#if there's errors its getting fixed tomorrow ...

[sahkuna]

LET'S KEEP IT PROFESSIONAL — GOJO SATORU

synopsis: the end of your contract with GS Holding Corp. is coming to an end. well, your contract working for the company's founder and CEO, gojo satoru, as his personal assistant is ending since you no longer would work directly under him. but gojo will be damned if he lets that happen without trying to change your mind.

content warning(s): fem! + afab reader, plot-ish → eventual smut so 18+ mdni, risky workplace relationship, oral (m→f), unprotected, semi-public sėx, pining gojo satoru bc that's my fave to write

word count: 6.6K+ holay molay...

a/n: wanted to post this bc 1) its been a millineum since i last posted & a fulfilled req which comes from @doinqhemmings and 2) mentally rejecting that manga leak/ending -_-

“I’ll miss you.”

You stand in front of the photocopy machine unmoving. The soft buzz of ink etching itself onto paper is the only sound that floats through the air beside the voice of the persistent CEO you work under. 

Had you known that he would be following you around the building, bugging you as you tried to complete the tasks that he assigned you to complete on his behalf, you would’ve straight up told him to do it himself. 

You contribute much of your time and effort to this company, and you’re highly recognized for your work. …But you absolutely didn’t need the recognition to come in the form of being under constant surveillance from your boss.

Assuming you might’ve not heard him the first time when you don’t respond right away, he leans in closer and rests a comfortable arm on your tense shoulders. “I said, I’m gonna miss you—”

“I heard you the first time, Gojo.”

When the machine stops whirring indicating that it has finished the job, you don’t hesitate to snatch the sheets of paper from the printer and slap them onto Gojo Satoru’s chest, decked out in a baby blue button-up. All too soon, you’re sidestepping around him and heading out the door toward your office right down the hall.

“Hey!” he exclaims at your sudden early departure.

Hot on your tail, Gojo trails after you clutching the papers close to his chest. “Where are you going?” Gojo asks when you take an unexpected sharp left turn from the usual route to his secluded workroom. 

Despite your best efforts to leave him behind, his tall stature annoyingly reminds you that he can keep up with you just fine.

“Y’know,” your boss starts, catching your attention as you practically speed-stomp your way down the halls of his corporation, “Ijichi would never treat me like this!” 

You could practically hear the way he pouts from behind you. When you briefly glance back behind you to confirm your suspicions about what expression he could be wearing, you’re not surprised to see he’s throwing a wistful glance above your head. His soft, pink lips are downturned and tacked with his snow-white brows all bunched together, probably wishing you’d be more graceful with him.

Or take pity on him at the very least, you know?

You turn back around and continue your path toward your own office space. “Well, it’s a good thing he’s coming back next month then, huh?”

Pity denied.

Gojo swore he heard the wry smile in your voice as soon as you finished your sentence. You’re willfully teasing him and playing with his emotions. But that’s why he’ll miss you— none of his employees would dare talk to him or give him the same flack as you do.

When you step into your office, so does he. And Gojo, either painfully oblivious or simply choosing to ignore the blatant act of you purposefully and almost slamming the door shut in his face, swings it wide open and ambles toward your workstation, a smile creeping onto his lips.

“Extend your contract with me,” he starts, carelessly tossing the sheaf of paperwork onto your tidy desk once he’s within arms reach of it. He peeks at you over his shades and returns your unimpressed stare with an innocent smile. “I’ll raise your salary a reasonable amount once you do.”

While that did sound nice on paper, realistically speaking, dealing with Gojo’s antics for the foreseeable future was less than ideal for you. God forbid you start getting grey hairs at such an early age. Or a raised blood pressure. And besides…

“I still work under and for Utahime’s department though,” you say matter-of-factly, once you’ve crossed the space of your room to sit behind your desk. Your lips twist into a soft pout as you shuffle the scattered sheets together and place them into a neat pile.

Ah, right.

After Ijichi had filed for a paid sick leave after an unrelated work injury several months ago, you graciously covered your colleague’s position as the personal assistant to the founder and CEO of GS Holdings Corp., for the time being.

Pushing away the urge to roll his eyes into the back of his head at the namedrop of his top leading director, Gojo deflates onto your desk.

Utahime has been on his case for the past few weeks to hurry up and file the paperwork so that you’d be back in her good graces as soon as your term with him expires. He’s been procrastinating on filing out mostly because he hates doing tedious work, the other half of him flat-out does not want to see you go so soon.

To say Gojo has thoroughly enjoyed you operating as his aide would be a huge understatement. 

Wherever Gojo was in his grand office building, it wouldn’t be unusual for your co-workers to spot you too far off. Outside of work is the same story, especially considering you’d be the one driving him home from work since Ijichi acted as both his assistant and driver. 

“Just switch to mine!” Gojo whines. He joins you at your desk and sits his ass right on the documents you had printed and stretches his limbs against the surface, nearly eating up all the space on your desk. He ignores your strained quips at him to get the hell off. 

“Utahime’ll be fine, let her find someone else. The job market’s already bad as is, so let another person take it and come be with me.” 

There’s a double meaning if you dig deep, and Gojo prays and hopes you’d take the time to digest what he really means. 

However, it seems like you’re not in the mood to be an excavator today.

Pushing his antics and sweet-talking to the side, you arch a questioning brow at him and lean back into your chair. There was nothing explicitly charged behind that reaction of yours but it shook Gojo to the core realization that his attraction to you was unnerving— though not unnerving enough to have him stay away from you.

“What about Ijichi? Where’s he gonna go if I stay?” Gojo visibly perks up at your usage of the word ‘if’, because in his mind he’s already imagined the situation to be quite likely. You see the way he sits a little taller, a little higher on your desk at the proposed question.

But alas, you dash his hopes by adding, “Which I won’t. But if I did, what then?”

“Then you guys can make it a two-person job!” he proclaims as if it were the most easy and obvious answer in the world. Gojo rests his feet on either side of your hips and the heels of his dress shoes press into the leather material of your rolling chair, prompting you to squeeze your thighs together due to the lack of room. “You know I need all the help I can get around here.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “You’re being ridiculous, Gojo.”

With the wheels on your chair, your boss uses it as leverage to roll you impossibly closer to him than you already were, angling your face centimetres away from his lower torso. You will your eyes not drift down his body and toward his lap.

Lord knows the field trip the man would have with that if he were to catch you blatantly checking him out right before him. 

“Why’s it so hard to convince you to stay, huh?” he asks, knocking a soft knuckle against that stubborn head of yours. “Why? You don’t like me or something?”

Your heart stutters in your chest at his question. 

Insufferable as he can be sometimes, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel some magnetic pull towards him. 

Losing control of the situation a bit, you grab the reins again. Clearing your throat you ask, “Do you talk to all your employees like that?”

He shakes his head. “Nah.” Gojo props an elbow onto his knee and presses his cheek into the palm of his hand. His smile grows warm and gooey when his blue eyes clash with yours from where you sit a few inches below him. “Just you.” 

You’ll die. You swear you can die right now from the way he’s looking at you— which is no way a boss would ever look at their employee. Let alone assistant. 

Keep it professional.

“Wow! I’m flattered,” you reply, your tone laced heavily with dry sarcasm. You brush his legs away, successfully bringing his feet to rest on the floor and scoot back from your desk. The heated tension that once lingered in the air clears out a bit as you rise to your feet.

Soft cerulean eyes watch as you stand before him, a bit more guarded as you cross your arms across your chest. Whatever you say next is completely lost on him because unlike you, as subtle as he may be, Gojo allows his eyes to wander.

He swallows thickly. You shouldn’t do that. His gaze inconspicuously slides down to the low neck of your blouse and zeroes in on how your arms press against your chest, deliciously squeezing your breasts together and—

“Satoru!” you hiss.

Shit.

Maybe he wasn’t as discreet as he thought.

Quickly flitting his attention back to your face, Satoru offers you a half-assed apology but it’s too late for that. Your face is screwed tight with abashment and bafflement after having caught him in the act. It’s an emotion he hasn’t seen you wear lately. He wants to see more of that. More of you.

Before you could get a word out, ready to rip him a new one about how your eyes weren’t ‘down there’, he hurriedly rushes out a proposition— changing the subject and bringing you both back to the original reason as to why he’d been following you around this past hour. “If I get you to like me, will you work past your term?”

You rest your arms at your sides, completely forfeiting your motion to scold him. Now that’s new. “I never said I don’t like you.”

Satisfaction settles in his chest, warm and heavy at your statement. Gojo liked the sound of that. 

“Then how about this,” the tall CEO moves from his seat on your desk toward you. With each step you take back, he matches you in stride until he’s got your back up against a wall. Quite literally. 

“If I get you to like me more than you do now, you stay. With me. Deal?”

The gentle scent of fabric softener and sandalwood cologne wafts around you. This proximity made you squirm with anticipation. “Do what you want,” you say, craning your neck up to stare at him resolutely. “It won’t change the fact that I’ll be in a whole new department next month.”

The smirk on Gojo’s lips stretches wide as he meets you stare for stare. His voice drips heavy with confidence and a brazen spirit as he says, “Yeah?”

You only manage a stiff nod, not trusting yourself to speak lest it comes out as a fucking moan from the sexual tension alone.

Content with your compliant state, Gojo finally backs off from you and makes his way toward your door. “Don’t forget that meeting we have with the executives this Friday.”

“I know,” you tumble out, sinking back onto your office chair, miffed that he's got you in such a tizzy. It's a miracle that you don’t melt into it right away under his gaze.

You pick up a new batch of paperwork and begin filing them into their respective folders. When you finish with the first set, Gojo’s still lingering by the doorway, watching you.

“…Yes?”

“Nice top, by the way.” His hand rests on the wooden frame, eyes half-lidded with intent. “It really does bring out your eyes.”

As expected, you did not forget about that special executive meeting on Friday. Nor did you forget about the many others you’d have to host and coordinate after that, too.

Essentially, you didn’t let what had transpired the week before deter you from your respective duties as Gojo’s personal assistant. As his right-hand… woman.

But you didn’t entirely forget about what went down either. 

Whether you adhered to his “deal” or not was completely up to you. However, after that day, every personal meeting or time alone together seemed to bristle with tension, heavy with a delicious sort of pressure of the unknown. 

When Gojo would catch your eye or you’d catch his during prolonged meetings that stretched over the initial run time with the higher-ups, there would be a brief moment of shared glances. One recent instance stuck with you to the last few weeks of your contract.

You remember how he would roll his eyes sarcastically as if he were being forced against his own will to attend these kinds of things— which technically he was, but that’s the reality of being a successful founder and CEO of your own company— and his actions would rouse a stifled giggle from you, which in turn prompted an easy smile of his own.

But it was through these shared glances, these brief moments of humour that it would slip into something a little slower, a little more sweet the more you two held eye contact like dripping honey until you broke it off, hurriedly directing your attention back toward the front of the room.

It’s only a matter of time until this bundled ball of emotions displayed through knowing glances and brief moments of heated exchanges finally snaps.

You both wonder when that’ll be.

“This is crazy.”

You slide your gaze away from swirling your cup of iced cappuccino to Shoko who sits beside you. She leans her head back against the cushions of your office sofa— a complimentary gift from Gojo two weeks ago(you suspect it was his last-ditch effort to get you to stay).

“What is?” you ask.

Sitting up, Shoko crosses her leg over the other and fixes you with an exhausted look. “This!” she exclaims, gesturing her hands around the vicinity of your room. There are moving boxes scattered everywhere, which is a bit absurd considering you’re only moving one level downstairs to your old space. 

“I can’t believe you’ve only got a week left until you switch departments,” she says. “Suguru’s gonna lose his head the moment you’re gone and Satoru’s already started with the theatrics.”

Trust and believe that you already know. It’s hard not to when you’ve got the Chief Operating Officer, Geto Suguru, knocking on your door for an offer you ‘don’t wanna turn down’. But once you’d told Geto that you were still going ahead with filling out the documents to head back to Utahime and her team, it led to a hefty chunk of your lunch being taken up by him asking (begging) you to reconsider when your contract end date drew closer. 

“I just worry for Ijichi is all,” you say, shrugging as if the situation were already out of your hands. “Gojo’s been very temperamental and… well, bratty these past few days.” 

Shoko’s brown and neatly trimmed brows shoot up with interest at the disclosure.

You think back to a few days ago when you told Satoru to take it easy on Ijichi. You told your white-haired superior that he’d have to patiently reintroduce him to the new tech and procedures that Ijichi would work with as it would be his first week back. You couldn’t believe your ears when he straight-up told you, “I don’t care about a man’s hardships. He can work them out by himself!”

“Satoru’s always tormented the poor guy,” Shoko says, shaking her head at her friend’s show of obnoxious behaviour, “but he does mean well. I think.”

And speak of the devil… 

Over the curve of Shoko’s shoulder through the open blinds of your clear, glass window you spot Gojo. Noticing that he’s caught your attention, he waves incessantly at you through the glass before you hear him twist the knob of your door open.

“Which reminds me,” your friend continues, drawing your sights back on her, “the rest of the team and I were thinking of heading out for drinks later to celebrate with you one last time. Wanna come?”

“Oooh,” Gojo drawls once he’s within earshot. 

He’s looking extraordinarily handsome today, wearing black slacks and a buttoned, linen navy blue top. He’s smiling boyishly from ear to ear when he catches you twisting your lips in a tight purse as if you were trying to stifle a smile of your own. “A celebration, hm? Can I come?”

Shoko scrunches her face at the sudden question and self-invitation. She throws a bewildered look in Gojo’s direction when he settles himself onto his signature spot in your office. Your desk. “Why?”

Huh?

What kind of question was that? Why else would he want to spend an evening out with everyone? With you especially.

White brows bunch together, tight with confusion. “To celebrate with you guys?” he responds as if Shoko had just asked a one-dimensional question. 

“You’ve been a moping mess this past month after you’ve learned that she—” Shoko points her finger into the flesh of your cheek, “—wasn’t going to extend her work contract with you. So, if anyone’s gonna be celebrating, it sure as hell isn’t you.”

Yeesh! Tell him what you really think.

Knowing Shoko didn’t mean any harm by her words, you still felt inclined to soften the blow of her statement just a tad. “Plus, you don’t drink alcohol, Gojo.”

“And you don’t drink,” Shoko adds, raising her arms in exclamation as if to thank you for bringing that point up.

“Well,” pushing himself off the edge of your mahogany desk, Gojo stops a bit before the sofa you and Shoko both occupied. “I don’t need to drink to have a good time with my team!” he defends, directing a pout-induced glower at his colleague.

You’d think he’s done, but with the touch of Gojo’s large hand grabbing your wrist and pulling you off the couch that you realize he’s far from over at stating his point. “And neither do you,” he says, he pulls you behind him, steering you both toward the door. “We’ve got plans.”

Puzzlement crosses over not only yours but Shoko’s features as well.

“We do?”

“Since when?”

Gojo nods at you and Shoko’s questions spoken in tandem. “Emergency meeting. She and I’ve got important matters to discuss.” You feel the faint brush of his hand find the small of your lower back and maneuver you out the door and away from Shoko’s view. “You wouldn’t get it.” Is the last thing he says before he pokes his tongue out at the woman and ducks out of sight.

“Oh, really?” She says, rising to her feet but making no moves to follow you both out the door.

“You don’t even put your own two cents during our regular team meetings! There’s literally nothing for you to discuss, Satoru.” You hear her call after him as he guides you down the hall, past the elevators and toward his big office.

If only she knew how true that statement would be.

Gojo hates meetings. They always happen at inconvenient moments and eat up way too much of his precious time. It’s time that he could be spending doing something else… or someone. 

Which is why this “emergency meeting” was different.

If someone had told Gojo Satoru several months ago that his favourite employee, his darling assistant would be seated pliant for him on his expensive Birch Lane executive desk he would have laughed in their face with a furious blossoming blush nipping at his neck.

But right now, there’s nothing to laugh about.

Gojo’s watching you closely in the shaded dark of his room, tracking every subtle shift in your body language for any indication that you may be uncomfortable and change your mind at the last minute. But when you wrap an arm around his neck, slotting him closer in between your legs, he realizes he couldn’t have been more wrong.

Something in the air felt different. It was thicker. Electric. 

Gojo knew in an instant he wouldn’t last when your lips ghost the words, “This doesn’t mean I’m changing my mind,” on his mouth, before tipping his head to the side, giving you the space to slot your lips with his.

Game fucking over.

Sure, maybe he wasn’t able to completely get you to change your mind about working with him and his department.

But this?

You whimper into his mouth when his hands skim down back and cheekily resting right above your ass. Your body warms underneath the palm of his hands with every touch and how he kneads your hips tucked away beneath your business casual attire.

Gojo Satoru had won in his own right.

Your breaths come quicker as he steals them from you, his left-hand squeezes your side while the other slides across your lower belly and traces the hem of your blouse.

“Take this off,” he commands, his voice wrecked with reckless abandon. His forefinger hooks on the band of your pants, in a pathetic attempt to pull them down despite not having undone your button and zipper. His air of frustration is not lost on you when you see the slight furrow in his brows, the more he pulls but to no avail of getting you in a state of undress.

Not wanting to lose the momentum you both have, you unhook your arm from his shoulders to give him a helping hand.

“Relax,” you say, softly nudging his hands away from your clothing. He hungrily eyes how you pop the button of your dress pants and shuck them onto the floor. 

Once that was off though, everything came into sharp focus, and Gojo’s breath caught in his throat. 

There’s almost a crazed look in his eye the more he stares at your clothed cunt unblinking, unmoving. His breathing’s gone a bit ragged, and every so often you feel the twitch of his fingers dig into the skin of your thigh.

It was a bad idea, considering how the sight of your panties alone had him this rigid, this excited. But he still grits out a rough, “Lemme see.”

Slowly, you pull your laced underwear to the side and Gojo's teeth dig into his inner cheek at the sight. His hands mark a slow path from your thighs down to your knees, pushing them wide apart so that he could see more of you. 

The delicate spread of your folds had your boss entranced. Gojo has seen and salivated over the various outfits you wore to the workplace, always wondering what was underneath before he deemed such thoughts as inappropriate and immediately started thinking about something else. But now that he sees it for himself, it was all too tantalizing. He wanted to see all of you, taste all of you.

The tuft of snow-white hair that once obscured your vision is now gone, sinking lower to your lap.

“Oh!” you exclaim loudly at his sudden movement. Shocked by how quickly he came down to eye level with your pussy.  “You don’t—” you stammer, swallowing hard as all the blood rushed to your head. Instinctively, you snap your legs shut in a weak attempt to shield yourself from his intense, unwavering gaze. “You don’t have to do that!” 

Having one of Japan’s richest, self-made men drop down to his knees staring fervently at your cunt through you in for a loop. You’re sure by now the expression face was no less than gobsmacked right now.

Gojo’s hand grasps one of your calves, his thumb rubbing smooth circles over your warm skin before he hooks it over his shoulder leaning closer to you. “What do you mean?” 

Pulling you closer to his face, you’re forced to plant your other foot onto the ground for stability. “This!” you hiss out, tone laced with embarrassment and arousal as your finger points between his face and your body. “It’s unbecoming, you don’t have to do that to get me off. Really!”

“Why not?”

You don’t have to say what you’re thinking out loud. You were his assistant for fuck’s sake! 

You’re sure what you two are doing would be an issue with some legal policy with the company. But then again… Gojo Satoru is the founder and CEO of said company so he can technically get away with one or two things. But—

Sensing your hesitancy, Gojo’s eyes soften when he looks up at you. “Just… forget the formalities for a sec, will you?” he implores, strong hands grazing up to your knees again hoping you wouldn’t be stubborn with him this one time. “Please? I want to do this for you.”

You look searchingly into his eyes before you finally mellow out. Feeling you relax in his hold and your thighs lose that tension, that was enough of a green light for Satoru before his mouth skims along the mound of pussy. Each kiss he pressed lovingly against your skin, left you shivering in their wake. 

It wasn’t long before his tongue, firm and slick, pokes out and licks a long, slow stripe up your slit which has you keening. You feel his lips twist into a smug smile when he hears the broken sound of his first name from above him.

“Hm?” he hums, still mouthing at your pussy which encourages another ragged moan from you. “Am I doing good so far?”

You don’t know why he even bothered asking, considering the sheen shine of your arousal coating his mouth and chin. Nonetheless, you give him the answer he patiently waits for.

“Yeah,” you breathe, moaning again when the tip of his tongue circles your sensitive clit. 

And it all becomes too much when his hand abandons supporting your leg on his shoulder, to skate its way up your thigh and toward your pussy. The combination of his forefinger rubbing tight, intricate shapes on your clit and his mouth working you open have you yelping from overstimulation. 

You press your palm against Gojo’s forehead when the heat in your lower belly runs hotter, successfully pushing his face away.

“Not like this,” you protested weakly, your hand smooths down from his face to grip his shoulders. There’s a light flush that peaks beneath the collar of his shirt. He looks absolutely debauched right now. “I want you.”

With the cuff of his sleeve, Gojo wipes your arousal off the bottom half of his face. Unhooking your legs from him, you're left to shakily stand on your own, with nothing but the support of his desk to keep you upright.

“Alright,” he breathes, smiling at how your eyes follow the way his hands undo the expensive black Ferragamo belt on his waist. “How do you want me then?” 

“Um…” You look around the place for feasible places for you to get fucked on. Crude, but true. 

Behind Gojo is his office chair rolled back, looking vacant and lonely. “We could do it on the chair?” you suggest, eyes twinkling at your proposal. “If you want?”

“You want to ride me?” he asks, a proud smirk twitching at the corner of his lips.

Your air of confidence softens into something more breathless and vulnerable which has his heart surging with reckless affection. “Don’t make it weird!” you yelp, giving his shoulder a light shove.

Dragging the chair closer, Gojo chuckles at how quick you are to change moods. “Come,” he says once he has sat down, patting his lap with one hand while the other pulls himself free from his boxers and slacks. “Ride me. Make yourself feel good.”

You don’t know what turns you on more: A) the way he’s speaking so dirty, so obscene with you right now or B) the sight of Satoru’s cock smacking against the pale, creamy space of his exposed lower abdomen. You stare at it for too long, the build-up of saliva gathering in your mouth the more you stare at his thick and hard shaft, occasionally bobbing on its own under your intense glare.

You could die and go to heaven right now.

Gojo’s hands grab your waist and pull you closer to him. Running your tongue along the inside of your cheek, you twist around so that you’re back is now facing him as you prepare to take him all in.

“No, no, no, no,” he rushes out when you’re about to sit down on his lap facing away from him. Within seconds, Gojo has you facing him. He grasps the back of your knee and tugs it to his side, pushing the armrest out of the way and does the same with the other. 

Oh! You didn’t know it could do that. 

“I wanna see you,” he murmurs, once you’re now straddling his lap and hovering mere inches away from his erection. His free hand moves between your bodies and grabs the base of his cock and angles it toward your slit.

“Oh.” You feel giddy. The noticeable brush of his tip stroking along your slick folds only adds to that dizzying sensation. “Yeah, I’m—”

When the head of Gojo’s cock slowly starts to push inside of you, your sentence is cut off by a broken moan emitted from the back of your throat.

With his eyes closed, there’s a lazy smile that spreads across Gojo’s mouth as he breathes out a heavy groan once he’s all the way inside you. “Yeeeah,” he whispers, the pads of his fingertips pushing tight against your bare skin.

You bite your lip and experiment with this position. Lifting your hips slightly before you sink back down, Gojo buries his face into your neck and breathes, ragged and heavy.

So much for wanting to see you.

“Shit,” you hear him hiss, as he blindly gropes at your ass, working your body to continue to slide up and down his hard cock. The heat of you had him seeing stars as searing pleasure tore through him.

Whimpering, you clench onto firm biceps, enjoying the shallow strokes he pushes into you.

It’s incoherent at first. However, when you tumble out a dazed huh? so that you could hear him repeat whatever he had said, Satoru's lips parted in ecstasy. “I forgot,” he choked out, voice raw and unhinged.

Gently tugging him away from your neck, your core tightened at the fucked out expression on his face. Curious eyes trail down to his stomach and how with each pump inside you, his muscles involuntarily spasm.

“The condom,” he states, slowing down his fevered pace. “I forgot…”

If it were anyone else, you would’ve hopped right the fuck off their lap with panic, body tense over the fact of how careless you were being.

But surprisingly there were no alarm bells and no flashing red lights in your mind. If anything your blood ran a little hotter, the need and tightness in your core taking over.

You don’t know you have it in you to completely stop everything in a search for a condom you don’t even know he might have.

“Pull out then,” is all you say before you begin to ride him again.

Gojo can definitely get behind that. He’s not complaining if it meant he got to have you completely raw.

Your pussy swallows his cock, and Satoru gathers up the bottom of his shirt— wrinkling it in the process— so that he could see the way he disappears inside you over and over.

When he shifts his gaze back up again so he can take in the expression you might be wearing, Gojo’s surprised to see you already looking at him.

There’s an adorable tinge to your lips that has Gojo flitting his gaze back to them every damn time he tries to make eye contact with you as he fucks himself sweetly into your pussy.

He’s overcome with the strong urge to kiss you. To cross the small width of space between your mouths.

So, he does.

His brow bumping yours, Gojo’s hands return to your ass and he stands up with you in his embrace. The cold press of his desk accosts you as he uses his weight to push you slowly onto your back. 

“Satoru,” you sigh your boss’s name blissfully once his lips leave yours to press them along the curve of your jaw before pulling away.

“I wanted this to be nicer,” he says, brilliant blue eyes glittering down at you through the sex-soaked shadows. His hips don’t stop pistoning in and out of you, and he exhales a particularly harsh hiss when he feels you squeeze around him. “Nicer than here.”

You drag in a breath at his sentence, its implications not lost on you. He’s thought about this before. “It's okay, there's always another time.” 

Satoru hums appreciatively, seemingly pleased with your answer. After leaning in for one last kiss, he brushed his mouth from yours and announced in a voice you barely recognize, “I’m gonna come.”

Propping yourself onto your elbows, you nod at him. “Pull out then.”

“Are you sure?” 

 Stuck between the incredulous look painted across your features and how your nails press a little tighter into his skin, Gojo listens. Not without hissing out a disgruntled, “Fine.”

Pulling out from your wet pussy, Gojo’s hand wraps around his dick and he strokes it fast and hot. He growls with sharp relief when you reach a hand down to massage his sac. He thinks he may come all over you if you continue doing that.

“Fuck,” he snarls when your fingers graze the base of his cock. 

Cracking his eyes open, he messily knocks your hand away from him before intertwining his fingers with yours and grabbing himself with his free hand, stroking hard and fast. Every so often his tip would intentionally rub up and press against your nub, successfully stimulating the sensitive bundle of nerves with the main goal to climax.

With every pent-up thought he’s had about you, Gojo finally comes with you in tow. His cum dribbles out from his slit and lands on your skin— mostly between your inner thighs and folds.

“So,” Gojo starts, his hands wandering up to the middle of your back after a few moments of comfortable shared silence between you two. As much as he wanted to relax in your post-sex session and bask in its warm glow, he had to address the elephant in the room.

You hum in response as you work the buttons of your blouse, waiting for him to continue. “When you said ‘next time’, did you seriously mean t—” 

The two of you abruptly jump apart at the telltale sound of heels clicking down the hall drawing closer and closer to Gojo’s office door. In a panic, you leap off his desk, sending a flurry of sheets flying down to the floor into a sorry pile. 

“Nice going,” Gojo remarks with a sly grin, as you hurriedly shimmy your pants up your legs. The sheen layer of sweat— among other things— makes it a bit difficult for you to easily slip them on.

Once they’re settled at your hips and you tend to the zip, you cast a withering glare his way, you’re relieved to see that he’s already tucked himself away into his pants, already looking presentable by the time the door opens.

With the click of the lock giving way, you hear a woman starkly ask, “Why are all the lights off?”

You could pinpoint that voice from a kilometre away. 

Turning on your heel, you see the shadowy figure of one of your closest colleagues in the dark of the room. “Utahime!”

When the head director steps into the room and flicks on the lights, the sudden brightness has you squinting your eyes a bit. Upon catching your gaze she offers you a sincere smile, visibly lighting up at the sight of you.  

But it doesn’t last long because seconds after her smile morphs it into a displeased scowl when she spots Gojo lounging boneless in his office chair a few feet away.

“And why’s it so…” Utahime fans a delicate hand in front of her face, casting a weary gaze at you two from across the room. “Warm in here?” she questions no one in particular.

Her eyes take in the setting before her, and she pauses in her tracks. You could only imagine what thoughts were racing through her mind.

“What hap—”

“—It’s warm?! I couldn’t even tell!” you respond, a bit too chipper as you cut her line of questioning off. A bit too fast. 

From behind you, you hear Gojo’s stifled laughter that’s covered by poorly by a ridiculous attempt at a coughing fit.

“Well,” you wring your hands together subconsciously, “what brings you here?”

Noticing you're off demeanour, Utahime fixes you with a puzzled look that reads as if she were asking you "are you okay?" as your plastered smile only grows more strained by the second.

“I came here to grab your reports and documentation from Gojo’s outbox, but somebody,” cue Satoru slipping on his signature shades to deflect the icy stare Utahime was housing, “forgot to put them there. Hence why I’m here.”

“Oh, right!” Gojo hums, rolling back from his desk as he reaches down to gather the scattered sheets that had fallen to the floor. “They’re all here.”

You both watch in shared silence as he flips through each page, meticulously setting each one aside that wasn’t labeled with your name on the header. 

Thrown off by how long he’s deliberately taking in smoothing out the crinkles on each page, the older woman stomps up to Gojo and unceremoniously slaps her hand on the wooden table. “Give me that, will you?!” she exclaims, snatching and wrestling the papers out from his hands.

“Ah! Wait—”

Scanning the pages your department leader seems content that everything’s in order.

Until it's not?

The woman’s once sunny and bright disposition suddenly flips on his head, as there seems to be something written on that page midway that makes her freeze.

“Go ahead and hand me a new copy,” Utahime says, practically tossing the sheets of paper back onto his desk without a second glance. She smooths her hands down the silky expanse of her long skirt, once, twice, then three times for good measure. “I want it in my inbox by next Monday.”

She nods curtly at you before she turns and practically books it to his door. You don’t know why but you swear you saw the faintest hue of pink tickling the apples of her cheeks. There was also an expression that couldn’t quite put your finger on that highlighted her features. 

If you were to say though, her emotion looked between the mix of detachment, embarrassment… wait, no. It was mortification.

But what was there to be mortified over?  

“What’s wrong with the copy you gave her?”

Gojo presses his lips together in a sad attempt to keep his smile at bay as he hands it over to you to see for yourself.

Eyebrows furrowed, you skim each sheet. You don’t get it. What’s the problem with—

That’s until you notice that some of the pages were sticking together. It’s on the third page you see it and understand why Utahime was in such a rush to leave. Why she kept wiping her hands onto her clothing.

Right there among the printed hiragana and kanji was a few small white streaks of fluid covering bolded characters and numbers. 

Oh no.

“Y’know…” The sleeve of his dress shirt rests along your neck as his hand squeezes at your shoulder. Delicate fingers slide against your bare skin and pull at the strap of your bra, successfully tucking it underneath your blouse again. Had that been poking out the entire time?!  “I knew it would’ve been a good idea to finish inside.”

Horrified that you’d have to deal with the information of going back to Utahime next week knowing that she knows what you guys did, has you burrying your face into Gojo’s chest and letting out a muffled scream.

“Just saying!”

FIN

i don't know how to stay within the maximum word count for the life of me... i'm not sorry!

also there's probably errors in this as i wrote it very hurriedly YOINKIES... ILL FIX EM TMRW IN THE MEANTIME THANKS FOR READINGGG

[aurumalatus]

𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘 𝗤𝗨𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 2.5k

genre/warnings. pixelprincess!au (princess!reader x knight!kinich), one bed trope, princess is nervous to sleep alone with a man (who isn't)

summary.

after a long journey, kinich and the princess finally turn in for the night at an unfamiliar inn. the only problem? there's only one bed.

author's note. i'm finishing this at like 5am so if there's any errors i'll look over it/fix it when i wake up LOL. for now, please scream and cry about knight!kinich with me. reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!!

𝐩𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐚𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It’s too warm.

As a princess born and raised in the land of Pyro, you’re accustomed to heat—thrive in it, even. It’s one of the reasons you dread trips like these so much. Foreign nations, even those with the mildest of temperatures, tend to feel a bit too chilly for your taste. Your father often jokes that you could withstand the heat of the Sacred Flame itself.

At the moment, though, you wouldn’t mind cracking open a window or two, even in the dead of winter.

The journey here had been difficult enough, boring as it was. Kinich had threatened to leave you alone in the woods a few times if you kept poking at him, but it was all you could do to not fall asleep. Attending foreign dinners always resulted in long journeys like these, though you know how important it is to maintain close relations with allied countries.

A few bumps in the road made this trek especially long, however—a number of bandits and blocked off paths added an irritating amount of time to your travel, until you and Kinich decided to rest for the night before heading home tomorrow. It had been difficult to even find a place—most inns had been full by this time, but you’d been fortunate to find one with a single open room.

A single, open room containing a single, solitary bed.

That aside, it’s a nice enough room, really. The dark mahogany furniture is carved with intricate nature-like patterns, flowers and leaves that crawl up the legs of the chairs and the foot of the bed. The whole place smells pleasantly of teakwood—a scent that, for better or worse, you tend to attribute to Kinich.

Your knight sits in front of the darkened fireplace, fiddling with a flint until it strikes with a small flame, then enkindles the rest of the wood. A flushing warmth instantly permeates the room. Usually, you would thank him for his efforts—he knows how cold you get—but now, you feel a thin sweat forming at your brow.

Kinich stands, brushing off his hands and admiring the firelight. The lighter strands of his hair glow in its radiance. “That should last us for a bit.”

He tugs at the clasp of his cloak, pulling the garment off and tossing it onto the chair in the corner of the room. It’s a thick fur with ornate green and gold trim; you’d given it to him as a gift during the Winter Festival a year ago. You let your eyes follow the motion, watching the dark cloth drape over the furniture—somehow, you feel too awkward to look at your companion right now. He glances at you, as if wondering what you’re doing just standing there, but doesn’t comment on it.

“Actually, I’m a bit warm,” you say, thumbing at the edges of your sleeves. Kinich raises a brow, genuinely concerned.

“...It’s wintertime,” he says, an obvious statement that seems to ask what the hell is wrong with you.

“Yeah, and I’m warm,” you retort, arms crossed. He looks at you, then looks at the fire, then looks at you again.

“Alright, but if you get cold later, don’t come crying to me,” he says, kneeling down again. Then, under his breath, he mutters, “though I have a feeling you will anyway.”

He toys with the kindling for a bit longer, until the raging flames die into smaller embers and the room cools down. As much as he gives you a hard time, he prioritizes your comfort as much as he possibly can. 

With the temperature now taken care of, there is still one other source of discomfort in the room, you think, glancing back toward the bed. It looks temptingly comfortable, with thick sheets and fluffy pillows, but you can’t fathom sleeping in it at the moment. 

“You realize that we can’t sleep here, right?” you say, staring down at your feet.

The dark-haired knight is busy rummaging through his rucksack, only half paying attention to what you’re saying.

“I don’t see why not. The bed is big enough.”

He’s right; it’s a king-size, and the two of you would have no problem fitting. Still, the thought of sleeping in a bed with him makes your face warm in a way that can’t be blamed on the fire.

“...There’s only one,” you manage.

Kinich looks up at you, deadpan. “An astute observation. Maybe you’ll be able to count to three by next year.”

“You little—”

The nervousness turns to irritation at his nonchalance—honestly, the thought of sharing a bed with a man you aren’t married to seems a bit inappropriate. And though you won’t admit it, you’re a bit offended that he doesn’t seem even slightly nervous to sleep with you. Kinich isn’t a nervous person by nature, that’s true; it takes quite a bit to get him to show any sort of strong emotion. But a small part of you is disappointed that he doesn’t seem to care about the situation at all.

“You realize it’s just us, right?” you say, urging him toward the root of the issue. Even just stating that fact makes an anxious lump form in your throat.

Kinich considers your words for a moment, pausing his ministrations, before meeting your gaze directly.

“I’m not going to do anything to you,” he says, raising a brow. 

The implication makes your face heat up, and you find it almost worse that he had addressed the elephant in the room.

“It’s not that!” you argue hastily. Kinich seems unbothered by your protests, fiddling with the intricate straps of his armor and the laces of his boots. He works about removing them in a fashion that’s so robotic that you’re sure he must’ve done this millions of times. 

“What is it then?” he retorts, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Do you snore?”

“I do not—”

“Sleep talk?”

“No, it’s just—”

“Sleepwalk?”

“No! But—”

“Great,” Kinich decides, clapping his hands together as if to end the discussion. Rising to his feet, he gestures to the bed, even going so far as to pull the blankets back invitingly. “Then sleep.”

It’s hard for you to win against him, especially at times like these—truth be told, you actually are quite tired. With a huff, you begrudgingly climb into bed, nearly hanging off the edge with the ample space you leave.

Kinich doesn’t join you yet; he’s still fixing his clothes and tidying his other belongings. He takes good care of his things, you’ve noticed, almost neat to a fault. There’s a strict routine he follows during the night; before bed, he always takes special care to maintain his weapon.

You watch as he oils and sharpens his blade, brow furrowed in concentration. He’s always been very particular about the thing, as if it was an extension of himself, as long as you've known him. His movements are notably precise and intricate, and overwhelmingly gentle. Lost in watching him, you just about jump out of your skin when his eyes suddenly flicker to you. 

“You know, most people rest with their eyes closed,” he hums, amused at having caught you in the act.

“You’re annoying,” you mumble, sinking deeper into the pillows to hide your embarrassment.

He shakes his head. “And you’re supposed to be sleeping. So I guess no one’s happy.”

You pull the blanket up until it brushes your chin. You don’t need it; your skin feels like it’s on fire, but somehow it feels too vulnerable to be uncovered right now. 

“You’re telling me you don’t feel weird about this? At all?”

He sets the sword aside and finally removes the last of his armor, simply left in his training tunic and loose pants. The shirt is tighter than you remember, you think briefly. You force yourself to look away.

“Should I?” he asks, brushing off his clothes. “Are you going to do something to me?”

The corner of his lip twitches, and you nearly roll your eyes—he amuses himself way too much.

“No!”

“Then we’ll make a deal. I won’t do anything to you if you don’t do anything to me. Then, we’ll both peacefully sleep so that I don’t have to deal with your crankiness in the morning.”

Irritatingly, he’s right about that too. The two of you will have to head out early if you want to make it home for your lessons, as well as Kinich’s other guard duties. And, truthfully, you don’t tend to be a morning person—it’s all Kinich can do to even wake you up on time.

You huff, shutting your eyes. “Fine.”

“Oh?” You can hear the mirth in his voice, and it only makes your irritation grow. “So you were planning on doing somethin—”

“I wasn’t!”

Kinich doesn’t say anything more, likely sensing that you’re on the precipice of genuine frustration—he always knows your exact limits, even when you don’t say so. 

For a few minutes, you really do try to sleep. But your heart is still pounding, and as much as you try to ignore it, it threatens to burst out of your chest. You reason that you would feel this way no matter who you were sharing a bed with—it’s just not a feeling that you’re used to. It’s certainly not because it’s Kinich.

You imagine him sleeping beside you, and your fists tighten until your nails form crescent-shaped imprints in your palms.

Definitely not because it’s Kinich.

Your stomach turns as you listen to your companion move around the room, organizing his things. Everything about him is so calm and quiet, including his footsteps—they’re barely a whisper across the floor. The anticipation nearly swallows you whole, and you wait for something to happen—the blankets to pull back, or even a dip in the mattress.

For several long, torturous minutes, nothing happens at all. In fact, you can’t even hear Kinich anymore, not even a single breath.

Did he leave the room? 

Gathering your courage, you silently will yourself to open your eyes, afraid of what you’ll see. It takes you a bit, too absorbed in the awkwardness, and three silent mental countdowns later, your eyes finally snap open. Instantly, you discover two things:

Kinich is not in bed with you.

Kinich is nowhere near you at all.

Instead, the knight is sitting across the room, back against the door, head leaned back and both eyes shut. His greatsword lays across his lap, fingers already curled around the grip—he’s always ready, as usual. 

“What the hell?”

You don’t mean for it to come out so loud or so aggressive, but your hand is too late to clamp over your mouth.

Kinich cracks one eye open, fixing you with a lazy stare.

“I thought you said you don’t sleep talk,” he murmurs, voice thick with exhaustion.

“I don’t—forget it, what are you doing over there?”

He sighs, pulling a knee to his chest and resting his chin on top. He looks much softer like this, in training clothes and lacking his headband—the curtain of his hair parts a bit as he leans over, and you catch a glimpse of the scar there. It’s thin and silver, barely peeking from his forehead.

“Unless I was mistaken, you seemed uncomfortable with the prospect of sharing a bed with me. I may not have been raised a prince, but even I wouldn’t force something like that on a lady.”

Your teeth sink into your lip. The explanation makes you feel stupid and guilty at the same time. Stupid, because you’re really not sure what you’re even afraid of if Kinich climbs into bed with you. Guilty, because you’d been so argumentative with him, even when he was trying to respect your wishes.

There’s three beats of silence.

“I changed my mind,” you manage to squeak out.

“You don’t have to,” he says, tracing the blade of his sword. An expected answer. “I’m fine sleeping here, really.”

And you know he really would be—he’s certainly slept in worse places. But something about him sleeping there while you warm up under thick blankets leaves a rotten taste in your mouth.

“Well, I’m cold now,” you say, shifting under the covers, “so can you come sleep?”

He looks unconvinced by your plea, head tilted. “Weren’t you the one who said it was too warm?”

You pout in reply. “I changed my mi—”

“—changed your mind, yeah, yeah, I get it.”

Kinich rises to his feet, slow and steady. He seems more tired than he lets on, likely the result of the events from earlier—he had been the one to deal with the bandits, after all. You merely watch as he strides toward you.

“Just remember, you’re the one who offered,” he warns, crossing to the other side of the bed. “So don’t kick me in your sleep.”

You don’t say anything at all, firmly fixated on staring at the wall—you don’t think you could stand to look at him right now. When the sheets get pulled back, you suck in a breath.

To your embarrassment, something warm draws up from your quick-beating heart as Kinich lies down behind you. You chalk it up to natural human reaction—you’ve never shared a bed with someone like this, after all. He’s gentle as he lays down, the mattress barely reacting to his movement. You squeeze your eyes shut as he adjusts, shifting the blankets and pillows, hoping he won’t sense your overwhelming nervousness.

“This okay?”

You chance a look in his direction. His eyes are half-lidded, heavy with sleep, but they seem to pierce right through you. He’s being very particular about the distance between you—close enough that you can feel a bit of his warmth, but far enough that none of your limbs are touching.

This is fine, you think to yourself, drawing in a long, slow breath. This is totally fine.

You nod meekly, and Kinich sighs, shuffling into a more comfortable position as you turn away.

“Good,” he murmurs, warm breath pooling at the back of your neck. It makes you shiver, somehow both relaxed and on-edge, even as he curls slightly closer to you. “Go to sleep then, Princess.”

He’ll be awake for a while, you know. He never goes to sleep before you do—even once you do, it’ll probably be another half an hour before he follows suit. The thought leaves you hyper-aware of his every breath.

So, for the next fifteen minutes, you lie awake, hopelessly thinking of the man laying next to you. And, for the next fifteen minutes, he lies awake too. Your mind grows foggy, begging for rest, but you still feel something tugging at your chest. You wonder if Kinich feels the same way.

“Kinich?” you finally whisper.

There’s a pause, like he’s deciding whether to reply seriously or to scold you for not sleeping. His voice comes out hoarse, a deep rumble from his chest.

“Yes, Princess?”

A yawn crawls out of your throat.

“...are you warm enough too…?”

Your voice trails off as you finally succumb to the clutches of sleep. Kinich listens as your breathing turns to an even rhythm, calm and serene. For once, he’s glad that you’re not looking at him—if you did, you would see the way his skin is flushed a deep red, from his ears to his neck.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, letting his eyes flutter shut. “I am.”

[ssspringroll]

the power...

[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 2

<-former chapter ~ AO3 link ~ next chapter-> I will block any ageless blogs. Call of duty. Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. wc: 6181.

Farmer!John Price x Hybrid!Reader, hybrid! Kyle Gaz Garrick x hybrid! Johnny Soap MacTavish x hybrid! Simon Ghost, John Price x Nikolai.

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

Author's note: reminder that reader is kinda a bitch at some points, thinking mean, unjustified things about our 141 once in a while. Unreliable narrators, my sinner. Apologies for any grammatical errors , the bad russian and such. So uh, this got waaay longer than intended so here you go. It will be a couple of days before the next chapter, so enjoy this snack for u all, my sinners.

chapter 2: Delivery from the Hybrid's Den!

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“I have a friend coming over for a while,” John softly said next morning, hand resting on your head, fingers stroking your long ears now and again,, “to help us with getting the boys settled.”

You were on the floor, half way beneath the kitchen table, snuggled up against Price’s leg, feeling much more needy, knowing the ‘boys’ as your owner called them, would be delivered later today or tomorrow. They needed to be chipped and Price had asked for a full health check from his vet, as well as vaccinations and dental care. John was a caring owner; the mere fact that he did this from the get go was proof of that. He had done the same when getting you, made sure that any recent wounds or scarring were taken care of - getting your teeth fixed and your nails checked.

You didn’t have much of your fangs left when he got you; your earlier owners had taken those, the memories still haunting you once in a while. They had done it without anesthesia, not even by professionals. Same with your claws, that wasn’t beneath your nails anymore, thanks to former owners as well. Price had gotten the wounds cleaned and fixed up; they had almost grown closed by now. For most of the time that you lived with John, he had made sure your nails were always done nicely, however you wanted them.

John was a good master. You loved him, more than you knew you should, desperate for his attention, acknowledgment and praise. You didn’t want to share him, not with these hounds he had decided to get…

… not with this apparent friend.

You didn’t answer with anything but a displeased sound, tightening your grip on Price’s pants; when he offered you another piece of sausage you were quick to eat it, licking at his fingers while he chuckled. For a moment your tail wagged, eating the food and pressing against his hand.

He couldn’t be serious - abruptly changing so many things? and you were just supposed to accept it? Finally, you replied.

“Do I know your friend?” You didn’t bother to seem excited in any way, your skepticism seeping into your voice like poison. Price took another sip of his tea, not commenting on it.

“You’ve met him before but it’s been years. First year I had you, I reckon. Remember Nikolai?” 

Nikolai. Nikolai. Different faces flashed for your eyes, trying to pinpoint who you had met that bore that name. 

“No,” you finally admitted.

“Can’t blame you, lass. You were a little mess when you met him.”

You let out a huff at his words, embarrassment making your toes curl. It was true, your mind was muddled when it came to the first half year or so together with Price. You had been wary of every single person, desperately acting out and having to wear a muzzle, slowly getting used to the gentleness and rules of John. How he was fair and didn’t change his rules, didn’t punish you without reason.

You heard the front door open, ears peeking up a little, a small bark leaving you on instinct.

“‘Morning,” Laswell called out, making you settle again with a huff. While Laswell was strict and sometimes a meanie, she wasn’t a threat. Only to you and John’s private time.

“Good morning,” John called out, “I’ve made coffee.”

“Ugh if I wasn’t a lesbian I would marry you,” Kate groaned happily, by now so comfortable with John that she simply moved to take a cup in the cupboard, helping herself to the coffee and some food. They had known each other when younger, that was all you knew. Their stories always changed when you asked.

“Morning puppy,” she greeted, leaning over to give you a small pat that you leaned into, tail wagging once more, “are you going to misbehave again today?”

“Hopefully not,” John hummed, picking up his tea cup once more, “Nikolai is arriving in a couple of hours.”

“Ah, your old crush,” Laswell mused happily as she sat down across the table, once again making you wonder how long they had known each other, “going to pull yourself together this time?”

Wait. Crush… crush? Your head whipped up to look at your owner and oh fucking hell, John fucking Price was blushing. You huffed, clearly not pleased at all with this new knowledge.

Wonderful, wasn’t that just fucking wonderful? Now he was going to abandon you fully, to run around being a lovesick puppy and playing with the new hybrids.

“Don’t tease me,” John answered, clearly embarrassed, a rare sight indeed, “that’s none of your business.”

Kate just laughed. You let out a grumble, trying to snuggle even closer to Price, practically clinging to his leg by now. Price returned his hand to your head, petting you once more, looking down at you. You returned his gaze, doing your best puppy eyes, letting out a little whine. He smiled at you, his other hand scratching you beneath your chin.

“It’s been years,” he mused and you were pretty sure that he wasn’t even talking to you, “he had to return to Russia. His mother passed away.”

Russia? A memory appeared in your mind. A small party. Champagne, treats. Praise from Price’s friends and colleagues, attention and love that you had basked in. Other hybrids that sent you longing and lustful looks. A tall, broad man with a loud laugh and a strong accent. Wearing a gold chain. Long hair, rough hands when he scratched you. He would almost make your owner shy with his teasing but he would shower you in love.

“Did I meet him at a party once?” You asked, “big guy, strong accent ? Wearing a gold chain?”

John laughed, “yes, that would indeed be Nikolai.”

Huh. It was not much you could remember about him. You remembered liking him, but despite that, you weren’t really interested in him getting here.

“He is going to help with Soap, Ghost and Gaz,” John then said, almost as if to convince himself that was why he was here. You rolled your eyes at their names. Not that you had any say, you were usually just called different pet names, but you no longer bore the name your mother had once given you. It wasn’t unusual for pets to get their names changed with every new owner. Your legal hybrid name, with John, was Daisy, even though the man rarely ever called you that. He called you so many other names, Princess, Darling, Sweetheart, Birdie and so on. But apparently he had decided not to change these working dogs’ names.

“Sure,” Kate answered with amusement in her voice, taking another sip of the coffee before adding, “whatever you say.”

Price didn’t answer with anything but an annoyed grumble.

“Those are stupid names,” you muttered. A sharp tug on your ear made you yelp, one of your hands grabbing onto his wrist to get him to let go of your furry ear. 

“Be nice, Princess. You’re going to behave, am I understood?” You didn’t meet his eyes, a little whine merely escaped from you.

“She just needs to be shown her place,” Laswell carefully said, John not letting go of your ear, much to your dismay, but he didn’t tug on it - just kept it there as a warning, “maybe they’re better at that.”

“Hopefully they’ll be better at it than me,” he muttered and you whined - the grip didn’t loosen and he didn’t look down at you.

“Nikolai is going to help with that too?” 

“He had ideas, at least.”

Fucking wonderful.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Nikolai was the first of the four men that you already hated, to arrive. 

You stayed inside the house, watching John appear from one of the stables, almost lighting up at the sight of the man who exited the car.

He still looked like the old memory you had of him; big, long black hair and a grin on his face. He was taller than John but not by much, Almost seeming completely opposite to your owner. While John wore working clothes, a grey T-shirt beneath his blue flannel, dirt on his pants, Nikolai was wearing a pair of blue jeans, white T-shirt and leather jacket.

Even inside the house, you could hear the booming man that was Nikolai - he greeted your owner with a loud “John!”, before hugging him, even spinning him around. You couldn’t help but stare; John was far from small but the other man had swung him around like he had been a teenage girl. 

John was blushing like one too. The sight made you curious - just like you wondered how he and Kate met, you wondered how this Nikolai met your owner.

You couldn’t help but wag your tail at how happy they looked. Despite how you hated the idea of the man staying here, even just for a little while, you liked seeing John happy like this.

Then two pairs of eyes suddenly looked directly into the window, both staring at you. It made your ears tip back a little. Your tail kept wagging, eating up the attention. 

When they moved, you moved too - rushing towards the entrance, stopping in the doorframe to the living room. 

“My my, if it isn’t the famous puppy,” Nikolai mused, his Russian accent strong, eyes almost twinkling as he looked you up and down, “up to trouble, da?”

You huffed, crossing your arms, though you felt your tail betray you by wagging a little, “I’m never up to trouble.”

Both of the men laughed, making you growl a little. 

“Unruly - just like last time I met you!” Nikolai mused, looking over at John by his side, “you gave up on training?”

John shook his head, “don’t even get me started, mate.”

“You told enough over phone,” Nikolai answered, waving his hand at John while pushing his shoes off with his feet.

Ah. So he had talked about you with Nikolai already? The fact made you scrunch your nose a little. Maybe Nikolai was just as stupid as John when it came to realizing why you were upset.

Nikolai stepped into your personal sphere with no warning, almost backing you up against the door frame, making you panic and growl a little. Tail no longer wagging - you could see John tense up in the corner of your eye, but you were too distracted by the stranger.

“Nik—“

A part of you expected him to hit you - you had met plenty of strangers with your former owners, who didn’t even let you sniff their hand or anything. Some hurting you and —

He offered his hand. It didn’t hit you, but raised to your nose instead. You squinted at him, before taking a couple of sniffs, still not quite sure what to make of him.

“Don’t like you,” you growled in warning, showing your teeth a little, not even attempting to be polite. 

“You don’t like farm life yet, puppy?” He asked, tipping his head to the side, voice demeaning, stupid smile still on his face. You wanted to slap it off his face. “Stupid little puppy.”

Instead you chomped down on his hand, Price instantly scolding out your name, moving to drag you away. But Nikolai didn’t even flinch - didn't move besides laughing again. 

It made both you and John confused.

“If you want to hurt me, you would have to bite harder, Princess,” Nikolai crooned, “now let go.”

You wanted to piss in his shoes and rip his socks to pieces. Maybe scratch up that leather jacket of his. Yet you found yourself letting go of him, your teeth barely even having made a dent in his skin.

“Get your ass into your room,” John hissed, a redness in his skin that you weren’t sure came from embarrassment or anger from your action.

“No harm done, John,” Nikolai laughed; he scratched you behind your right ear, just a tad to the left and it was like your brain melted for a couple of seconds, your body reacted on its own, tail wagging and right leg moving as well, “she just attempt to be dangerous no?”

John let out a small sound that you weren’t sure  what to make of before he grabbed you by the collar and dragged you away from Nikolai, “and that’s the kind of behaviour I don’t want.”

“He was being mean,” you whined in self defense, unable to not follow the hand dragging you into the living room, “he almost dared me to!”

Perhaps an overstatement, but you already knew what was going to happen the moment that Price pushed you over the armrest of the couch, “I bit him to defend myself!”

“You will not, and I repeat myself, not bite my guests,” he pulled up your skirt and down your panties with such a quick movement that you didn’t get to point out that you didn’t care, one hand grabbing your tail; his other hand collided with your ass cheeks, once, twice and then a third time, before he snapped out, “got it?”

A defiant bark left you, because while you knew it was bad behavior, you also wanted to prove that you weren’t afraid of this Nikolai. You twisted a little, knowing your ass and pussy was basically on display for both men. 

The grip on your tail tightened making you cringe with pain, jaw tensing.

“Apologise.”

You shook your head in defiance, ears hitting your face. Price leant over you a little, hissing out, “I would advise you to apologize, princess. Now.”

A part of you knew he was upset because he liked Nikolai. If he actually had feelings for him, as Kate had pointed out and several things pointed towards, you knew he wouldn’t like being embarrassed too much. Your ass still stung a little.

You were the actual victim here, weren’t you? It wasn’t your fault he decided to change everything you loved and then accept that he had his lost love over, who immediately tried to push your buttons.

“‘m sorry,” you mumbled after two seconds.

“Louder.” John demanded, straightening up, so that you were no longer hidden.

"I'm sorry."

There was silence for a moment - then the sound of a lighter and as you dared to glance over at the bigger man, who was leaning against the door frame, you saw him staring right back at you, a lit cigarette now between his lips.

“Is okay, Lapochka.” He said, stupid smile still on his face.

With that John finally let go off your tail, pulling up your underwear and your skirt down, ignoring your whine. He didn’t even touch your pussy! Didn’t even give you some love!

You pouted as you looked over at them, sliding down from the armrest of the couch, hands going beneath your skirt to rest against your warm skin on your cheeks.

“Sorry Nik,” John once again apologized - as if it was him who John had just spanked! The audacity! You let out a little displeased bark.

“She usually doesn’t bite people,” he continued as he ushered Nikolai as if you weren’t right there, needing love and attention.

“Is okay,” Nikolai answered with a shrug, casting one last glance over at you, smirking for just a second, “some of it was my fault - wanted to see what she would do.”

Asshole.

“Room, princess - now.”

“But he literally ju—“

“I said now.”

“You’re being so fucking mea—“

“Crate then.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” You might have slammed the door to your room, growling as you plopped down on your big fuzzy dog bed. 

It was about 30 minutes later than you dared to wander from the room to the kitchen again, standing in the doorway, watching the two men talk. Eyes moved to watch you again, as you whined and got on your knees. crawling to the two men, shamefully settling between Price’s legs on your knees - tail carefully wagging, sending your owner a pitiful glance.

“‘m sorry,” you whimpered, knowing John was easy to sweeten up, “‘m sorry, sir.”

A hand moved down to scratch you, though it wasn’t John’s-  you carefully licked his hand, a pleased rumble leaving the guest.

“Smart one,” he muttered, giving your cheek a little pinch, “knows how to be sweet, da?”

“Always,” John answered, looking down at you with his usual loving eyes, “soft lass is hard  to stay mad at.”

“Perhaps you need some more company,” Nikolai pointed out, “I worked with military pets before, they’re much different than you, milaya.”

“We don’t need them,” you whined, having no idea what Nikolai had just called you, “John will forget about me, will be too busy, he –”

John’s foot ever so gently pushed against your stomach, “don’t start that again.”

“Just insecure,” Nikolai suggested, making you huff.

“Am not,” you argued, but you still nuzzled closer to John, starting to move your hands to his inner thighs, moving to look up the best you could, looking from under the edge of the table, sweetening your voice a little, “It’s just a mistake, that’s all.”

“Spoiled, that’s what you are, darling,” John pointed out, but he still reached out to gently pat your head, “however, the boys will be here in a couple of hours and there is nothing you can do about it.”

You whined pitifully at his words, upset that your clear dissatisfaction with them joining the farm wasn’t clear. It was like John didn’t want to realize at all that he didn’t need to stay out on this farm. He needed to go back to the city, to the fancy penthouse apartment, to the parties that lasted out to the late hours of the night, where you could gossip with all the other hybrids.

“Milaya,” Nikolai repeated again, rustling with something in his jacket that hung over the back of the chair he was currently sitting on, pulling a little package from it. You watched curiously, though trying to seem disinterested. That was until he opened it and the most wonderful, mouthwatering scent you had smelled in a while appeared and you instantly moved from between John’s legs to Nikolai’s, making your owner chuckle.

The piece of jerky looking meat that Nikolai held in between his thumb and pointer finger, looked simple but oh the smell of it made it known that it was good.

“You behave and let us look through papers now, da?” 

“Yes,” you said, unable to look away or stop your tail from wagging, “I’ll behave.” 

The moment Nikolai offered you the piece, you were on it, barely missing his fingers with your teeth as you stole it from his grip. Nikolai was chuckling, putting the bag back into his jacket, while you chewed, a pleased moan leaving you as you settled beneath the table. 

Hopefully these mutts would prove themselves too difficult - so that John would send them away again. You would happily wave goodbye to them. 

With the sweet aftertaste of the meat in your mouth and their soft voices discussing fences, you closed your eyes.

You weren’t going to help with the pack settling in - that was for sure.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You barely got used to your owner’s crush, before there were once again new things happening. Kate appeared, greeting Nikolai like an old friend as well. You hadn’t figured out much about the man, other than he had worked with a lot of hybrids throughout the years. And with helicopters. However that all fit together, you didn’t know… didn’t really care.

The big truck that arrived a couple of hours later, stood out against the farm houses; a colorful logo was painted on the otherwise steel gray vehicle.

THE HYBRID’S DEN! helping owners find their perfect hybrid pet since 1960!

You remembered seeing their logos everywhere when you were sold to the auction, years ago. The auction houses and facilities had often felt like an intermission from your former life to your new; never knowing what was going to happen, treated with the minimal care, but kept healthy enough for the auctions. 

The staff wore the colorful logo on their black uniforms, exciting the truck a few moments later. You almost wanted to tell them to ‘get the fuck back into that truck and drive off’ again, but you figured it wouldn’t result in them actually doing so.

You kept your distance, standing on the steps of the front door - strategically keeping Nikolai between you and the closed metal crates that were inside the truck. There were nothing more than a few air holes in the boxes, from where some different sounds appeared. Barks and a growl or two, though they all sounded a little slurred. Nikolai moved, giving you a better look at them, as he joined John who was nodding along to some of the information, while looking through and signing some papers. Though you were mostly distracted by the crates, you could hear some of their conversation, catching words like sedated, muzzles, stressed. Your own trip hadn’t been nice either but a part of you wanted to point out to your owner that this only proved your point of this being a bad idea.

Some of the auction workers helped move the crates to one of the bigger empty sheds that Price had apparently been renovating without your knowledge. So apparently not so empty any longer. Not that it had been hard to do that, you ignored most of the different renovating and building jobs that both John and the helpers did.

Still… he could have told you. God, did your master tell you nothing anymore? It didn’t really help your mood, your growing annoyance clearly amusing for Nikolai if his smiles back at you were anything to go by.

Despite your repeated frustration with this entire situation and these new hybrids’ mere existence, you followed along inside the shed. It was nice… Isolated, with a tiny bathroom, an area padded with mattresses, which was clearly for them to sleep together, pillows, blankets… you wanted that too. Sure, you had loads, but this only made you want more, want more from Price, so that he could prove he still loved you. 

There was a radiator, several windows, lamps and electricity outlets. You scrunch your nose with displeasure. They didn’t deserve that. At least they weren’t inside the main house. 

There was a little notch in the other corner opposite the bed area, almost like a tiny expansion, another door next to it; it was almost like a small horse stall - a deep layer of hay covered the floor. You didn’t even step into the place, but you knew the hay would itch.

You wanted it. Not the itching of the hay, but the entire place, simply for the sake of having it, so that they couldn’t. Speaking of them, you watched from the main entrance as the metal boxes were opened.

The Belgian malinois and German Shepherd mix was the first one to stumble out of the box; he fell two steps later, directly into the hay, a deep sigh leaving him, eyes darting around. You could barely see him from the amount of people inside the stall. 

“It’s alright, Gaz,” Price comforted, while you stayed in the door, keeping his distance to the hybrid, “You’re okay, boy.”

Gaz didn’t answer, just panted a little, ears tipped backwards - his eyes looked a little blown from what you could see.

“When will the sedatives wear off?” Laswell asked one of the workers, but you didn’t look at them, eyes instead at the other hybrid. 

When you had arrived, you had been scared and angry, drugged as well. But you had been alone. While you grew up with your parents, in a nice enough place, you hadn’t seen them for years - and while you had befriended a lot of other hybrids throughout the years, you had never been a part of a “pack”. You were alone — but this Gaz wasn’t and a part of you envied him, even for that.

“In an hour or two,” the worker replied, pulling you from your deeper thoughts, “they weren’t too happy to settle down before we left. It was necessary.”

A small bark left the man in the hay. It was answered by the two other hybrids, who still hadn’t come out of their respective boxes. Nikolai gently tapped on the top of one of the boxes with a knuckle.

“Come join your friend,” the Russian suggested, voice not as loud as earlier.

A moment later the border collie mix, Soap, crawled out of his box, eyes instantly on Gaz, letting himself lay halfway on top of the other. A little growl leaving him, muffled from behind the mask. Not even a second later, Ghost got out of the last crate. The Great Pyrenees almost got on his legs, growling despite the muzzle and swaying from the drugs.

You watched the staff pull back the metal boxes, letting the hybrids get some space. Ghost didn’t stay on his legs for too long, eventually sitting down next to his pack mates, the lower half of his face hidden from view as he looked around the shed.

His gaze stopped at you; you were unable to sense the reaction from seeing you again, if there even was any.

“We’ll let you have some minutes, okay? Then we’ll take the muzzles off.” John gently offered, pulling the giant from the moment, so that he looked away, giving Price a small nod. Your owner was at the edge of the hay filled area but he didn’t step into it.

You stepped back, letting the staff members from the auction pull away the boxes, Laswell and another farm worker helping them. Nikolai looked from the pack, then over his shoulder at you, barely even trying to hide a smile.

Then he winked. You sent him an unimpressed look back, tipping your chin up a little, looking away from the three hybrids in the hay, pretending you weren’t curious about them.

Some more rustling in the hay and then a half croaked, “mah held hurts,” left Soap, voice a little slurred - you couldn’t help but look over at him. His accent was weird. His ears were tipped down, some hay already stuck in his hair. With the pathetic look on his face you didn’t understand how he was supposed to be a big bad soldier.

You weren’t being petty at all.

“It’s the sedatives,” John calmly answered the hybrid, who let out a big breath from behind the muzzle.

“If I take the muzzle off, will you behave?”

“We have water for you,” Nikolai added, keeping his distance - you kept him in between you and the dogs, not risking anything. You trusted the men to be able to defend themselves. But with no claws or fangs, you weren’t a fighter - more a runner. Even if you didn’t like running.

The two muzzled ones, Soap and Ghost, sent each other a look - but it was Gaz, half hidden beneath Soap, who let out a tired “please.”

Ghost gave a small nod then. John stepped into the hay, unhurried as to not spook them, and it was Ghost who tipped his head down first to let Price open the lock with a small key. The moment he was free, he smacked his cracked and dry looking lips. 

Clearly, the man had never heard of chapstick.

Though, much more apparent, where the colony of scars on his lower half of the face. Trailing from around the lips, one over the nose as well - cheeks and chin. As he smacked his lips, you saw he had lost a fang in the bottom of his mouth. It wasn’t just sanded down like yours, the tooth was fully missing.

Price repeated the action with Soap, the hybrid instantly opening his mouth wide with a yawn, his jaw even making a popping wound.

Nikolai appeared with three bottles of water from a little cooler in the shed - you didn’t have your own cooler, which meant you would be demanding one… not that you needed it but still — giving the hybrids each one, that was always immediately opened. Gaz pushed Soap away and sat up too, while John backed away.

“My name is John Price -we met shortly at the auction. I’m the owner of the farm and you will all answer to me. Got it?”

“Yes sir.” For a moment you were impressed with the three hybrids’ synchronized answers. Only a short moment however. They were probably just beasts trained to answer like that. Yeah, yeah, you could do that too, if you wanted. But you didn’t.

“This is Nikolai, my friend, he will stay with me for a while, helping you all to settle in properly. You will follow his orders too - as well as a mean looking woman, Kate Laswell, who will appear at some point.” Humour tipped into the last part making Soap snort and Gaz give out a half-slurred giggle, while Ghost just let out a grunt.

“And this,” Price suddenly turned over to you, looking a little amused from the distance you kept between all of them, “is my pet, Daisy.” 

“Well hellooo, bonnie lass,” Soap said, his tail immediately wagging, grinning at you, as he slurred, “aren’t ye a sight for sore eyes.”

Nikolai and John dared to laugh at his words, his rather pathetic attempt at being charming, while you growled, watching Soap get an elbow in the side from Gaz, while Simon just stared, almost differently than the scot, like a hungry beast. If you were fully inside the shed, you might be able to smell if they were turned on. Disgusting. 

“Come’ere, sweetheart,” John crooned, clearly pleased with the reactions from the men, while you scrunch your nose, tipping your chin up a little - giving it a shake to reject the command.

“Do not be like that, milaya,” Nikolai suggested, “thought you were going to behave, no?”

You just growled a little again, unable to help your tail go between your legs a little; you didn’t really want to be spanked again, but you didn’t really want to become acquainted with these hybrids either.

“My princess isn’t too pleased with you lot being here,” John calmly explained without taking his eyes off you - they were still all staring at you - as John raised a hand, making a ‘come-hither’ motion that had you swallowing some spit, “but she isn’t going to chase away any wolves, are ye, pet?”

You huffed, crossing your arms before stepping inside the shed. The scent in there was nice and clean, even with the vague scent of the newcomers, and you walked to John, stopping halfway hidden by him.

However, as John’s arm snaked around your soft waist in a strong grip, you whimpered as you were pulled forward a little, unable to hide behind him. Both Gaz and Soap were wagging their tails at you, while you tried ignoring the scent of the room the best you can.

“I’m expecting you all to get along - and not hurt each other too badly, understood?”

While the others answered in agreement you just hid your face in his shoulder, twisting a little in his grip.

“No playin’ too rough,” Nikolai added, “Puppy isn’t used to other hybrids.”

“I am!” you snapped, “Just not…”

The shed was quiet for a moment as you mulled over your next words. What to call them. Military dogs. Strays. Mutts, un –

“Not what?” Nikolai almost seemed entertained by your declaration and you looked away, before finally mumbling.

“... working dogs.”

Simon huffed. You shot him a sharp look that he didn’t really seem to be affected by, in any way.

“I’m sure you all will get along,” John just mused, before looking down at his watch, “A certain princess has become too bored now we’re no longer in the city -” he ignored your mutter of ‘have not’, “- and I can’t entertain her all the time. Mentally or sexually.” 

You whined with embarrassment, a little angry growl seeping into it, but Price didn’t really react, barely moved as you twisted in his grip, ignoring the grin of the several males in the house. 

“ - Now, I will leave you three to get acclimated a little. But, there are a couple of rules that I expect you all to follow, if not there will be punishments.”

Synchronized nods. You still twisted, digging your fingers into his arm to no avail - then a hand snagged onto your collar from behind, choking you shortly as you were pulled back, Nikolai pressing against your back. Now free, Price pointed to a little map over the area, that you hadn’t noticed on the wall.

“Your jobs will essentially be to help keep the place safe. We have had problems with wolves and foxes, and so has the neighbors, since there lives a bunch in the area. You three will help keeping them away and Soap will help around my sheeps and goats in particular, given you’re a herding dog–”

Soap nodded, tail wagging, all three dogs staring at the map intensely.

“- I will find other things for the two of you to help with as well, but your main focus will be on keeping the animals - and the rest of us - safe. One of the neighbors got some horses stolen not too long ago. I would like to avoid that as well.”

You didn’t even know that. What you did know, however, was the heat of Nikolai’s body behind you, keeping you close and tethered so that you couldn’t run off.

“Most of the wildlife will go away if intimidated, but at times you might need to attack them. I am not going to give you any firearms yet though,” John looked over at them, his voice  firmer than you usually heard it, “That will come along the way, if needed. We can discuss other weapons later on.”

The mere idea of John giving them any kinds of weapon made you want to throw up - or throw a fit. Had he gone fuckin’ mad?? giving them guns? They were going to shoot everyone, going to kill John and you. You really didn’t want to die.

“My farm includes these - and these fields. You will not and I repeat not, leave my land without a valid reason. There will be punishments if you do - you will all be given collars like another certain puppy–” all eyes watched you for a moment and though, you wanted to hide  your face in your hands, you didn’t, merely crossed your arms, ignoring the low laughter from Nikolai behind you, “that are fitted with trackers, so I will know if you do.”

Great. So hoping for them to run off wasn’t a possibility for now.

“Biting or attacking my staff in any way will result in severe punishments. You will lose privileges if you don’t do as told, without a valid reason. Is that understood?”

“Yessir.” 

“Good boys. Now, these upcoming days you will most likely be following me or Laswell around, while we get you in on all these. All dinners will be eaten in the main house and you will be given keys once I get them made one of these upcoming days. I will give you a couple of hours now –” Price looked down at his wrist watch, “Then call you in, an hour or two before dinner, so that you all can shower. Any injuries, allergies or anything that the Hybrids’ Den didn’t write down, that I need to know?”

They all shook their heads, behaving like synchronized swimmers in your opinion. 

“Good. You’re all free to relax here or explore the farm if you wish so, when the drugs wear off.” 

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

As you entered the farm house, you shrugged off your jacket and abandoned your shoes in the entrance, not caring to clean up after you, ignoring John’s irked huff.

“Insane!” you declared, walking further into the house, “You’ve gone insane! You’re all going to forget about me and those horny knotted mutts will be all up in my business!”

You flopped down on the couch, face first, continuing your ranting into the fabric.

“I might as well barricade myself inside my room - Because I dont have a tiny house!! but guns! SURE ! give them guns!” Your voice was muffled, but you were, perhaps a tad dramatically, loud in your ranting. You could just make out whispering between the two men but you didn’t care… not until you were forced to, quite literally.

“Little puppy,” Nikolai’s accent was heavy - his body even heavier as he settled on the back of your thighs, a fist coming to rest next to your head, that kept his full body weight from you, “Throwing a fit again, da?” 

You could feel the slight bulge against your fat ass, making you swallow - and tail wag, hitting Nikolai against the thighs, making the man chuckle. John as well, who settled down with a cigar in one of the arm chairs opposite the couch. You didn’t even need to look to know that he watched as Nikolai tugged at your skirt.

[changisworld]

“Are you being serious?”

Fuckboy!hyunjin x reader

Word count;8,001

Summary: You & Hyunjin are finally moving into a positive direction, finals are now here though so you are both trying to focus on that, meaning you both can’t spend so much time with each other unless you both want to go insane. You tell your lecturer how well your assignments are going & he gets the bright idea to let you tutor someone in your class who is struggling a lot & is in desperate need of help… that being Hyunjins friend, Han Jisung.

18+, MDNI, SMUT WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT.

main masterlist here

part 1 here & part 2 here

ALL WARNINGS: Jealous Hyunjin, Jealous reader, Possessive Hyunjin, voyeurism??, recording, spit, creampie, fingering, oral(m rec), body worship, PIV, unprotected sex, marking, begging, dirty talk, praise, angst & fluff, crying after sex, brief aftercare (more happens off screen), soft hyunjin

-> reader is described as Hyunjins girlfriend & 'she/her' pronouns are used a few times but its brief<3

->This isn’t proofread so if there’s any errors i apologise mwah x

In the month running up to finals, you have been absolutely drowned in assessments & of course you need to pass, so for that reason, you n Hyunjin haven't spent as much time together. You do both study together every once in a while but you work a lot better on your own & he respects that, leaving you to it as he studies in his own free time.

You have both been doing well in the sense your feelings have grown for one another but college is still the same, Hyunjin still being the bubbly person, sitting with his large group of friends while you sit further at the back, but to give him credit he does openly choose to work with you for random partner tasks (which half of the girls in the same course a you now resent you for) & he brings you a drink at least once a day.

You've just submitted one of your last essays (which you're proud of of course) & now you can relax a whole lot more than you were before... until your lecturer asks you if you would like an extra few credits.

You of course say yes, knowing it will definitely help if for some reason you get marks taken off for your other grades, not thinking it would be too hard to complete, that is until he tell you what you need to do.

"Jisung has been really struggling y/n, you can really help him & I know you can since you've never had below a ninety. Don't feel pressured please, but I'm sure he would really appreciate it." He says to you, giving you a pleading look.

You sigh before just nodding your head, not wanting to let your professor down, but also don't want someone in your class to fail simply because you couldn't be bothered to help him.

You know he's really good friends with Hyunjin, him mentioning a few times & they have always sat beside one another, loving to piss off everyone around them. You know he doesn't take anything too seriously but you would feel more guilty if you didn't at least try.

"Thank you y/n. I'll be sure to tell him when I next speak to him one on one. I'll see you tomorrow & I'll have him come talk to you, if he gives you a hard time though by being an idiot, don't be afraid to stop helping him, you're not being forced." He says to you in a cheery voice as he fixes his papers, messy all over his desk. You say your goodnights to each other & you leave the building, making the short journey home.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ::✼✿　　✿✼:ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You get home & of course Hyunjin is already waiting for you, Tuesdays being the one day a week you promises you would spend time together, regardless of the busy schedules.

"Took you long enough, thought you had fell asleep in the damn hall. What was it he was talking to you about? I'd rather swallow a whole potato in one go than waste my time talking to that guy outside of hours, that guy hates me." Hyunjin questions, not looking up at you for more than a second as he stirs the pasta he is cooking for the both of you.

" He hates you because you made that mans hair go grey with the stress you've causes him n trust me, I almost did, we were talking about how I'm preparing for finals, he also asked me to help one of your friends with a whole lot of it." you sigh as you kick your shoes off & putting your bag on the coat peg hung up on the wall, on the tiny bit of free space that Hyunjins multiple jackets & hoodies now clogging up.

"Really? wait taste this, n who is it? Half my friends are dumbasses so you've got your work cut out, good luck to ya." Hyunjin jokes as he holds up the wooden spoon to your lips, his other hand underneath the spoon to catch any droplets.

You taste it n let out a hum of approval which makes him smile before turning around to continue stirring a few more times before going into your cupboard to grab two plates. "Your friend Jisung! I'm surprised he asked me out of all people, I've only had one actual conversation with him n that was during freshers, I only remember because he was wearing those glasses of his & kept bursting out into song randomly." you chuckle as you recall the memory, getting you both a glass before going into your fridge to grab the bottle of prosecco you bought yesterday just for this occasion.

Hyunjin stops his movement for a second before replying with a 'mhmm' & you don't think too much of it, grating some cheese before putting it on the coffee table in your living room rambling about random stuff, but his mind doesn't move. "So about Jisung, did you say yeah to helping him?" he asks, setting both of your plates down on the small table before grabbing two cushions off your couch n placing them on the floor, patting it for you to sit down next to him.

"Yeah, I agreed because I've only got a few more things to do n I'll be finished, I'd feel guilty for saying no, I can't let him just fail the entire course because I couldn't be bothered you know? If what you're worried about is that I won't have time for you, you're wrong, I'll still be seeing you on Tuesdays regardless." You reply in an your usual tone, giving Hyunjin a peck on the cheek as you thank him for the pasta before picking up your fork & taking a bite.

"Jisung.. Isn't someone you wanna try teach, It's a waste of your time, you should probably pass on the offer. You should help me! I'm sooo stuck on the power point." he responds, his voice monotone, trying to hide how pissed he actually is.

"Hyune, we both know you're not struggling, you only have like two more things to do so stop being silly, n besides, I get a few extra credits if I do it so it will be worth it." you say after swallowing a bite, looking at him & that's when you realise his body language, completely giving away the fact he is now in a sulk as he purses his lips at what you say, not verbally replying to you.

"Hyunjin, what's up with you, hmm? You were so happy when I got home, is something bothering you?" you ask him, putting your fork down. "It's just.. Jisung is just gonna try get in your pants y/n. I know what he's like, if he actually gave a fuck about this grade, he woulda tried way before now, he has a music career now so he doesn't even need college." he says, pointing his fork at you & swaying it around as he speaks, his voice serious despite him trying to sound unbothered.

You just look at Hyunjin, honestly confused on where this attitude has came from. "Just because he might have another career once he leaves, doesn't mean he doesn't wanna pass, Hyune. He won't 'get in my pants' I don't even know him or anything about him apart from what you've told me." a tinge of annoyance in your voice now, not at all liking what he has to say.

"Alright." he mumbles as he begins eating, not wanting to discuss it further so you ignore it, moving onto a different conversation, which makes his mood slightly better than it was before.

Hyunjin leaves an hour or so later, after helping you wash up & cuddling with you until you were dozing off. You give him a sheet of notes you had written earlier in that day just for him to help him with his own essays, changing the wording a whole bunch so he wouldn't accidentally write something similar to you have done, which he can't help but blush at the thoughtfulness. He leaves your apartment in the same mood when you first came home earlier on.

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You're walking to your morning class after grabbing a drink from the cafeteria when you hear someone calling your name from behind you over the music of your headphones, you turn around to see Jisung being the reason your name is being said, his dorky little smile looking back at you as he walks up to you.

"Hi y/n, in case you didn't know but I'm Jisung n I just wanna say thank you for helping me with all of this, means loads to me." he says, giving you an awkward chuckle as his hand rubs against the nape of his neck.

"Don't worry about it, just don't make it a waste of my time, I still need to do loads of my own stuff so I won't be waiting around for you." responding in a cold tone as you put your headphones on again before walking to your class.

You take your own unofficial seat & just go on your phone, not paying much attention to the things going on around you, blocking out the multiple conversations going on around you.

You look down to the right corner of the auditorium & notice Hyunjin isn't sitting in his own usual spot.

You; Where r u? u okay? Hyune<3: yea, just slept in lol, just take pics of what u write n i can use that, ill probs be in after break

You begin texting a response when the chair next to you is pulled out & someone sits beside you, you look to your left & Han is smiling at you, pulling his books out of his bag & placing them on the desk.

"Sir told me to come n sit beside you since he is helping yuna right now n he doesn't have time to re-explain it all to me. You still okay to help me, right?" He blurts out, looking at you with his boba eyes, you just nod your head & he smiles.

Jisung begins to show you where he's at on each part of the assessments he needs to do & shows you the very few notes he has actually been bothered to write down.

"You've only wrote this..? for an entire years worth of work this is all you have to help you?" yo snort as you hand back his notepad, your eyebrows raised. "I thought it wouldn't be this intense!" he responds, his voice whiney.

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You spend the next hour roughly explaining how to do the main parts of everything & you were writing down a few things for him since you realise he is a painfully slow writer, but you choose to hold your tongue since you think he is actually listening since he is actually asking you a question ever so often.

The time hits quarter past eleven so you grab your little blue money purse before standing up to leave for your break when Jisung moves his chair out so you can't leave. "Y/n, could I get your number or something? so I can text you.. about the work! of course." Han asks you as he stands up to face you fully.

"Awk yeah that would make sense, alright." you take one of your pens off the desk & open the cap before grabbing Jisungs hand before you write your number on it & then squeezing yourself past him, walking up the rest of the stairs to leave but he runs up to you again to begin walking with..well, behind you, ignoring his friends at the other end of the room shouting his name.

"Thanking you y/nnie, I can call you y/nnie right? anyways what's your plans for after college hours? Do you have a job you gotta get to? Any sorta clubs? I get the vibe you definitely are a part of... an art class. I woulda said book club but I feel as if that's too basi-" "You talk so much, holy shit. My plan is to finish what I need to finish tonight or tomorrow so I'll have time to actually help you" you cut off, rolling your eyes as you begin walking one of the common area benches, Jisung still trailing behind you.

You sit down & Jisung settles himself beside you, smiling at his friends whenever they walk past, talking your ear off as you just stare at him, not paying attention.

A minute later, You turn away from Jisung & lean your head against the wall in annoyance , Jisung now talking about how he lived in Malesia & almost got eaten by an alligator when your eyes scan the area & that's when you notice Hyunjin strolling towards you. You lean back upright & smile n wave at him & he smiles back, until Han pops his head out from behind you to see who you're waving at, your body no longer covering him from the way you're both sitting.

Hyunjin reaches you but doesn't sit down, instead standing in front of both of you. "Heya y/n, hi jisung, what you both talking about." Hyunjin says in a weird tone of voice, sounding slightly off standish. "Couldn't tell ya, sir didn't really go over anything new so I didn't write anything down to give you, he was just answering others questions, come sit." you say as you pat the spot beside you but he doesn't budge, feet staying glued to the floor, hi eyes moving to now look at the man sitting beside you.

"So if he was answering questions all day, why'd you not just ask him for help on what to do? Why are you putting more on y/ns plate?" Hyunjin spits to jisung, his facial expressions scarily neutral. "Because he would spend an entire day explaining it to me! I asked y/n a million times if it's fine n it's fine! y/n doesn't mind it." Han whines back, throwing his hands around & that's when Hyunjin notices your number drawn onto his hand.

Hyunjin looks at it then back at the both of you before scoffing. "Point is, you don't give a fuck about passing, I'm not stupid. I'll see you later." he speaks in the same cold tone, tapping your head condescendingly before walking away & down the hall out of sight.

"What the hell is his problem, he has such an attitude." you murur, mostly to yourself but Jisung responds anyway. "dunno, maybe stress." feigning innocence.

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Hyunjin walks into class, blood boiling. He sits on the opposite side than he usually does & puts his headphones on, basically throwing the items in his bag onto his desk before logging into his computer & pulling up his word document.

He doesn't look up at any of the noise around him, other students for some reason spending their break in the same room they've been sitting in for four hours now until someone taps his head before pulling his headphones off his head.

"Nice song, what's it called?" Lisa chimes as Hyunjin turns around, relaxing when he sees it's just her & not a random person trying to piss him off. "You're still on your essay? y/n handed hers in already, didn't your little girlfriend feel like helping you out?" she remarks, sitting on the edge of the desk, swinging her legs while she looks down at him.

"y/n.. isn't my 'girlfriend' so to speak n anyways, we both agreed to do it on our own since y/n concentrates better that way n i've learned that so do I, so if you could leave Lisa i'd like that." he responds, his tone sounding more rude than he intended.

"Who pissed in your cereal Hyunjin, jeez. That sucks, I'd love for you to help me, I'm further behind than I wanted to be, can I borrow your notes at least? & you sure y/n works better on her own? She was helping Jisungie a wholeeee bunch earlier." she speaks back, sweet toned, the smile not wiping off her face for even a second, picking up his notepad & flicking through it.

"Mhmm, just take it n give it back at the end of the day. I told y/n helping Jisung is a waste of time but sir n Jisung both wormed their way into her brain knowing she would feel too guilty for saying no, she didn't listen to me, she's too kind." he replies, not bothering to look up at Lisa despite feeling her eyes almost burning two holes into his side profile.

"Clearly not too kind if she can't listening to her own boyfriendddd" she teases, ruffling up his hair. "I told you, we aren't officially together, you taking my notes or no? I have stuff to do Lisa." he snarks as he finally actually looks up at her as she jumps off the desk, jotter in hand.

"I know, just wanted to hear you confirm the fact. I would ask you to send me the notes but you've blocked my number, y/n has you so bitched, didn't think I'd see the day." Hyunjin just rolls his eyes as Lisa says this but he sees you & Jisung walking back into the room, six or seven levels above & he gets an idea.

He rolls his chai out, blocking Lisas path as he looks up at her, a puzzled look on her face. "If you say please, I'll think about unblocking youuu." he taunts, his pretty smile showing on his face. Lisa looks up at you in your usual seat, noticing your quick glances down back at them, trying to not make it too obvious before looking back down at Hyunjin. "Pretty please, Jinnie?" she responds, battering her eyelashes as she ruffles his hair again.

He chuckles before moving out of the way, letting her past. As she leaves, he murmurs a 'next joke, fuck that' to himself, internally cringing at the conversation between them before pressing play on his spotify again & doing his work.

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The day finally ends & you are quick to get out of the room, not being surprised if steam was coming out of your ears with how pissed you are. You noticed Lisa & Hyunjin speaking & you were unable to concentrate from that moment on. 'Why was she touching him?' 'Why was he flirting with her?' 'what a fucking dick' keep bursting into your mind & you honestly want to punch them both in the face.

Hyunjin gets his notepad back from Lisa & walks away without saying much of anything to her, trying to catch up to someone in particular... Jisung.

He knows his schedule like the back of his hand & it doesn't take much walking or time to find him, sitting on a small ledge waiting for the main music room to be unlocked for him, Chris & Changbin, eating a packet of skittles, filling his chubby cheeks while just idly looking around.

"Heya Hyunjin, you alright?" He questions, pulling his legs closer to his chest so Hyunjin can sit down opposite him, which he does. "Been better, got a question for you though." he sighs, leaning forward to dig his hand into Jisungs packet & takes out a handful of skittles, dumping the green ones back into the packet.

"Go f'r it." he speaks, words muffled as he pours more into his mouth. "What you doing with y/n? I pretty much made it clear to stay away, so what is your problem? You coulda asked anyone to help you but I know you went to sir n specifically asked for y/n's help, you can't fool me I've known you too long." he questions, his voice sounding far too normal for it to be comfortable.

"You didn't tell me shit, n I'm not a toddler, what makes you think you can tell me what to do? You're not actually together together so why can't I simply speak to her?" he remarks, smirking at him knowing he is getting under his skin as he throws his empty food wrapper at the bin but missing, making him kiss his teeth.

Hyunjin scoffs at his words, in disbelief. "Han stop being a dick, y/n is mine n it's that simple so just fuck off, I've never told you to leave anyone fuck alone until now so just do it? It's not difficult believe it or not." Hyunjin snaps back, getting more annoyed as the clock ticks by, not bothering to keep his tone quiet as another student walks by every once in a while.

"Yea n we also agreed we wouldn't cockblock each other yet here you are, you guys aren't official which you said yourself so it's fair game. You can't claim someone if you're still flirting with your other little side pieces, me & y/n saw you n Lisa earlier. You seriously wanna get rid of everyone else you see for one person? Next joke." he replies, his voice raising at the end, honestly enjoying how pissed off Hyunjin is getting, his face getting more & more red.

"Lisa is literally nothing to me n yea-" Hyunjin is cut off as Changbin n Chan swivel around the corner, all smiles. "Heya Hyunjin, not seen you in ages, Jisung I got the key so we can go in now, you coming Hyun?" Chan questions as he turns his back to unlock the door.

"Nah, I'm busy n got things to do, I'll speak to you all later." Hyunjin replies, squishing Changbins cheeks playfully, trying to ease any tension the others are starting to sense, before walking off, his breathing intense as he leaves the building & pretty much speed walking home.

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He enters his complex building & storms up the multiple flights of stairs, skipping a step or two each time. He turns the corner & sees you sitting on his doormat, both of you making eye contact.

You stand up & wipe any dirt that could be on you as Hyunjin sighs, stopping in front of you as he moves one of his headphone speakers, not even bothering to fully pull them off.

"Are you gonna speak to me n tell me what's wrong with you Hyunjin?" You speak out, placing your hands on your hips. "Do you seriously not know what you've done? Give me a fucking break. Move, I want to get inside." he spits back before trying to worm his way around you but you stop him.

"Hyunjin what the fuck is your problem? I've done jack shit n yet you're treating me as if I'm an annoyance to you! I'm not leaving till I get an answer." you yell back, getting even more pissed at his attitude.

"I'm not even going to bother arguing with you, especially in my fucking hallway y/n, get inside." He spits out as he pushes your arm away & unlocks his door before entering, not bothering to shut it as he knows you're gonna end up following him.. which you do.

You shut his door behind you & chase behind him as he walks into his bedroom & throwing off his hoodie, not even acknowledging you as he does his usual routine.

"So you gonna explain or what? Also turn around when I speak to you, don't be so fucking rude Hyunjin." you utter, speaking to his back as he doesn't even bother looking at you.

"Got nothing to explain. You gonna tell me why you wrote your number on Jisungs arm when I specifically told you what he would be actually wanting from you & after telling you it would be a complete waste of time?" He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he turns around to look back at you, leaning on his desk.

You raise your eyebrows at him, not being able to hold back the shocked laugh at his words. "Are you being fucking serious? First of all Hyunjin, I'm not a kid that you can boss around n second of all, I only gave him my number so he can ask me about anything he needs & I'm basically finished everything I need to do for finals so I don't fucking care about helping your friend out a bit!" you yell back, your heart beginning to race.

"It's fucking obvious he was flirting with you y/n?! Are you really that naive to fucking see it? Sorry to be the one to tell you but it's true." he replies, swinging his arms around & pointing as he speaks.

"So fucking what if he was? It changes absolutely nothing since I'm not interested! But if you want to speak about flirting, you're a huge fucking hypocrite since you were basically drooling over Lisa earlier & you knew I was watching! Your attitude is disgusting & if you're acting like this when we aren't even official then what makes you think that is what I want? You're straight up immature." you shout, your voice going a bit raspy & your hands shaking.

"I did that because I was fucking hurt about what you were doing! & I know we aren't officially together but you haven't been acting as if you want to be with me! You don't even listen to me y/n when I know what the hell I'm talking about. I chosen you for me to actually try get into a relationship with but I'm thinking it's not worth it." he cries out, tears threatening to leave his eyes as he says this, shouting back at you.

"Are you trying to insinuate I'm 'lucky' to be in this position with you, get off your fucking high horse holy shit! I didn't flirt with Han at all but you can't say the same about you & Lisa, how am I supposed to trust you if you act like this over something so small? This isn't even fucking worth it Hyunjin, I'm not going to let you see me as if I'm beneath you." you respond, your voice going monotone at the end as you shake your head at him before turning around to leave, realising this conversation is getting nowhere.

Hyunjin is quick to step across his room & get between you & the bedroom door, blocking you from leaving. "When the hell did I say you're beneath me? Why can't you see how upset I am over all of this? I want to be with you in the future but you are just throwing it back in my fucking face? Do you just like the attention or something? Is that why you just straight up refused to listen to me?" he questions, looking right into your eyes with his own, his eyes being similar to how they looked when he came to your house & confessed to you not too long ago, but with anger mixed in along with them this time.

"You're fucking joking, right? What 'attention' am I getting other than you yelling in my face about it? Stop being such a jealous prick Hyunjin, the future isn't now so you don't have this 'claim' on me like you think you do, as much as I want it & how much you claim yo want to, we aren't fucking dating & you wanna know why I think you're trying to hold back? Is because you like the attention & you won't be able to fuck anyone else without it being considered cheating! Come back to me when you can sort your jealousy & other issues out." You scream at him, a tear or two falling down your cheeks but you're quick to wipe them away, not looking right at him as you speak.

Hyunjin cackles at our words before yet again stopping you from being able to leave, putting his hand on the door handle. "You speak so much stuff that you're convinced you know all about but you couldn't be so wrong it's honestly a joke. I don't want anyone else but you & I've made it so clear since the start, You expect me to not be jealous when someone is fawning over you.. what's mine? Acting as if your blood doesn't boil when anyone flirts with me? You being so pissed about Lisa is a prime example. Stop acting like you're any better than me, that you're not just as possessive over me, you just don't wanna seem like a psycho about it." He replies, his tone still full of venom but no longer yelling at you, tonguing his cheek.

"Why wouldn't I be jealous? I'm clearly threatened by all the girls who drool over you, even more so because I'm not similar to those girls, I'm not as confident or straight up ballsy as them! But the way you've gone about everything is so wrong Hyunjin." You cry, voice lowering to match his but the tears not fully stopping & he takes his finger to wipe them away, pouting.

"I'd be lying if I said you admitting you're jealous isn't hot, but stop fucking worrying, I wouldn't give you the time of day if I wasn't one hundred percent sure. Stop crying too, you don't need to. But being for real, y/n, sto-" He is cut off as your phone begins ringing in the back pocket of your jeans & Hyunjins arm is quick to swing around & pull it out before reading the nameless number, Hyunjin hands it to you with his eyebrows raised, already knowing who it is.

You answer the phone & It's obviously Jisung, who doesn't even give you time to say anything before asking you a whole bunch of questions, saying he is 'stuck' on what to do.

As Jisung speaks, Hyunjin taps the 'speaker' button before ushering you towards his bed, his smirk not leaving his face. You look up at him with confused eyes as the back of your knees hit the bed, making you sit on it before Hyunjin pushes on your shoulder so you're laying fully down, your feet still on the floor of his room before getting on top of you & moving your head to the side before nuzzling his face in your neck, beginning to nibble at it, making you tense up beneath him & your breath hitches.

"Jisung can I call you ba-" You're cut off by Hyunjin nibbling down on your neck as he mumbles a 'nuh uh' & your hand reaches up to pull on Hyunjins hair & he does his best to hold back a groan, his hand slithering down to your jeans, unbuttoning the button after around thirty seconds of trying & then using his hand & legs to push them down just far enough for acccess.

He begins to allow his finger to graze over the outside of your pussy, feeling the fabric of your panties, not failing to feel over the small wet patch now visible as he sucks a dark purple hickey into the crook of your neck & your eyes scrunch together as you bite your lip, trying to not make a sound.

"I did the first two paragraphs but I'm stuck on what quotes to use, I think the ones I've chosen are too short to keep writing about, what quotes did you choose?" Han questions on the other end of the phone but you're barely paying attention as the man above you now wriggles his fingers under your panties, now drawing small circles on your clit, making you gasp.

"You can't use t-the same quotes I use J-jisung, read what you've chose o-out to me." you stutter out, hips grinding against Hyunjins fingers as best as you can with the position you're in.

Jisung begins to read out his quotes & Hyunjin can't help but let out a small chuckle, half at how hard Han is trying but the other half being at how hard you're trying to remain coherent, so he steps up his actions. He cups your pussy before dragging his hand down to your dripping hole & entering two fingers in, a small squelch being heard & your legs tense up even more as you melt into his lips, still suckling hickey after hickey into your neck.

"Y/n? Am I breaking up? We can meet up if you want & you can go over it, I know a café we can meet at if you're free?" He requests & Hyunjin breaks away from you neck to reply for you. "y/n is busy, figure it out." he remarks as he hangs up before turning your phone off & tossing it to the side.

"Didn't know you're into that, y/nnie, you're so wet just from a few touches? So dirty." he remarks, smirking at you before locking his lips with yours, his tongue tasting your own before he even gives you time to respond & you bring your hands to cup his cheeks.

His fingers begin to hit against your G-spot as he uses a 'come here' motion as his thumb begins to rub your clit from side to side, making you whine into his mouth, making him smirk.

You move your arm down, dragging your nails down the front of him & over his abs over his shirt before beginning to palm his cock over his joggers, making his hips jerk forward before changing your position by rolling himself onto the bed & pulling you so you're straddling him, his fingers leaving your cunt as he does so, making you whince.

You begin grinding over his covered hard on after kicking your jeans fully off, you being left in just your shirt & panties. "Maybe you're the dirty one Hyune, can't resist touching me while your friend is on the phone hmm?" You finally have the chance to reply & Hyunjin chuckles as his hands come down to your ass, fondling the skin. "Oh but I can resist, but why would I when it's funny to hear him try ask you out while disguising it as 'studying' while you're at my house currently half naked?" he replies instantly, biting his lip as your wetness is now soaking through your panties & leaving a small spot on his clothes, staining them.

You roll your eyes before you pull his shirt off his body, messing up his hair a bit before you slither yourself off the bed & onto his carpeted floor & tugging on his joggers, his hips raising to help you remove them, leaving him in only his underwear.

"You're being bold for someone who couldn't take more than a quarter of my cock last time you sucked it, you trying to train yourself for Jisung?" he teases, resting his bodyweight on his elbows, looking down at you as you pull his hardened cock out, pumping it slowly in your hand.

"Maybe I just didn't want to take any more seeing since I have no idea where it's been." you spit back, looking up at him as you smirk, your bottom lip in between your teeth as you let a glob of spit escape your lips & fall onto his pretty pink tip. He opens his mouth to respond but you cut his words out of his chest by licking a long strip from just above his base to his tip before letting the tip fall past your lips, suckling on it softly, making him hiss.

You let your tongue swirl against his tip before you begin dipping your head lower, allowing your mouth to take part of his shaft in your mouth too. You are still a bit nervous since it's only your second time sucking cock but Hyunjins words fuel you to prove to him you can take it all, so as he is taking a deep breath out, hand holding your hair out of your face, you force your head down further so over half of his cock is now in your mouth & you hollow your cheeks, making his toes curl & have to consciously try not jerk his hips into your mouth.

"You been practicing y/n? Doing so well, taking it so g-good, so pretty." he groans, lightly slapping your cheeks, feeling his cock through the skin of your cheek, giving him butterflies.

You begin to bob your head up & down his cock as you use your hand to jerk him off in the same rhythm, making his grip in your hair tighter as his groans & hisses get more frequent, making you convinced you're probably leaking your own wetness onto the floor you're situated on.

You let yourself off his cock to catch a breath as you let all the spit that's formed in your mouth get dribbled back onto his cock if it hasn't already fell past your lips & you look up at him with glossy eyes as you pump him at a faster pace, his cheeks blown out & now breathing out his mouth.

"Only practice I've gotten is off the pretty boy I'm looking at right now." you chuckle, honestly having no idea where the confidence is coming from before you blow cold air onto his tip, making him yelp & scrunch his eyes shut before leaning forward to pull you back onto the bed.

"I refuse to cum before fucking you" he mumbles, out of breath as he kisses you again, full of tongue. "Open your mouth." he hushes as he breaks away from your lips, fingers playing with your folds over your panties again, his wet cock against your thigh.

You do as he says & he spits into your mouth, humming as you swallow it, nothing but lust in both of your eyes. "Such a slut deep down, aren't you? You want more? Your hips can't fucking stay still." he chuckles, biting his lip as he looks down at the sight below, your lower half squirming to try get more friction & you just whine.

"Hyune.. Please give me it, don't I deserve it?" You question, seduction tinging your voice & Hyunjin can't stop the feeling of his cheeks & ears going hot, the way you're currently talking making his head spin.

He stands up & pulls you towards the edge of the bed, still laying on your back as he peels off your soiled underwear, your pussy glistening & his mouth waters, deciding to spit right onto your clit, making you whine.

He pushes your legs that little bit further apart before situating himself between them, jerking himself slowly while looking down at you. "How bad do you want it, hmm? tell me how much you want it, pretty." he speaks, not looking away from your pretty face as he hits his tip against your clit, making a tiny, sticky slapping noise. "Hyune I deserve it, want it so much, don't I? Look how wet I am for you." you whine, fingers trailing down to spread your lips, exposing your hole to him.

Hyunjin groans at the action , his cock twitching as he aligns himself up with your entrance. "Say it one more time, didn't quite hear you." he replies, hand caressing the inside of your thigh as he drags his cock up & down your folds. "Hyunjin please just put it in! I need it s-" Your cries are cut off as he pushes his tip past your hole & sheaves into you until his pretty, full & heavy balls are against your skin, making you gasp.

"You're so tight, Jisung not fucking you right?" He asks, trying to sound calm & collected when in reality he is trying to not cum on the spot, your warm, wet walls wrapping around his dick perfectly. "t-stop winding me up hyune, please move." you whine in response, making Hyunjin smirk as he retracts his hips before thrusting back into you, knocking the air out of your lungs.

He sets a slow but powerful pace, small squelching noises & both of your whines & grunts filling not only his bedroom but the entire apartment. "For someone wh-who's such a fu-fuckboy, you're not fucking me l-like one." You struggle but get the words out, wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine & it works as he grunts before pushing the backs of your thighs up against your chest before beginning to pound into you, making you squeal.

"You wanna try repeat that for me, hmm? You're saying that as if anyone can fuck you like this but me, your cunt is mine, can't your brain understand that or are you just too much of a whore to only want one dick?" He snaps at you, his hair sticking to his forehead because of the sweat as he abuses your cunt, his thumb reaching down to your cunt, making you yelp & your hips begin meeting his thrusts halfway.

You shake your head but he isn't happy with that response & he grabs your face by the cheeks, forcing you to look up at him as he leans forward. "Words, y/n, where did your boldness go, hmm? Who's pussy is this? Tell m-me." He asks, breath quick & short as he doesn't slow down for even a second, letting out a hiss as you reach up to his back & digging your nails into him on accident, for sure leaving marks later but none of you bothering to care.

"Y-y-yours! Hyun-jin I'ma c-cum." you screech, brain going completely blank, your body almost exploding with sensation. Hyunjin smirks at you before standing upright again, continuing his assault on your swollen cunt. "Cum for me then, show me how good I-I make you feel, Only I can do this for you, can't I? Only I know how to m-make you feel so good, you look so beautiful under me, you need to see." he groans back at you, throwing his head back momentarily before looking back down at you as you cum around his cock, wriggling & squirming as it washes over you, your knuckles going white from the grip you have on his bedsheets.

He fucks you through your orgasm, leaving you breathless before he pulls out. You don't have much time to question it however as he pulls out of you & grabbing your phone off the floor before returning to you.

"Gonna show you how fucking hot you look, It's on your phone so it's just for your eyes, no stress." He says, breathless as he turns on the video option before pressing record & sliding himself back into you, your orgasm forming a white ring around his base.

You clench around his thick cock, partly from overstimulation as he begins pumping into you again, chasing his own release now. The camera is pointed at you so you decide to act up a little, pulling your shirt above your tits, exposing your hardened buds to the camera & cold air of the room, making Hyunjin whine. "Look how beautiful you are y/n, you're anything & everything I could e-ever fucking want, taking me so well, I've t-trained you to take my c-cock so well." he says in a husky voice, his throat now dry as he continues ogling you, looking down at your swollen, reddened pussy, dragging the phone down to let the screen get a good look too, watching it tense & clench around him, making his knees almost buckle.

His eyes widen as your fingers move up to your pretty tits as you begin playing with your own nipples, tugging & pulling on them before raising your fingers to Hyunjins lips & he gladly suckles on them, moaning onto them before you pull them out of his mouth & caress your now spit covered nipples softly.

"You like the c-camera, beautiful? You-you're so dirty, so p-perfect for me. Turn your pretty face to the side, show the camera w-what you let me do to you y/nnie" He groans, his voice high pitched & squeaky & you do as he says instantly, not fully processing what he meant or said as he move the camera upwards, showing the purple marks he has inprinted on your skin.

"G-gonna cum y/n." he forces the words out & before you even realise, you're wrapping your legs around his waist & pulling him towards you. He tosses the phone to the side again before falling onto his elbows on each side of your head & you use the rest of your strength to tilt your head up enough to connect your lip to his neck & you begin pinching the skin of his neck with your teeth & you suck a big purplish red mark into his neck as his own orgasm washes over him.

He melts into your skin as his orgasm fills you, coating your walls & giving you goose bumps. You let him fully lay on you as you softly kiss his neck & earlobe, letting him catch his breath back as you also try relax your own breathing.

You lay like this for a minute or two in complete silence as you now begin playing with Hyunjins wet hair, before tears start leaving your eyes. You begin to sniffle & Hyunjins brain switches itself back on as he pushes his head up from your neck to look at you, now crying.

"Y/nnie, why are you crying? Did I hurt you?" He begins to panic as he moves off of you to start checking you but you sit up too, basically following him as you wrap your arms around him, pulling him back down to you.

"Just stay here f'r a bit, Hyune I'm sorry, I didn't know how upset I would make you." you sniffle, not looking right at him as he looks at your reddened face, his heart hurting. "I'm sorry too, I don't want you to feel insecure, I was being stupid. Can we.. go on a proper date? I know it's not the most romantic time or place to ask but I was n still am serious about only wanting you y/n, I mean it, pinkie swear." He asks you in a soft voice & he holds out his pinkie to you & you can't help but let out a small giggle as you interlock them together then kissing your thumbs before locking in the promise.

"Took you long enough to fucking ask me." You reply as you wipe the tears off your cheeks, reaching up to kiss Hyunjin on the cheek & his already red cheeks get an even darker shade.

"Better late than never, Stay here n I'm gonna get us a drink n we can go for a bath." He kisses your forehead before getting off of you but he takes the time to shuffle you up to his pillows & laying your head on it as he grabs his bed throw & lays you under it so you're not just sitting there, before leaving the room dancing & singing.

"Y/n & Hyunjin sitting in a tree" He sings out loud as he walks around his house & you can't help but laugh. "Stop singing that or I'll change my mind!" You yell & he shuts up instantly (not including the whine of protest he yells back), making you laugh to yourself.

I'm not completely sure I want to do a fourth part to this so in case this is actually the finale, I really hope everyone who has taken the time to read it has enjoyed reading the past 3 parts as much as I enjoyed writing them & thank you for all the kind words! <3

TAGS: @tsunderelino @troublemaker02 @ismokeeweed @lmhcats @isagerada

[decaying-church]

Kinktober Day 4: Hate Sex + Patrick Bateman

Patrick Bateman x male!reader

Kinktober 2023 List | Day 1 | Day 5 | Ao3

(a/n: shout out to the people that sent request for today yall came in clutch. )

Summary: Working for Patrick Bateman was hell. A hell that seemed to improve after he tried to kill you

Warning: rough sex, these bitches hate each other, reader has a thing for bloody men, Patrick tries to kill reader, then they fuck, fucking on desk, slight voyeurism, unprotected sex, unsafe sex, fucked over a desk, reader gets his dick sucked, reader being a bad Dom (cuz they hate eachother), not beta reader, not even a little bit, errors that will be fixed tomorrow cuz I'm sleepy.

Words: 1968

It wasn’t hard to hate Patrick Bateman, he was an entitled asshole to the misfortune of both you and him, you were his new secretary.

Well “new” as in most recent, as his last one had good missing, while you didn't like the idea of becoming the secretary of a rich man whose secretaries consistently went missing, you didn't really have a choice, rent was due and they offered to pay you on a biweekly basis, which you really needed, so you joined the team.

But god, Patrick was the most insufferable prick you’ve ever met. So demanding and so fucking needy and impatient and selfish and cruel and inappropriate with every word he spoke to you.

You hated him, and he hated you.

He resented you because he wasn’t attracted to you, you weren’t the pretty, female secretary he was used to. You could tell he liked having that power over women from the way he treated other people secretaries, kind and flirtatious before some kind of switch seemed to flip in his mind mid interaction and he was suddenly he was his true self, a needy, perverted asshole.

You never got the nice side, from day one he’s always been your asshole boss, you do half of his work and barely even get a thank you, it’s truly and honestly ridiculous.

You made sure to tell him how much you hated him every chance you got, your contract made it so you had to be employed under Patrick for at least 5 months before you could quit or be fired. So instead of wallowing in your hate, you let it flow freely. Letting it fill every interaction you had with him. Public, private, it didn’t matter, your disrespect was constant.

You didn’t think today was going to be any different, the morning was perfectly ordinary, making copies, sighing Patrick’s papers, getting on his nerves, he was quieter today, less likely to retort your remarks than he usually was. You’d been working for him for four and a half months now, you figured he was getting ready to fire you.

But as the night drew closer and you were getting ready to clock out, when he asked you to stay late, not told, asked.

He must have hit rock bottom, finally.

You stayed, even as the rest of the office went dark. Your desk had its own lamp so you didn’t mind the main lights being shut off. What you did mind was Patrick repeatedly calling your intercom without saying anything, then hanging up. It was annoying, and after the fifth time, you decided to go yell at him about it.

He wasn’t at his desk when you walked in, without a lick of hesitation in your body, you turned around to head out the door, only to find Patrick standing in front of it, pulling white gloves onto his hands, an unreadable expression on his. Before you could open your mouth to question him, his hands were around your throat, squeezing hard.

It was a short lived attempt on your life, as you pulled your foot back and kicked him in the knee as hard as you could. He dragged you down with him as he fell, with you landing on top of him you had the upper hand, punching him square in the face, again and again until your knuckles and his nose and mouth bled. The moment you felt his hands weaken around your throat you jerked back, simultaneously yanking his hands from around your neck, pinning them on either side of his head.

With no real plan on where to go from here, and Patrick having not expected himself to fail, the two of you sat there making intense eye contact for well over a minute.

You didn’t know what to do, Patrick had tried to kill you, failed, and is now pinned helplessly beneath you, looking just as confused as you did.

Oddly enough, Patrick was…experiencing a few new things at this moment. Deflation was one he was familiar with, but complete and utter submission was new for him.

He tried to kill you, but he couldn’t, and you were still alive, holding him down, staring at him with so much pure emotion on your face that he nearly felt overwhelmed by it. He didn’t even try to fight back, instead breaking eye contact to stare at your body above him. It was easy to say he was an admirer of yours, but you are too disrespectful, too mean, and entirely too unflattered by him for him to make a move.

Here you were, though, above him, he was powerless beneath you, anything could happen, he pressed his thighs together, anything could happen.

You were having similar problems. You loved a man covered in blood, particularly his own blood. And that is exactly what Patrick was, looking so pathetic beneath you, staring at you, and your body, wantonly. And you let him.

“What the fuck?” you said, with no real conviction in your voice.

He breathed out hard but said nothing. Just staring down at himself for a long moment, then back up at you. You followed where his gaze had been, your eyes meeting the obvious bulge in his perfectly fit slacks.

You breathed out a short laugh.

“You get off on trying to kill people, Batemen?”

He shook his head at your allegations.

“So it's just me?”

He breathed in hard, avoiding your eyes.

“You like it when I hold you down Bateman, ‘cause that's what it seems like..”

“I'm sorry-” he gasped out, but you interrupted him.

“No, you're not, you're not sorry for trying to kill me, you're horny and want me to fuck you.”

A moment passed

“-please?” his gasp of a word was ever so slightly painful, that, and the blood still free flowing from his nose, made you jump into action. Dragging both hands above his head, then keeping them pinned with just one of yours, using your now free hand to undo your belt, Patrick watched intently as you unfastened the buckle and pulled the belt off in one hard tug.

He watched as you made a makeshift pair of handcuffs, using your teeth as an extra hand while your other was occupied.

“Turn over.” he didn't move.

Letting his hands go for a second you forcefully put the man on his stomach, slamming him on the ground a bit harder than you would anyone else. You regathered his hands and pushed them into the cuffs, pulling to tighten them until the skin around them began to bruise.

Letting his hands rest on his lower back you leaned in close to his ear.

“If you want me to do this you're going to have to listen, understand?”

He nodded rapidly.

“Good.”

You stood up, appreciating the sight of the man lying on the floor between your legs for a moment before picking him up and dragging him over to his desk, you nearly slammed him down over it, he didn't say anything about it, actually, based on the moan he let out and the way he was already spreading his legs and was wiggling his hips in anticipation, you figured he liked it.

You didn't prep him, he'll you didn't even warn him, his pants were off and pooling around his ankles so quickly that he’d barely had time to process it, then, after taking a short moment to appreciate how beautiful and pristine Patrick's ass was, pressing your finger against his hole to see how tight it was, never actually penetrating him though, only stopping when you were satisfied with the answer, very, and his reaction. watching his thighs twitch in response. Then fully and with an utter lack of any hesitation, you pulled your pants and underwear down just below your hip, taking your already hard cock in your hand and giving it a few hard pumps before pressing it against Patrick's hole. He froze up, but his knees still shook, nervous and excited and impatient all at the same time. Then, without saying a word or giving a sign, you pressed in fully, starting at a pace that burned him from the inside out, and you were right, he was very tight, almost hard to push into, but you made it work.

You nearly zoned out his squeals, screams, and moans as you fucked him, unable to move, his insides stretched wider than they'd ever been- he's never done this before and the pain of it was unignorable. He tried to focus on you, your cock, making him feel so good and so bad at the exact same time.

The desk beneath him creaked with every rapid thrust, his stomach pressed uncomfortably against his own nameplate, and with his arms tied, and you being his near ruthlessly fucker for the night he didn't dare ask you.

It wasn't hard to get lost in Patrick, he was beautiful, he felt amazing around your cock, and his voice was more than perfect as he screamed and moaned your name into the empty building.

Then, an idea popped into your mind, the building wasn't completely empty, security was roaming around, checking the doors, the cameras. Looking around the room you spotted it, the blinking red light a clear sign that someone was watching. Grabbing Bateman by the hair you hoisted him up, ignoring his pained yell in favor of showing him the camera.

“Look at that, who's on camera duty tonight, Bateman?”

He blabbered and whined before saying he didn't know. You let go of his hair, and he fell back down to the desk with a bang, gasping out in pain, which soon merged with the pleasured moans that fell from his mouth constantly.

“You think they want a turn? Huh? Maybe they want to fuck you over the desk too, or maybe on the floor. I'd let them use you, I'd let them pass your ass around all night long.”

“No-” he gasped, “just you, just you please-”

He hurried his face in the sheets of paper covering his desk, embarrassed. He's never belonged to anybody, and he surely doesn't belong to you, but the more you fucked him and the fuzzier his mind got, the more he considered, then accepted It.

His back arched hard, his chest still pressed against the desk as he tried to keep his footing, his legs shakey and sore from you kicking him and everything that came after.

“Y/n~im so close, so fucking close, mhh Ah- Ah, ah-”

And he was, his body tensed hard, cum dripping down his cock before shooting out the tip, making a mess of his desk and the floor.

“Fuck, Bateman-” you gasped, just as close as he was a second ago, “you're fucking pathetic.”

You made the splint second session to pull out, much to Patricks, who was actively experiencing sexual overstimulation for the first time and was completely unprepared, relief.

That was until you dragged him off the desk and onto the floor, making him kneel in front of you. Grabbing his jaw and forcing it open, shoving your cock into his unexpected mouth, but that was fine, you used his mouth just as roughly as you'd used his hole.

You didn't last long after that, between Patrick's warm mouth and tongue being used like your personal toy, and his complete and utter submission to you, it was all just too beautiful.

With a final hard thrust into his mouth, your cum shot down his throat, making him choke and gag, and eventually swallow.

Then, staring down at him, you stuffed yourself back into your pants, forcing Patrick to the round, took your belt, and left. Leaving behind a confused, exhausted, and fucking satisfied Patrick Bateman.

[tiredmamaissy]

Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Chapter Four

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, profanity, age gap, sexual tension, size difference/kink, praise kink, fingering, alcohol consumption/drunk character, mating, oral sex (both receiving), p in v, virginity loss, blood, marking/biting, let me know if i forgot anything?

Word Count: 15k (i think, i dont even know at this point)

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Guys, I'm so sorry this one took so long. I hope it's worth the wait. I tried to proofread this but the app keeps crashing and I lost my progress thrice. So forgive me for any typos and errors. I'll probably go through it with fresh eyes tomorrow and fix them. Enjoy 🤍🤍

Synopsis: Your family seeks uturu with the Metkayina in the village of Awa’atlu. You have a difficult time adjusting, and are assigned your own special teacher, Ralak.

<- Previous Next ->

“Not today, tahni. I must get you back, now.”

----

You protest, not wanting to go back to the prison with your less-than-understanding father and his two soldiers keeping an eye on your every move. You try to convince Ralak to have a conversation with your father, but he insists that won’t do anything. Jake is a man of action, and he would need to prove himself to Toruk Makto – prove that he is worthy of mating with his daughter.

To do things ‘the right way’.

All it took for you to behave was him grabbing your hand, pressing it against his warm, half-hard cock while he looks you dead in the eye.

“Tame Tsurak. And this is yours to do whatever you please with.”

“Oh?” Your lips pucker as you husk the word, brow raising in astonishment.

Of course, Ralak would turn this into a lesson of some sort, saying something along the lines of you being a fast learner and would only need a day to learn. It was laughable really – him saying that you need a week to learn the sign language of his people but less than a day to tame a skimwing.

He clicks for his swimwing, watching as it glides quickly through the water towards him. He takes a few steps back, making space for the large creature to come to a standstill. Ralak approaches it cautiously and respectfully, hand reaching behind him to grip and stroke the length of his kuru.

You’re only now just getting a good look at his kuru, it’s much longer than yours given the stature of this man. His tendrils are a deep pink, very composed and calm, much like Ralak himself. They dance slowly, sporadic movements gaining direction once they sense the kuru of the Tsurak in proximity.

“Bond carefully. Tsurak are not like ilu.” Ralak says, pupils constricting momentarily as the tendrils slowly entwine with one another, making tsaheylu with the scaley, large beast. It shivers vigorously as their breaths synchronize, two beasts becoming one. Ralak takes a sharp breath before swinging his leg over the creature, settling himself graciously on its back. “They deem if the rider is worthy.”

“Oh. I see...” You nod slowly, nerves fraying from the thought of not being worthy enough to tame one.

Ralak motions you to mount the Tsruak, patting it’s back behind him. “Come.” He holds your hand, helping you on before wrapping your arms around his waist. “Hold tight.”

With that, you’re off. The beast glides easily, and slowly through the water, never going underneath. Ralak spends the ride teaching you about the techniques to apply when bonding, mounting, and riding a skimwing. Even how to hold the harness properly, so you’re not pulled off by a water drag.

“Most important. When you dive back in, maintain a good position.” He rambles, demonstrating the diving movement with his hand, fingers pointing downwards.

You listen, but you’re focus is primarily on the way his waist feels in your arms. You savour the sensation, feelings of self-doubt making you think that this may be the last time you’ll touch Ralak in this way. You rest your face into the dip of his back, ear pressed into his skin as you listen to the thump of his heart.

The words echo in your head. “...to do whatever you please with.”

You could do this. You can do this. You’ll do it for him. For your mate.

Ralak slows to a halt a far distance away from your family marui pod, exchanging glares with your two older brothers. Though they were younger than Ralak, he still treats them as equals, respectfully signing ‘I see you’ to them both. Reluctantly, they return the gesture, maintaining their downward glare to the giant. Neteyam stands tall, chest puffed out to appear bigger, whilst Lo’ak’s arms are crossed over his chest, shifting his bodyweight from one leg to the other.

You scoff. Two idiots doing their idiot thing.

“We will meet again, my love.” You whisper, planting a kiss on his back before dismounting the creature to swim around to the mangrove roots.

“My tanhi.” He hums lowly, watching you swim away and climb up the root to the backside of the marui pod. He turns around, diving under the water to leave before your father’s arrival. Your brothers help you up, pushing you inside the pod by a hand on your back.

“You smell even worse.” Neteyam makes the snarky remark whilst grimacing, turning his head away from you.

“Yeah. He’s not joking, sis.” Lo’ak adds with a chuckle, leaning in to get a better whiff. He pulls back dramatically, letting out a loud ‘whoof’ as he turns his head away too.

“Ha-Ha.” You say, imitating the sound of a laugh. “Thanks guys.” You mutter sarcastically, although you really did owe them.

The sound of your father flipping back the flap of the marui averts your attention to the door. All three of you stand in formation, acknowledging the former marine’s presence. He walks past you, lips pursing into a thin line once your scent wafts past him.

“Jeez, y/n. Ya need to take a bath or something. Preferably before tomorrow ‘cause that’s when training with Tsireya starts.” He shifts his glare to his sons, patting them both on the back as he praises them for doing a good job watching you. Another scoff bubbles up your throat, prompting you to roll your eyes and find refuge behind your privacy curtain.

----

Swish. The sound of your privacy curtain being yanked aside, allowing slivers of the first rays of sunlight to shine against your cheek.

“Get up, kid. Time for your lesson with Tsireya.” Jake’s voice beats against your eardrums.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Never have you had a lesson this early. Nor have you had someone wake you up for one. And how many times did you have to speak to your father about privacy? That’s why you sat down for a week straight making these curtains. And by the way everyone keeps yanking and tugging at it, you’ll have to make another sooner than planned. You lift your head groggily, rubbing your right eye with the ball of your palm. Groans of irritation rumble up your throat as you roll over onto your side to ignore your father.

“Hey. Don’t make me come over there.” He jesters, hoping to lighten the mood.

It only makes things worse. How could he joke after locking you away and having his two watchdogs guard over you? He’s taking away the one good thing for you in this wet-land and thinks a joke will make things better?

“Leave. I’ll come out soon.” You mumble into your pillow.

Jakes brows lower in defiance for a moment, and relax when he realises that you’re just hurting. Regardless, this is what he thinks is best for you. You were still his ‘babygirl’. He takes a few steps back before turning around to walk out of the marui. Once you hear his footsteps die out, you rise from your cot and get ready for the day.

----

“Wow, y/n. You have improved so much since I last taught you!” Tsireya exclaims, surprised by your skilful movements.

“Yeah. Ralak was a good teacher.” You smile, tugging the fishnet towards you. Your lips flatten into a line when you realise how that sounds. “Not saying that you weren’t or anything.” You add quickly, staring wide eyed at Tsireya.

“It is okay.” She giggles, two dainty fingers covering her lips.

“Yeah. There’s just something about him. He’s… different.” You smile once more, slowly wrapping the fishnet around on itself, “A good different!”

“I know Ralak, y/n. He is... like a brother to me. Although we don’t talk very much...” Tsireya says, swimming towards the spears on the shore. “I am surprised you two got along for this long.”

Your brows twitch. Brother? What did she mean by that? What does she think even happened?

“I’m going to mate with him.” You blurt out, earning an astonished expression from Tsireya. “When I pass my iknimaya, of course.” You say, knowing that’s not what she’s concerned about.

“You two got along that well?” She questions, reaching for the spears.

“You could say that we confessed to each other in the heat of the moment” You mumble as you work your way to sit on the shore.

“So, why am I teaching you?” Her movements come to halt, inquisitive gaze flicking down at you.

“Dad found out. He is forbidding me from seeing him because I haven’t passed my iknimaya yet.” You twirl a strand of wet loose hair around your pointer finger, “He didn’t even care to ask about the situation. Or if I even need lessons anymore.” You shake your head, watching the hair unravel from your finger.

“I see. I think you two would be good for each other.” She shrugs, staring at the spears for a moment before throwing them back into the sand. She looks at you and smiles, “Has he taught you about our dances?”

Gaze snapping up to hers, a smile stretches your lips as your brows raise in fascination. “Dances?”

Tsireya offers her hand, and you take it, letting her help you up. “Mhm. Our way of dancing. It is very... sensual. It is said that eywa speaks through the soundwaves of the music.” She walks you over to a clearing near the shore.  

Apparently, the musical instruments are sacred, some parts of it harvested from the spirit tree.  And when they are played, the way of Eywa can be felt by those that listen, expressed in bodily movement – dancing. It’s movements manifest erotically, acting as a mating ritual.

It draws in the fated or desired mates of those that partake in the ritual, driving them to find one another and dance together.

“Teach me.”

----

The days go by slowly as Tsireya shows you the sinuous movements of the Metkayina. She explains that it is much like the way of water, gliding and flowing freely with the music. One must allow the music to flow through the body in waves, to slip into a trance like state for your body to sway with the rhythm.

It takes you about a week to learn all the movements. It posed to be an even more difficult task without the music, and just Tsireya’s humming. Of course, this music is only only played on the night of an iknimaya celebration.

Tomorrow is your iknimaya, and Tsireya decides it’s best to run through a few pointers on taming a tsurak. Taming one is not something you practice doing, not like an ilu. You attempt it, and if denied, it is because you have much more to learn. You may try again after further training.

“Your grip is the most important thing. Once it loosens, it is ove –”

“Girls.” The olo’eyktan’s voice booms above you, averting your attention to the three casted shadows on the shore. Your eyes trail up the silhouettes to see Tonowari, your father, and... Ralak. Your heartbeat quickens, body heating up from sensing its desired mate in proximity. You try to play it off, looking down at your knees buried in the sand.

“Father.” Tsireya shuffles to her feet, signing ‘I see you’ to the three men, acknowledging their presence.

You follow slowly after her, eyes now locked onto your feet. “I see you.” You gesture, finally lifting your gaze up to the three men.

Ralak’s brows twitch as his cold eyes trail up your body, doing their best mask his excitement from seeing you. You look beautiful – dressed in clothing native to his people, pearls embellishing your top and a string of shells sewn to the band of your tewng [loincloth]. Braided hair with bright red flowers twisted into it, his chest tightens from seeing you like this.

This is the first time you’ve seen him in a week. He looks... dishevelled. Nothing like he usually looks. Hollow eyes, body enveloped with bruises and scabbed over wounds, you can sense the fracture in his spirit. He looks so, so worn. A heated wrath simmers your blood, making you red in the face.

What have they done to you, my love? You ask him through concerned eyes, breaking your stare to seethe at Tonowari.

Jake could see the upset on your face, lips pursing into a thin line as he squints his eyes, telling you to drop the attitude. But you were vexed with him too. Did he really think you’d be an obedient little soldier? You scoff at the thought, rolling your eyes to land them back onto Ralak, who is also giving you a look.

Now that’s different.

All it takes is a quick raise of his brows and a slight shake of his head to quell your attitude. You huff a small sigh of defeat and drop your irate stare to your feet once more, holding your tongue. You wanted nothing more than to lash out at Tonowari, despite him being the olo’eytan. But you understand that this would only make matters worse.

Jake witnesses this, feeling a little embarrassed about your blatant disregard for his order and not Ralak’s. But he can’t ignore the smidge of respect he’s feeling towards him right now. To be able to handle your rebellious attitude with a simple shake of his head is impressive.

“Iknimaya is tomorrow.” Tonowari speaks, eyes drifting towards the discarded spears.

He’s clearly speaking to you, but you’re too caught up in your own head to even hear him.

“Yes, father. I am confident that she is ready.” Tsireya answers quickly, using her tail to nudge the back of your leg.

“Yes – yes sir. Your daughter taught me well.” You say a little too composed, avoiding eye contact all together.

“Good. We will be on our way then.” Tonowari nods, turning his heel to leave.

Jake follows behind him, throwing one last glare in your direction, whilst Ralak lingers for a second or two. He does one last scan of your body, before locking eyes with you. A soft smile pulls at his lips as he slowly retreats.  

It’s like all the negativity bubbling in your being washes away in an instant, leaving you standing there with a dumb smile on your face. He spins around, walking nonchalantly behind the two olo’eyktans, arms tucked behind his back.

“Did he just – smile?” Tsireya asks, a little dumbfounded.

“Mhm.” You hum, smile only growing wider.

----

That night you walked home beaming, smile plastered on your face with your ears flickering wildly. It had been so long since you’d last seen him that it was so uplifting to see that sweet, sweet smile again. You haven’t felt this happy since Jake separated you two, and honestly you couldn’t bring yourself to go home and see him.

Despite your strict curfew, you find yourself alone sitting in the wet sand, watching the sun set, bright hues of red and orange lighting up the sky. You bring your knees to your chest and rest your cheek between them, thinking about tomorrow.

What if I can’t do it? You sigh, feelings of self-doubt crashing in like the waves at your feet.

“Y/n.” Jake’s voice booms behind you.

Of-fucking-course you’re going to come find me.

“What?” You mumble into your knees.

Jake’s purses his lips before letting out a small sigh, shoulders relaxing as he seats himself beside you. “Feelin’ ready for tomorrow? Not nervous, are ya?”

“Ha. Yeah. I had the best teacher in Awa’atlu.”

“Babygirl.” His voice softens as he tries to look you directly in the face. The fact that it’s been over a week, and you’re still upset tells him that he’s really hurt you.

“Not your baby anymore.” You mutter under your breath, turning your head to look the other way.

“Yes, you are... ‘nd you always will be. Even when you have your own.” He speaks gently, resting his hand on your upper back.  

You shrug him off, causing his hand to retreat entirely. He reflects for a moment, on how his actions have made you feel. Has he been too harsh on you? Was the ‘tough love’ act too much? The rift that’s he’s driven between the two of you is just too thick and he must remedy it.

“Look. I’m – I’m just tryna look out for you.”

“Excuse me?” You lift your head up and look at him with an expression of disbelief. "Look out for me? Or coddle me? Cut the shit, dad. I know you’re trying to keep me from him.”

"Language!" Jake hisses, “And I am looking out for you, whether you wanna believe it or not.”

“So what? How far are you gonna go to keep me from him? Gonna make us move again? Fresh start, somewhere else?”

Jakes voice is low now, a dangerous growl as he grows frustrated with your venomous words. “Everything I do is to protect you kids. Your safety is everything to me, y/n. I just want what’s best for you.”

"Ralak is what is best for me. He's good to me. Patient with me." You croak, lump forming in your throat. "And - I love him, dad."

Jake quickly stands, letting out a scoff. "No. You don't. You barely know the guy!”

"I do. I know him more than anybody. He's a gentleman–”

“Y/n” He starts, “We’ve only been here for a few months. He’s your teacher. There’s plenty of fish in the sea. Why are you settling for the first one you meet?”

“Dad, just – stop! He’s a good person. And when I tame tsurak tomorrow... I will choose him.” Your voice fades away as you utter the last four words, heated tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Yeah. If you tame it. I didn’t even tame it myself the first try. You really think you can?” Jake spits, growing frustrated with your defiant attitude.

Ouch. You didn’t even have the words to respond to that. Your own father taking a jab at your competency, knowing it’s one of your biggest insecurities. And to instil is own personal doubt into you is on another level of petty.

And just like that, the rift grows wider.

Your bottom lip quivers, revealing the small dimples in your chin. You stare up at him glossy eyed, tears welling up so much you could almost see the way it makes your eyes glisten. His gaze softens, as if he were just hit square in the jaw with words he just uttered to you.

“Y/n, I’m s –”

You shake your head in disbelief, brows gathering so tightly it hurt. You walk past him, shoving him with your shoulder as you make your way towards your marui. You can hear him calling after you, hollering whatever things first popped up in his head that could possibly make it right.

“Babygirl, please! You know I didn’t mean it like that. Just try to see where I’m coming from!”

But you ignore him and keep it going. Slumping into your bed, you lay your head on your pillow and close your swollen, wet eyes in hopes to get some rest for your big day tomorrow. The day that would change it all.

The day of your iknimaya.

----

It wasn’t only your iknimaya today.

Much like when you tamed your ikran, you stand in a line of other younger na’vi, who have been waiting patiently for their chance to prove themselves. Eager and excited to earn their place in the clan and mate with another.

They all speak amongst themselves, whispering harshly and huddling together to hear one another. They’re discussing pointers, reviewing techniques, and sharing tips they’ve learned from the more experienced warriors. It’s a bit annoying, in all honestly. They all seemed to have a completely different motive from you. An intrinsic one.

Whereas your motivation is standing in waist deep in the water, effortlessly holding the thrashing, winged beast in place. His hands grip the harness tightly, whilst Tonowari and another warrior secures the mid and hind section of the skimwing.

You watch as the other young na’vi attempt to tame the tsurak before you. Some pass, some fail, tsurak swimming with such force that it leaves the rider disoriented. Some even begged for another chance, while others accepted their defeat with a tail between their legs.  

It makes you nervous. And the more you stand and stare at the thick skinned creature, the more is registers how big it actually is. It’s enormous – the length of six na’vi. Yet Ralak holds it down firmly, arms growing veiny from the sheer grip he has on it. It writhes beneath him, prompting him to restrain the beast even further.

You’d never seen Ralak ‘in action’ before. To you, he’s this big, soft giant, patiently tolerating your less than composed attitude. A man with simple goals, and simple desires. Not this strong, war machine he has been turned into. But you can’t ignore how seeing him like this makes you feel.

A strong and competent man.

But the more the creature thrashes around in his grip, the more your shot nerves fray. Just as you feel the nerves creep their way up into your chest, tightening it with no mercy, Ralak locks eyes with you. A stoic expression, with eyes that said so much. Ocean blue eyes, telling you ‘I’m right here. You can do it. Do it for me. For my big coc-’.

“You got this, kid. I mean – y/n.” Jake’s sudden voice interrupts your... train of thought.

If you hadn’t just been eye-fucking the man he’s keeping you away from you would’ve probably warmed up to his... attempt to make things right.

You let out a loud scoff and roll your eyes before diving into the water. Your fingers pierce the surface of the water, slender body moving through the water quickly and making the lap in one breath.

Turning your head, you quickly realise why they had you so far up in the mangroves. It was a test. A breath test. But what confirmed your suspicion is the look at your fathers’ face. An expression of surprise – shocked to see you even swim much less hold your breath for the entire lap.

Did he really have that little faith in you? You shake your head in disbelief, landing your stare on the spectators – the olo’eyktans’ family and other superior hunters and warriors. All of which stood high up in the mangroves, observing your every move.

How intimidating.

You exhale slowly, hoping to steady your galloping heart, but your efforts are to no avail. It feels as if its leaping from your chest the more you near the writhing, restless beast. And the closer you get, the louder its low, deep rumbling grows.  

You’re about chest-deep in the water now, bouncing on the tips of toes as you inch closer and get a better look. You scan its entire body, starting at the white caudal fin, up to its furled wings and long snout – which houses at least a hundred jutting-out, needlelike teeth. Overall, its menacing demeanour makes your stomach sink.

Shit. Can I really do this? You think, shaky hand reaching behind you for your kuru as you continue to study the beast’s tough exterior.

“Y/n.” Tonowari saying your name snaps your eyes up to him smiling down at you. “Make the bond.” He gestures over to Ralak, who’s holding tsurak’s kuru in one hand, and the harness in the other.

He can tell from your body language and the glint in your eye that you’re nervous and having doubts. It’s the way you gnaw at your bottom lip, just like you did whenever you were getting frustrated during your lessons.

You settle yourself beside him, feeling his warmth radiate off his body onto yours. It’s been so long since you’ve been this close to each other. You’re not even touching, yet it feels so good. So right. You allow yourself to sway with the current of the water so that your shoulder brushes against his arm, sending your freckles flickering in broad daylight.

His chin remains tucked into his chest, arm extended towards you with the beasts’ kuru in hand. “Remember what I said.” He mutters under his breath, low enough for only you to hear.

You glance up at him briefly, trying your best to recall what he’s said to you about tsuraks. Your brows pinch in ponder as your pink tendrils dance wildly when they near the creature’s kuru. Was it something about the bond? Or was it how to grip the harness?

Ralak leans in, pretending to bring the kuru closer to your short stature. “yours to do whatever you please with.”

Oh. That.

You recall when he pressed your hand against his half-hard cock and told you it was all yours if you tamed tsurak. Just thinking about how warm it felt in your hand ebbs away the fear you’ve harboured in your chest, replacing it with a new feeling of determination.

Trying to withhold the smile creeping up on your face, you watch as your tendrils intertwine with the tsuraks’, kurus bonding together with a quick pull. A shiver runs through the creature as it snarls and growls, and your pupils dilate and constrict, breath hiccupping as you sync together.

You can feel it’s strength – it’s prowess. The way it breathes under and out of water. The way its left wing is injured from the na’vi that kicked it when tumbling off. The frustration brewing in its stomach. The exhaustion he’s feeling.

Instinctually, your hand caresses the length of his slippery snout, razor sharp teeth grazing your darker blue skin. “tam tam, tam tam [calm; there there]” You coo quietly, sliding your hand up his snout to grip the harness tightly. To your surprise, he settles immediately, sensing your empathy towards his state.

A sense of mutual respect.

Taking this as your signal to mount him, you hoist yourself up onto his back, being extra careful not to touch his wing. You find yourself struggling, being so far out at this height was only another obstacle in your way. Without warning the tsurak sinks into the water, lowering itself for you to haul your leg over its back.

“Irayo [thank you].” You whisper through a smile, settling yourself comfortably on the woven saddle.

Finally lifting your head up, you’re met with the stare of two surprised men, and one proud man. Ralak has this smug look on his face, like he knew all along that you would be able to make the bond in this way. And that – that’s just what you needed.

The three men let go of the beast, backing away with their hands in the air, allowing you space to ride. You tighten your grip one last time – something you recall being the most important thing, and think, go.

The tsurak takes off at full speed, caudal fin swishing from side to side, providing thrust to propel you forward. The sheer force of his jerky movements has your grip loosening already, audible swoosh of his tail growing louder the more wobble side to side.

Easy. Easy.

He steadies instantly, providing you with enough time to tighten your grip and position yourself properly on his back. You’re mindful of his injured wing, grounding the heel of your non-dominant foot beside his good wing. With your other leg, you settle your knee into his back, finding balance in your own body.

The shimmying comes to a halt, leaving you gliding effortlessly through the water, swoosh of his tail steady and low. You pull up, prompting his wings to splay out, revealing their vibrant red and orange colours. Soon the whoosh of his flapping wings drowns out the noise of his caudal fin propelling you upwards and out the water.

“There you go.” You think out loud, steadying yourself mid-air.

It’s an exhilarating feeling. The cool wind in your face and the way the sun rays heat up your skin. It almost feels like your ikran. A big smile spreads across your lips as you give his gill a gentle, reassuring tap. That’s when you feel the dull ache in your left shoulder worsen.

“Tam, tam. [there, there]” You repeat, recognizing his pain. That’s your cue to prepare yourself for the hardest part – the dive. This is the part which typically ends with the force of such a plunge knocking the na’vi off it’s back. The true test.

With a quick, deep breath, you tighten your grip around the harness one last time and dive onto your stomach, hugging his lower back with your knees. You tuck your chin to your chest and brace yourself for impact. The tsurak tucks his wings flush to his sides and plunges in, long snout piercing the water’s surface with ease.

The force of the plunge is indescribable. It’s almost like the feeling you get when you plummet down the hallelujah mountains on your ikran. But more intense. The water adds extra resistance, knocking you back to the point of your knuckles almost dislocating.

Despite that, your grip remains strong as you hurtle through the water, tilting to the side to avoid the reef. The slight sting of your lungs act as your cue to make a sharp turn and head back. You ascend slowly as you dart through the water, resurfacing completely before the three men.

You let out the breath you’ve been holding with an audible haa as you bring the beast to a halt. You wipe the water from your face and try to catch your breath, looking up to see Ralak with one of the biggest smiles on his face – the first of its kind. And you couldn’t quite tell if the shock plastered on the other mens’ faces are for you or for him.

You return the smile as you gently pull away your kuru from the tsuraks’ and dismount him. “He is weary. And injured. Left wing.” You pant, meeting eyes with the giant beaming with pride. “Let him rest, Lak.”

“Ah.” He chuckles breathily, using his tail to caress the back of your leg. “I will be sure to do that, my Tsurak Makto.”

Cheeks heating up to a dangerous degree, you avert your gaze elsewhere, only for it to land on the Olo’eyktan himself. He, too, is smiling wide, moving towards you with an extended arm. You link arms, slender fingers wrapping around his strake.

“You are Metkayina now, y/n. Soleia [congrats; you did it]” Tonowari declares.

“Thank you, sir. And your daughter –”

“While I am sure she has taught you well, Ralak is the one to thank here.” He rests a firm hand on Ralak’s shoulder.

You look over into the mangroves and see your father with his arms crossed over his chest, nodding and smiling. He’s impressed, to say the least. But not only with you and the way you absolutely mastered the taming of the skimwing, but also with Ralak – who is clearly to thank for that.

----

With night being only a blink away, things move quickly. Na’vi men and women rush to begin the preparations for the iknimaya celebration on the open, sandy area on the beach. They haul in large, tightly strung instruments, scrupulously carved flutes, drums made from animal skin, and horns made from bone, setting them up on the large, flattened rocks.

The clans’ best singers apply various colours of tsamopin [warpaint] to their skin, accentuating their features, while the elder, wiser na’vi prepare the native dishes for the feast. Fruits, vegetables, grains, and meat are cooked to perfection and spread carefully for everyone to have a taste. Bottles of fermented fruit garnish the spread. Others hurry to ornament the space with harvested bioluminescent flora from inland, and light the bon fire.

Tsireya approaches you with a full, large basket tucked on her hip. She smiles as she places her free hand on your back, guiding you and the small group of four other na’vi who passed their iknimaya to a secluded marui. Propping the basket between two jutting mangrove roots, she retrieves a handful of different coloured beads and shells.

As tsakarem [Tsahik in training], it is Tsireya’s duty to seal the iknimaya by rewarding those who passed with a few artefacts to signify their adulthood. “For your songchord.” She speaks, distributing the beads among the five of you before fetching the special pieces of clothing.

“You have all passed your iknimaya.” She speaks softly, distributing the clothing to the others. “Soleia! [congrats; you met the challenge] You may all receive your inking at the ftxozä [celebration]”

She comes to you last, carefully handing you a woven palm leaf. “I am proud of you, y/n.” She whispers, watching as you quickly open the woven packet, revealing your first Metkayinan article of clothing. Your eyes widen as you hold it in front of them.

Seven warbonnet fern leaves stained in crimson coloured ink, strung tightly together with fishing line. It’s beautiful. The leaves are long and pointed, meticulously placed to provide enough coverage for your chest. You rest it against your chest, raising your brows at Tsireya for her opinion.

She clicks her tongue, hand flying to grip her chin as she ‘thinks’. “Hm... He’s definitely going to rip that off of you.” She teases, fingers covering her mouth to hide her giggle. You laugh, probably a little too loudly given the four pairs of eyes staring at you both.

“The sun is setting, everyone! Get ready, wear your pen [clothing] with pride, look your best, and most of all, have fun!” Tsireya shouts happily, gesturing with her hand for them to hurry.

Everyone rushes to get ready, slipping in their pen and putting on their best face. You observe their hasty, excited movements, when the last rays of sunlight avert your stare to the horizon. You catch sight of the sunset, something you rarely got to see back home. The big, blood orange orb sinks beneath the horizon, turning the water a hue of orange.  

Your gaze follows the ginger ripples of the water up to the beach, where you’re met with the sight of a blazing bonfire, flames growing as tall as some palm trees. A breath-taking sight. The skilled pamtseotu [musicians] work at their instruments, nimble fingers plucking the taut strings, and the wax coated bones beating away at the drums.

You admire the glow of the people as they enjoy themselves. Two elderly women trying to hear each other over the loud da-dum of the drums. A few young adults having their first sips of pxir [beer; liquor]. Parents with their sleeping babies strapped to their backs sharing a dance under the moonlight. Ao’nung and Rotxo eating as much as their cheeks can hold. Ralak – oh.

Ralak talking to your father.

----

Ralak’s POV (starting from iknimaya)

“While I am sure she has taught you well, Ralak is the one to thank here.” He rests a firm hand on Ralak’s shoulder.

Ralak remains silent, yet his mind is loud. He has so much to do – so much on his plate. But all he can think about is you. How you bring light to his small, dim world. How your presence alone uplifts the weight on his shoulders. And oh, how the past few weeks have been tortuous for him.

Tonowari, the man that took him in after the passing of his parents, had him hard at work since you weren’t allowed to see him anymore. Tonowari isn’t oblivious to what’s going on. He can tell the situation for what it is, but out of respect for Jake he made the arrangements for Tsireya to teach you instead.

Ralak has been waiting for the right time to speak with Tonowari about the matter. The matter of asking for your hand. Although he wasn’t necessarily asking Tonowari for permission for your hand, but more so permission for himself. Permission to dedicate his time to his mate, his family – to his dream, mundane life.

He watches you swim back to the mangroves, and with an injured tsurak there’s a bit of time between you and the next contender. Tonowari instructs for the other warrior to tend to the tsurak, and for a moment, it’s just Tonowari and Ralak.   

The two giants exchange glances, standing in silence as one waits for the other to speak. Ralak knows it’s the perfect time to do it. You’ve just passed your iknimaya and they’re alone and far from any company.

“Sir.” Tonowari turns to face Ralak, knowing what’s coming next. Ralak slowly raises his head, tilting it to return the gaze. “I want to mate with her.” He speaks assertively, showing his seriousness through a stern gaze.

Tonowari nods a few times, breaking eye contact as he momentarily drops his head. He knows what this means – what he’s truly asking for. Freedom. Less duties. More time put into building the family he’s always wanted. To rediscover his days as a fisherman. To live his simple life.

Tonowari looks at Ralak, hand swiftly moving to firmly grip his shoulder and give it a squeeze. “You have my blessing, son.” Ralak smiles, using his free hand to clasp Tonowari’s. “But you must speak with Toruk Makto first.” Tonowari booms with laughter, pulling his hand off Ralak’s shoulder.

Although Ralak is almost as much as a giant as his mentor, he found Jake to be intimidating. He has extreme respect for Jake, admiring how family oriented he is. Which is why he wants to do it right. “I will. Tonight.”

--

Ralak hauls in a lengthy, wooden table, plopping it down in the open, sandy area. An elderly woman approaches him, thanking him with a gentle hand to his back and a gummy smile. Her free hand holds a bowl containing a mixture of diced fruits. He quickly takes it from her, placing it carefully in the centre of the table.

“Allow me. You rest.” He says with a thick accent, linking arms with her to walk her back over to the seating area.

“Tak. Always such a kind boy.” She whispers softly, patting his hand before letting go and taking a seat.

Jake and Neytiri are assisting with the seating area, rearranging the order of things. Ralak gestures a respectful greeting to them both, bowing his head before the former Olo’eyktan. Neytiri gives him a warm smile, acknowledging his kind gesture towards the elder.

She has always disagreed with Jakes decision to separate you two, insisting that he is too harsh on you and that you have already passed your iknimaya back home. She had taken a liking to Ralak since the day you rode an ilu after only a week of lessons.

“Sir. May I speak with you?” Ralak asks politely.

Jake lets out a hesitant sigh, looking at his mate who’s shooting him a deathly glare. He purses his lips into a thin line and gives Ralak a firm nod, gesturing with his hand that they go somewhere more private to talk. He follows Jake willingly, walking with him to the shoreline.

They stand in silence for a moment, much like he did with Tonowari earlier. Ralak takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the worst. He turns to look Toruk Makto dead in the eye, mask of indifference fixed tightly to his face.

“I would like to apologize for the way things turned out. It was never my intention.” Ralak speaks, holding eye contact with the great warrior – who is visibly biting his tongue for the sake of not being strangled by his own wife. “Your daughter. She is truly the best thing that has happened to me. Kind. Caring. Understanding. Yes, she has her moments.” Ralak widens his eyes, quirking his brows before smirking a little. “But I love those too.”

“Uh-huh.” Jake gives him a small nod, doing a ‘come on’ motion with his hand, implying he should get to the point.

A little intimidated, Ralak averts his gaze to his feet and speaks quickly and confidently. “I want to provide for her. Protect her. With my life. I will give her anything she desires. Everything she needs. I will give her a good life.” Ralak’s eyes snap up to meet Jake’s. “But only with your permission, sir.”

“You gonna look me in the eye this time and make that promise?” Jake raises his brows, wrinkling his forehead.

Ralak clears his throat, straightening his shoulders to stand at full height, towering over Jake. “I love her. I will take care of her. Give her everything. If you’ll allow it.”

There’s a moment of silence – other than the increasingly loud thump of the drums – where Jake and Ralak stand face to face. Jake process all what Ralak has said. He’s never heard so many words fall from this man’s mouth before. Jake’s shoulders drop as he heaves a sigh, perked ears now relaxing against his skull. Hands flying to his hips, he looks away briefly before looking back at Ralak.

“She’s my babygirl. You know that, right?” Jake growls through gritted teeth.

“Yes, sir.” Ralak is quick to answer.

“I swear, if you let anything – and I mean anything happen to my babygirl...” Jake’s voice his dark and gruff, laced with uncertainty. 

“Understood. And, agreed. If anything happens to her, you have every right.” Ralak assures the former Olo’eyktan, grimacing at the mere thought.

“Right. Then you have my permission, Ralak.” Jake nods, extending his arm to the taller na’vi. Ralaks ears bolt upright, overjoyed to hear the words. They join arms with an audible smack, sealing the deal with a firm shake. “Go on. Go find her.” Jake nudges over to the mangroves with his chin, “Before I change my mind.” Ralak bows his head slightly and parts ways to look for you.

---- End of Ralak’s POV

Shit, I should go. You think, turning on your heels to go find Ralak. By the time you’ve turned around, everyone is gone except for Tsireya.

“Come, let’s get you ready.” Tsireya grins wide, slowly creeping towards you with her handmade palette of colours.

You pull your head back, a downturned smile spreading across your face. “Where are you putting that? What is that?”

“Just a little something for your cheeks, come on.” She smiles even wider, dipping her finger into the creamy concoction.

“Eh. Not my thing.” You pull your head back even more.

“Ralak will like it.” She sings, wiggling her pink stained finger in the air.

You let out a small sigh of defeat and lean forward. “Fine. Only a little, okay?”

“Mhm!” Tsireya squeals, beaming with delight as he smears the creamy mixture on the apples of your cheeks. “There. And a little for your lips, too.” She says, quickly swiping it on your lips before you can refuse.

You grunt in response, popping your lips to distribute it evenly. “Well. How do I look?”

“Sevin [pretty], and you’ll look even better when you put that on.” She stares at the crimson strained top in your hands.

You slip into your top, fixing the leaves into position to cover your nipples, and do a twirl for the chief’s daughter. “Well?” You ask with open hands.

You didn’t think that cheeky grin could grow much wider, but it does. A grin so wide that it’s ear to ear.“Fyole [perfect]. Now let’s go get your mate.”

Maybe her giddiness is just catching, but hearing one of the most beautiful girls in the village call you fyole makes you grin too. She tugs at your arm, urging you to follow her down the webbed pathway towards the sandy area.

As you both make your way down to the beach, the faint whoof of the drums deepen in bass, and the plunk of the stringed instruments grows higher. And soon you can make out the song that’s playing. It’s the same song that Tsireya has been trying to hum to you for the past week. You keep your chin tucked to your chest, gaze locked to your feet as you follow behind Tsireya.

Once you see the silky sand spill through the cracks of your toes, you look up to see that you’re both standing at the edge of the crowd. People are packed tightly together, sweaty bodies pressed firmly against each other as they move to the beat.

The ambiance is electric, you can practically see it jolt through the crowd. Different colours glow around the moving bodies, it reminds you of your dream hunt.

Tsireya grabs a hold of your hand, squeezing it tightly to bring you out of your deep thought. “Remember what I taught you, yes?” You stare at her wide-eyed, knowing what she’s going to tell you next. “Dance with me, vultsyìp [stick].” She sings the last word teasingly, tugging you into the crowd behind her.  

As much as you loved the music, you’re focused on Ralak. You want to find him, be with him. You look around as you both weave through the crowd, bumping into people having a good time, drinking, and dancing. You swear you see a few people laying in the sand on top of one another, bent into positions you’ve never seen before.

Tsireya can sense that you’re a little anxious. Perhaps you feel out of place, or maybe you’re just a little stunned by the way of her – your people dance. She looks back on you and gives you a reassuring smile, squeezing your hand tighter as she burrows you both through the dancing crowd.

Finally coming to a more spacious area, she wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you in close. You slump into her, chin resting on her shoulder. Her lips brush against the shell of your ear. “Let him come to you.”

You pull back, looking around to see if he’s anywhere nearby before leaning back in to speak into her ear. “How will he know where to find me?”

Tsireya laughs, lifting a hand from your waist to tap her flat nose a few times, signing ‘smell’.

You nod slowly, trusting her word, despite you being in a large crowd that reeks of pxir[liquor], and – sex. You take a deep breath, smelling an array of scents all mixed, and overlapping one another. It’s almost overwhelming, leaving you feeling all hazy and dazed.

“Now dance with me!” She shouts over the boom of the music, sliding her hands down your waist to grip your hips. A giggle bubbles up your throat, the aphrodisiac properties of the music now taking affect. It sets a fire in your body, heating you up from the inside out and making your hips move in her grip.

It’s a little frightening, feeling your body move on its own, much like it did during your first heat. You try to fight it a little, feeling a little timid from how the music is affecting you in this way. But you recall Tsireya explaining to you that it’s something to do with ‘the way of Eywa permeating through the music’ – or something.

Tsireya realizes that your movements are bit rigid and broken, plagued with uncertainty. “Let go. Feel the music.” She urges you, guiding your hips in the direction of her motions. You allow yourself to let go, closing your eyes to immerse yourself in the trance of the music, moving freely to the rhythm.

With each beat of the drum comes a quick roll of your waist. And soon you’re dancing on her, vibrations of the instruments rippling through you. It comes naturally, body moving in a sinuous manner against hers. At the same time, it’s such a foreign feeling, as if your pores are dilating and releasing your essence into the air.

Meanwhile, Ralak is searching for you at the edge of the crowd, peeking over the sea of people. His eyes quickly scan the waves of dancing na’vi, looking for his tahni. His deep blue tahni. He had no interest in going into the crowd, much less surrender himself to the hypnotic ways of the music.

But he has no other choice.

He nosedives into the crowd, working his way between people as they increasingly get more and more suggestive with their bodies. One cannot simply walk through this without being affected to some degree – the pink tinge of his cheeks is evidence of it.

A hand instinctively flies to his nose to block out the mixture of scents bombarding him. Pxir. Sex. Desperation. Its almost contagious. Only making him want to be with you even more. Nearly to the point of desperation. He needs you. To be around you. To touch you. To be inside you.

Until it just becomes too much. Too much that a simple hand overing his burning nostrils won’t suffice. He drops his hand in defeat, allowing the mesmeric fumes to engulf him. It’s nauseating, yet his want for you grows stronger, to the point where he could swear to Eywa herself that the scent is slowly morphing into yours.

And yours only.

Ralak closes his eyes, inhaling so deeply that his chest tightens – all so he can savour your sweet, sweet aroma. He succumbs to it, nose following the scent to the source like an ilu being lured with a piece of fish. When he opens his eyes, he sees you. Clear as day.

There’s an aura around you, glowing so bright it’s almost blinding. It’s like the light in the darkness – all over again. Just like the first day he met you. The day you brought meaning to his life after losing so much.

Right there.

In awe, he watches your little body move effortlessly to the rhythm, slender tail swishing excitedly behind you. It’s the way you look – all flushed and flustered, dressed in the clothes of the Metkayina. He swallows thickly at the sight, influence of your pheromones making it that much harder – literally. He’s so hard it hurts, balls tightening and pulling so close to him that he shifts his weight to the next foot.

Yet his eyes dare not move. They bore into you so deep that even you can sense his stare. Your body knows he’s close, speeding up with your lewd movements, luring him in even more. And it works. He can’t help but move a little closer. Just to get a better look at you. At how you’ve learned the dance of his people, moving just like one of them with no difficulty.

And then you feel him.

Pressing against your body from behind, his warmth only heating you up more. You can smell him – no need to turn around to check who it is. You lean back into him, back of your head slumping into his chest. Everything’s so hot – so heavy. He leans down, pressing his soft, warm lips against your throat, using his tongue to taste the sheen on your skin.

You exhale an audible haah, chest heaving harshly as your nipples harden into peaks underneath your new garments. Tsireya lets you go, retreating into the crowd to leave you both alone. His hands quickly replace hers, wrapping tightly around your waist, pulling you in closer to his hot body.

That’s when you feel it, hard and firm, pressing into your lower back. Then your breaths turn raggedy, becoming louder. You can’t help but grind into it, feeling him bend his knees, body receptive to your movements. And soon he’s grinding into you too, bodies falling into synchrony.

“So this is what you have been learning. Hm?” He whispers gruffly into the shell of your ear, following your every move as you lower yourself even more.

“May-be” The word comes out broken from the pace your body is setting for him to keep up with.

“All for me?” He chuckles, greedy hands lowering to your thighs, fingers smoothing over your clammy skin.

“Mmn – mhm.” You purr, thighs squeezing together as you shimmy your hips into him, providing your throbbing clit with a little friction.

His hands swipe underneath your loincloth as they glide back up to your hips, his lips pressing into your neck once more. He peppers hot, wet kisses down to the tips of your shoulders and up to the back of your neck. It sends your freckles flickering under the moonlight, surely gaining more eyes on the two of you.

But neither of you cared. Not in this moment.

“Feel me.” He growls, sinking his fingers into your hips to shove you into his pelvis. “Feel what you do to me.”

You can hear the frustration in his voice, he’s so wound up that you can just tell from the way he’s manhandling your hips. “Oh, fuck.” You gasp, rubbing yourself against his hardened bulge, tail wrapping around his thin waist.

Calloused hands work their way up your stomach, fingers grazing over the dip of your navel before finding purchase under the strings of your top. He hooks his thumbs under the twine, running them along its length. You bow your back against him, pushing back into his crotch.

“My beautiful tahni.” He groans shakily, resisting the urge to pin you down and take what’s his, right here, right now. “I have missed you.”

“Ma’ Lak.” You moan softly, feeling so out of it – so hazy and light-headed.

“Do me the honour of being my mate.” He tries to speak politely, keeping his voice steady and calm, rough grinding smoothing into gentle swaying.

“Say that again for me.” You pant through a smile, dipping your head forward to give him better access to your neck.

A low growl rumbles in his chest as pointed canines graze over the nape of your neck, eager to sink into your supple skin. You spin around, drawing a little blood when they scrape against your skin. He shoves a knee between your legs, spreading them apart to press his pelvis firmly into yours. “Mate with me, woman.”

“Oh, yeah? Right here?” You tease, tugging at his queue to bring it over his shoulder.

“You’re trouble. You know that?” He chuckles breathily, leaning down to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your hypnotic scent.

“I’ve been told.” You let out a soft giggle, twirling the end of his kuru around your finger.

Eywa, did that feel good.

“Come.” He says quickly - impatiently, hoisting you up onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist. He stumbles over to the shore, still feeling the effects of the melodic music coursing in his bloodstream. Quickly calling for his tsurak with a tik-tak, he watches as the large beast glides through the water towards him.

In an instant, Ralak bonds and mounts the beast with you stuck to him, holding you close with one hand and gripping the harness tightly with the other. You bury your face into his chest, basking in his natural scent as you try to calm down. But you’re so on edge and need some sort of release soon.

“Need y-you. S-so bad.” You moan needily, breath hitching as you grind the soft flesh between your legs against the tautness of his tewng [loincloth].

Ralak’s brows pinch tightly together, huffing a breath of hot air through his nostrils. His restraint is dwindling by the millisecond. He needs you. Craves you. Hungers for you. And he can no longer withhold himself, not when you’re still grinding into him, even though the music has faded out.

“I know. Almost there. A little longer.” He hums breathlessly, beads of sweat rolling down his temples.

Ralak’s so flustered and hot that he can barely maintain control over his winged beast, making the ride to the cove of ancestors rough and bumpy. The burning need to possess you – dominate you – only grows stronger with each huff of hot air you breathe onto his bare chest.

He wants so badly to just drill himself inside you, right on the back of this tsurak. Leaving his cock buried deep in your tight, wet heat for the remainder of the ride. So that when you do arrive, he can lay you down on the nearest rock and have his way with you.

But he won’t. Not for your first time. Not before you mate.

Your breath rasps in your throat, nimble fingers working away at the knot above his tail. It’s as if you could hear his thoughts already, telling you to take him right here, right now. Or perhaps it’s the way his painfully hard cock almost bores through the thin cloth, right into your sopping cunt as his hips buck into you. Both of you reek with desperation, a scent so pungent any passer-by would gag. Yet he still finds the self-control to reach behind him to rest a gentle hand on your wriggling fingers.

“Wait.” A single word parts his flushed lips, gruff and strained. It’s all he can get out in his state of mind. He wants nothing more than to just do this the right way. The way he’s been planning for years on end. You whine a little when he pulls your hand away, plunking it back onto your slippery thigh.

“Please.” You mewl, fingers now burrowing between your pelvises to slip under the band of his loincloth, pulling it down just enough to unsheathe his thick cock. It’s slaps against his flexed abdomen, tip of his glossy, reddened head poking right below his crossed ribs. It’s all swollen and throbbing, sticky from how much precum he’s leaking all over himself.

Denying him the chance to refuse, you shove your clothed cunt against his slickened length, humping into him with ease. He tries to bite back a sudden groan, tightening his jaw so much he may fracture it. His breaths turn raggedy as he rests his chin on the crown of your head.

Eyes becoming so lidded, he doesn’t even realise that you’re finally here. The cove of the ancestors. The most sacred places in the village of Awa’atlu, where na’vi go to mate. You’re blissfully unaware of your surroundings, trying to stick your hand in your crotch to shift your loincloth to the side.

“I said. Wait.” A gruff, stern voice sends a shiver down your spine.

And fuck – it only makes you hornier, sending your hips in a thrusting frenzy, doing their best to line his cockhead up with your dripping entrance. You can’t quite catch it as it keeps bucking and slipping over your puffy clit. You grunt a frustrated ‘mmph’, irritated that he isn’t sliding in like you thought.

Ralak is struggling to maintain his composure. Half of him wants to chuckle at your futile attempts to fuck him, and the other half wanting to just ram his cock inside you for being so stubborn. He takes a deep breath in, holding it to reground himself. He exhales a sigh of relief once he bumps into the rocky cove of his people’s most sacred place.

“Eywa – tahni.” A tortured groan evades his lips when he forces himself to shift his pelvis away from you as you persist with your efforts to hurt yourself. He inhales deeply, slowing his galloping heart. “Be a good girl for me, hm? We are here now.” He croons at you, wrapping your hands around his neck and supporting your back as he dismounts his tsurak.   

The bioluminescence of the water glows behind you as Ralak walks you both towards a nearby sea cave. Directly below you is the spirit tree – its fronds and filters luminating the area radiantly. You try to squirm out his grip, feet dangling above the cave floor from the way he refuses to let you go.

“Not here. Too rough.” He grunts as he hoists you back up and walks further into the large, open sea cave. Its floor is completely flat, with all sorts of flora growing between the cracks of the rock. The deeper you venture in, the greener it becomes. Until eventually, all that covers the floor is a thick bed of green, silky moss.

Little creatures buzz around, luminating the darkness of the cave, exposing the markings on the wall from previous mating sessions. Etched swirls, zigzags, and other patterns to signify a new union. There’s no doubt that this little ‘hidden’ spot is a popular place for na’vi to mate before Eywa.

You calm down a bit, influence of the music wearing off now that you’re both so far away from the celebration. At this point you just feel a bit buzzed, melting into Ralak’s grasp as your tense muscles relax. But your droopy eyes snap open when you feel him unwrapping your legs from his waist.

“Here.” Ralak husks, voice deep and thick with arousal.

He lets you down gently, snaking his arms around your waist to pull you in for a kiss. His lips crash into yours, so heated and frantic that there’ll for sure be bruises there tomorrow. His eager hands explore your body, releasing all the pent-up feelings he’s been holding back for the past few months.

Hearts thumping wildly in your chests, you pull away and share the same breath, panting open mouthed before your lips meet again. His hands find themselves cupped around your reddened cheeks, impatiently pulling you in closer until your bodies are flush against one another.

Webbed hands work their way down the column of your throat, calloused thumbs gently pressing into your windpipe. You let out a choked gasp, mouth hanging open as his hands continue their way down to your chest, fingers parting the blood-red leaves to expose your stiffened nipples.

Rolling the tiny, sensitive peaks between his thumb and index fingers, he quickly moves his kisses down your jaw and up to the lobe of your ear, biting it as gently as he can. You stand there open-mouthed, breath catching in your throat momentarily.

You exhale as you rub your thighs together, smearing your sticky arousal all over them. It spreads your scent into the air, causing Ralak to pull away from your ear and takes a deep breath in. He releases it with a lengthy ‘ahh’, face growing hot from the way you smell. You can see him clench and unclench his jaw as the lump in his throat moves from how hard he’s swallowing.

Cerulean eyes pierce into yours, a moment of stillness passes by where his face morphs into the same face he makes when he’s trying not to succumb to that animalistic urge to ravish you on the spot. But it’s been too long. No amount of clenching and gritting could help him.

Not tonight.

He grabs you by the jaw, pulling you up on the tips of your toes to kiss you – hard. His lips crush yours frenetically, letting go all his worries and apprehensions. Truly indulging himself in the moment. In you. He fills his lungs with your arousal – your aphrodisiac. Getting high on you and allowing his body to speak for him.

Slipping his tongue into your mouth, he backs you up against the wall, hand flying to the back of your head to cushion the impact. Your tongues roll over each other, taking in the feeling of every tastebud. Both his hands slip down to yours, lengthy fingers enfolding your wrists as he brings them above your head, pinning them to the wall.

He quickly binds your wrists together, securing them tightly with one hand whilst he shoves his free hand between your slickened thighs. A small, shaky gasp breaks the kiss, thick fingers tugging down your soddened garments. You help him by shimmying your hips, allowing the flimsy material to drop to your ankles.

Now you’re just irresistible.

His fingers graze past your plump, smooth folds, before finding their way in between them. “Ralak.” His name slips out, all breathy and small. You say it so nicely, so sweet and innocent, and his ears can’t help but flicker at the double syllabled word. Eywa, he loves it so much that he makes it his mission to have you scream it by the end of the night.

But not yet.

He brings his digits to his nose, inhaling as deep as his lungs can go, closing his eyes to relish in the sweet, sweet scent of your arousal. And when his eyes open, you swear you see them shift in colour, darkening to a cerulean blue. There filled with greed, gazing longingly at you as if you were something to devour.

And that’s when he takes his fingers into his mouth, having his taste of you. Tongue weaving through the cracks of his digits, he licks them clean, using his thumb to wipe the corners of his mouth before popping that in too. There was something about the way he did that, sucking on his fingers as if you were the best thing, he’s ever tasted in his twenty-four years of living.

It makes you want to taste him too. Back bowing against the jagged wall, you try to wriggle free from his grasp, prompting him to loosen his fingers. In an instant you sink to your knees, staticky hands latching onto his thighs as you press your face against his half-covered bulge. His hand flattens against the wall, supporting his weight as he peers down at you wide-eyed.

You walk your fingers up his thighs, tucking them under the band of this loincloth to yank it down. Out springs his twitching cock, rock hard and throbbing from how swollen he’s gotten from sharing a few kisses. Your eyes cross as you look at it for the first time up close.

It’s... thick. So thick you can’t close your hand around it, leaving a spacious gap between your fingers and thumb. It only gets fatter towards the middle, then tapers off into his mushroomy head, curved and ribbed. His ridges are pointed, yet soft, spanning around and down the underside of his cockhead.

It curves upward, jumping to the rate of his heartbeat. A single bead of precum oozes from his slit, dripping off his cockhead in a thin string. Your tongue darts out, flattened with the tip of it touching your chin, eyes locked on his as you wait patiently for your fill. And when it finally drops onto your tongue, your tastebuds dance from the slightly sweet taste.

His brows jump at the sight, eyelids fluttering a little too quickly to be considered calm and collected. You can’t fight the smug look creeping on your face when you lock your jaw and swallow it with glee. Oh, to make a big, grown man like him crumble.

Naturally, you want to see how far you can push him. You wrap your dainty fingers around his cock, hold it taut to expose his throbbing head. Unsure of what you’re doing, you give him little kitten licks, playing with the little ridges underneath the tip of his cock.

His head slumps forward, thick strands of loose hair swaying side to side as his core flexes and unflexes. He’s biting his bottom lip, struggling to hold back that low grumble deep in his chest, hand balling into a fist against the wall.

And when you finally take him into your mouth, engulfing him in wet heat, his hips thrust. Hard. He didn’t mean for it, you just feel so fucking good around his cock, swollen lips stretching to their limit just for him to fit. Your eyes water, tip of his cock prodding into the back of your throat, corners of your mouth burning from the sheer size of him.

The way you’re looking up at him all glossy eyed and innocent, trying to absolute hardest not to gag on not even half of his cock sends him over the edge. He tightens his fist, knuckles scraping against the rocky wall, surely becoming bloody as he fights the urge to thrust into you one more time.

That’s when you hear the rumble in his chest, the steady, low growl traveling up his throat. Perhaps it was meant to scare you, or maybe it’s the face he’s making – narrowed, beady eyes and thinly pursed lips. Make you sit in the dip of your feet and be the good girl he wants you to be. But it only makes you wetter, thick strings of your own slick oozing onto the mossy floor.

You take him deeper into your mouth, mushroomy tip making its way down the tightness of your throat. The hot tears stream down your cheeks, washing away the rouge to reveal an even pinker tinge of your skin. The saliva pooling in your cheeks spills out the corners of your mouth, dribbling down your chin with nowhere to go.

Instinctively, you swallow.

An innocent reflex, as innocent as the glazed eyes that peer up at him. He lets out a sudden, sonorous groan, brows pinching so tightly together it creases his forehead. It’s so sensitive, so tender, that his hips snap back, cock pulling out your mouth with a loud pop. His bloodied hand flies down to your pinch your chin, pushing you away from him all together.

“’m sorry.” You apologize through a hoarse voice, thinking you’ve hurt him.

He shakes his head, thumb swiping the drool on your swollen bottom lip. “Don’t.” He exhales, chest rising and falling from how hard he’s breathing. You watch this gentle giant crumble to his knees before you, chin tucked to his chest to hide his face. He swallows harshly, clearing his throat as he slowly raises his head and looks up at you through hooded eyes.

“Tsaheylu.” He says breathlessly, heated ears laying flat against his head. He catches his breath as he shuffles closer to you, hand reaching for his kuru. All that’s running through his mind is that he must do this right. And with whatever remaining restraint ebbing away, he must do it now. “Tsaheylu, tahni.” He repeats quickly.

Ralak holds his kuru upwards, exposing his pink tendrils as they dance wildly before your eyes. There’s a moment of silence, where you both take in the lilac hue of his kuru. You nod franticly as a hasty hand reaches behind you, quickly tugging your queue in front of you. You hold yours next to his, revealing your wiggling tendrils.

Your eyes widen when you realize that they sense one another – an invisible force pulling them together. You glance up at him, wondering if he’s feeling the tug too. He’s watching intently, ears twitching and eyes tinted purple from the hues of your kurus coming closer together all on their own.

Looking back down, you witness your tendrils excitedly intertwine with one another, kurus meeting with a quick, harsh tug. His eyes slam shut, ears practically disappearing as they embrace the curve of his skull. He exhales loudly, head dipping forward as his brows gather tightly.

Your breath catches in your throat, body waiting for him to take a breath. When he finally does, you gasp for air, filling your lungs in synchrony with him. His eyes pop open, pupils so blown that only a thin ring of blue remains. Your tail swishes wildly behind you before curling around your waist to tickle his thigh.

A faint ring buzzes in your ears, fading out into a vague, echo of his voice. You can hear his thoughts, feel the way your tail brushes against his skin makes him hot and bothered. You can feel his tightened chest, thick with emotion and overwhelm. And if you close your eyes and focus enough, you can feel his deep-rooted trauma – his past.

But you can also feel his present. His future. The way he desires you to be the one to bear his children. To make his marui into a home. His immense adoration for you and only you. and the more you tune into your mate, the more you feel his immense restraint and composure, the way he’s forcing himself to be gentle.

It’s all too much at once, yet not enough all together.

“I love you.” You blurt out in unison, urge so strong it’s exigent.

The tightness in your chest grows ten-fold, spreading to your core. Eager hands caress one another’s cheeks, pulling each other in for another heavy session of kissing. You break the kiss with a shove to his chest – your futile attempt to push him onto his back. He’s unbudging, strong and solid, even in such a carnal state.

“Lie down, Lak.” You pant, still out of breath from such an intimate experience.  

Ralak nods, slowly leaning back to prop himself up on his elbows. Loose, curly strands of hair sticks to his temples, inebriated gaze boring into yours. You climb between his legs, settling yourself comfortably in the dips of your feet.

His neglected cock twitches madly, pre-cum practically flowing down his length and onto his swollen, firm balls. You swallow thickly at such an enticing sight. You want to taste him. To return the pleasure he’s always ensuring for you. Now that you’re here, between this gentle giant’s legs, you realise that you’ve never even stroked him before.

Shaky, inexperienced hands wrap around his girth, experimentally gliding up and down its length a few times. You can feel every vein, every ridge pressing into the palm of your hands. He’s so rock hard that it looks painful. You can tell in the way he grimaces, peering down at you as you pump him without rhythm.

Holding his cock out the way, you lean in do something you’ve been thinking about since the day of your first lesson. Lick his tattoo. It’s raised and warm, even a little veiny too. You trace each stripe with the tip of your tongue, trailing it down to the base of his cock. Nuzzling your face into the space between his thigh and balls, you fill your lungs with his musky aphrodisiac.

“Eywa. You smell... so fucking good.” You exhale, licking his cock from base to tip. He shudders before you, lying down flat on his back and covering his face with his hands. You can tell you’re doing a good job, the little groans evading his mouth confirming that for you.

Taking him into your mouth, you suck on his mushroomy head, swallowing all the slick that pools in your cheeks. Its mostly sweet, with a little bit of a salty aftertaste. You mindlessly play with the ridges under his tip, liking the way they feel against your tastebuds. He seems to like it too, hips jolting forward with each swipe of your tongue.

“Muntxate [wife]” He growls the word, hand flying from his face to grab a fist full of your hair.

Yes, my love? You think, knowing he’s hearing your every thought and feeling your every emotion.

“Keep doing that and I’ll cum.” He warns you, tone of voice gruff and serious.

Good. Cum for me.

“Ssst–ah.” He lets out a shaky breath, hand beginning to pull your head off him. You quickly clutch his wrist, picking up the speed of your tongue whilst bobbing your head on his cock. “Tahni. Tahni. Tahni.” He groans, each word becoming more and more guttural as they slip off his tongue.

Let me taste you, Muntxatan [husband].

“Shit.” He whispers, caving in on himself as his other hand flies to your head, stopping you from bobbing your head all together. With a quick, single swipe of your tongue, his head pulsates feverishly, spurting ropes of warm, thick cum in your mouth. It pools in your cheeks, stuffing them until they burn from how full they are.

You swear you can hear the da-thump of his throbbing cock, balls pulling closely to his core. You hum triumphantly, proud of yourself for making him cum. You pull off with a subtle pop and a loud gulp, swallowing his huge load with greed. Wide eyes stare down at you, processing what you just did.

Seconds of silence fill the air, two freshly mated na’vi staring into each other’s eyes.  

Within seconds he’s pinning you down on your back, assaulting your throat with rough kisses. His core ruts against yours, sweaty, inexperienced bodies bumping into each other. Everything moves so quickly that you can barely process how he’s got you pinned down on your back underneath him, trailing wet, feverish kisses down your chest. You go to slip out of your top, only for a large hand to stop you.

“Keep it on.” He grunts into your skin, tip of his tongue leaving a trail of saliva down the centre of your stomach. Eyes flicking up to yours, his predatory, lustful gaze bores into you, soft lips pressing into your abdomen. They flicker from side to side as they admire your luminous beauty, flushed lips sucking bruised-like marks into your dark skin.

Little broken mewls part your lips, hips lifting slightly as he peppers gentle kisses below your navel. He maintains eye contact with you as he works his way down to your hipbones, leaving open-mouthed kisses against your hips, he works his way down to your soft thighs, tip of his tongue swiping against your skin – salty from the sea. He lingers there for a while, breathing deeply to savour the sweet scent of your heat that’s so, so close to him.

He lingers there, waiting patiently.

Waiting for your permission as he begs you with his eyes to let him have a proper taste of you. To have his turn. One side of your mouth pulling coy smirk, you weave your fingers through his hair to push his nose between your folds. He wrenches your thighs open, pinning your legs to the mossy ground as he begins to devour you.

Tongue parting your pussy lips, he greedily laps up the sweet nectar dripping from your slit. He grunts into your cunt, sucking on your clit, all swollen and puffy from being so neglected. His hips buck into the mossy bedding beneath him, chasing the feeling that’s transferring to him through the bond.

You yelp out when you feel his finger stretch you out, sinking inside you at a torturously slow pace. He doesn’t want to be too rough with you as it’s been a while since he’s touched you in this way. But you reassure him with a tug at his wrist, shoving his finger knuckle deep inside you.

But it’s just not enough.

“M-more, Ralak. Please!” You cry out, extreme pressure in your chest coming to a head.

Feeling the taut tension, Ralak quickly obliges, sinking another digit inside of you as he assaults the little bud of nerves with the flat of his tongue. Your toes curl at the same time he curls his fingers inside you, prodding them deep into that gummy part of your heat. The pressure feels like electricity, surging through your core and to the tips of your extremities.

He loves how you’re squirming around, hips sputtering to chase your orgasm all on your own. He’s so proud of you, working for your own release like the good girl you are. Praising you with a quick pat on your thigh, he quickens the pace of his fingers, working out a squelch with each thrust.

You begin chanting his name over and over, voice waning with each syllable, until its nothing a tiny, pathetic whimper. Your head spins and your heart skips as you clench tightly around his digits. Your legs tremble, working their way towards one another to close around his face.

“Gonna – oh f-fuck.” You let loose a sudden whine, shoving him into your pussy when you feel the final shockwave ripple through your being, leaving you a shaking mess at the mercy of his two fingers and tongue. Following your every jolt, he hums a victorious groan from the feeling of your pussy walls fluttering helplessly around his fingers. He pulls away with a ‘pwah’, using this opportunity of pure, unadulterated pleasure to stretch you out even more.

“Good girl. And breathe for me.” Ralak coos, sliding his third and final finger inside you. The stretch stings, causing you to wince for just a moment. He quickly curls his fingers, causing another wave of white-hot pleasure to ripple through you, masking that string just right.

Ralak gently moves his fingers inside you, just enough to get you used to the such a big stretch. The sharp sting fades away, leaving nothing but small shocks of electricity surging through your swollen pussy. Slumping your head back into the pillowy moss, you focus on steadying your breathing. Your vision is blurry, and things are becoming hazy, but you don’t want this moment to end.

“Lak... Want more. Please.” You moan weakly, eyes crossing before they roll to the back of your head. You’re already all fucked out from his fingers alone yet you’re begging him for more. And he can see it, too. The way you’re just so spent, body trembling beneath him as he continues to stimulate your rubbed out sweet spot.

“I am not like you, tahni. I only have three.” He chuckles softly, curling them inside you as a reminder.

“Ngh! Y-you know what I mean. I want you...” Your voice falters, hand reaching down to grab his erection, a little surprised that he’s still this hard. “I want this. Please.”

His features soften, apprehension filling his lower stomach just from the jaded look you’re throwing his way. “Are you sure? We can do it another time.” He insists, feeling how tight you still are, despite taking three of his fingers.

“No, please no.” You pant as you shake your head lethargically, shimmying your hips closer to his. “Need-you-to-fuck-me!” You cry out, stringing the desperate words together so quickly it almost sounds like one.

“Tahni.” He utters just over a whisper, staring down at you with eyes of concern. Not only can he see the exhaustion on your face, but he can feel it too. It travels in waves through the bond, right into him. And after such a long day, iknimaya and all, it’s expected. “It will be too much for you right now.”

“You said, ‘anything I please with’. Right?” A tremulous, soft voice reminds him of his deal, knowing he’s a man of his word, albeit few. He chews on his bottom lip, a little impressed with you. He heaves a heavy sigh of defeat, positioning himself between your clammy thighs as he hoists your legs over his.

“Tell me if it hurts. Okay?” He leans over you, using a thumb at the base of his cock to line it up with your entrance.

You nod lazily before tucking your chin to your chest to witness you become one. The crown of his cock prods at your tight opening, looking massive in comparison. For a second you even question yourself how that will fit inside you. It’s way bigger than his three fingers combined, not to mention, much, much lengthier.

It bucks against your innocence, slipping and gliding over your sticky clit. You both grunt in unison, tension snapping just to rebuild all over again. His hips snap back, all four fingers now gripping the base of his cock.

An unexpected wave of anxiety crashes through you, making you cling onto your mate. You bury your hot face into his shoulder, completely abandoning the plan to witness it strip you of your innocence. He can feel your hesitation through the bond, holding his position in case you change your mind.

“Do it, ma’ lak. Put it inside me.” You mumble quietly into the dip of his collarbone, inching your hips closer to his.

He pushes into you slowly, breaking past the resistance of your tightness, mushroomy tip liding in with an audible pop. You bite down onto his shoulder, hard enough to sink the full length of your canines into his cyan coloured skin, staining it red with his blood. It muffles your pained, little cry, tear drops crashing onto the swell of your cheeks.

Fuck, it hurts.

It hurts so much that it makes your body shake and shiver underneath him as it tries so desperately to adjust to his size. It burns and stings and oh – it’s just too much. It feels as if something were lodged between your joints, snapping you open with such force.

His movement comes to a standstill, as if he were frozen in time. He grimaces, unsure if its from the way you’re pinching him or if its from how deep your little canines are sunk into him. Or maybe it’s your pain transferring to him, but he feels it too.

“You okay? Feeling pain?” Ralak’s voice is tender, a gentle hand moving to release your bite.

You unlatch from his shoulder, leaving open puncture wounds for blood to trickle down his chest. The pain fades at a torturously slow rate, but any little movement causes a new wave of fire to shoot down your legs. Surely, just like with his fingers, if you stay here for a bit, it’ll fade completely.

“No. Haah. Just give a m-minute.” You pant out a lie, breath hitching at the last word.  

“Y/n. I can feel your pain.” He utters breathily, pulling out as gently as he can.

“Don’t. Please, I want this.” Your voice is breathy, yet strained, legs quickly locking around his hips to push him in a little deeper. You let out a sudden, high-pitched whimper, burning sensation worsening. Your legs begin to shake uncontrollably around him, sending little vibrations up his spine.

“You’re shaking. Another time.” Ralak says sternly, unhooking your legs from around his hips.

“No, please.” A pathetic little plea falls from your lips.

He shakes his head, grinding his teeth together to deal with the guild bubbling in his chest. “Your body isn’t ready.” He mutters, pulling out tenderly. The more he moves, the more the scent of blood fills the air. He can feel it trickling down his back, but it’s the least of his concerns right now.   

“I-I am ready. Please Lak, just give me a moment to –”

Ralak looks down as he pulls out, head snapping back up to reveal the panic etched into his features. “You – oh Eywa. You are bleeding, tahni.”

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” You coo with quivering lungs, cupping his cheek to make him look in your eyes. “Really. Look at me, Ralak.” You give him a wobbly smile, only for him to pull away from your grip.

“I am hurting you. Look.” Two fingers pinch your chin, pulling it down to avert your gaze. A thin layer of blood coats your inner thighs, some smearing on his too. Your eyes snap back up to his, which are glazed over with panic and guilt. He pulls out of you fully, sitting in the dip of his feet to have a proper look between your legs. “I am so sorry tahni... I-I thought I stretched you enough.”

“Lak...” You whisper shyly, trembling legs slowly closing to hide yourself from his eyes.

“We must go.” He declares, carefully scooping you up into his arms, holding you close to his chest as he makes his way out of the cave. Calling for his tsurak, he glances down at your face to see it screwed with discomfort. The guilt weighs heavy in his heart, driving him to act quickly.

So quickly that you don’t even realise that you’re already on the back of his tsurak, soaring at full speed through the water. You were truly fine, just a little sore and uncomfortable, but certainly nothing that required this level of speed. The ride back is uncomfortably quiet, Ralak trying his hardest to regulate his emotions. You can see the restrained look on his face, tightened brows, and thin lips.

“I’m alright, my love. You don’t have to go so quickly.” You try to reassure him with a small voice. He huffs a sigh in response, clenching and unclenching his jaw, biting back his feelings to focus on remedying the situation. “’ts not your fault.”

Eyes slamming shut, he shakes his head slightly, as if he were saying you were wrong. He holds you closer, opening his eyes to glance down at your blood-stained thighs. Eyelids fluttering, he looks back out into the distance, watching his marui pod appear larger and larger as he approaches it.

Within seconds he’s dismounted his skimwing, and takes large, quick strides to the cave. Your legs dangle over his forearm, other arm supporting your back as he carries you bridal style into the water. A shaky hand reaches for his kuru, holding it in the air to expose his pink, tendrils.

“Tsaheylu, Lak.” You groan needily, wrapping your tail around his thigh.

“Soon, tahni. Let me clean you first.” He hums tenderly, glancing down at your body one last time before slowly submerging you in the water.

The lake is always warmer in the nights, glowing around you from its bioluminescent properties. Supporting your back with one hand, he carefully parts your legs and cleans you gently. Your eyes remain locked onto his face, his clenching jaw, his flattened ears – the way the column of his throat protrudes when he swallows.

The guilt is evident on his face, and it worsens the more he looks at what he’s done to you. And when he moves down to the flesh between your legs, you can’t help but jolt, legs closing around his hands as you wince a little. His head whips towards you, worried eyes boring into yours. You give him a quick smile, nodding that he can continue.

Hand parting your legs once more, he ensures to be extra gentle and tender, even leaning in to see if he’s doing it right. After he’s finished, he bathes the rest of your body, rinsing the sweat and grime out of your hair after such a long night.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to –” You mutter, trying to stand so you can have your turn at bathing him.  

“No need.” He says quickly, scooping you back into his arms with ease, making his way up to his marui. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine, Lak. Honestly. You could’ve kept going, I just needed a moment.” You blubber out, trying to wriggle from his clutch.

He scoffs, shaking his head as he ducks under the flap to his marui. “You are like a baby.” He walks over to his bed and lays you down carefully, treating you as if you were really wounded. The leaves of your top stick to your breasts, wet and saturated from such a long bath.

“And you were about to fuck –” You mutter under your breath, to be cut off by Ralak’s glare. You let out a small sigh, a little frustrated from how the night played out. He walks towards a shelf on the opposite side of his marui, giving you the opportunity to sit up, and scoot over to the edge of the cot to get up.

His ears perk up from the shuffling sounds, but his back remains turned to you as he mutters the word. “Sit.”

Defeated, you plop back down onto the soft bedding, thumbs twiddling with one another as you wait for him to come back. Meanwhile he extends his arm to the top shelf, back muscles flexing as he retrieves two wooden drinking bowls and a bottle of liquid.

It’s mauve, and iridescent, swirling around as it sloshes from side to side. He pops it open with his back teeth, spitting the cork into a woven basket on the floor. He plans to cut it into two later, saving a piece each for your songchords.

Sitting next to you on the end of his cot, he hands you the wooden cup, nudging it closer to you with raised brows for you to take it from him. Reluctantly, you take it, a little confused as to what he’s giving you to drink. He pours the thick liquid into the cup, stopping after a few glugs. Then he pours himself one, too, waiting until the liquid touches the lip of his cup.

“Drink.” He orders, bringing his cup to his mouth as he waits for you to do the same.

Bringing it to your lips, your face screws with disgust, head turning away to get the smell out your face. You lower the cup into your lap, looking at him with an expression of perplexment.

How could he drink such a foul-smelling thing?

“Erm, no thanks... I’ll pass.” You barely get out, afraid to take a breath in.

His ears flatten in frustration, lip twitching ever so slightly. He knows this will help with the pain, so why are you being so stubborn? He doesn’t utter a single word, beady eyes piercing into yours.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll drink it... Eywa.” You say the great mother’s name like a curse, bringing the cup to your lip.

You take a sip, face contorts with revulsion, eyes watering as the liquid burns on the way down your throat. Your tongue darts out in repulsion as your eyes flicker up to him, brows raising inquisitively to ask if you drank enough.

His lips purse, and he shakes his head slightly. “All.”

You heave a sigh, rolling your eyes a little before bringing the cup back up to your lips once more. You feel a single finger rest under your hand, nudging it upwards to tilt the cup all the way back, encouraging you to take a swig. You knock it back, gulping down the viscous liquid and stick your tongue out for proof.

He nods in approval, slight smirk curling the side of his lips. He knocks his back in one go, letting out ‘ahh’ after the liquid travels down his throat. Not even a wince. He seems to enjoy the burn.

For you, the after taste is even worse, making your nose scrunch and the tears overflow from your eyes. He’s quick to wipe them away with his thumb, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear before retracting his hand entirely.

“What did I just drink?” You croak, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Fermented fruit. Pxir...” He looks at you, “Liquor.” Ralak takes the cup from you and refills it, as well as his.

Plunking it back into your hand, you look at him through pinched brows. “What does it do?”

He brings his to his wet lips, exhaling a sigh of guilt. “Pain. It will help with the pain.” He sighs, throwing his head back and swallowing the pxir in one, loud gulp.

Your features soften when you realize how he knows such a thing. “Is this what you had when you did your own tattoo?”

“Yes. Not the same. But the same effect.” He chuckles a little, impressed by your ability to put things together so quickly.

“Ah. I see.” You say, looking at the liquid as it swirls around in your cup. “So if I drink enough of this, you’d do my tattoo for me?”

“Sure.” He utters, fighting the little smile creeping on his face as he watches you chug the pxir. “But tomorrow. I have already caused you a great deal of pain today.”

Another sigh makes its way out your nose. You give up entirely, handing him the empty cup and laying down in the bed. Your bed. In your marui pod. Wondering, heavy eyes begin exploring the pod all on their own. It feels like the stilts holding the roof up are spinning, making you feel a bit woozy.

“Ralak. I feel weird.” You hiccup, heavy lidded eyes threatening to close for good. “All... bubbly.”

“Ah. My tahni.” He hums softly, sliding into bed next to you. “It will do that to you. Get some rest, okay?” He rakes his fingers through your hair, using his fingertips to massage your scalp.

“Lak. I want – I want to try again, doesn’t hurt anymore.” You blabber incoherently, trying to open your legs for him. Reminded of the pain that he brought you, Ralak shakes his head, closing your legs gently and covering you with the sheet. Snuggling into his warm chest, your eyes fall shut for the night.

“Another day.” Ralak whispers, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

Unable to sleep, he spends the rest of the night swigging straight from the bottle, bathing, and checking up on you. You’d wake every so often to him parting your legs, checking to see if you were alright.

He thought nothing of it, just one of his duties as your mate to care for you. But you’d be quick to shove away his hand, mumbling to him not to look despite the coy smile on your face, all from knowing he cares that much.

When he finished the bottle, he was woozy enough to crawl back into bed with you and snuggle behind you. His eyes finally closing when the first rays of sunshine beam through the marui pod, the same rays that wake you up.

--

[sinligh]

It’s early summer,

the hopeless romantic in me found her way to the surface when the heat melted couple of my overprotective layers.

so here i am, allowing her a moment of spotlight and myself some vulnerability.

it’s past midnight, I’m sitting in floor of my kitchen eating fruits with a knife

wondering, if it’s really safe to romanticize life?

I indulge myself anyway, and think about how fruits can be considered a love language if you’re starved enough to taste love that’s throughly stained with muted apologies. 

I trust, that when the sun rises tomorrow all my attempts to romanticize life will sublimate and create a thick fog of melancholy that I’ll have no other option but to get lost into.

even so, tonight I’m tired enough to let it be and so i write this, my own report of pathology

officially it’s untitled, but I’m thinking: the pathology of love.

i start by resecting pieces of all the habits that i define my existence based on along with some of the heartache that i held onto for too long

deep down, i know some of it belongs to my mother

At least its mature flavor says so, that, balanced with the sweet essence of an overly ripe fruit that never belonged

Young and brash and an acquired taste.

it’s a poorly fixed microscopic tissue, preserved in a high percentage of feminine rage

Low expectations stained with love and paranoia alike and the question that asks itself:

is it benign or malignant?

is it infiltrating my soul, taking away from my potential to grow ?

It stays unanswered, an unforced error

because i always carry those little versions of me that vary in the percentage of their belief in my own bone marrow

a core biopsy will always show that i still believe.

•••

•Quotes: Anaïs Nin/ Sylvia Plath/ Virgina Woolf/ Franz Kafka/Marcel Proust/ Simone de Beauvoir/Anne Carson/ Andrea Gibson/Anaïs Nin

•Original context:

•Art reference:

1. British School - Head of a girl, c. 1850. 2. Painting ( details) by Richard E. Miller. 3. Paintings by Jen Mazza. 4. Neil Carroll Original Oil Painting Realism Impressionism. 5. The Gross Clinic (details), by Thomas Eakins 6. Wounds of the Earth by xis.lanyx. 7.painting by Herbert James Draper.

[eeunoia]

ENHYPEN Imagines

insolitus | yjw.

pairings: yang jungwon x reader

synopsis: you’ve always thought jungwon is out of this world, out of ordinary. he’s someone who seems familiar but at the same time mysterious for almost everybody. you didn’t expect that he himself will unfold more of him with you and it was an insolitus experience.

word counts: 2k

warnings: yandere themes, mention of murder, violence, obsessive love, grammatical errors. (let me know if i missed some)

note: this have a part two. it was not yet ready to be released, but since some anons kept telling me to stop writing then they leave me no choice but to post something. ehe. anyway, i will fix this probably tomorrow since it doesn’t have a picture for this fic. send me asks about what you think about this. love reading your comments and replies. i love you all, please keep safe.

© eeunoia 2024 — all rights reserved.

The whole room was quiet. You might think that it was vacant, but there are two persons inside. The defeaning silence almost suffocate the officer sitting at one of the chairs. He sighs trying to lift whatever that heavy feeling he’s having ever since he entered this room.

The bright light gives a full view of the face of 17 year old, Yang Jungwon. At first look he seems to be like a normal guy, but for some reasons Officer Nam gets some odd feeling from this boy.

He draws in a sigh then taps lightly over the table while his other hand grips tightly at the folder he was holding. His eyes darted at the boy whose head hangs low at the moment and hands resting over his lap.

Despite the soft looking face, the officer couldn’t help but to feel chills while looking over his blood stained school uniform. He even have some over his face that already turned into brownish color after drying up over time.

“Okay, let me ask you again.” Office Nam cleared his throat and leaned over the table, the only thing that keeping them apart.

“I already told you, I don’t know who did it or what happened to him.” Jungwon says in a low tone, sticking to the words he said the first time they asked him.

“The blood on your shirt—” he raises his head and his brows folds in a remorseful way.

“I told y-you Sir, I found him and tried to help! His blood got all over me because of that.” Jungwon explains and he looked very convincing. The words he mutters are acceptable, but his eyes looked so blank. The police officer couldn’t point out what’s wrong, but his eyes looked so emotionless.

He kept his lips pursed into a thin line and stared at him straight to his eyes. Usually, kids his age will be in panic and can even broke into tears specially after being involve in a very serious crime. But he is different. Yang Jungwon, despite having the look of remorse and worries—makes him feel very wary. Its very unsettling.

He shuts his eyes for a while then sighs. “Okay, let’s say what you’re saying are true. But we still can’t let you go because you are our only lead to solve this crime.”

He doesn’t exactly know what he expects to happen next, but nothing prepares him for what’s about to unfold in front of him.

“So annoying.” the boy muttered lowly but enough for the officer to hear.

“Excuse me?” he asks just to make sure he heard him right.

From looking so uneasy and worried, Jungwon raises his head then leans his back comfortably over the chair. His forehead relaxed causing for the crease on it to disappear. He tilt his head while staring deadly straight to the police officer.

Shivers came rushing through the police officer’s whole body.

“I did it.” he said it so naturally. Like confessing from stealing a candy.

The corner of his lips lifts up a bit, “I killed him.” he confessed that made the officer sick in the stomach.

His heart felt like it stopped beating, cold sweats showers him and his hand froze at the sudden confession from the boy. He couldn’t properly express his own emotions because of the utter shock. He doesn’t know if it was from how the boy says those horrifying words so naturally or how he doesn’t look even bothered about it that made him like this.

It made the officer think if he’s aware of the crime he just committed. The lack of remorse and guilt are evident through his eyes. Its almost impossible to believe.

“You want to know how I did it?” he licked his lower lip and slightly straighten his back. “I grabbed a bottle and broke it. I used the sharp edges to stab him on his stomach, heart and neck.” he says and a sinister smile made it to his lips.

He leans closer, “And I repeat it again and again and again. Until he basically stopped breathing and died.” he even gave a shoulder shrug and rested his back again on the chair.

“W-Why...” the officer’s lips shakes as he stutter through his own words.

“I just want to.” Jungwon smiles as his eyes still looked dead.

Countless criminals with such horrible crimes had confessed inside this office. But this is the very first time that one actually scared and made Mr. Nam tremble in fear.

Despite all of these, he tried to gather his thoughts and composed himself. His hand slowly went down near his gun, preparing himself to anything that can happen.

“Do you know w-what consequences awaits for you because of what you did?”

Jungwon shrugs his shoulder off. “Yeah, I’m not stupid.”

The way he say every words confidently just makes the atmosphere even heavier. Normally they should be begging to take it easy on them or pleading not guilty for the crime they’re being accounted for.

But this kid...

“You can be jailed.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Yes you are a minor, but you can still serve juvenile for a few years before we can transfer you to an actual prison.” his jaw clenches together with his fist, trying to make himself look stronger. Well he has to. He’s way older than him, have more built and training. He’s also the adult inside the room so if anything, he should have the upper hand between them, right?

“Oh really?” his tone sounded so monotonous like as if it was the most boring thing he had ever heard that day.

Even before the officer can utter another word, the door to the interrogation room bursted open then revealed a man wearing a neatly ironed suit while carrying a suit case.

Officer Nam’s forehead furrowed hardly and he was about to tell them to go out as he's in the middle of a very confidential case only to be caught off guard.

He starts to wonder why this man is standing there and behind him is their Chief of Police following him like a loyal dog.

The boy didn’t even bothered looking at the newly arrived people. He rolled his eyes looking so bored and tired of this place.

“What do you think my father will feel when he knew I was here for two hours?” Jungwon asks the man that just arrived. His eyes looked dead and bored, tone serious and cold before he slowly stood up from his sit.

His aura was totally different. It was like Jungwon is a scared sheep a while ago that he used to look after, asking him what happened and so on so fort. Then suddenly that very same sheep tears off his sheep skin and revealed his true self. A fox. A predator.

Officer Nam snapped back to his senses and it took him time to realize what’s going on. His shoulder fell along with the hope to serve justice when he looked at one of the greatest lawyers in South Korea bowing at Yang Jungwon like he was so sorry for letting him stay in this interrogation room for too long.

Jungwon smirks looked so sly as he walks away from that room, the Chief even made way and apologizes for the hold. The young boy strides the police station’s hallway like a free man oozing with nothing but pride and power. Like as if he didn’t just do something horrible. As if he didn’t just killed somebody.

“Nam, we need to talk.” their Chief Officer says in a very strict tone while he closes the door behind his back.

Officer Nam kept his mouth shut and tries hard to keep his composure. His jaw clenches along with his fists under the table and his thoughts starts to wander mindlessly.

He doesn’t even need to hear what their Chief officer was about to discuss with him. He’s already aware of it. At this point, all there left is to surrender and just force himself to turn blind eye to this injustice.

After-all, he is nothing up against the Governor’s youngest son, Yang Jungwon.

They said that out of the hundred people you walk across the world, at least 1 of them are a psychopath. They can blend into the society naturally like they’re truly part of it. Like they’re totally normal and not thinking of unaliving someone in the worst way all the time.

Now, to identify that small percentage of the population started to become totally difficult. You can never know which one of the people you interact with are part of them. It can be your neighbor who greets you with big smiles every morning, it can be the traffic officer who helps you cross the street, the taxi driver, the guard by the gates of your school, your teacher or your classmates.

But never in a million chances that you will think that it can be Yang Jungwon. There is no way someone as sweet and perfect as Jungwon can be part of them. No, never. He’s undeniably handsome, from a good family, polite, responsible—president of the student council, top of your class, kind, athletic, talented, have dimples and always talks in the sweetes softest way. If one will have to point someone who is an epitome of an angel, he can be that.

So why are you inside this dark room, cuffed to a steel bar, face drenched with sweat and tears and totally scared for your life after being kidnapped by him? By Yang Jungwon.

You completely blanked out from the series of events that just occured hours ago. You remembered being with (name), arguing about how he’s so controlling and tiring for you. He was shouting at you and grabbing you over your wrist. You are expecting a slap or your hair being pulled by him, but the next thing you knew, he was down on the floor showering over his own blood. Yang Jungwon stands beside you, staring blankly at him while holding a broken bottle he just used to stab your boyfriend to death.

And the moment it finally dawned onto you, you tried to run away from him. It was too late. Jungwon manages to catch you and covered your mouth with this cloth that made you lose consciousness.

A faint creeking sound from the door made you snap back to reality. Your head perks up, eyes a little bit hopeful while heart still beats in an inconsistent pace.

“H-Help.” you tried to say, slightly choking your words because of the shock you’ve just been to.

Lights emits when it cracks open causing for you to squint your eyes slightly. The moment you saw who it was, you gulped and the corner of your eyes burns. Chest rises up and down, feeling suffocated out of fear.

Yang Jungwon stood proudly by the door. The light blue uniform coat was too familiar for you as it was what boys in your school wears almost everyday. He stares without saying anything before he slightly moves his shoulder to take off his blood stained coat.

The person beside him was quick to assist him.

“Did she eat already?” he asks casually, eyes still darted at your direction.

You trembles in fear and stares away from time to time, couldn’t really hold the eye contact longer than five seconds.

“No, young master.”

He rolls his eyes as he looked over the person beside him. Fear reflects his face as he bow his head nervously. Jungwon kept his eyes at him before he sighs and tilts his head to the side. You can almost hear that person’s sigh of relief when Jungwon started walking towards your way.

Fear flows through your system like a water as you try to push yourself near the wall, away from him. When he’s close enough, he crouches down and scanned you from head to toe.

Jungwon could not explain how excited he is as he stare at you. He couldn’t help but to let a small smile shed over his pretty lips, satisfied.

“Tell me this isn’t a dream.” he mumbles, only enough for you to hear. Tears pooled your eyes and they flow continuously to your pretty face.

Jungwon pursed his lips and stretches his hand closer to you. He gently cupped your face and using his thumb, he wiped off your tears. Despite the soft touches he gradually give you, it made you flinch but Jungwon tries to ignore it for the mean time. For now, he still couldn’t handle the thrill of having you here together with him.

“My pretty girl.” he whispers with so much adoration, eyes almost flashing heart shapes as he stares at you.

“Even if you’re crying, you are still gorgeous.” he added that made you feel sick in the stomach.

“D-Don’t touch me.” you finally manages to say as you move your face away from his touch. The smile on Jungwon’s lips fell and his eyes turned dark after what you did.

It quickly sent shivers through your spine, but you try your best not to let him see how terrified you are to him.

As he carefully scan you, he noticed how your body is shaking and his mood switches right away. Its quite fascinating even for you.

“You’re shaking, baby. Are you cold?” he asks sounding so gentle. It was almost like the same Jungwon you see around campus. It was unbelievable.

“Here,” he says after someone handed him a blanket.

He slowly helped you to wrap it over your shoulder. Suddenly, the hunger and the tiredness from resisting for hours kicked in. You have no remaining energy to even resist anymore or to even shove his hand away. Jungwon gets too excited when you let him take care of you. Its not like you have a choice.

“You’re a m-murderer.” it almost came out as a mumble, but when he stops from gently caressing your arm you knew he heard it. He looked at you and you didn’t saw any guilt. None.

“Do you hate me?” he raised his hand from holding your arm to touching your face, he cares it so gently again like you’re a very fragile thing for him.

You kept your mouth shut and just shoot him glares while tears stream down your eyes.

“He’s a terrible boyfriend anyway. He hurts you and he’s so lame.” his eyes follows a tear that escaped your eye and he went to wipe it again.

“Don’t waste your tears for him. I actually did you a favor.” and he brushes hairs stuck at your skin.

“B-By killing him?”

Jungwon pursed his lips and memory of your boyfriend screaming out of pain flashes through him for a while. He almost rolled his eyes at how pathetic he sounded a while ago, but he stopped himself.

“He doesn’t deserve you and so I thought you could use a new boyfriend.” he clenches his jaw and while holding an eye contact, he leans in and placed a soft kiss at your shoulderblades.

He almost lose his mind when he inhaled your familiar scent. The very same scent he grew addicted to. Now, he doesn’t have to settle on watching you from a far and trying to use every reasons he can use just to have a small talk with you. Now, you are here with him and you belong to him. He couldn’t be happier.

You shut your eyes and shake your head slowly, whimpering.

“P-Please just let me g-go.” your voice cracks from screaming and crying too much.

“Don’t worry, I will.” he smiled and you looked at him hopeful.

“R-Really?”

He nods his head, “Once I finally tamed and make you submit to me completely.”

Your stomach churns and hope starting to crumble down once again.

“You are a monster! Y-You will rot in hell.”

Jungwon stood up and stared down at you. His strict, cold eyes sent direct shivers down to your spine. He slides both of his hand inside his pockets while he continues looking at you.

“If that’s the price I have to pay to have you in this lifetime,” he stalls his words and smiles. “I will gladly accept my fate.”

main master-list

permanent tag-list:

@rubyanne @map-of-border @hwangjangmi @crjwon @love13tter @candewlsy @simpforniki @classicroyalty @bridgebridgebirdiebridge @hime98 @moonsclassyslore @ddeonubaby @yeoungie @acciomylove @mymeloem19 @jvngw0n @dreamjerky @minamoons @clar-iii @herasalvatore @nyfwyeonjun @rcveribin @yizhoutv @one16core @soobin-chois @kyutiepeachy @chareadingpurposes @hwalllllllelujah @solelyenha @90sni-ki @nourhan-8 @nikipedia07 @yangbreads @drunkjazed @kimmchijjajang @hoonbrry @axartia @all4haru @sta-rie @hiqhkey @purplepuppychild @iceeee @wtfhyuck @tobiosbbyghorl @nikililmj @moonlightisland @ayayiiie @aeyeree @bitchychildmiracle

[bunnob]

How the brothers react to you scolding them pt2

Part 1 is linked at the bottom

Satan-

We all know he likes to pull pranks on Lucifer, well this particular time it back fired. Satan put a curse on a stack of student council work intending for Lucifer to pick it up and turn into a cat, unfortunately you were sent to retrieve the papers from the council room and upon picking the papers up you were suddenly a small fur ball. Satan came running into the room with a camera hoping to get a picture to humiliate Lucifer with but instead saw a feline version of MC. Upon realizing the error he made he was much happier and tried to pet you which left him needing several band-aids and a sour expression on his face as Solomon reverted you back to normal.

Asmo-

Asmo is a notorious flirt in the Devildom, he commonly would flirt with others and ghost the leaving them nothing but a broken heart. The latest person he pulled this stunt on came crying to you begging you to ask Asmo why he left, when you got back to the HOL you asked Asmo about what he did and he proceeded to talk about how it was all a game which made you mad. You yelled at him telling him that people's feelings shouldn't be toyed with and how what he was doing was wrong, he stopped playing his "games" after but was a little bitter about the lack entertainment he was having.

Beel-

You came home one day after a long conference with Lucifer excited to eat your left overs after a day of not having time to eat, you open the fridge and their gone not even a smudge of its existence where you left it, no problem you'll just find something else. Imagine your horror when your grumbling stomach is beginning for food and everything had been cleaned out. There was only one person in all 3 world that could do that and you were ready to fight them, you open the door to see been in his bed eating a bag of chips, you quickly grabbed the bag away from him and started to question him about the missing food and he proceeded to tell you how sorry he was and that he thought he was gonna starve to death. Beel is supper sorry and takes you to Hells Kitchen to make up for it.(he steals that food too, but only a few fries)

Belphigor-

He's a blanket snatcher with no shame, you two will be in bed all warm one second and the second Belphie comes you'll be freezing in the middle of the night, when you try to reclaim your blanket he shoves you out of the bed, eventually you give up a d move to the attic but he follows you, he tries to lay down but you kick him out telling him that he can't sleep with you until he fixes his blanket snatching issues. He was displeased with this and as petty revenge he stole all your blankets for a couple weeks.(enjoy sleeping in the cold)

(OH wow, I didn't expect as many likes in part 1 as I did I'm so glad you guys like it, I'll post side characters tomorrow. Please let me know if you want to see other work I'd be happy to obliged. )

[xpeachesncream]

seven with you | bands drabble (jjk)

↳ drabbles masterlist

yours (ft. the bands!couple) | drabble seven: it’s time for jungkook’s solo debut and you have a few feelings about it.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: cussing, mature language, oc experiencing jealousy and insecurity, oc is very supportive but inevitably feels insecure and scared, kook being protective of his family as always, soft and sweet unprotected sex, cowgirl 🤠, making out, neck kisses, sprinkle of breast play, pls excuse any errors as i quickly whipped this up!

a/n: anon, this is for you! 💞 ironically this is my 7th drabble for the couple 😅 hehe coming back to continue feeding into all the thoughts, fantasies, etc etc because of seven promotions. much love, hope you enjoy! so sorry if i missed anyone on my perm taglist, its been so long! i’ll be back again soon 🥰

"So, what's hyung doing? Is he still at rehearsal?" Kai asks on the other line as you sit on the hotel bed, scrolling through your laptop.

"Yeah, he's still rehearsing for tomorrow."

"Do you know anything about the video?" You chuckle a bit and shake your head as if your little brother can see you.

"Mm, no.. besides who's involved. He wanted to keep it a surprise."

"Interesting." Kai laughs. "You're going in blindly with everyone else."

"I sure am." You laugh. "But, it'll be good! I'll get to experience this with everyone. I know it'll be amazing no matter what."

"How come you didn't wanna be in the video?"

"It's not that, I just always told Kook that he shouldn't let me hinder his process. If he wants me involved, then he can get me involved. If not and he chooses to do his own thing, then I'll sit back and support as I always do."

"Truthfully, did you want to be in the video?"

"I mean.." You hum as you tilt your head to the side. "It would've been cute."

"Then, why did you say no?"

"Kai. I just.. didn't want him to feel obligated. Plus, to be frank, I wasn't even sure if I was comfortable. I think Kook could tell, and he didn't wanna force it after that. Or, maybe he just had a revelation and thought it’d be better off not involving me.” You joke.

"Nothing is better off without you, you know that. But, of course. I get everything else that you’re saying.”

"I trust his process, though. I always do."

"True." He laughs. "Okay, shoot. It's about to release." You keep your eyes on the laptop as the music video starts, keeping your brother on the line as he promised he'd watch with you. He was currently at the Choi residence while you ventured out to New York with Jungkook— supporting him from the sidelines for the beginning of his 'Seven' promotions.

You smile as you see Jungkook and Han So Hee together at the table, praising her for being so beautiful and flawless. You giggle every now and then at Jungkook, but then you start to fix on the little details;

The chase.

His effort— though a bit much that it makes you giggle, the effort is there.

The way he looks at her, waits for her at the end.

Holds her hand and walks along her side.

Maybe you should've said yes to being in the video in the first place, then you wouldn't be in this predicament. Though, she fits well. The vibe is immaculate.

Their dynamic? Strong.

Let's take a moment to be real: part of you felt a little jealous at her flawless execution, a little insecure observing how perfect she is. It seems a bit silly if you generally look at it since Jungkook was Jungkook. But, you couldn't help it. You still weren't used to it, even if you reminded yourself every day that your man was Jeon Jungkook.

Even if you reminded yourself of your story with Jeon Jungkook.

Kai is still on the phone, slightly pulling you back to reality with his comments about how 'good hyung looked in the video' and how 'they worked well together.' He must have been tiptoeing with his words, especially when he quickly flips the script and starts to mention the explicit version that still needed to be listened to.

You follow the lead, playing it on your computer while Kai sat on speaker phone. You can hear the audible gasps coming from his end, your own eyes widening at the switch in the lyrics, the sudden shift of the entire song.

Although you were incredibly proud of Jungkook for continuing to step out of his comfort zone, you felt yourself shrinking and shrinking—

Falling into the never-ending pit of insecurity, jealousy, assumptions, what if's, etc etc.,

It was past midnight. Why was rehearsal taking forever?

Felt like hours, and hours.

"The explicit version— I— Wow. There is a lot to unpack here. But, I can't even say that I'm surprised. Hyung pulls it off well. Wanna be like him some day. He just doesn't care what anybody thinks, and he's so cool." Kai laughs with Yeonjun in the background as they continue to listen to the explicit version with you. You hear a faint 'I don't think this version was meant for us' coming from Yeonjun, a small giggle leaving your lips at their commentary.

"Stop." You say just as Jungkook gives three light knocks on the door before tapping the key against the reader and swinging it open. "Hey, I'll call you back later okay? Jungkook just got back."

"Okay! Tell hyung congrats on the solo debut and that we really liked it!"

"I will. Love you."

"Love you too!" He says as he hangs up the call. Jungkook strolls in with a big smile on his face as he types away at his phone, small giggles leaving his lips as he approaches you on the bed.

"Babygirl." He smiles at and you places a quick kiss on your lips. "Was that Kai?"

"Yeah, it was." You give him a tiny, pursed smile. "He said congrats on the solo debut and that him and his friends really liked everything." Jungkook pauses before he responds because he's typing another message before shoving his phone back into his pocket.

"Aw, thanks. That's my guy. Can always count on him." You let out a tiny laugh before avoiding his eyes, silently looking down at your laptop and letting your finger swipe across the trackpad. "You didn't have to wait up, love."

"Of course I did. I needed to catch it at release." You look up at him briefly. "How was rehearsal?"

"Fucking tiring, but we got through it. I'm excited for everyone to see the performances." He smiles and sits next to you. "So, what'd you think?"

"You two were great together, Kook. It was great.” You simply state.

"We were, weren't we? She was so helpful. And I felt at ease, like I didn't have to try much. She was such a natural at everything, it made things go by a lot smoother.”

"I can tell." You respond softly— probably a little too softly because Jungkook's smile slightly fades. Then, the thoughts start to swarm again just as you look at him. You quickly divert your attention by subtly biting onto your bottom lip, looking towards the hotel window when cars are honking their horns out on the street.

Of course, they were assumptions.

But of course, they were stupid, silly little thoughts stemming from your insecurity; occupying every corner of your brain, making you believe this skewed perception, this-whole-thing-that-is-a-thing-but-not-really-a-thing-because-there-aren't-any-facts-to-back-it-up—

"Hey." He pulls you out of your thoughts by taking your chin and making your eyes meet his own deep, brown orbs. "Talk to me, baby. I can hear you thinking. D-did you not like it? It's okay if not, you know? You can tell me. I value your opinion more than anything"

"What, no!" You shake your head. "I mean, no, of course I loved it. I loved every bit of it. It's amazing, and you know you always blow me away with everything you do." You cup his cheeks and let out a soft sigh. "I really do think you're amazing. I just.. maybe part of me kind of regrets not doing this with you?" He lets out a small breath before taking your hands in his and placing a gentle kiss on your palm.

"Are you saying that just because you saw her in the video?"

"Maybe? And, it did look easy. Everything looked so natural, especially for her. You two meshed well. I—I don’t know. I’m not really sure where I’m going with this anymore."

"Hm." He hums before tapping your thigh and bringing you onto his lap. You brush the hair out of his face while he wraps his arm around your waist, laying a gentle kiss on your cheek. "Baby, you know when I told you about it, I could tell you weren't comfortable with the idea. The last thing I wanna do is make you uncomfortable or unhappy."

"No, I know, Kook. It's not your fault. Trust me. It was beautiful and I really enjoyed it. I just.. felt a bit insecure especially since you didn't push on it. I thought you realized I wouldn’t work. She was way better and you totally saw that. You had this vision with her, and the thought made me feel a bit jealous too. I guess."

"I know this is easier said than done, but don't be. I love you." He brushes the hair away from your face this time. "You don't have to go out of your way to stand out or catch my attention. You don't have to prove anything to me, anyone. Plus, part of me felt kinda dumb for implying the idea knowing how it'd make you feel and how much attention it'd bring."

"What do you mean?"

"I realized it was probably better off this way simply because I didn't want people to paint this picture about us, or to assume our relationship was a certain way. I know there's already lots of things to be said about the video or the song itself, about our story— but at the end of the day, they don't know us like we know us and I'd prefer to keep it that way."

Because even though the relationship is out there, it's not out there. Jungkook tries to keep things balanced, keeping things private as much as possible out of safety— to create boundaries between his professional and private life. He would always put you and Kai first, keeping your safety, your comfortability and your happiness a priority.

Over everything, anything.

The moment he felt your uneasiness while mentioning the video, he retracted. He never wanted to force you, or make you do something that was too out of your comfort zone. He didn't want to cross that line of putting too much out there because he was happy with how things were. It was enough, just enough. And that's all he needed.

You were happy, Kai was happy.

Why would he ever push and ruin that?

"You're right. I understand."

"I hope that helps put you at ease a bit, princess. You can always talk to me about it. There was really no other reason behind me not pushing the idea." He caresses your cheek. "Okay? Nothing else." He kisses your cheek, before your lips. He gently taps the side of your hips before adjusting you on his lap and having you straddle him full on. You wrap your arms around his neck while he stares at you in pure adoration, a smile painted across his lips before he speaks again— "You're my muse. You're in everything that I do, bits of you are sprinkled everywhere. Everywhere that I go, songs that I've created, lyrics scribbled on paper, doodles on my notebook— everything." His hands travel up your sides, giving them a tiny squeeze as he lets out a small exhale against your lips. "You will always be my muse."

"I'm sorry, Jungkook."

"Don't be sorry." He chuckles a bit. "Everything you felt was valid, and I always want you to come to me about these things." You rest your forehead against his.

"I really did enjoy it, though. You always blow me away with everything you do." You kiss him just as you wrap your arms tightly around his neck.

"Yeah?" He chases after your lips, large hands grazing your back as he holds you close to him.

"Mhm." You giggle before poking the tip of his nose. "And uh, the explicit version of the song— we listened to it right before you walked in."

"Cool, huh?" You laugh and shake your head.

"You're crazy."

"You know.." He smirks before biting onto his bottom lip. "Think there's a little bit more explaining I can do for that one. But, I think it'd be better if I showed you."

"Oh?" You watch as Jungkook tears his beanie off and tosses it aside. "I think that'd be good." He leans forward for another kiss— but this time, it's deep. Deep enough for Jungkook to take in a strong inhale through his nose, shakily letting out an exhale once he parts from your lips. He doesn't waste any time before he's kissing you again, tongue swiping against your bottom lip before easing it in. His fingers trace your bare skin underneath your shirt, tips digging into your sides again when he feels you slowly rock against him— his length growing incredibly hard beneath you.

"Yeah, it would be good. Right?" He lets out a small moan in between kisses, hissing when he feels your lips make their way down to his jaw, neck. His hands travel to the hem of the shirt you're wearing, slowly prying it off and tossing it aside. He continues to sit on the edge of the bed while you straddle him, your hands now fiddling with his shirt before he pulls it over his head and joins yours off to the side.

"You aren't tired?" You lay some lazy kisses along his throat, sucking and nipping gently on the surface while his fingers tug at the fabric of your panties.

"Nope, not anymore." You make your way back up to his lips, relishing in every kiss, every squeeze— every bit of Jungkook. Midway, he finally helps you out of your panties before shifting his sweats and boxers down enough to let his cock spring free.  

"You sure?" You tease as you waste no time wrapping your hand around his member, pumping him a few times while listening to him let out a few moans.

"Positive, baby. Need you." He mutters as he signals for you to sink down his length. You do as told, slowly, easily, sinking down until he completely fills you up and bites his bottom lip. "Just like that. Right where you should be."

"Feel so full already, Kook." He chuckles as he adjusts himself better on the bed, tattooed hands traveling up your back, caressing your body, as he showers your tits with kisses. He takes a nipple into his mouth, tongue circling around the hardened peak before pulling back with a pop. Just as you continue to roll against him, he takes the other— giving his tongue a little more freedom to explore before sucking and giving it a quick pop. He continues to shower your chest with feathery kisses, moving to your shoulders and arms while you continue to set the tempo.

"So good— fuck." He moans. "You're doing so good, baby." He tightens his grip around your hips as he continues to praise you. "Just like that." He repeats. You whine, lips grazing his as you work him, ride him— feeling every inch of Jungkook inside of you. The way that your walls engulf him— squeeze him— with every roll of your hips makes it hard for him to hold on. Though, he can tell you're slowly tipping over the edge.

It's the way your face contorts in pleasure.

Your inaudible, silent moans.

The way your body stiffens when you work against him, relishing every bit of his cock before repeating the rhythm.

And he's right, you are close. So close. Jungkook pulls you into a sloppy, wet kiss before he slightly backs away to observe your face, you. He chases after your lips once more, biting onto your bottom lip and making you let out a moan that sounds like music to his ears.

The chase.

His effort.

The way he looks at you in pure adoration, easing you to the edge to see you in pure ecstasy.

Holding you close, keeping his hands on you at all times.

You continue picking up the pace a bit, causing enough friction against your heat. Jungkook calls your name, whispering sweet nothings against your lips as his hand rests on the nape of your neck— the other hand still on your hip. He starts to match your rhythm, your tone, thrusting upwards into you to fully tip you over the edge.

"Kook, I'm— I'm gonna— fuck." You whine as you become desperate, feeling the high settle into the pit of your gut. Finally, you tremble against him and moan loudly against him; hand squeezing his tattooed bicep, the other tangled in his black locks.

"That's it. Good girl." He caresses your back, continuing to thrust himself into you even as you try to come back down from your high. But now, he's there, and he's desperate for his own release. "You're my babygirl. You're everything to me. Everything." You moan loudly with him as he gives you one, two, powerful thrusts. "Everything that I do, everywhere I go. You're my muse. You're mine." He says against your ear, panting as he snaps his hips against you at a faster pace while holding you close; the sound of flesh against flesh filling the room. It's not long before Jungkook is coming undone, the aftershocks still rippling through your body. His cheek is pressed against yours as he pants and lets out a few whines, your walls milking every last bit of him until the very end.

"Kook." You whisper. "I love you. I'm so proud of you and I love you." He laughs lazily as he rubs at your hips.

"I love you too, princess. Good enough explanation for that?"

"Maybe." You giggle as you hop off and scurry off to the bathroom for a quick shower.

"I mean.. we can do more—" He trails behind you and welcomes himself into the shower.

"Jungkook, you need to be up in 3 hours." Your voice echoes in the shower and Jungkook scrunches his nose.

"And?" He laughs. "Running on no sleep is how I work."

"You're too much." You giggle when Jungkook turns you around and wraps his arms around you.

"Baby, baby, baby." He says smugly. "There's more that I'll need to show you, especially for the album."

"Jungkook." You try to scold him but you squeal when he has you wrap your legs around him and presses your back against the tiled wall— the night only leading to more sweet nothings, praises and genuine love. Jungkook loving on you, just as you with him.

Because, you are his muse. You are in everything he does, bits of you sprinkled in everything.

No matter the circumstance. No matter the day, time, year.

You will always be his muse.

permanent taglist: @spideyjimin​ @miinoongi​ @thebeebi​ @ggukkieland​ @bluesharksandfish​ @unicornbabylover​ @preciouschimine​ @codeinebelle​ @shesoldbutcute​ @jikookiekosmos​ @awhnamjoon​ @namjooningelsewhere​ @bunnybearrj​ @babycoffeefire​ @bri-mal​ @sintaethick​ @taejkjoons​ @love2luvya-blog​ @pb-n-juju​ @dianaxnyc​ @fan-ati--c​ @jungjoonie​ @jcsmae​ @favouritesblog​ @ppeachyttae​ @awseokjin​ @jjk1iscoming​ @moonchild1​ @vantxx95​ @genzslayer @knjeuphoria​ @jksjx​ @oogawooga222​ @yoonqki @halesandy​ @chimchimmarie​ @chimsworldsstuff​ @persphonesorchid​

[sirjaketkiszka]

Jake One Shot: Party Planning

You and Jake are tasked with decorating the house for Sam’s surprise party. Problem is; you can’t stand each other. With tensions high, there’s only one way to fix that.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Jake x Fem!Reader

Word count: 5,163

Warnings: 18+!!, smut, unprotected sex, slight edging, degradation, begging, dirty talk, oral f!receiving, fingering, cursing, light overstimulation, cream pie, and, of course, mediocre writing.

Disclaimer: apologies for any potential spelling errors or grammar mistakes.

Jake One Shot Masterpost

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Sam’s surprise party is tomorrow, and the rest of us are finally setting up last minute in Sam’s house. He’s staying at Josh’s house tonight, hopefully clueless as to what is conspiring in his own home. Jake and I, unfortunately, have been tasked with putting the decorations up.

“Okay, Danny and I are heading out to the grocery store for the party!” Josh yells from the front door, “You two behave!” He adds, leaving with Danny, the door slamming behind them.

We won’t, but not for the reason you’d think. I’ve always butted heads with Jake; we’re both stubborn, we both need to be in control, and he’s just the most irritating person I’ve ever met in my life.

Just as I’d expected, Jake is lounging on the recliner in Sam’s living room, definitely not putting up any decorations. He’s lazily strumming on an acoustic guitar that Sam keeps lying around, but never plays. “Really, Jake?” I let out a frustrated sigh, my hands resting on my hips.

“What?” He asks, playing stupid.

“You know what,” My voice grows irritated, “We’re supposed to finish setting up tonight, Jake. The party is tomorrow!”

“I did my job already,” He says with a nonchalant tone, not even looking at me. He’s mouthing quiet words as he plucks the guitar’s strings, carrying a familiar tune.

“Bringing the decorations doesn’t count,” I huff, stepping closer and grabbing the neck of the guitar, halting his strumming, “Come on, Jake, it’ll be quick.”

“Say ‘please’ then,” He replies, finally looking up at me from the chair.

“Okay, forget it,” No fucking way am I begging him to help me, “If you’re not going to help me, why are you still here?” I ask, releasing the guitar neck and stepping back, resuming my previous stance with my hands on my hips.

“What? I can’t enjoy your company?” He teases.

“Absolutely not.” I say, rolling my eyes. “We don’t ‘enjoy’ each other’s company.”

“I might.” He says while getting up from the recliner. He carefully sets the guitar back onto its stand next to the brick fireplace.

“Ha-ha, you’re hilarious.” My tone is dry and sarcastic.

“If you ask nicely, I might just help you.” He smirks, stepping closer to me.

“Forget it, Jake, just go.” My head tilts slightly when he gets closer, but I stand my ground regardless.

“Come on,” He pushes, nearly standing toe-to-toe with me now. “Say ‘please.’”

“No, Jake!” I yell, irritation causing the pitch of my voice to go higher, “Jesus, you are so– so– infuriating! You can’t just help set up for your little brother’s birthday party, can you?”

“Calm down, geez,” He chuckles and puts his hands up in defense, “You get so worked up over nothing.”

He can’t be serious. He started it! My right eye twitches slightly, and my heart rate begins to climb. I take a step back, “Whatever.” I scoff.

“You’re so easy to piss off,” He laughs. He fucking laughs.

“I- God, I can’t stand you,” A disbelieving laugh manages to escape me, “ I swear, it’s like your sole purpose on this planet is to get under my skin.” That makes him frown.

“And you don’t think you get under mine?” He asks and tilts his head to the side, his playful tone dissipating, overtaken by bitterness.

“No, I know I do,” I say, “But not on purpose.”

“Of course, it’s on purpose,” His voice grows a little louder, “Ever since you walked through our front door as Sam’s new friend, you’ve tried getting under my skin!”

“Me?! No, you!” My hand leaves my hip, my pointer finger poking his chest. When did he get closer? “You were rude to me the second I walked through that door!”

“Not true.” He states.

“Jake, you wouldn’t even talk to me!” I’m yelling now, my eyes wide with fury, “You acted like you hated me!”

“That’s not true,” He repeats himself, his brows furrowing as he shakes his head and stares at the ground.

“Then why? Why don’t you like me, Jake?!” I poke my finger harder into his chest.

“Because you drive me fucking crazy!” He yells, his eyes snapping up and holding mine. His outburst causes my eyes to widen further in surprise, and my mouth hangs open for a moment. I take a step back.

“You drive me crazier!” I yell back, scoffing. He’s quiet now.

Taking my finger off his chest, I take another step back, gaining some distance between us. I intend to leave the room, needing some space from him. Just as I turn away from him, I feel his hand grip my bicep, pulling me against his chest. Before I can open my mouth to say anything, his lips are on mine in a firm, angry kiss. A surprised, muffled yelp leaves my throat, and I yank myself off of him.

“Jake, what the fuck are you doing?!” I ask demandingly, my chest heaving from mixed emotions; anger, surprise, confusion, and– arousal.

“I don’t know,” He steps closer, and I don’t move back, “but I don’t care, either.” His grip is still on my upper arm, calloused fingers sinking into the soft flesh. He leans back in, his lips just ghosting over mine, his soft pants through parted lips cascading warm breaths on mine, “Is this okay?” He asks sincerely.

“Yes,” I rush out in a huff.

“Good,” He says before firmly planting his lips on mine. My eyes flutter close, and my arms desperately wrap around his neck in an attempt to deepen the kiss, releasing his previous hold on my arm. My lips move swiftly against his. The kiss is sloppy, hungry, and needy. His hands search every curve; my waist, my back, and my ass before coming up to rest on the sides of my face.

His tongue brushes against my lower lip, and I part my lips slightly, letting him invade my mouth. We both moan when the taste of our spit floods our senses. He tastes faintly of cigar smoke, and rum, the sensation shooting to my heating core.

Our breathing becomes heavy, the air shooting from our nostrils, refusing to break the kiss. Growing impatient, he gathers my lower lip between his teeth, sucking on it then tugging slightly. Needing to breathe, I pull away, resting my forehead on his. We’re both panting with our hands still on grasping at each other.

“Jake-” I begin to speak.

“I need to fuck you,” He cuts me off, his hands traveling from my face to my waist, pulling me so our hips are aligned. I let out a small gasp when I feel his erection pushing against my lower belly. My face flushes, rosy hues forming in my lower peripheral.

“We can’t–” I say, making him frown, “Not here.” I quickly add.

“Yes, here,” He urges.

“But what if–”

“They won’t.” He answers before I can ask my question.

“Okay,” I respond in a single breath, and he doesn’t wait a beat to quickly guide me to the couch behind me, opposite to the recliner. His lips are on mine again as he sits me down. He doesn’t sit down with me, however, because he gets down on his knees in front of me, in between my legs. I break our kiss, “What are you–”

“Take your shirt off,” He demands. Without thinking, my hands immediately fly to the bottom of my shirt, bunching the hem and pulling it over my body. I fling my shirt to the floor and watch as Jake’s pupils dilate. His gaze is fixed on my heaving chest, my bra still on.

Leaning forward, he cups both of my breasts, his face just centimeters away from them. I feel him press soft kisses along my cleavage and sucking on the curves of my breasts. My breath grows shaky when his tongue licks up from my breast to my neck, leaving a wet strip behind.

He gently blows on my neck, the cold trail of spit sending a chill down my spine. He’s leaving sloppy kisses along my collarbone, nipping in all the right places. Sweet moans tangle with heavy breaths when he sucks lightly on the base of my neck, being careful not to leave any visible marks.

Slowly, his kisses trail down from my neck to my breasts, and even lower, to my stomach. He stops above the waistband of my pants, his hands releasing from my breasts as he toys with the button of my jeans. I allow him to unbutton them, but he pulls the zipper down agonizingly slow.

His eyes become dark at the sight of my panties peeking through, his bottom lip catching in between his teeth. “Can I?” He asks, referring to taking my pants off.

When I nod, he wastes no time hooking his fingers into the hem of my jeans, yanking them down. I lift my hips to allow him to take them off, leaving me in my underwear and bra. His eyes slowly rake over my entire body; my chest rising and falling rapidly, my stomach clenching in anticipation, and my legs spread open in front of him.

Placing his hands on the tops of my knees, he leans forward, his head between my thighs, and places a kiss on my clothed cunt. A sharp gasp enters my lungs as my back slightly arches off the couch, a wave of heat rushing to my belly.

“So sensitive,” He says quietly to himself. He turns his head and presses soft kisses on my inner thigh, his teeth nibbling on the doughy flesh in between kisses. My knees twitch beside him, aching to close around his head. He smirks when he looks up at me; no doubt, extremely flushed, a panting mess, and eyebrows knitting together. One of his hands leaves my knee and hooks around the crotch of my underwear, pulling it to the side to expose my pussy. “And so wet.” He adds with amusement on his tongue.

A small whine is caught in my throat as I wait for him to do something— anything. His eyes leave mine when he leans back in, his tongue swiping a long, thorough lick up the slit of my cunt. His eyes roll slightly before closing, and he hums in satisfaction. He’s quick to lick again– an extended sigh passes my lips and descends over my chest.

“Jake,” I whisper his name, my eyelids fluttering at the sensation.

“You taste so good,” His response is muffled between my thighs, “Lift your legs for me.” I eagerly nod at his request, and his other hand leaves my knee, allowing me to pull my legs up to my chest, exposing more of myself to him. His free hand comes to rest on the back of my thigh, pinning me in place as his tongue pokes at my entrance. He looks up at me, watching as my face contorts to reflect my pleasure.

His eyes leave mine once more as he focuses on my needy cunt. He pushes his tongue deeper inside of me, his nose resting snugly against my aching clit. The action causes me to inhale a sharp gasp, his eyes flashing up and lips twitching with mischief.

He starts moving his head in a steady rhythm, each pump nudging his nose against my clit, making my pussy clench around his pointed tongue.

“Fuck, Jake, that feels so good,” I sigh, my eyes closing in pure bliss and my hands flying into his hair. He hums in response when I tug at the roots, encouraging his movements. In a swift movement, he pushes his tongue in as far as it’ll go, slightly shaking his head to nuzzle his nose onto my clit. “Fuck! I’m gonna come!” I cry out, my back arching off the couch.

With that, he pulls away, causing my eyes to shoot open to look at him with a pleased smirk on his face. His lips are a darker shade of pink, and they’re plump. My juices soak his chin and nose, the sight making my pussy clench around nothing. “Do you deserve it?” He asks.

“What?” I frown, a little confused.

“Do you deserve to come?” He clarifies.

“I don’t—” I try to collect my thoughts.

“Ask nicely,” He smirks, recalling his earlier words, “and I might just let you.”

“Are you serious?” I ask, huffing out a frustrated breath.

“Just say ‘please’” He smiles, pressing a kiss to my thigh, “Don’t you want it?”

“Yes,” I sigh, my eyelids fluttering close at his affection.

“Say it,” He continues peppering soft kisses on my inner thighs, alternating between the two. His eyes are fixed on my face, waiting for my response.

“Please, Jake,” I beg hesitantly, opening my eyes to look at him when I say, “Make me come.”

“Good girl,” He whispers, his attention drawing back to my center. He leans in, his mouth immediately on my clit, sucking harshly.

“God, yes,” I gasp, my back arching further off the couch, making my hips grind onto his mouth. They continue to move impulsively against his lips, creating constant friction. I feel the heat pooling in my lower belly, sending knowing pulses straight to my core. “More,” I silently beg.

The hand resting on the back of my thigh comes down to my entrance, and I feel a slight pressure. His index and middle fingers slide in easily, my walls immediately stretching to invite them in. Without missing a beat, he starts pumping his fingers slowly, curling them upward to brush against my G-spot. With the mixed feeling of the pulsing on my clit and his fingers fucking me, my climax is near the edge, waiting to be pushed over.

With my hands still in his hair, they pull him deeper into me, my hips still grinding against him. When I tug harder at his roots, he groans into me, the sensation sending vibrations straight to my clit.

“Fuck, yes, Jake!” I yell, a gasping, panting mess. The grinding of my hips stalls, my orgasm hitting me hard. The tightened coil in my stomach snaps, sending ripples of heat down my entire body. My body spasms, the waves of my climax causing my hips to jerk against his lips even more. Desperate cries leave my lips, my eyes closing and eyebrows scrunching at the final pulses of my release.

His fingers continue to move slowly inside of me, dragging out the remaining bits of my orgasm. He plants a lingering kiss on my swollen clit, pulling a quiet, tired yelp out of me. When he pulls away and removes his fingers, his lips shine with my release, and his fingers glisten.

“Taste it,” He suggests, his eyes watching my curious expression. He brings his fingers to my lips, resting his fingertips on my bottom lip. “Open.” He orders.

Reluctantly, I open my mouth slightly and allow him to push his fingers in. My release immediately floods my tastebuds, and his eyes intently watch for a reaction. When his fingers reach the back of my throat, he holds them there. “Suck.” He orders again, my eyes watering.

I do as he says and suck on his fingers. He pulls them out slightly and pushes them back in, the tips of his fingers resting on the very back of my tongue. I hum, trying to distract myself from the intrusion, and to keep myself from gagging.

When he finally pulls his fingers from my mouth, I try to suck in a breath, but his lips are immediately on mine when he kneels up from his position. I moan into his mouth when he pushes his tongue into mine, chasing the taste of myself on my tongue. When my tongue tangles with his, he groans, needy hands finding and gripping my waist. He turns me and lays me down so that I’m lying horizontally on the couch.

Our lips continue to move against each other with heavy breaths released from our noses. When he lays on top of me, he separates my legs, settling between them. I inhale a sharp breath when I feel his firm bulge press against my cunt, now covered by my underwear again.

His hips grind into me, causing his bulge to rub against my spread cunt. I let out a moan, but the kiss immediately swallows it. He keeps a steady rhythm, and continues to grind as we hungrily kiss each other; nipping and sucking at each other’s plump-kissed lips. The remaining feeling of my previous orgasm adds to the sensation, the overstimulation causing me to whimper.

“Just listen to you,” He whispers on my lips, “so sweet.” He mumbles, firmly grinding his hips again, causing me to swallow a loud gasp.

“Jake,” I whimper.

“Yes?” He asks, a cocky smirk on his lips, “What do you want?”

“Fuck me, please,” I shamelessly beg.

“Yeah?” He grinds again. “Is that what you want, baby?” Baby?

“Yes,” I desperately sigh.

“Since you asked so nicely,” He taunts. His grip on my waist tightens and he flips me around, causing me to rest on my stomach. His hand swats my ass, making me yelp in surprise. I feel his hands move from my waist to my hips, pulling upward so my ass is snug against his hips. I hear a quiet groan come from him, prompting me to look over my shoulder. His gaze is on my backside, his hands absentmindedly rubbing in circles over my hips and ass. “You look so fucking good like this.” He says, now looking at me.

“Please, Jake,” I beg, growing needier.

“I couldn’t get you to say please before,” He teases, “Now you can’t stop saying it.” A dark chuckle leaves his throat. He’s still fully clothed as he’s admiring me, who’s half-naked and trembling with want. Like he read my mind, he swiftly takes his shirt off over his head, presenting his attractive physique. His upper arm muscles flex with every movement, and his soft abs tighten as well. Unable to keep my eyes off of him, my bottom lip catches in between my teeth.

Struggling to reach behind me, I try to slip my underwear off my hips. Although, just as my fingers hook into the elastic waistband, his hands catch mine, stopping me. “Keep them on.”

“But–” I start.

He shushes me, guiding my hands to rest on either side of my head. His hands take their time returning to my hips, gliding over my shoulders, spine, and curves. In the process, he unclips my bra, the straps lying loosely on my shoulders.

The anticipation is killing me when I feel a finger pull my panties to the side, presenting my wet cunt to him. He lets out a heavy exhale, the breath cascading down my ass and arched back. His other hand leaves my hip, and he fumbles with the fly of his pants.

I watch as he unzips his jeans, and successfully unbuttons them with one hand. He hooks his thumb into the waistband of his boxers and pulls them down. I swear I feel my pupils dilate and my eyes darken when I see glimpses of his shaft. When he finally frees his cock and pulls his pants down to his knees, an involuntary groan escapes me in a needy breath.

His cock immediately springs upward without the confines of his boxers and jeans. Gripping his shaft, he lazily strokes it. I look at his face but his eyes are already on mine, his mouth slightly agape and eyebrows knitting in concentration. His bicep flexes with every stroke of his cock, and precum leaks out of the tip.

“Do you want me to fuck you, baby?” He asks sweetly, though I’m sure it’s insincere.

“Yes,” I rush out, “Please.”

“How bad do you need it?” He urges.

“So bad, Jake,” I whine, “I need you to fuck me so bad.”

“That’s fucking right,” He nudges his hips forward, his tip pressing against my entrance, “You do.” His strokes on his cock have stalled, and he’s now focusing on rubbing up and down my slit with his tip.

“Just fuck me, Jake,” I quietly cry out, “Please.”

“Poor thing,” He mocks. When his tip swipes to my entrance again, he pauses and lines his cock up with it. My hands clench the couch beneath me when he pushes his hips against me, his cock entering me slowly, inch by inch. I feel my walls stretch around him, the sensation causing me to breathe deeply. A groan of relief exits him when he fully sinks into me, the base of his shaft completely consumed by me. “So fucking wet. Feels so good.” He whispers to himself.

After a moment of staying still, he picks up a slow rhythm, sliding in and out of me thoroughly to allow myself to adjust. With every pump, there is less resistance, and eventually, he’s able to thrust into me with no problem. We’re both panting when he decides to pick up the pace, his hands finding and gripping my hips for leverage.

His hold on me is strong, his grip tightening with each pump, and the sound of his hips smacking against my ass fills the living room. A string of incoherent moans and curses leave my lips, and concentrated grunts catch in his throat.

“Faster, Jake,” I plead.

His pace picks up and the tip of his cock brushes in all the right places. My grip on the couch tightens with the force of his thrusts driving me deeper into the soft cushions. His speed is relentless, his balls slapping against my clit with every grinding force.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” My words come out in a chanting rhythm with the pitch of my voice growing high when my second climax threatens to snap in my core.

“Tell me how good this feels,” He says behind me, his voice straining.

“It feels so fucking good, Jake,” I cry.

“How do I make you feel?” He adds.

“So good,” I whine, “You make me feel so good, Jake.”

“So pathetic,” He mumbles, “begging and whining for me to fuck you.” His chuckle is sinister, “You’ll never be able to forget what it feels like when I fuck you.”

“Jake–”

“Shut up,” He grunts through bared teeth, one hand leaving my hip and pushing on the side of my head, making my head sink further into the couch cushions. “No more talking.”

He keeps his rapid pace, our skin sticking and slapping together. The sounds of him on me and the sounds of his rough grunts fill my ears, the sensation going straight to my gut.

“This will never be enough,” He’s rambling to himself, his disappointed tone carrying through steady pants, “I will always want more.”

His confusing words cause my eyes to drift back at him, his hand still pressing against the side of my face. His eyebrows are furrowed and his jaw hangs somewhat open; similar to what I’ve seen on stage when he plays. A rush of pleasure shoots to my cunt.

He removes his hand from the side of my face and returns to holding both of my hips. His thrusts are becoming sloppier, signaling that his release is soon. He desperately grips my hips, exhausted grunts brushing past his plump lips.

“I’ve dreamt of doing this for so long, baby,” He admits, “You have no idea.”

“Jake,” I say his name because it’s the only thing I can remember.

“It takes everything in me not to touch you,” He adds while panting, “It’s torture being around you.” I moan in response. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

His confession weighs heavily on me, but I can’t collect any thoughts as my second climax is right on the edge, “Jake, I’m going to come,” My breath hitches, “Please.”

“Not yet,” He says and quickly pulls out of me. An exasperated groan exits me at the loss of contact.

“What?” I say through an irritated breath.

“I need to see it,” He clarifies, flipping me over onto my back, “I need to see you come on my cock.”

Watching intently and impatiently, he finally removes my underwear and bra, and my legs spread to urge him to reenter me. He discards the clothing, and rests his hands on either side of my head.

With my legs wrapped around his waist and my arms hooked around his neck, his cock pushes back inside of me and we both moan in relief. His thrusts are slow this time, his hips slightly rolling with each pass and pushing deeper inside of me.

“Faster, Jake,” I urge.

“No, baby,” He soothes, “Let me take my time, I’ve waited for so long.”

“Please, Jake,” I beg.

His hands come up to release my hold on his neck and he moves my arms to rest beside both sides of my head. Interlocking our fingers, he holds my hands and arms in my place. He looks down at me, scanning my features while maintaining his thorough pace. His hair falls to one side of his face, the tips of his strands tickling my cheek. He looks magnificent, causing my pussy to clench around him, earning a smirk from him.

My eyes hold his when I finally feel my second orgasm return, my legs tightening aroundhis waist. My hands clutch his as needy sighs escape my lungs. “I’m so close, Jake, please go faster,” I beg again, “Josh and Danny will be back any minute,” I add, hoping to persuade him.

“Who cares,” He smiles smugly, “Nothing is more important than this. How good I make you feel,” He thrusts hard, “How fucking wet you are,” Another thrust, “How sexy you look when you come.” A harder, deeper thrust.

His final push sends me over the edge, “Holy shit!” I gasp. My eyes close and my jaw opens, letting out loud cries.

“Eyes on me,” He begs through clenched teeth, “Let me see you.”

When I open my eyes, his gaze is already fixed on mine. My walls frantically flutter around him, squeezing his cock with each thrust. Then, I feel it. A strained groan gets caught in the back of Jake’s throat and his cock twitches inside of me. His eyes don’t leave mine, though, as we both ride out our orgasms.

His pupils are blown out, and his irises are just barely visible. I feel his hips stutter, spurts of his cum coating my walls. Just when I think he’s done, he resumes his deep thrusts, milking the rest of our orgasms out. I feel his cum gush around his shaft, leaking out of my entrance with each additional thrust.

The final waves of my orgasm cause me to spasm against him with sweet, quiet moans transitioning into tired sighs. His husky groans mix with deep breaths.

He releases my hands and leans back, causing my legs to unwrap themselves around him. His hands rest on my hips as he looks down, watching his cock slide into me, our fluids mixing and dripping out of me. “Fuck,” He whispers under his breath, “Just look at you. You’re such a mess, baby.”

A whimper holds in my throat when he pulls out, but just barely stops when his tip is still inside. When he pushes back in, the whimper leaves my throat, causing Jake to flash a smirk. He does this a few more times as his cock grows soft from his orgasm.

Finally, he pulls out of me, the loss of contact causing my walls to clench. He sits back on his heels, his eyes drifting down my entire body and watching as his cum leaks out of me. He leans down slightly, planting tender kisses on my bent knees.

“Let me clean you up,” He finally says, getting up from the couch. He pulls his boxers and pants up, disappearing to the nearest bathroom. When he returns, he has a wet paper towel, doused in warm water. He intently wipes up his cum from my entrance, trailing down to the couch where my ass rests.

“All done,” He says, getting back up and presumably discarding the used paper towel. When he returns, he grabs my hands and lifts me into a sitting position and sits across from me. Feeling awkward, I reach for my discarded shirt and pull it over my head.

He’s watching me like he’s waiting for me to say that I regret it. I don’t.

Sitting quietly, we both just stare at each other. “Jake-” I finally speak.

“Yeah?” His attention is already, and has always, been on me.

“I don’t think I want this to be a one time thing.” I admit, my gaze traveling down to my fidgeting hands.

“Hey,” He says softly, grabbing my attention, “Neither do I.” He reaches over and pulls me into his side, letting me rest my head on his shoulder, “I meant what I said. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Really?” I smile, looking up at him.

“Of course.” He kisses the top of my head. We fall silent for a moment.

“So,” I pause, “what now?” I ask.

Just as he’s about to answer, we hear the sound of keys jingling at the front door. We both look at each other, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. He scrambles to get off the couch and grabs his shirt as I rush to grab my underwear and pants, forcing them up my legs.

Jake crashes into the recliner, pulling his shirt over his head. Both of our hands fly to our hair as we try to smoothen out any kinks and knots.

We attempt to act nonchalant when Josh and Danny enter the living room, “You guys didn’t get anything done!” Josh says dramatically, looking around the undecorated room.

“Did you guys argue the entire time?” Danny asks, frowning, and disappearing into the kitchen.

“Yep, it's all his fault.” I say, my fingers coming up to my mouth to conceal a smile. Jake does the same as his eyes find mine.

“Well, we really need to get this stuff up, you guys,” Josh declares, “So, get up!” He orders when neither of us move from our seats.

Jake and I rush to stand up, trying to avoid each other while we walk to the kitchen to grab the decorations on the dining table. Danny is busy unloading the groceries into the fridge and doesn’t pay us any mind. We focus our attention on unpacking the decorations, our eyes occasionally glancing up at each other with guilty smirks pulling at our lips.

“Why is there a bra behind the couch?” Josh calls out to us.

Jake and I snap our heads up fully, looking at each other with agape jaws and wide eyes. Danny looks toward us, to the living room, and back to us. His eyes widen as well, and he begins to laugh. Fuck.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

This unfortunately is not my greatest work, so apologies if it’s lacking. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed!

Tags:

[fayeofthenightingale]

I've decided to contribute to the Miguel nation even though I was almost a year late

I present to you…. Brother's best friend! Miguel! A drabble…. (Might turn this into a full fic idk)

Cw: Brother's best friend trope, grammatical errors, fem reader, possibly OOC Miguel, this is more like a flashback really since it's focus is more on Miggy and reader's childhood, this is kinda long wth 😭

Bbf! Miguel who has been friends with your brother since middle school, would often play in your brother's room when they were younger. As typical boys do, they'd play video games. He doesn't mind when you want to join them. He finds it endearing whenever you try to put your stuffed animals on the Legos they built, claiming they're people or something like that.

Bbf! Miguel who defends little you whenever some mean kids try to bully you, is taller than the average kid, making him intimidating. When this happens, he stands behind the bullies, towering over them with a menacing glare and arms folded. All he has to do is say something like "scram" or "leave," and the kids your age run away. Then, when you're feeling sad or upset, he treats you to ice cream to cheer you up.

Bbf! Miguel who helps you pull pranks on your brother, sometimes he’d be surprised you were able to pull off a bit extreme pranks but he’d be happy to do it for shits and giggles.

Bbf! Miguel who helps patch up your wounds whenever you have a little accident in the midst of pulling a prank on your brother all while speaking to you in the gentlest of ways to calm you down. "can you get up? no? All alright I'll carry you then” Your eleven-year-old mind panics when he easily carries you.

Bbf! Miguel who defends you against your older brother, Leo, gets into an argument whenever he can, Leo’s older, and can handle himself, while you are 4 almost 5 years younger than them and therefore helps you whenever he can, it’s just not fair sometimes.

He stood by the side of Leo’s room, witnessing the fight between you and your brother, 13-year-old Leo yelling at you for breaking his model aeroplane. “I Told you not to come in here without my permission!” Leo huffed, “I’m sorry! I-I just want to look at it” You defended yourself but Leo wasn’t having it,” Well now look at it! It’s broken!” little you are almost on the brink of tears, that’s when he stepped in. “come on now, the wing is the only one that’s broken, I’m sure we can fix it,” he said, trying to cool down the argument, Your brother stormed out of his room to cool off leaving you with Miguel “Are you okay Chiquita?” he asked and you shook your head a small sniffle escaped you as you try to justify yourself “I didn’t mean it” little you murmured as you look up at him with teary eyes, he sighed as he took the broken plane and its wing “hey, it’s okay yeah? Leo just needs to cool off, with the help of a super glue I’m sure we can fix this” he reassured you with a little ruffle on your head and grabbed the super glue to fix the broken model plane with his best friend’s little sister.

Bbf! Miguel got his heart broken for the first time because the girl he’s been crushing didn’t like him back because he was “too nerdy” for her liking, Leo brought it up during dinner when your mom asked how your day went and you were saddened for him, who wouldn’t like Miguel? He’s kind, understanding, and funny, he may be too intimidating because of his more-than-average height but that’s his outside appearance! He’s really sweet on the inside… wait…. Why are you thinking like that about him? Nevermind that.

Bbf! Miguel showed up the next day at your house since he and Leo needed to finish a project that’s due tomorrow, eyes puffy and a bit dishevelled from crying, you felt bad despite your brother calling him out that he looks like shit. Miguel didn’t deserve this, so you, the ever loving little sister of his best friend decided to go buy something for him.

Bbf! Miguel who walked out of your house to head home since the project they’ve been working on is finished, “Miguel!” you called out to him with a small paper bag in hand, you catch up to him panting heavily, have you been running? You held out the small paper “Umm.... I’m sorry about what happened yesterday… Leo told me… I mean he told mom when she asked how our day went” you rumbled, you were too busy making sure the treat in your hand stayed warm that you haven’t thought about what to say to him! “… anyways theseareforyouIhopeyoufeelbetter'' you said rather too quickly and before he could say anything you ran away and inside your house too flustered to face him, he took a peek inside the bag and a small smile was painted on his lips, warm empanadas from his favourite store, oh how sweet of you…

Bbf! Miguel who's taken the rejection to heart, maybe much of a nerd after all and that needed to change, so day by day he changed himself, no longer wearing those thick-framed glasses instead he opted for contact lenses, the baggy shirt that has corny science jokes were now nowhere to be seen and he's even doing a little workout to build his tall lanky body, of course, this was never unnoticed to you, who wouldn't notice your brother's best friend slowly gaining muscle and lean body type? You're happy for him of course but a part of you hoped that he did it because he wanted to and not because he's pressured by society's views of him, you like the nerd him? he's cute!

Bbf! Miguel who's never seen you so down in the dumps before, usually your beams and silliness can rival the sun itself but now you're gloomier than the night sky. He asked your brother about it and he didn't expect the reason for your sudden gloominess.

“Ah, she's just upset because no one gave her a Valentine's gift” your brother nonchalantly said as he played on his computer, his series of curses from losing the game was blurred out and in his peripheral vision, he only saw you, without saying any word he left your brother's room and approached you. You can hear the low vibrato of his voice as he approaches you “Hey” he greeted and sat down beside you “You okay?” he asked with his usual gentleness and you looked at him “I don't know… do I look okay?” you mumbled sassily which took him aback but sighed “I… I don't even know why I'm upset, it's just a silly day, it's not even a holiday! it's just a stupid day to have an excuse to ask your crush out or chow down chocolates” you mumbled bitterly, really it's a childish thing to be upset about something small like this, but Miguel didn't think so, no, he’s been there and he knows how it feels, Miguel didn't say anything but pats your head gently, his way to console you.

Bbf! Miguel who had surprised you on a random Friday afternoon with a box of your favourite chocolate and a pink coloured rose “Here” he said as he handed you the gifts, your eyes widened in surprise but took them “What's with this?” you asked but he shrugged in response “For you” he didn't show but it was amusing to him (and kinda cute) to see the sparkle in your eyes shine although it was short-lived “you didn't have to do this you know?” you mumbled, as much as you appreciated his effort you didn't want him to do that out of pity, again your brother's best friend shrugged “It’s not out of pity, it's for you, pink roses for appreciation" and that got you thinking “appreciation? for what? what did I do?” you asked him genuinely curious as to why “just existing, we've known each other for years-” “but I'm not your best friend” you cut him off “who said you have to be my best friend for me to show you my appreciation?” he asked you and in turn you weren't able to say anything, too surprised to utter a single word. He called your name softly, “I appreciate you, not because you're Leo's sister, but my friend, one of the closest, as embarrassing as it sounds but I cannot deny the truth, you have a certain charm I'm drawn to, you make me smile easily, you understand me, and don't tell Leo about this but at least with you I'm slightly more comfortable” he said with a small smile.

Before you could say anything Leo called out Miguel's name and he left right after, a hand on your chest to ease the beating of your heart and butterflies on your stomach. And in that moment, you realized you had fallen for your brother's best friend.

----

Omg why is posting stuff online so anxiety inducing?! Anyways Likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! If you have feed backs I'm more than eager to hear them (just be kind please) 🩷

[pinkwright]

need u on my skin like closure, baby | shuri udaku.

ƸӜƷ

pairing — college!shuri x college!y/n

trope — exes 2 friends 2 lovers

inspo — anya mmiri by ckay ft. pinkpantheress

warnings — fingering (reader receiving), dom!shuri, humiliation kink, erm dumbification (listen..), possessive!shuri, protective!shuri, shuri is touchy, kissing, overstimulation, its long my bad, reader is easily embarrassed, tensionnn, shuris mean n condescending but so in love, reader is bratty for like two seconds, jealous!shuri, dacryphilia, dirty talk, degradation but like its like praise coded, praise, reader gets rlly subby (poor baby) but not crazily so like subspace, i think that's it but i honestly don't know.

a/n — i wrote this pretty quickly actually n was initially gonna post for valentines but bc i'm drowning in ideas rn it doesnt rlly matter so, i hope u enjoy it ! girl i won't lie writing this had me a bit breathy LMFAO so if there r any errors that's my bad but u know why. im a miniskirt kinda gal so this is what i imagine reader wearing to the party while this is what i imagine shuri in (4th)— u can obvi imagine what u want.

⟢˚ @mbakuetshurisprincess @inmyheadimobsessed @letitias-fav @barkbarkbo @saintwrld

ஜ

confusion, confusion, it's life, and illusion. you’re with me right now, next thing you're gone. but i need you on my skin closure, like closure, baby.

the music blasts through your ears, the steady vibrations stimulating you sufficiently, working well in keeping you from getting distracted from the current art piece you worked on. the world around you seemed muted as the tones of green, brown, and orange danced across your canvas, the oil paint was firm but still allowed room for error, encouraging it even – your favourite medium for that reason.

a slow succession of knocks sound under the thump of your music, the door to your studio opening and closing with two soft clicks, the person not making themselves known to you. though, a smile creeps on your lips – having recognised the knocking pattern, “by now you should know that creeping up on me after you’ve knocked is futile, right?” your hand reaching towards your stereo to lower the piercing volume.

you place your palette on the covered table to your side, the dirty paintbrush following suit as you stand to turn to face her, your arms lift into a stretch then fall to fix the unruly bun of the lace on your head as you finally set your gaze on her. she’s standing in the doorway, her hands buried in the pockets of her baggy black sweatpants, a matching oversized black hoodie sitting on her torso, the accents of dark purple shifting as she lifts her hands into surrender, and there’s mischief dancing in her eyes.  

“i will never understand how you do that when i quite literally have the stealth of a panther.”

she’s smiling at you as she speaks, her voice is playful and light as you begin to pack up your belongings, “i don’t know, your majesty. maybe, just maybe, the deadly black panther has met her match.” you’re giggling as you say it, unaware of the inner turmoil you’ve thrown shuri in to.

the air quietens down as you raise your eyes to look at her, your sweep of the room to make sure it’s presentable for your arrival tomorrow complete, and you seem to realise what has transpired, what you insinuated. shuri’s gazing at you with a deep but unreadable expression, one that has you averting your eyes over an awkward chuckle as you walk towards her.

“that, she has.” her voice is deep, and serious, as it slithers up your body, wafting with your intake of breath to settle in the depths of your lungs. her words carry a depth you’re familiar with, or at least, were familiar with, one that spoke of her devotion to you, her love and respect for you, her desires and promises to make you, her queen.

you clear your throat before moving around her tall frame to step out of the small, now tense, space. your heart flutters as she quickly reaches out to open the door for you, her cologne permeating your psyche as it washes over you – jasmine and warm musk on top of cedar and bourbon vanilla, all wrapped within the sensual flamboyancy of roses.

you walk to the elevator and step into the space, the music is soothing as you sigh out and drop your head side to side in a stretch, you had been sat unmoving for a long period of time, “i always tell you to take stretching breaks to ease the strain on your body.” shuri’s voice is teasing but you can hear the firmness floating through the crevices of it. your eyes reach to look up at her, your lips parting on a snarky remark, but the ding of a stop on another floor has you pausing; then there are two things happening simultaneously.

firstly, a group of college boys is stepping into the small space and, secondly, shuri’s reaching both her hands to rest firmly on the skin of either of your shoulders, slightly pressing against you to shift your body away from the rowdy boys, guiding you to face slightly away from them, as she steps forward to press against you, giving the one that was nearest to you a curt but taunting smile, as if she’s daring them to touch you.

the action is so swift and so instinctive that it’s over before you even get to blink twice, but it wakes up your aching body, provoking it into calling out for her. you feel its call in the warmth pulsing through you, the sweep of your stomach, and the racing of your heart. her head dips to where her soft curls skim the skin of your collarbone, her nose barely brushing against the arch of your neck, and your head is tilting slightly for her, your body reacts before your mind can process, clearly yearning for her closeness.

“what were you saying, s’thandwa?”

she breathes the words into your skin, her hands squeezing your shoulders before they’re slipping down your arms and coming to rest on the heated skin of your waist, pulling you into her so her chest presses against the length of your back; and you’re embarrassed. you can feel the rapid glances of the others beside you, though their conversation never ceases, and you know that shuri’s doing this on purpose. she knows that no matter how much you deny it, your body vibrates with the idea of her possessing you like this, owning you where there’s nothing to shield the clench of your thighs from prying eyes; she knows you bask in the humiliation of it.

you shake your head to clear your thoughts, “it’s fine, it wasn’t important.” you almost flinch when you hear how breathy your voice sounds, the heat rising to your face but moving to settle in the pit of your stomach. shuri’s chuckle is taunting as she breathes you in, her head dropping slightly and you can feel her lips curling as she skims a phantom kiss on your sweet skin, and you swear when your head clears, you’re going to kill shuri udaku.

the doors ring open to the ground floor and shuri guides your body out, no longer pressed against you as she takes to wrapping her arm around your shoulder and your head finally clears. “you are such a fucking ass, actually,” her boisterous laugh is cutting you off as she turns to look down at you, amusement dancing in her eyes.

“looking out for you is being an ass, my love?” she teases. your eyes roll as you throw her arm off of you, her laugh only intensifying as she brings her hands to clap obnoxiously. the muscles of your heart seize as you regard her, you love her so much, why’d she have to confuse you like this?

“shut the fuck up, i’ll see you tonight.” you try to look annoyed, but a series of giggles are escaping you as you walk away, your apartment only a block away. you’re adjusting the bag on your shoulder when shuri’s voice rings out in agreement, her laugh quelling as she watches you go, a sigh taking its place as the longing grips her once again.

⤠ 

you roll your lips to spread your lipgloss and reach to put the tube in the black bag you decided to carry tonight, rocking your hips to the beat of baby boy reverbarating through the walls of your apartment as you deem yourself ready. you spin your back to the mirror, your eyes sliding to gaze over your shoulder as you give yourself a once over, the length of your skirt was daring, provocative, just how you liked it.

the knocking at your door has you grabbing your bag and ruffling out your hair, allowing the bangs to frame your face cheekily because you know shuri likes it when you look a little bit of a mess for her, not that you wanted to look good for her or anything along those lines. the door swings open, your previous smile dropping as you lay your eyes on her, sweeping your gaze down her lithe frame as your glossy lips part, she needed you bad; shuri’s doing the same, her tongue coming out to lick her lips as her dark eyes burn into the skin of your legs, she had always been a leg girl.

your eyes snap up at the clearing of her throat, and she’s smirking at you before leaning into your space, her arms wrapping slowly around your waist, pressing you against her firmly as she brings her lips to your ear, “bast, you’re killing me, baby.”

the words end with a grunt as she slips one of her hands down your hips to play with the hem of your skirt, “this fucking skirt, you’re a little slut for attention, hm.” her voice is soft and cooing like she’s praising you, and her fingers grazing the skin of your thigh paired with the tenderness of her tone coaxes you into accepting the praise.

you let out a low whimper, the heat of your core bringing you to clench your thighs slightly, shuri chuckles condescendingly before pulling away, lifting your hand to her lips to graze your knuckles before she’s pulling you away, guiding you to her car. the ride is a short but electrified one, god what kind of exes slash friends were you?

the party is in full blast by the time you two arrive, music blasting through the house and flowing into both the back and front yards, you could feel the vibrations settle in the marrow of your bones as you make your way inside, still being guided by shuri. she moves through the crowd just like a panther; gracefully, instinctively, moving with the aura of the apex predator she was, she greets people as she enters the kitchen, using the grip on your hand to seat you on an empty barstool before she starts to prepare some drinks for you.

you’re joined by some of your friends, and soon you’re laughing, enjoying the party and the sweet drink shuri had prepared for you, before you feel like dancing. you hold one of your friend’s hands as you go to dance, letting go of the overbearing stress you carried, letting the music caress the heat of your skin. you feel her eyes watching you, feel them heavily sliding down the length of your moving body and it exhilarates you. you open your eyes and just as you meet her gaze, a body presses itself against you, much like she had earlier, and her gaze is darkening.

the intensity of it shocks you but lulls the bratty side of you forward, calling you to make her move, make her claim you again. the thought excites you enough to bring your hand to guide the strangers to rest on the material covering your ribs, your lips twitching in amusement when you see her eyes drop to sneer at the touch.

that’s it, come to me. the vixen in you is cunning, luring her lover to her with tactics she knows shuri will concur to, tactics she knows will break the regal patience of the queen.

but shuri simply raises a manicured brow, her lips lifting into a smirk as she sweeps her eyes over your frame and she’s leaning forward against the marble countertops before tilting her head at you. you know that look, and so does your body, seeing as it instinctively clenches with a fire so deep it licks at the jagged edges of your ribs, sinking into the space between your legs.

she barely lifts her hand, her fingers moving to call you to her and you’re moving without thinking, like a prey to its predator, and you’re soothed by a false sense of security when she allows you to place your hand in hers so she can gently pull you towards her and whisper directly into your ear, “i don’t know who made you think you run shit, s’thandwa, but i know you need me to fix that for you, right?”

the shiver that wrecks through your body is instant and you’re nodding before you can comprehend, your breath hitching when you feel her pull you through the crowd, you were in for it. the lock of the bathroom door barely clicks before one of shuri’s hands grabs both of your wrists to press against the wood while the other pushes your hips against the surface.

there’s a pause, “i need to hear you to tell me you want this baby, that you want me.” her voice is strained like she’s holding back.

“please, please, shuri, i need it, need you, always.”

the whine barely escapes you before she’s letting out a tortured groan and pressing against you, her hand sliding down your hip, roughly pushing the hem of your skirt up, and pressing over the front of your damp underwear. your hips stutter as she presses against your clit, your lips parting as you moan out, hearing her groan into the curve of your neck, her lips pressing heated kisses along the length of it, “barely touched you and you’re this wet for me, baby? my pretty pussy’s crying for me, isn’t she?”

her voice is pulling you into the state only she can pull you into, where your mind is only occupied with her, and it’s hard to think, to breathe, to exist beyond her. her fingers trace slow circles over your underwear, your hips swirling to match the movements, and she’s laughing at you. lifting her lips to slide over your cheekbone and press against your temple as she increases the pace of her fingers.

“my desperate fucking girl. you want to come in these pretty lace panties?”

your hips buck wildly as you gasp, your head spinning as you whimper out her name, over and over again, a series of pleads falling from your lips. the way she’s talking to you with that lilt in her voice like you were just a girl to be scolded, a girl to be humiliated until you learned, learned what being hers meant. she’s speaking words to you, wanting you to gaze into those eyes while she touches what’s hers.

you feel the wave cresting, your stomach clenching as you practically squeal out her name, your hips gyrating frantically in time with her hand, your hands are clenching, your arms still held above your head, wanting to grab something to ground you, wanting to touch her to ground you. she coos at you, murmuring about her, “pretty sweet thing coming so good for her.”

your heart rate doesn’t get the chance to slow as you feel her hand slip into your now-soaked, underwear, your hips bucking violently as she grazes her slender fingers across your sensitive clit, and your eyes are widening as you lift your gaze to find hers already on you, “had enough, angel? i don’t think you have.” her voice is taunting, her eyes holding a fire that burns your insides.

your mouth drops open, your gaze unable to move from hers as she slides her fingers to your entrance circling around the opening as she groans deep in her throat, “bast, you were made for me, my love, made to take me?” her finger slips in slightly as she curls her tongue around ‘take’ and you’re chasing her fingers, she’s being so mean.

you tense as she finally slips her finger into the warmth of your walls, a satisfying moan slips from your mouth as she begins to gently thrust in and out of you, her fingers dragging against you, just the way she knows you love. she’s smirking against your cheek as you unabashedly moan out repeatedly, thumb coming to circle your clit as you shut your eyes. the tears are gathering on your lashes as you’re whimpering out.

“there’s my pretty baby’s tears.” her voice is dark, menacingly dragging out the words. “couldn’t have my pretty pussy crying by herself tonight, hm.” the words render you dumb before her fingers glide firmly against that rough patch inside you and you’re clenching so hard that it drags her fingers deeper into you, your legs trembling, your body solely held up by shuri’s hold on your wrists. and you still long enough for her to mutter out a ‘that’s it, angel.’ before you’re exploding again.

the tears are clinging to your lashes as you see flashes of colour behind your eyelids, your breath coming out in pants as you stutter your hips to the soothing slow of shuri’s lithe fingers, she’s using the hand holding your wrist to lower your arms to rest around her shoulders, her arms then coming to the back of your thighs to gently lift you on to the sink.

you feel her lift your chin, her lips approaching yours before she pauses, “you’re mine, right. my precious love, hm?” her voice is raspy. you nod eagerly, tightening your arms around her neck, whining for that kiss. she smirks as she leans in, placing her lips against your own softly but with a little desperation, the slide of your lips is a back-and-forth pull of your love, a love song duet, a devotion of walking into what will be.

the panther’s sly hands skim up your still quivering thighs fiddling with the band of your underwear, pausing, before she’s ripping them off. the gasp you release into her mouth is sharp but as you go to pull away, she doesn’t let you, her mouth slipping against yours felt like an addiction. both her hands slip along your inner thigh making their way to your dripping cunt.

her lips separate from yours when the tips of her fingers graze your folds and you thrash so wildly, she has to reach a hand to your hip to still you, a grunt slipping passed her mouth at the action, you were so sensitive, it made her feral. her eyes lift to your shut ones as she glides her fingers over your clit, your head frantically shaking, “you don’t want more, my love?”

her voice wisps through the clouds in your mind, “c-cant…please” you force out pathetically on a whimper, her fingers circling your clenching entrance, “i know, baby, i know.” she’s speaking gently to you, lovingly, “but you’re mine, yes? mine to love, mine to make come as i please? isn’t that right, honey?” and you’re nodding frantically.

“then i want you to get off on my thigh like the desperate girl you are, sweetheart.”

her voice is the only thing you can fathom, and it has you craving for more, inviting her into you and it almost makes shuri preen – you’re so open to her, settling into her embrace as if you trusted her more than yourself, it makes her soaking pussy clench tight around nothing, in a way only you could make her. her thigh presses between your legs and your muscles tremble around the strong muscle, her hand slips around your throat, squeezing gently as she guides your eyes to hers, and she gazes at you so deeply, it makes you squirm.

shuri’s watching you struggle against her thigh, her lips lifting into a condescending smirk that forces you to shut your eyes and let out a lengthy, needy whine before she uses her free hand to grip your waist and harshly slide you against her.

“dumb baby needs me to do everything for her?”

the moans you’re sobbing out sharply slice through the air, and you feel filthy, crying out for her while she drags you against her thigh like a desperate slut. you’re hiccupping on your tears as she continues to coo at you, walking you to your demise and you can feel it, your heartbeat pulsing through your desperate clenching walls.

her head is nodding along with yours, your eyes unable to separate from hers, and she’s groaning along to your cries, asking if you want it enough if you’re desperate enough for her. she leans in to press a tender peck to your lips that you can’t reciprocate, “that’s it, my angel, give me that come.”

then your body is convulsing so violently, shuri has to press the length of her body against you to prevent you from slipping off of the sink she has you sat on, her head sinking to your neck to shower you in praises and remind you how good you were for her, how much she loves you, how pretty you are when you cry for her. your tears are hot on your cheeks as you soak her thigh, and you’re heaving as your eyelashes cling to one another, the mascara smeared along your waterline - you looked ruined.

shuri regards you with a tenderness that sends you spiralling, she reaches her hand to brush along your wet cheeks before following the trail with her warm lips, exhaling her love into your skin, reminding you how much her heart belonged to you too. her lips meet yours in a soft press and she sighs as she pulls you against her body to ground herself.

she could feel her heart clench with the force of her love for you, she was never going to let you go again.   

how could i forget you? when you build house for my mind? and you no go, go outside and you no go, go. i miss me and you. but all i have is memories of you. but that just wont do tonight.

ஜ

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Series Masterlist

Chapter 18

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; male on female violence; allusions to female on male violence; threats of physical abuse; threats of SA; blood and injury

A/N: If you see grammatical errors, no you don’t. Please. I’m too tired to proofread tonight. I’ll fix tomorrow. 🩵

“Slow movements. Don’t wanna spook it.” You could feel his hot breath against your ear, making it difficult to focus on the buck a few yards away. The crossbow was heavier than your gun but Daryl insisted you’d take to it just as easily. “Take a breath.” You inhaled, deeply and quietly, and exhaled just the same. “Squeeze the trigger. Take the shot.”

There was little kickback but you held the weapon steady so as not to alter the bolt’s trajectory, watching the blurry figure of the deer crumble. 

“Yes!” You exclaimed, lowering the crossbow and turning to beam at the archer. You just didn’t expect him to still be so close. Your nose bumped against his, but he didn’t pull away. 

“Good job.” He praised, his voice quiet, his eyes on your mouth. 

“You’re a great teacher.” Your head tilted of its own volition, breath mingling with his. You began to close the small space between you when something caught your eye. “Oh my god, Daryl. You’re bleeding!” You let the weapon fall in favor of pressing your palms against a hole in the bowman’s left shoulder. His breaths were coming quicker, face suddenly sweaty and pale. 

The world appeared to turn around you, and though neither of you had moved, you were bowed over him then, maintaining constant pressure. Weapons were firing around you, screams echoing from all sides. 

“What’s happening?”

“Run, Y/N.” Daryl rasped, pushing away your hands only for you to replace them over the wound. “Run.”

“I’m not leaving you!” You yelled. Your cheeks were damp but you couldn’t remember when you had started to cry. 

“Ya have to. Now, go!” He snapped. 

“No!” Something zipped past your head, so closely that it disturbed your hair. There was a dull thud of a bullet tearing into flesh behind you. “If we can get you up, we can make a break for it.” Looking around frantically, you realized with abject horror that none of the people fighting had faces. Just blurred, blank skin.  “What the hell?” You came to realize next, that Daryl had quieted and stilled below you. Uttering his name as you lowered your gaze, you were met with the milky yellow eyes of a walker. Daryl. 

His mouth opened suddenly, coming at you too fast for you to dodge. You did the only thing you could. 

You screamed. 

“Shut her up!”

Your eyes snapped open as you felt pressure leaving your throat, your body tumbling from somewhere to land on a cold floor in a crumpled heap. Coughing harshly, you blinked several times and looked around. An empty room, concrete floor and walls. No windows. The lighting was a pale red, making it nearly impossible to identify the man standing over you. 

Oh, right. 

Todd was trembling, likely with rage. You had managed a few solid punches and a deep, gouging bite to his hand before he’d been able to subdue you. You couldn’t help but wonder if Daryl would be proud. 

If he was even still alive. 

“Your little boy toy ruined the good thing we had going.” Jazz was pacing slowly in front of the door, the epitome of perfect calm. “Blood, sweat, and tears went into that club. A lot of sweat and even more blood.” He chuckled, strolling over to where you were levering yourself into a sitting position, crouching in front of you. You sneered at him when he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s gonna take some time to rebuild my club, and it’s gonna need to be your blood and sweat and tears this time.”

You filled your mouth with saliva, curling your lip before spitting into his eye. “You‘ve already taken enough from me.” Jazz smiled and pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket to dab at his eye. Your head jerked to the side, blood spraying from your mouth with the force of the back of his hand meeting your jaw. 

“That’s the thing about whores like you.” His tone was so calm that it made you nauseous, the feel of his fingertips on your chin guiding your head back toward him only intensifying the discomfort. “You always have more to give. And give, you will.”

“Now, Jazz. Is that any way to treat a guest?” An unfamiliar voice sounded from the doorway, distracting the former club owner enough for you to jerk your head free of his hold. “Come on away from her.”

You pressed yourself closer to the wall, wary of the new presence. Jazz reluctantly stood and stepped back to allow the man room to approach. Kneeling down to your level, he studied you in a way that made your teeth itch. He held out a hand, Todd stepping forward to place his own handkerchief onto the awaiting palm. 

“Word has it you’ve been spending time with the community holed up in that prison.” He stated, leaning to wipe away the blood on your lip and the bullet graze on your cheek with strokes that were too gentle. You offered him no answer, your chin quivering as you tipped it upward defiantly. “Not one for talking, I see.” He draped an arm over his knee and let the piece of fabric dangle between his fingertips. 

“She was promised a dental procedure. I’m sure we can get her to talk, tell us the weaknesses.” Jazz leered at you. 

“You’ll do no such thing.” The other man snapped, his eyes never leaving you. There was something about him. Something that made you fear him more than Todd, more than Jazz. 

“Who are you?” You asked, your voice quivering, your head pressing against the wall when he reached for you. A whimper was stifled as his hand began to stroke your hair, your jaw, your collarbone. 

“My name is Philip,” he grinned, the eyepatch over his right eye shifting slightly, “but most people call me the Governor.”

He was barely on his feet by the time he tumbled out of the tombs and onto the debris at the back of the prison. His pulse was throbbing in his shoulder, his shirt heavy and damp with blood from pulled stitches. He’d have to check them and change the bandage but it’d need to wait for him to catch his breath. His limbs were still uncoordinated, but the fog in his head was clearing. He’d managed to fight his way out, mostly out maneuvering the dead and only putting them down when he had no other option. He was too weak to take on them all, too out of it. 

If he was going to get to you, he had to be smart. 

Smart. He laughed wryly and struggled to a sitting position, using his good arm to keep himself upright. Nothing about what he was doing was smart. Smart would not be setting out alone while injured, much less at night. Daryl didn’t care about being smart, he cared about you. 

Where were you? What were they doing to you? Were you hurt?

He had to grit his teeth against the pain when he’d gathered enough energy to get to his feet. The groans and snarls echoing from inside were getting too close and he was moving too slowly to wait any longer. 

Climbing down the crumbled bricks and concrete was challenging but not impossible. He did pretty well, all things considered. The fence was open, gaping wide from whatever had blasted through before the group had settled. It was a way out for him, but a way in for the walkers. Another group he’d be forced to skirt around. He wished it was as simple as lathering up in guts and shuffling his way through. He inwardly groaned. Not an option with his wound. 

“Christ.” He whispered, dodging and ducking. By the time he made it through the fence and behind a tree, he was sweating. His injury throbbed, nearly doubling him over. Daryl leaned his good shoulder against the rough bark, letting it take most of his weight, and closed his eyes. 

“I have to go or he’ll kill you.” Your eyes were wet and shining, begging him to understand. He pleaded with you until he just couldn’t anymore, your tears spreading across his knuckles before you pressed your lips there instead. “Thank you, Daryl.” He couldn’t get his tongue to cooperate and settled on shaking his head, even as those same lips left his hand and met his cheek. “Goodbye.”

He couldn’t stop his voice once you pulled away, walking through the gates without looking back. 

Daryl forced his eyes open and pushed away from the tree. He’d walk until he couldn’t. He’d search the roads for tracks. If he was lucky, his disappearance would bring the others. They would know that to find him, they would need to find you. If they got to you first, great. Getting you back was all that mattered. Keeping you safe. 

If he became a casualty in achieving that goal, he was okay with that. 

Heels traipsed loudly against the concrete, the resounding click clack giving you the urge to cover your ears. If you ever wore a pair of heels again, it would be much too soon. 

Hushed voices spoke outside your door, the metal thick and hindering any hope of hearing the conversation. It wasn’t Jazz or Todd. Philip— the Governor —had ordered them away from you, slapping Jazz’s face when he disagreed. That had been a joy to witness. 

You suppressed the natural urge to flinch when the door swung open to present a long-legged blonde. Her clothing was similar to the skimpy outfits you had been made to wear, sparkling under the red light. Definitely one of Jazz’s girls. 

“My name’s Millie.” She said dismissively as the door closed behind her. It was clear she didn’t want to be there, looking for all the world like she had better things to do. “Boss said to bring you something to eat.” The tray in her hands was lifted slightly to draw your attention to it. Your eyes narrowed. You made no move to accept the offering. With a dramatic roll of her eyes, she placed the tray on the floor and used her foot to slide it toward you. “Don’t see why you get to eat the same thing he does anyway. What makes you so special?” Millie hissed. 

The plate was piled high with meat, mashed potatoes, green beans, and a little slice of some sort of cake on a separate plate. A bottle of water was on its side, unopened. Your expression didn’t change. “Tell Jazz I don’t want it.” Using the tips of your toes, you pushed it back. 

Millie scoffed. “Jazz didn’t send it. If it were up to him, you’d starve. Rightfully so for fucking some redneck trash after he burned down the one good thing we—”

“Watch it.” You warned, shifting forward as if you were about to get up. The blonde took two steps back. 

“The Governor sent the food. Eat or don’t. I don’t give a shit.” She spat, heading to the door with her fist raised to alert the guard. 

“You don’t have to stay here.” You returned to your previous position, pulling up your knees to wrap your arms around them. “I got out. You can too.”

“Are you stupid? You know what’s out there.” Millie replied, not turning around. You had never seen her before but you didn’t see much of anyone at the old club. You’d be let out on the floor only on occasion. Other girls had been sent in to tend to your wounds after a beating but you could never remember their faces, their voices distorted in your pain induced haze. 

“Yeah, I know what’s out there. There’s a lot of bad stuff. Terrifying, actually.” Resting your chin on your knees, you summoned images of Beth carrying Judith, Maggie smiling up at Glenn in the watchtower, Rick teasing the man when they changed shifts. You could see Carol smiling in that gentle way that just made everything feel alright. 

And then you saw Daryl. When he offered you berries, bowing his head so you wouldn’t be afraid. When he smirked at you the first time you fired the gun. When he watched over you from a distance while you practiced. You could remember the warmth of his arms when you clung to him after the run. The comforting smell of smoke and leather. 

You released a shaky breath and wiped away a stray tear, sniffling quietly. “Not everything out there is dark and scary. There’s good too. It makes all the terrible things worth it.” Blinking away more tears, your eyes flitted up to Millie, watching you with an expression that could only be described as yearning. 

“I’ll, uh, just have to take your word for it.” She finally whispered, tapping on the door. “You should really eat.” 

And then she was gone and you were alone again with only the memories you were holding onto for comfort. You’d forgotten so much of your life before the club. The fear of losing what you had found after was devastating. You had to make it out of there or die trying. You couldn’t fathom the possibility of being so lost inside your own mind again, so submissive to the twisted needs of any other person. 

Maybe you couldn’t find your way back to the prison. In fact, you had no idea which way to go even if you did escape, but fuck that. You’d take your chances. You’d give it your all to make it back to them. Because maybe you could. 

If Daryl was alive, you would give everything to see him again. 

By late afternoon, Daryl’s head was swimming. He had patched up his shoulder with steri strips. Not the best option for a bullet wound, but they would hold it closed and were easily replaceable should one tear loose. He had emptied the canteen but hadn’t come across any water to refill it just yet. His stomach rumbled with hunger, but that would need to wait. He could find a squirrel or a rabbit before searching out a place to crash for a while. Maybe he’d come across some of the berries you loved so much, could pack some away to give to you when he found you. 

He had made his way toward the road, careful to stay out of sight while watching for any sign of tire tracks or other indicators of activity that could lead him to the club. He shoved down the pessimism that screamed he’d never find you and pressed on. 

The others had to know he was gone by now. He could almost envision Carol’s furious expression upon finding the cell empty. And how could he even begin to blame her? He was a survivalist. He knew how to take care of himself, what to pack, what not to pack. This? This wasn’t him at all. He’d run away like a child sneaking out their window, sacrificing sufficient planning in fear he’d be busted before he could make it away from his mattress. He had been reckless, impulsive. 

For you. 

Fuck, he was in deep. 

He didn’t know how to navigate these emotions. He’d never allowed anyone that close. Somehow, he felt that there were no missed opportunities, that you were the first. It terrified him to depths of his soul to acknowledge that he would be completely content to let you be the last. The only. 

Daryl was likely headed down a path that would end in nothing good. That had been the story of his life. You probably didn’t feel the same way about him, and he couldn’t blame you. Especially given what men had been doing to you for so long. The fact that you had warmed up to him at all was in itself nothing short of a miracle. 

“Thank you, Daryl.”

“Goodbye.”

That wasn’t good enough for him. If you ever left, it would be on your terms and for your benefit. He’d be damned if he let anyone else take something from you. You finally had a home and friends and choices. 

He realized too late that he was falling, his knee meeting the forest floor with a muted thud. Breathing unsteadily, he lowered himself to both knees and tilted his head toward the sun. He only had a couple of hours until nightfall. At this rate, his body would give out if he didn’t rest and replenish fluids, get some calories, he’d never make it to you. 

Water became priority. He could do without food, but dehydration from recent blood loss and exertion would do him in long before hunger would. Staggering from tree to tree, he fought off the darkness at the edge of his vision. If he passed out where he was, becoming a walker buffet was the most likely outcome. 

It took at least another agonizing mile before he heard the sound of rushing water. A river. 

“Fucking finally.” He panted, begging his trembling legs to hold him up just a little longer. 

Water from natural sources wasn’t ideal in the best of circumstances, but given the state of the world, water just had to be water. He would not be building a fire, so he couldn’t boil it. He didn’t have a pot to use anyway. River water was at least flowing, making it the safer option versus stagnant lake water. 

He was careful when lowering to his knees, feeling weak and off balance. Losing consciousness only to tumble into a river would not lead to a happy ending for that day. 

“Damnit.” He groaned, pulling the bag from his shoulder, followed by his crossbow. The ache was constant but he felt instant relief with the added weight removed. He cupped his hands and leaned down to gulp greedily, drinking and drinking until he was certain he would vomit. Dropping forward to let his good arm hold his weight, he fought to catch his breath, willed his body to stop trembling. 

He was slow to dig out the canteen, filling it to the brim and placing it back inside his bag. Goddamn, he was tired. Beyond it. Still, he couldn’t rest yet. He needed food and somewhere of relative safety. 

Getting back to his feet was even more difficult than before, his legs threatening to give up the ghost. Fuck. Nearly crawling, he sorted through twigs and leaves and sticks until he happened upon one that appeared sturdy enough to hold his weight. Using the newfound walking stick, he struggled upright, panting from the small amount of effort. 

Maybe he’d forgo eating and just find a place to rest. He could always eat the next day. He wouldn’t starve.

Moving with a bit more ease thanks to the stick, he made his way back toward the road, filled with a futile hope of finding some sort of structure he could barricade. By the time he saw the old moving van in the ditch, he was ready to just lie down on the forest floor and hope for the best. 

The others could find him there, but he was too tired to care. He could no longer think clearly, struggling to open the back door when it should have been an act a toddler could complete. Climbing slowly into the back, he pulled the door closed behind him, groaning from the effort. The back was blessedly empty, giving him ample room. The locks were power operated so he’d have to take his chances with the living. The dead would shuffle right on by. He never had a chance to settle in or have some water, even plan his next move. 

He was unconscious before his head met the floor. 

[mapleapplepiee]

Part 4 of Pie and Prince AU

Thank you all so much for your patience. I had really wanted to have this out on Jack's birthday but life got in the way. Here's an extra long part 4 for you all.

Here is Part 3 if you want a refresher and heres the master post if you want to start from the beginning

The thieves, seeing that there are now witnesses, turn their backs and run towards the door to where Jack and Shitty are. Jack and Shitty both draw their swords and jump into action

They are both more skilled than the thieves in fighting, but they are out numbered, so it takes a few minutes for them to knock everyone out .

Except one, who hid and is sneaking up behind Jack, sword drawn.

Shitty barely has time to call out a warning to Jack to watch out before Bitty, who has been hiding behind the counter, leaps over the counter and wacks the side of the bandits head with cast iron muffin pan. The bandit crumbles to the ground, unconscious all before Jack could blink.

They all stare at each other for a second, surprise on everyones faces.

Shitty is beaming at Bitty "Damn, nice hit, we could use a guy like him for the guard"

(And in the moment Bitty now thinks they're both part of the royal guard, which is half true, but this will come back to bite them all in the butt.)

Bitty shakes out of his shock and begins to apologize to the unconscious man for hitting him that hard.

Jack "They were trying to rob you"

Bitty: "Oh, yeah"

Both of them remember that they actually kind of were not on the best of terms.

Bitty awkwardly thanks them both for their help and then wonders out loud how hes going to clean up the mess. Shitty without missing a beat volunteers both he and Jack to help load up the criminals into a cart and take them back to the palace.

Jack sighs but silently agrees to help.

As they are cleaning up the glass, tying up the still unconscious bandits and loading them up into a cart that Bitty let them borrow. Jack is replaying the entire thing in his brain.

Bittle is fast and has good aim, but Jack saw how scared he was of getting hit and after listening in on the conversation with Bitty and Shitty about how this isnt the first time that this (the robberies) has happened, Jack has made up his mind.

Jack is going to teach Bittle how to defend himself or die trying.

The first step is apologizing to Bittle for how he acted. This is going to be harder than what he thought.

End of Part 4

I'm not going to make anymore promises on when these are going to be published, as I dont want to brake anymore promises. I would love help with any ideas of what might happen, how to introduce the rest of SMH, etc. I read every tag and notes you all leave here and I wanted to thank you all for the support you all have shown me in writing this. its late so if there are any errors let me know and I'll fix it tomorrow

Have a wonderful rest of your night