it. The website you ordered it from assured the toy would be whisper quiet. And you can only hope it’s true. You don’t touch yourself, not without aid. And even then, it’s sparse. You haven’t rubbed your clit with your own fingers in years.

Years of being riled up and having a useless boyfriend who didn’t know what he was doing lead you to finishing yourself off each and every time. And you knew, the moment you got a job and your own income, you’d buy yourself a vibrator.

It’s hard to pretend Sukuna isn’t here, though. It’s hard to pretend you’re in your room with Netflix playing quietly enough in the background it can still cover the sound of soft core moaning from your phone while you vibrate yourself to completion.

Because his cock fills your each and every thought. Every sense you possess is dominated by him. The feel of him stretching you out beyond your limit and repeatedly hitting your sweet spot. The sound of the sticky tacking of his length as he slams you up and down on his pulsing member.

Your vision alternates between his gorgeous gaze and the point where your bodies connect again and again. Your pussy gushes slick and the evidence of your prior combined coupling stains your inner thighs and his crotch.

The scent of your sex fills the car and the heat of your sweaty bodies exacerbates it. Your skin is damp, as is his. And it’s overwhelming. He groans into a chuckle as you moan louder and louder for him. If anyone happens to be awake at this ungodly hour, they’ll no doubt hear you. If anyone looks out of the window, they’ll see how the car rocks back and forth. It turns you on further. The tang of sweat and arousal filling the car. It makes you lightheaded.

“I can— fuck— c-can taste you, daddy…” you whine. He urges you to fall forward so he can kiss you. It forces you to take over, moving your hips on your own as you try and maintain your building pleasure. “You’re too big… can feel you in my throat, Sukuna… tastes so good.”

“Dirty fuckin’ girl.” he smirks, kissing you again. “You’re fuckin’ filthy. Not the good girl you pretend to be, hah?”

You nod, agreeing. He’s right, after all. You’re talking in a way you didn’t know you had in you. He takes over again, holding your rear so he can take full control of your body. He guides you repeatedly until your eyes cross from the pleasure. Your walls tighten, and your throat feels hoarse as you cry out for him.

“Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight, kid. Don’t be shy. Cum for daddy.” he encourages you.

You cry, at that. Falling forwards to envelop him in your arms as you come undone. He coos, sweetly, kissing your cheeks and licking away your tears. The feeling isn’t lost on you, the feeling of disgust. You’ve never felt happiness or value like you did just now. Realising how right he was about your issues and using them to subdue you.

Your pussy gushes and he moans further, chest roaring as he finally lets his sight drop to see what a pretty mess you’ve made of yourself.

Made of him.

Made for him.

He pushes his thumb into your clit and rubs quickly, further extending your pleasure through it all. You could just about cum again when you feel him shoot another load into you, his warmth filling your womb for the second time today. It makes you feel special. It makes you feel loved.

The very idea of it has you pushing yourself away from him desperately. But he holds you close. His moans are boisterous and uncaring. It’s loud enough to wake the whole neighbourhood, you think. And at the very least, you’re sure Megumi will hear if he doesn’t have his headphones on.

His arms wrap tightly around your waist to keep you in place, his feet planted firmly on the floor of the car as he fucks himself into you. He’s sure to empty every last drop into your cunt, his balls slap against your ass as he ploughs into you furiously.

And when he stops, you freeze. You feel cold. You feel filthy.

He doesn’t discard you or try to kick you out. The opposite, really. He’s still holding you close, lightly peppering your chilled skin with kisses. Eventually stopping to rest his head on your chest. He feels you try to move away, but he only holds you tighter.

So you stop trying to leave. And instead, you run your fingers through his hair. He hums contently, at that. And you feel your heart pound harder, a little smile works its way onto your face.

Maybe he’s not so bad.

That thought alone makes you stop. He looks up at you, his stare soft and gentle as he wonders what made you halt your actions so abruptly. Before he can ask what’s wrong, you move to leave.

“I have to go, I really have to go now.” you say bluntly. He huffs, watching as you scramble to put your clothes back in place, clambering off him in a hurry. He doesn’t say anything in response. He watches as you scramble to open the door. Tears of panic begin to fall as you struggle to open it, you frantically pull and push as you try to get away. He leans over, and with little effort, he opens the door for you.

“Goodbye.” he says, simply.

“G-Goodbye.” you respond, ducking out and briskly walking to your front door.

You take a deep breath when you get there, preparing for the possibility that Megumi is about to greet you and bite your head off. Sukuna doesn’t move. He stays in the back seat and watches you with a sombre expression. With no inclination of what happened to change your mood, he can only assume he stepped out of line.

He doesn’t want to leave just yet. At least not until he knows you’re safely inside.

As you grab the handle of the door and push, your heart sinks.

“No, no, no… d-don’t do this to me now.” you sob, hysterically fiddling and pushing the door. You stupidly think that you just need to try harder and it will open. But no such thing comes to pass. You’ve locked yourself out.

Sukuna sits upright when he realises, watching as you slowly turn to look at him. His hand folds, gesturing for you to come closer. And with no other option, you do. Your phone is inside as well as your car keys. You can’t text Megumi to tell him what you’ve done. And even if you could, he’d only come outside to see that you’ve let him down. Again.

“Silly girl.” he says, looking at you with a weak smile when you finally approach. You duck down to look at him, not willing to get inside with him. “Do you want to come to my place? I’ll bring you back in the morning.” he suggests.

“I’m not fucking—”

“You can stay in a different room.” he answers your obvious assumption with a reasonable response. And still…

“N-No. I don’t want to go to your house.”

“Then I guess we’re sleeping in the car. Come on.” he sighs. He waits until you get in, begrudgingly, and then gets out himself. You watch him as he circles to the trunk of his car, looking ahead at your home as you wait for him to return. And he does, with a large, fur blanket.

“Why do you have this?” you wonder.

“I don’t remember. You better not be complaining, sweetheart. You’re lucky I didn’t fuck off right after I came like I usually do. Especially after that little performance.”

“Performance?!” you yell. You position yourself as far away from him as you can in the confined space, sitting as closely to the door as you can. “You just don’t get it! At all.”

“You’ve made that clear, princess. Don’t worry. I’ll steer clear when you get back inside tomorrow. I’m too old to be playing stupid games with little girls who don’t know what they want.”

You huff, covering your legs with the blanket before folding your arms.

“I told you it was a mistake.” you correct him. “I told you I didn’t want to see you or do that again.”

“Shut up.” he shakes his head. “Just go to sleep and we’ll never have to see each other again. Because that’s what you want, yes?”

You pause before speaking. Images of his delicate expression in your arms haunt you. You’d overreacted because of your own cowardice. Because of a promise you evidently had no intention of keeping. It wasn’t a performance. It was just… fear.

“Yes.” you tell him. Your response is bold and scathing.

He doesn’t react, he merely shrugs, adjusting the blanket over his own legs, too. His arms cross over his chest, and his head rests against the window. You can’t see beyond his eye covering, but you assume his visible eye is closed.

You do the same, hoping you fall asleep sooner rather than later.

You’re wrong, though.

His eye is open wide, looking upwards to the light polluted sky. There are a few stars visible, three. He stares at them, thinking about the events of the evening. He hadn’t expected to end up fucking once tonight let alone twice. But when you walked into his club and tried to give him a piece of your mind, he knew.

He knew he’d have to have you.

And he hadn’t expected to be so lucky so have you again, like this. But he can’t put his finger on why things went so sour. It could be one thing or a number of things. He has ideas. He thinks your less complicated than you seem to think you are. You’re keeping him at arm’s length, and that, he understands.

He’s a stranger, but he doesn’t have to be.

He doesn’t want to be.

But what can he do?

He’ll just stare at the stars until he drifts off to sleep.

Maybe things will be different in the morning.

—

© 2024 rinhaler

—

chapter one | m.list | chapter three

[bigtedbear]

“ 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 “

𝐩𝐫𝗼𝗺𝐩𝐭 : 𝐲𝐚𝐧! 𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐭𝗼 𝗼𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝗺𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝗼𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫

Content warnings: dubcon to marriage, sexual coercion, hatefucking, yandere themes, breeding kink, marriage kink if thats a thing???, nsfw content 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 𝟏𝟖+, gay sex, anal sex, anal penetration, oral sex (reader receiving), spanking, choking, hair pulling, unsafe sex (wont get sick if you wrap your dick)

Another fair warning, if you're here from my Dan Heng fic, this is a lot more intense/dark and emotional than the last one

My inner angst writer shone through in it, if you want to skip down to juicy parts and skip said angst, there's going to be a different bracket to denote where the steamy activity starts.

“ new contact noted! caller 𝚔𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚢𝚊𝚝𝚘 has been added to your phonebook! - love, 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑡-19 “

"Lord Kamisato, it's been quite a while since we've last spoken."

Komore Teahouse was somewhere that reminded you of your childhood, something far in the past. It was a little home away from home, your father and the Yashiro Commissioner of your childhood would be here for meetings. You would listen in on all the important details, but terminology and code words would fly over your head. The pleasant smell of tea would hang in the air while you sat, quietly and obediently without so much as lifting your hand to grab one of the many sweets strewn on the table. Instead, you'd train your eyes on the floor in front of you, fold your hands in your lap, and focus on your breathing.

There was almost always another little boy that would join in on tea time, just a couple months younger. Soft looking baby blue hair fell over his shoulder, bright eyes to match. The Commissioner would softly pet his head when your father would compliment him on his manners. Papa, as you affectionately called him in your younger years, would give a smile that would light up the room when the former Lord Kamisato would return the favor. He always took your little hand in his bigger, scarred one and he'd give it a little squeeze.

The first time your fathers left the room, the boy said his name was Ayato.

Yet, you couldn't recognize the man in front of you as that 'Ayato'.

There was a polite smile stretched across his lips as he took his seat in front of you, the smell of Sakura Blossoms choking the aroma of tea leaves that painted the room in a nostalgic light. "There's no need to be so formal, we've known each other since we were children."

Your grip on your cup tightened, though your facial expression remained relaxed. "I suppose we have." You brought the fine china to your lips to take a languid sip before gently resting it on the table. "What do you want from me?"

The same cursedly beautiful baby blue eyes darkened when they met yours, something someone who didn't know him better wouldn't have picked up on. "Is it so strange for me to invite my best friend out for tea when I finally have the time?"

Your lips twitched downwards, displeased. "Don't try to paint me as some villain, you don't request formal meetings unless you need something."

His grin remained placid, serene, and yet it grew more strained. The tension at the corners of his lips gave way to the bitter disappointment beneath his carefree façade. His fingers came to gently rest on his thighs, the quiet drag of his sleeves on the floor cutting through the silent wall of displeasure that seemingly split the room in two. "You don't seem to respond to any of my invitations otherwise."

Your lips pursed, you found it hardly necessary to hide your animosity for him.

"Would you believe me if I said I missed seeing you?"

To this, your dry laugh cut through the air. Hands balling into fists on your lap, you pushed them into your legs as a reminder to keep your wits about you. "I wouldn't be surprised in the slightest. You've never been one to be play fair."

You caught a speck of hurt in his eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. Instead, his hand wrapped gingerly around the handle of the kettle, pouring himself a cup of tea. "Your tongue is still as sharp as ever."

"You act as if you're innocent, Commissioner," fists lightly curling the fabric of your own intricate kimono bottoms, "I don't recall any kind of apology for anything you've done."

To this, he didn't answer.

The silence hung in the air like a veil of fog.

The next thing to interrupt said silence was his gloved hand wrapping his fingers around the rim of his teacup and bringing it to his lips.

You let out a low huff, "I'll only ask again once, Ayato, what is it you want from me?"

He took a moment to answer, holding the delicate glass in his hand. He stared into the amber liquid as if searching for a script in the ripples created by the barely noticeable tremble in his arm.

His next words drifted past his lips like a ghost, just barely above a whisper.

"Your hand in marriage."

...

"...I beg your pardon?"

His eyes lifted from his tea finally, eyes swirling in anticipation. "I said, I want your hand in marriage."

You gave a laugh of disbelief, eyebrows curling in offended dissolution. "No, no-" Your hands raised to rest on the corners of the table. You went to use it as a crutch to help you stand up. "Absolutely not, the audacity of you to suggest such a thing is baffling and outright-"

You cut yourself off in favor of shaking your head, beginning to stand up.

His hand twitched towards your retreating form, "Take a moment to consider it-"

"What is there to consider?!" You snapped, "You've ruined so many business opportunities for my family and suddenly, you think you have the right to demand that from me?"

He looked up at you from his seat, slamming his cup on the table with enough fervor for the tea to splash out from the rim of the glass. "I did it for your own good-"

"Just because it meant promising others my hand in marriage didn't mean that my family didn't need it, you selfish, selfish, conniving-" You wanted to continue, but you cut yourself off for the sake of trying to keep your relationship as cordial as possible. Instead, you let out an indignant huff. With another infuriated groan, "You of all people should understand that I have more things to worry about than my own happiness!"

He tried to call your name, pathetically, acting like he hadn't done anything wrong in the slightest, "I never let your family suffer for losing those proposals, I always made sure you were taken care of by the Commission-"

"Does that change the fact that you're selfish and conniving Ayato?" You accused, hands balling into fists once again. "Why is it you think I would be willing to be married to a man who's proven he can't be trusted over and over again if it means he gets what he wants?"

You spied the wounds you'd torn open in the way his lips were pressed into a thin line, the inner corner of his eyebrows curving upwards. His eyes flitted between the two of yours, interpreting the brewing cascade of hatred that ebbed and flowed through your irises. "Because I love you, I've loved you since the day I met you and you'll never find a man who will love you in your entirety as much as I do."

Your jaw tensed as you swallowed a glob of saliva down your throat. With it, you swallowed a few choice words that would've exploded from your throat like a firecracker. "Love won't feed my family, Ayato. Love will not uphold my family's legacy. Love won't erase the fake sincerity you showed me the day you tried to kill the woman I was supposed to marry on our wedding day-"

"You don't have a choice."

You froze when your eyes met his hardened expression.

"What in archons' name are you talking about?"

You could see the column of his throat move as he swallowed. "You should sit down."

You grit your teeth, "No, I want to know what the hell you're talking about."

...

"Our marriage has long been anticipated by the public," He started, hand wrapping around his teacup. It didn't seem like he had any intent to actually take a drink of it, instead he occupied himself with swirling it around. "Your family is reliant on the internal affairs of Inazuma, it would be of great importance to your clan's longevity to get their foot in the door of the Yashiro Commission."

You narrowed your eyes at him, "And?"

He continued to avoid eye contact, eyes trained on the spinning whirlpool of tea. "Your family has long wanted to ask for either my own or Ayaka's hand, but believed they weren't in any standing to make a political climb that drastic. Specifically, your father hoped we'd set up some kind of engagement when we were young, but my father passed away before it could be finalized."

You felt your blood run cold.

You realized what he was insinuating with a violent shiver traveling up your spine. Your words were slow and drawn out, your voice dimming as you admitted the fatal flaw in your argument.

"You could secure a marriage without my input anyways."

His eyes finally lifted to meet yours, "I wanted to ask you first."

You could feel yourself trembling with anger, but instead of snapping at him, you let out a shaky scoff. "I was right, you haven't changed at all." You pushed a hand through your hair, "No, actually, I take that back, you're even worse than I remember. You always promised me you would put me and my family's comfort first, but now you're-" You started laughing, cold and ugly.

This time, he was the one to snap at you, "I didn't expect you to be so willing to give yourself away to someone else!" He stood up to be nearly eye to eye with you. "I was the one that grew up with you, I was the one that was there for you when your mother passed, I was the one that you swore your loyalty to when we were younger-"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up, Ayato!"

"NO!" He stepped in closer, elegantly maneuvering around the table. "Do you not want to remember all the time we were each other's one and only? Do you not want to remember when I promised to marry you? Do you-"

"That was before you tried to kill someone!" You took a step back from him, your voice cracking at what you could only dub the worst moment. "You're a psychopath and as much as my father wants to pretend it wasn't you who set it up, you still sent her into critical condition! You- You-"

He stepped closer to you, reaching out to try to pry your hands away from your face, he said your name with such desperation he almost sounded like he was the victim.

"Get off of me!" You pushed him away from you by the chest, only growing more upset with just how little space it made for you. You wanted him in the pits of hell, and yet he was still in this beautiful little teahouse.

"Kamisato Ayato, even if I have to marry you, I swear to all of Celestia above who hear me, for as long as I live, I will never love you!"

"You don't mean that."

His words hung in your conscious like a parasite. Clinging to the inside of your dome and following you around as a hidden stowaway. You would've been amused if this was some kind of villain in those light novels, but this was Ayato. This was the Yashiro Commissioner, Lord Kamisato, whichever title he preferred. He held so much power over your life and your family's legacy you had to take his word as gospel and the conversation was one of the many things you had to transcribe in this holy text.

By the time Ayato formally proposed the alliance to your father, you'd come to terms with the fact you would have no chance to escape him. You'd spoken to the man you'd been informally courting all this time, someone you'd planned to spend the rest of your life with just a few short weeks ago. You broke the singular heart the two of you had shared, that beat in time with one another. Now Ayato had to honor of stomping on its remains as your paramour watched you get married to the man you'd claimed to despise.

"Kazuha." You greeted.

You tried to hide the sorrow and longing laden in your gaze, but you could tell by the way he returned the same look back to you that any and all attempts were a miserable failure. He called your name softly, the same manner of greeting. This was supposed to be the reception of your wedding, a time of joy and celebration, yet all you could feel was a bitterness fester in the pit of your stomach.

Why?

You asked yourself this over and over again. Why must you have let all those silly promises to Ayato slip past your lips when you were younger? Why must he have turned out to be as ruthless and dishonest as he was now?

Why did you have to let go of happiness you thought was finally in your grasp?

The poet's voice felt wispy, light and refreshing, but also laced with pity. It sounded like what a weeping willow looked like when it hit your ears, "Congratulations on your joyous union."

Your voice was equally as soft as you looked at him, "Thank you."

You thanked him, but not for his congratulations. You thanked him for his understanding.

You could tell he understood your implication when he delicately questioned, "How is it that you and Lord Kamisato decided to finally be wed?"

Your expression softened, finally letting the strained smile you'd forced yourself to wear the entire day falter just a little bit. "Everyone around us knew it would happen sooner or later. Had the former Yashiro Commissioner not regretfully passed, Lord Kamisato and I would have been wed the morning the both of us were eighteen."

He hummed, holding up the small glass of sake he was nursing since the beginning of the reception just the slightest as an invitation, "I see... would you care for a toast? For all of the memories two created along the way?"

It was not for the memories you created with Ayato, you realized, but all the memories you created with him. Something akin to a final goodbye.

The smile returned to your face, genuine this time. You couldn't see it, but your eyes shone with adoration as you responded quietly, "Of course." Kazuha's own heart was swelling with a woeful passion. But his own smile remained on his features when the two of you clinked your glasses together and took a long swig of the alcohol.

The air was peaceful, beautifully comforting. It was something you'd longed to feel since your hopes and dreams had been carelessly extinguished by who you used to believe was your closest childhood companion.

The atmosphere immediately dropped when the sound of a familiar voice drifted into the small, semi-secluded area you'd found yourself in to steal just a few more moments with your former lover. It drifted in like a phantom, automatically killing the mood despite it's subtlety.

"Am I interrupting something?"

You did your best not to scowl, but you failed to stop your lips from pressing into a thin line. Kazuha noticed the tension immediately. He'd always been the more perceptive of the two of you anyways. "Lord Kamisato, I wished to congratulate a good friend on a delightful marriage. I hope I didn't steal him away from the festivities for too long."

Despite his light-hearted laugh, you could tell Ayato was unhappy. "No worries, Lord Kaedehara, but if you'd be so kind, the day has been rather hectic. I haven't had the chance to enjoy a moment alone with my husband."

Kazuha had wanted to stay in an attempt to help you once last time, always putting you first. Perhaps he could've prevented any tense conversations in front of guests. It seems his last act of love had failed. "...Ah, I suppose I'll be taking my leave then."

Ayato looped his hand to hang onto your bicep, a much more content smile gracing his features as he watched the familiar silhouette disappear into the crowd once more. Once the two of you were alone, he turned his attention to you.

"I didn't want to demand anymore from you, but it still wounds me when my husband chooses to spend his time with another man the day of our wedding."

His smile still looked as radiant as it had when the two of you were standing before the altar, but once again, you could see the swirling and darkening displeasure in his eyes.

You scoffed, painting a similar smile on your features. His mood seemed to lighten just the slightest bit, however his hopes were dashed when your words were harsh and cold. "Spare me, I don't want to spend more time with you than I must."

He gave what looked to onlookers like a playful squeeze to your bicep, but his words were equally callous, "Humor me, I've finally caught you and despite all my devotion you act as though you hate me."

You leaned in close to his ear, pretending to whisper a fond secret. You wanted to watch him struggle to keep the smile on his face when you told him the thing that always seemed to hurt him the most throughout the course of wedding planning.

"I'm not acting, if you need me to spell it out, I do hate you."

"You're leaving?"

You turned back to the luxurious futon, Ayato sitting on one side of it. He looked serene, angelic in his sleeping yukata. He had the covers pulled over his legs and his hands folded in his lap. Picturesque, you admitted in your head begrudgingly.

"What did you expect?" Your own yukata hung off your frame loosely, having been hastily put on. Your arm was wrapped around the belt, making sure that at the very least you would be decent while you were walking through the halls of the estate you were now hopelessly confined to.

His brows were furrowed, confused, panicked. His hand came to rest on what should have been your side of the futon with a frown, "It's late, where are you going?"

You huffed, turning your back to him again and going to slide open the door to your shared bedroom. "I'm tired, I'm going to sleep."

His voice took on a displeased undertone, one hand fisting the covers strewn across his lap. "The futon is here, where else would you sleep?"

You shook your head, "I'm going to my study, don't bother waiting up for me. I won't be returning until the sun breaks." Your hand found the dark and smooth treated wood of the door. Just as your fingers went to pry it open, you noted the sound of shuffling with dismay.

His hand was ghosting over your shoulder in moments, "If not every night, then at least for tonight could you stay? What would the attendants think if you weren't in our marital chambers the night we were married?"

You shrugged his hand off aggressively, hand pushing open the doors to your room. "If you loved me you would let me leave despite what anyone else would think, Lord Kamisato."

Both of his hands returned to both of your shoulders, fingers digging into the thin fabric. "Then would you let me be selfish and indulge me? I want to sleep next to my husband tonight."

"You keep calling me your husband. We may be married but I don't love you, can you respect my wishes this once?" Your hand was like a constrictor around his wrist, tugging his greedy palms off of you. You tried to erase the sight of your wedding band glinting in the low light as you did so.

"You can ask for anything else, but this is something I'm not willing to compromise on." He didn't let up, your fist still wrapped around his arm. "We are married, not only is it improper for you to sleep anywhere else, it's especially improper for you to leave on the night of the wedding. We still haven't fulfilled all of our obligations to officiate the marriage-"

"For her excellency's sake, get your hands off of me!" You cursed, all but shoving him away. "You are lucky I was raised a man of honor or you wouldn't be getting anything out of me, you greedy snake."

He returned your anger with venom of his own, "And what, pray tell, do you mean by that?"

You occupied yourself with properly tying on your Yukata, "You are lucky I choose to be faithful to you, to forsake all others, should you have picked any other unlucky victim they would most likely be running off with their own mistress-"

"If you're still thinking about someone else when you put your ring on my finger, you clearly aren't a man of honor!" He bit back.

You narrowed your eyes at him, tightening the knot on your clothing. "You are so incredibly lucky that Kazuha didn't deserve to be some mistress. He deserves so much more than to be some dirty little secret I kept in my pocket for the rest of his life-"

Baby blue seemed to pierce through your defenses, the clear hurt, but also vindictive anger shining pure and unadulterated back at you. "I am the one that you married, and yet all you think about is him. If you think doing the bare minimum of not inviting someone into our bed is being a man of honor, you are sorely mistaken."

You finally turned your full attention to him, ignoring your need to leave the room as quickly as possible by this point, "What more do you think you're entitled to?!" As quickly as the words tumbled out of your mouth, you shook your head, realizing you'd stepped right into his trap. "Forget it, don't disturb me again. I'm leaving."

"I wanted to have a real marriage!" He all but screamed, frustrated tears brewing in his eyes, "I wanted to carry out all the traditional rituals of newly weds. I wanted to fall asleep listening to the sound of your heart, I wanted you to treat me like more than some kind of villain-"

You sucked in a harsh breath, "You're sorely mistaken if you think a ceremony and a ring would erase everything you've-"

"For fuck's sake, I wanted to feel like you loved me again." His tears streamed down his cheeks, "I wanted to feel you hold me underneath the moonlight like lovers do in all those silly light novels you made me read, I wanted to go to sleep surrounded by the knowledge that I was married to the love of my life."

Your jaw hung, slack at his confession. "You can't possibly mean-"

His hands were balled into fists at his sides, "Yes," he breathed through the quake of his voice, "I wanted to consummate the marriage tonight. I thought at the very least you'd want to get it over with."

You stared at him in utter disbelief, abject horror written all over your features. To think he would demand something so intimate out of you without considering your feelings was another level of detached from reality you had the inability to understand. You shook your head, opting not to respond.

His voice came out like a whisper, "Am I really so repulsive to you? I was rather sought after when I was a bachelor. If nothing else, I'm attractive. Do you hate me so much you couldn't put it aside for one night just to fulfill the obligations of a real marriage?"

"Don't talk to me, Ayato." You turned your back on him for the last time that night, finally stepping out of the room and closing the door behind you.

Your eyes shot up when the door to your office opened.

You hadn't been expecting any visitors today, so imagine your dismay when your husband walked through the door. In all of his well-maintained, elegant glory, there was a small smile stretching across his cheeks.

It had been a few months since your wedding, since then, you also had not slept in the same bed, eaten any meals together, nor did you take particular interest in the innerworkings of the Yashiro Commission in its entirety. No, you largely kept away from anything that had anything to do with Ayato. You were still nice to everyone else in the house though. After all, you hadn't been raised in a barn. You were a proud heir to a business that reached far and wide, you kept your manners in tact no matter the situation.

Usually, your day consisted of waking up at the very crack of dawn, back on fire. You slept in your study on the floor with a blanket, much to the dismay of Thoma. He had come to take care of you just as much as he took care of Ayato and Ayaka, viewing you as an extension of the family. Despite all of Thoma's begging, Ayato refused to purchase another futon for you, claiming you had a perfectly functional one you could be using. In your stubborn little argument, you too, refused to order yourself a futon.

Sure, your quality of sleep had declined, but you still had your pride in tact.

Despite being awake so early, you never caught Thoma off guard. In fact, he would be quick to enter the room with some tea and a fresh set of clothing he'd managed to weasel past a sleeping Ayato. Usually, if Thoma got caught trying to bringing you your clothing in the morning, Ayato would stop him and tell him your legs weren't broken and you could get your clothing yourself. You would drink your tea, Thoma would leave the room, and you'd dress yourself. Thoma would offer you breakfast, you'd take a small offering out of courtesy, and then you'd disappear off to your office to help run the business with your father.

In the afternoon, you would usually come home and find Ayaka. Seeing as she was your sister-in-law and someone you'd also grown up with, you enjoyed making pleasant conversation and catching up. As soon as Ayato returned from whatever duties had taken him away from the manor, you would slink off to your study. Thoma would bring you your dinner when you'd refuse to leave your brooding room, you'd eat. You'd change into the sleep attire you kept in your study, fall asleep on the ground, repeat cycle.

It was just like Ayato to throw a wrench into your perfectly crafted schedule.

"Commissioner... to what do I owe the pleasure?" the words flowed past your lips reluctantly, a special flavor of vitriol hand in hand with each syllable.

He seated himself in front of your desk, taking note of the seeming mountains of paperwork. The sight wasn't unfamiliar to him either. All the more reason for this visit to set alarm bells ringing in your mind. "Come now, that's hardly the way to address your husband, dearest."

You see now why he left the door to your office open. For fear of frightening your subordinates, you played along. "I mustn't forget my place, love, after all, we are in public."

Even though the word was strained, you could see his smile pull just the slightest bit up his cheeks upon hearing the pet name. "Who would dare question you returning you husband's affections? Do tell, I'll make sure the full might of the Yashiro Commission will come down upon them."

You gave a playful chuckle back at him, fully embracing the self-loathing that came with it as you pushed yourself up from your seated position. You took careful steps to the door, pretending you wanted to get some alone time with your so-called lover. "You spoil me."

"It is only natural, is it not?" He smiled, allowing himself to pretend this was the truth of his marriage. Oh, how he loved to make you squirm.

You couldn't shut the door fast enough.

Once, the two of you were guaranteed to be away from the prying eyes of others, you took your seat at your desk again. You picked up your brush, scanning over the writings in front of you. "Why are you here?"

"Is it so wrong for a man to want to visit his other half?"

You grit your teeth, doing your best to bite back the invectives you wanted to badly to hurl in his direction. "You certainly haven't visited me before."

He waved it off, "We've only been wed for a few months, surely you understand the difficulties of responsibility and obligation."

"Ayato," you warned, "-don't toy with me. I am well aware you have some kind of motive for pushing your work aside. Get on with it."

He pursed his lips, "If my motive was just to invite you out to lunch?"

You knuckles whitened in their grip on your brush, "Cute, now tell me why you're really here."

He sighed, readjusting his sitting position. "I suppose it can't be helped, you've known me for far too long."

For once, you agreed with him. "Indeed."

Ayato seemed to swallow spit down his throat, "I want a divorce."

You paused, brush stopping on your page. Your eyes met his, shocked. In all your time knowing him, he had never been one to surrender his prizes when he finally got his hands on them. This revelation only prompted one question to tumble past your lips. "What's the catch?"

"Divorce wouldn't look good on either of our families, but I'm afraid your family will bear the brunt of the backlash." His finger delicately traced circles on the top of your desk. "Failed engagements aren't the best omen to a family's prosperity. Not only this, a failed marriage that is revealed to have been begun on false pretenses would only further shatter the credibility of your family's business."

You cursed under your breath, pressing your free hand's fingertips on your temple. "State your demands."

He seemed almost giddy that his bluff had paid off. His face lit up with this boyish delight that had your stomach twisting in a woeful knot.

"Simple, I want to spend tomorrow night as lovers."

Despite your attempts to draw out your work for the day, ultimately you still had to return to the large estate that was now your home. Instead of taking a left turn in the long corridor to your study, you swallowed the spit in your mouth and walked further down the hall to what was technically supposed to be your bedroom.

You wanted to try and work as late as possible, hoping Ayato would already be asleep by the time you returned home. You could make the excuse that you were much too busy to consider being intimate, but much to your dismay, he had waited for you to get home. This was the first time in months you'd willingly entered the room, and yet, every inch of it was burned into your memory.

Right down to the man sitting awake and alert in the middle of the futon.

As soon as he heard the door open, his eyes were on you in an instant. Not even a second later, he was on his feet, slinking towards the doorway. You shoved the brewing grimace back down into your gut and away from actually making itself known on your features. Instead, you let your expression remain neutral as he rested his hands on the collar of your clothing. "You're here."

"Did you think I was lying?" You asked, carefully, letting your own hands rest on his wrists. Instead of doing what you usually did, prying his greedy mitts off of you, you settled for just loosely holding them in place. It wasn't lost on you that Ayato was pleasantly surprised by this change of pace.

"No, you've never been a liar, dearest." He let his pet name for you roll off his tongue like honey, yet it tasted as bitter as bile when it slithered through your ear canals. "But being told what will happen is much different to actually experiencing it."

There was a calm, placid smile on his face as he reached a hand up to stroke the side of your face lovingly. He was acting as though his doting husband had come back from war, not his prisoner finally ending his little strike and returning to his little prison cell. You hadn't had any physical contact like this in months, you really hadn't realized how much you missed it. You let your eyes close and your face lean into his palm with a tired sigh.

He was practically exploding with a twisted sense of triumph while he observed. It had been so long since you had so much as looked at him. Now, you were letting him touch you, willingly. His voice came out hushed, just barely ghosting through the air. It seemed as though he hadn't wanted to ruin the moment by pressing you further, "Do you want to do this tonight? I wouldn't mind going to sleep and trying another time as long as you promise to stay here more often."

You hummed, shaking your head, "I made a promise to you, Ayato. I don't go back on my promises."

His breath hitched in his throat when you gently peeled his hand off your cheek and pressed a soft kiss to his wrist. He called your name quietly, almost as if urging you to reconsider. You wondered if it was for your sake or his own.

You didn't want to hear anymore of his protests or his complaints, so you leaned down just enough to be eye to eye with him. "Can I kiss you?"

He didn't respond verbally, sucking in a sharp breath through his nose and nodding his head quickly.

You pressed an innocent kiss to his lips, waiting a moment before pressing another one in the same spot. You lingered, noting the barely noticeable hum from your husband's throat. Your hands came to rest on his hips, carefully peeling your lips open and waiting for him to follow suit.

He was quick to take the hint, deepening the kiss and tilting his head to the side. It turned heated rather soon after, starting with a tentative swipe of your tongue against his. He rewarded you with a moan, his mouth opening wider to accommodate anything you were willing to give him.

Before you knew it, the two of you were staggering towards the futon, intertwined in one another's arms. His palm was pressing against your flaccid dick, trying to get a reaction out of you. You, on the other hand, had your grip on his hips, squeezing his love handles every now and then as encouragement or affirmation. You weren't a half-hearted lover, if you planned on doing something, you followed through to the best of your ability.

Ultimately, you came to sit on the edge of the bed, Ayato kneeled between your legs. His face was red, breathing heavily and panting. His eyes screamed with desire and twisted with passion. His own arousal was clearly between his legs, much easier to see with the thin material of his sleepwear. Still, he insisted on paying attention to you before himself.

He rested his head on the inside of your thigh, submissive and demure. You did your best to push his misdeeds out of your mind, focusing on having an attractive man's attention all to yourself. More than eager to please, he positively drank in your attention, hands coming up to pull at your waistband.

He pulled it down just enough to expose your erection to the cold air, you swallowed the hiss that threatened to burst past your lips and instead focused on brushing his hair behind his ear. You watched the pleasant shudder run through his body, his desperate hands coming to wrap around your length.

He pressed a soft kiss to the head of it, licking across the tip and paying special attention to the slit. You let out a grunt of approval, hand moving from behind his ear to tangle itself into more of his baby blue hair. His cheeks flushed an even darker blood red as he kissed the side of it this time.

"Let me take care of you tonight, darling. You've been so good to me today," he practically begged. He waited for your affirmation, needy for your encouragement. You nodded absentmindedly, eyes half-lidded as you stared down at him.

He practically moaned when he first took your cock into his mouth, the vibrations sending a pleasurable tingle up your spine. You shuddered under his attention, watching each inch disappear past his lips until he stopped abruptly and gagged. The spasm of his throat elicited another groan out of you, your eyes closing to properly register the delectable debauched feeling.

He lifted up off your dick to take a deep breath before going back down again. It was better the second time around, having the flat of his tongue caress the underside of your length. He let a good amount of saliva dribble past his lips and slide down the shaft. He used it as a lubricant as he worked to stroke what he couldn't immediately fit in his mouth. You bit your lip at the pleasant sensations.

He started to bob his head up and down slowly, most likely testing out the feeling for himself before fully putting all of his effort into it. You leaned back further onto the futon, bracing yourself on the hand that wasn't busying itself with combing through his hair. You let yourself be lost in the sensations and lewd noises of saliva and gagging. Your eyes fluttering shut as a few groans escaped your lips.

He pulled off of your length with another pornographic noise, trying to catch his breath. "Honey, please look at me." His hands continued to stroke languidly up and down as he caught his breath. "I want to see your reactions, knowing it's your husband that's making you feel good." He pressed his cheek onto the inside of your thigh again, a cheeky smile carved into his cheeks.

You opened your eyes to peer down at him, tensing your jaw as he used his thumb to toy with your slit. Even if you didn't want to admit it, you kind of had to say he knew exactly what to do when it came to handling your sex.

His smile stretched further, a beautifully sinful glaze darkening his irises as he stared into your eyes. You felt pathetic for putting your dignity aside for something as small as carnal pleasure but you couldn't stop yourself from asking him,

"Are you going to keep going?"

His eyes were on you like a starved man presented with a gourmet, luxury, full-course meal. You almost felt like you were the one getting deflowered, the one that was about to be ravaged.

Ayato laid beneath you on the futon, his appearance disheveled and the front of his yukata open so he was laid completely bare for you to see. Desire fermented in his core, and you could see it in the way his usually pale skin was painted a soft pink hue, slick with sweat. The two of you had barely done anything, and yet, he was practically begging you to continue with the way he looked into your eyes.

His fingers tugged impatiently at your own clothing, just about drooling as he watched you shed each and every layer. You leaned forward, looming over him as you indulged him with another open-mouthed kiss. His eyes and your own fluttered shut as your fingertips ghosted its way down his abdomen.

He whined into your liplock when you hands stopped just short of his ass, coming to rest on his hips. You didn't immediately give into his greedy demands to keep going, opting to give yourself a moment to steel yourself for whatever would come after this. His arms gingerly snaked their way over your shoulders and curved around your neck. One of his hands came upward to play with your hair.

Finally, you continued to trail your soft touches further down, stopping to knead the fat of his ass before continuing even lower. He positively blossomed at your careful and loving attention, vocal in his satisfaction with each and every movement you made. You pulled away from the kiss, offering him two fingers pressed against his bottom lip.

Wordlessly, he pushed your hand away, bashfully avoiding eye contact and looking down towards where the two of you would be connected momentarily. Following his gaze, your eyes widened as you realized he was already prepped beforehand.

Even if you had treated him like porcelain up until now, it didn't change the fact there was a hatred for him that took hold in your gut. You pressed another soft kiss to the side of his neck before gingerly taking the skin between your teeth.

Underneath you, he let out a sweet moan, his hand pulling at the hair on the back of your head out of reflex. You grunted against his skin. Freeing his neck from your canines. "I didn't know I married such a whore."

A whimper sounded from the back of his throat, something that'd been meant to degrade him only seemed to deliver blood rushing to his dick. It twitched against your stomach, his thighs trying to rub together despite both of your knees pinning them open.

Despite the lack of warning, you lined yourself up to his entrance and slammed yourself in to the hilt with a considerable amount of force. You relished in his choked scream as his fist nearly tore a chunk of hair from your scalp. "W-Wait, dear-"

You drew your hips back again, bucking them forward into his perineum again. He cut himself off with a squeal when you brushed past his prostate for the second time. He looked up at you drearily, confused. He went to open his mouth again, to beg you to be gentle or to go slower. But you beat him to it,

"If you want to act like a needy whore, you'll be treated like one, dear husband."

He went to protest, but he was cut off with another harsh thrust that sent him further into the futon. He whimpered pathetically as he squirmed under your gaze. He might have gotten a little carried away before you'd gotten home, but he hadn't known you'd react to it so extremely. Once he'd finally learned to keep his mouth shut, you rewarded him with another earth-shattering movement of your hips.

His thighs tried to squeeze together, but your hips were in the way. It left him largely defenseless from your onslaught on his prostate. He took in a deep breath that was promptly knocked out of him as you set a decently quick pace to start off with.

Soon enough, the room was filled with the sound of whorish whining as you battered his insides with your cock. The force of your thrusts creating a lump on his toned stomach muscles, you raked in a twisted satisfaction from his suffering as he tried desperately to adjust to the abrupt change to pace.

He called your name, hiccupping through it, "Slower- ahn~ Sl-Slower, please- hn~ I beg of yooUu-"

You didn't respond to him, ignoring him entirely as you trailed your mouth to his collarbones. You bit down harshly on one of them, sadistically aroused by the way his back arched underneath you. He keened at the abuse, eyes shutting as he allowed himself to be lost in the rhythm of your hips.

The fingers previously tangled in your hair moved to scratching down your neck with his semi-blunt fingernails. You hissed at the raised red marks that followed behind his desperate movements. While you certainly enjoyed putting him in a compromising position, you didn't care as much when he was the one inflicting pain on you.

Deciding to return his favor again, you let him believe you were going to be a little more gentle. Your hips slowed down momentarily as you trailed little butterfly kisses up the side of his neck. You allowed yourself to be proud of the explosive shiver that burst through his nervous system, even more excited to see what his next reaction would be.

You sucked a light red mark into his jawline before grinding the skin between your teeth, speeding up your hips exponentially. There was a pleasant satisfaction that settled over your body as the one you were fucking into the bed seized up in an silent scream. His back arched into a beautiful curve, almost as though trying to run from the hand pressed against the small of his back, but begging for more as it pressed into your chest.

A few short seconds later, his pitchy moan ripped through the air as his legs pulled up closer to his chest and his toes curled. However, you didn't let up, only further fueled on by his intense reaction. If he thought you were going as fast as you could before, he was sorely mistaken as you picked up the pace once again.

You used the hand on his back to push him into your own muscular chest, the bump on his stomach protruding not only from his abdomen muscles, but now having the added pressure of your stomach on top of it. His own cock was pressed between your two bodies, the sweat sticking to your skin making the slide comfortable.

It wasn't long before Ayato's nails raked down your back one more time and his squeals echoed through the room. "Cu-Cumming- ouh~ ouh~ i'm cumming, i'm cummingi'mcumming-"

His eyes crossed before rolling into the back of his skull, his lips parting in another shriek before coating both of your stomachs in his spend.

Despite enjoying watching him suffer, you slowed your hips and rocked him through his high tenderly. His arms dropped from around your neck, resting his forearm over his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. He shuddered as you continued to slowly move, the sweet burn of overstimulation coursing through his entire body like some kind of poison.

"D-Darling, I just came- mmhh~ p-please, spare meee~"

You gently grasped his wrist to pull his arm away from his face. Despite the sweet smile on your features, he could tell from the wicked glee swirling in your pupils that you had no intention to allow him a moment to rest.

You tenderly brushed your lips over the pulse point on his wrist, watching him shiver as you continued to slowly move your hips. "Ah, but sweetheart, you were the one begging me to spend the night together as lovers." You intertwined your fingers with his as you gave a light-hearted chuckle,

"I'm simply giving you what you want."

"D-DeArehest- Ahnnn~"

Ayato couldn't do anything besides pathetical rest his upper half against the soft futon as you basically fucked the daylights out of him. His eyes had long rolled up into the back of his head, the number of times he'd spilled across the bedspread had gone uncounted past the second. Having already been filled up once, the second round of sex was arguably even more torturous as the overstimulation curling outwards from his gut turned from pleasant tingling all over the body to violent bursts coursing through his nerves.

In response to Ayato's pathetic call for your attention, you grabbed a fistful of his silvery blue hair, pulling him off of the mattress to preserve his scalp. He mewled lewdly at the sudden pain, the shame of being such a masochist pooling in the bottom of his gut.

Teasingly, you answered from behind him, continuing to pound his now limp body into the mattress. "Yes, my treasured husband?" You'd figured out you'd rather liked doggystyle, specifically because Ayato no longer had the comfort of kisses or reassuring looks from you.

Your voice had a singy-songy twang to it, obviously very pleased with the state you'd demoted him down to. His eyes were laced with tears, drool streaming down his chin with another anguished moan escaping past his abused, swollen lips. The crafty, steadfast Yashiro Commissioner turned to a pathetic, needy whore in bed. It was enough to make anyone at least a little prideful.

"P-pleaheeaseeee no mooohreeeee, mmmmhhh~"

His hands fisted the soft blankets underneath him, his voice pitifully shaky, slurred, and drawn out. His thighs trembled with each powerful thrust aimed at his rear, his arms shook and buckled from the overwhelming pleasure surging through his bloodstream. More tears streamed from his eyes as you continued to tug at his beautiful blue locks.

You clicked your tongue at him, letting go of his hair to wind your arm back before bringing your palm down across the fat of his ass. "How ungrateful, Ayato-" you grunted when he subconsciously clenched down on your length, "Your dearest has been treating you so well all night and your only thought is to be unappreciative?"

He sobbed pathetically into the pillow he'd been dropped back onto, his mind reeling in the waves of pleasure crashing through his body with each and every magical piston of your equally magical dick. "I-I'm shorrryyy- ouh~"

Your hand came down on his ass again, hissing when he tightened around you. "I should teach you how to properly appreciate when I spoil you like this."

Despite the burn of overstimulation streaking through his gut, he nodded his head frantically against the pillow, desperately seeking your validation even in what could be considered one of his weakest moments. Bent over with his ass in the air, spurting uselessly from his cock while becoming more and more aroused with each punishing spank delivered by his husband's hand.

Your pace picked up once again as the groveling mess that was your husband took its toll on you. You could feel your orgasm approaching, approaching quickly. You groaned as you pressed your chest against his arched back. "You begged me so nicely to cum inside earlier, how about you make it up to me by doing it again? Hm? You can do that for me, can't you beloved?"

He nodded against the pillow. You chuckled, grabbing him by the hair again, pulling him to be supporting himself on his palms again, his squeaks and pleas no longer muffled by the futon. It took him a few moments to full compose himself, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sudden change of pace and position.

One hand pulling his hair, your other wrapped around his neck carefully, giving it a small warning squeeze. He keened under the added pressure, his dick throbbing painfully hard once again, smacking against his stomach.

"Pleasepleaseplease- ahahn~ come inside of me darlIHing~" He choked on his next words as your fist tightened around his trachea. He could feel himself grow lightheaded, both from the lack of oxygen, but also the mounting arousal that came with the exhilaration of knowing how much power you held over him.

The moment you eased up on the pressure, he was begging again, much more eager to keep going with your encouragement. He babbled on, lacking the ability to care less about who could hear their beloved Lord Kamisato begging for his husband's cum while being choked and spanked.

"I nehEeed your cum i- OUh~ insiHide~," With another light squeeze of his throat, he continued to spew more and more pleas. "B-Breed me pleHEasee~ Hah~ I want t-to be fuhull with y-yoUhour- Nghah~ chiHIldreennnn~"

You groaned as you finally bottomed out in him for a second time, spilling inside of him once again as he shrieked in euphoria.

When you let go of him, his front half fell into the futon, murmurs and mumbles of contentment and gratitude gushing past his lips like a broken dam. His hips only really remained upright because you were still sheathed inside.

His thighs shook like a leaf, terribly unstable as you attempted to pull out. Despite all their trembling, the moment you tried to disconnect, his hips pushed backwards into yours with a whimper.

Your features gave way to a smug grin, reaching down and lacing his fingers with yours against the pillows. "Do you not want me to pull out, Ayato?"

He sleepily shook his head, still slumped ass up face down.

"You might get a stomachache in the morning, silly boy."

He flushed a little the more you teased him, shaking his head again. He moved your hand shakily to his cheek, pressing a kiss onto each of your knuckles.

You chuckled, taking an especially excessive pleasure in watching his fucked out, blissed actions.

You had been the one to do this to him.

Even with all the power he held over you, you could still do this to him.

Perhaps...

...

...Perhaps knowing this would make your marriage to Kamisato Ayato just a little bit easier.

there's a note on the side of the phone booth, read it?

" happy gay month to the loml <3 "

THIS IS A REPOSTED WORK FROM MY ORIGINAL ACCOUNT BEFORE IT CRAPPED AND DIED ON ME

I USED TO BE FOUND AT @steadybear

I FEAR YOU WILL HAVE TO DEAL WITH SEEING @bigtedbear INSTEAD FROM NOW ON

Part 2 here: " to be lovable "