#it was supposed to be silly and i ended up being soft

[ofthecaravel]

Heavy Crown

Summary: Prince Sam's premonition can only be quelled by the presence of his personal guard.

Tags: 18+ content!!!, flowery ass fancy ass medieval adjacent talking, suggestive conversations, minor minor angst

Words: 11k

A/N: Hear ye, hear ye, I do decree that none of you can look me in the eyes ever again after reading this.

~~~

It’s the window that did it, really. At least, that’s what the prince had said.

 It was a tall, grand window positioned opposite the bed that slept across the wide length of the bedroom, with heavy velvet curtains that were drawn in the evening and undone in the morning to reveal the shimmering glass. Despite the effort it would take and the noise it would invoke if those curtains were to move, Prince Samuel insisted his guard be removed from his post outside his chamber doors and instead spend his evenings beside the window.

“I have terrible dreams of someone coming through the window and slitting my throat in my sleep,” Samuel explained to his father the king, tearfully clinging to his arm. “I ask David replace Daniel’s post and Daniel stay with me. He’s the only one I trust to handle an intruder if my dreams turn out to be premonitions.” 

Of course the king had relented to his youngest child, third in line for the throne and yet the undisputed favorite. Riding the aftershock of a rambunctious rebellious phase that had Samuel turning the palace inside and out when he was a youth, his parents would do just about anything to keep him satisfied and away from the fine china. And so, Daniel of the royal guard ended up sitting stoic and alert in a plush chair in front of the window night after night while Samuel slept. 

That is, until the prince started to spend his time in bed talking instead of sleeping. 

Talking to Daniel.

It was all very innocent at first. That’s how Daniel remembers it. A week or so into this operation, Daniel jolted from a light doze by the soft bell of Samuel’s voice reaching out to him in the inky black of the room. If it were daytime, he would have passed his time quite quickly admiring the ornate intricacies of the vanity, the trim of the wall, the frame of the bed, the patterns of the quilt, the body beneath them…

“Daniel?”

“Your Majesty?” Daniel startled, getting to his feet in an instant and his hand going straight to the sword on his side. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s the matter, you can sit,” Samuel insisted, amusement lacing his voice and making Daniel feel suddenly silly for reacting the way that he did, despite it being his duty to do so. “It’s just that I can’t sleep.”

“Oh,” Daniel said simply, sitting gingerly back down on his seat. “Should I request something from the kitchen?”

“Is that what you would do for yourself?” Sam asked. 

His tone was odd. Daniel couldn’t quite place its intent. He felt self conscious under Samuel’s scrutiny, which was something the prince seemed to subject him to often. When he stood beside his throne at the edge of the room during court, he could always feel the heat of Samuel’s eyes on him in his peripheral vision while keeping his gaze on the doors and whatever danger may lay behind them. Daniel burned often during court. 

“I…suppose I would,” Daniel answered honestly. “When I was young and couldn’t sleep, my mother would bring me milk and a slice of bread and it would make me plenty drowsy.” 

There was a moment of silence as Samuel considered his words. Immediately, Daniel worried he had said too much about himself. It felt wrong to mention himself at all in the presence of royalty. Everyone’s lives were supposed to revolve around theirs. Lucky for Samuel, Daniel was more than happy to mold his life to make Samuel’s easier.

“Request this from the kitchen,” Samuel ordered in a bored tone, yawning as he said it. In doing so, he completely betrayed his facade of being far too awake for his own liking, but Daniel didn’t seem to notice as he got to his feet and whispered the demand to the guard outside the door. 

-

After this occasion, Prince Samuel spent every night provoking more and more conversation out of his otherwise silent guard. 

“Daniel?”

“You must be up early in the morning, Prince. You should rest.”

“You know I struggle to do so.”

“Your struggle would be helped by an attempt to rest.”

“I’ll have your head for that,” Samuel snapped, but they both knew it carried no weight. “I mean only to ask for your opinion. Or have you risen above matters such as morals?”

“What opinion do you require, Your Majesty?”

“You also know I hate when you call me that.”

“It is what you are to me,” Daniel stated plainly. 

In truth, it was more so what had been taught to him. He was reminded often how lucky he was to receive a position with such high honor, and to refer to who he protected as anything less prestigious than they were was entirely unacceptable. Even titles that were within his right to use sometimes felt too intimate for him to be using. Once, when Daniel had first been appointed to serve the youngest prince, he had called him “my prince” and proceeded to feel an uncomfortable warmth in his face for hours after it had left his lips. This was due in part to the stare Prince Samuel had subjected him to after he had said it. It was a stare he felt had never really quite left him. 

“Call me Samuel,” Samuel insisted. With a shift in the blue of the night, Daniel could tell he had flipped from his back to rest his pillow on his cheek to face Daniel. “If only in my quarters, call me that. If you resist, I will order you to.”

“What opinion do you require…Samuel,” Daniel forced out, feeling a strained heat in his body as he made himself speak the name. It felt so wrong. Salacious, somehow. He was not meant to know his protectee in this way. He was not meant to want to know his protectee in this way.

“At the ball we will host this coming weekend, do you recommend I wear my robes of blue or red?” Samuel asked, pleased by Daniel’s subordinance. “I’d like to wear my crown as well, if that changes your opinion in any way.”

“This may be a question best suited to your tailor,” Daniel replied, despite having an immediate answer in his head. “I don’t know much in ways of fabrics and drapery.”

“But what do you prefer? On me?”

“I prefer whatever you feel flatters you best.”

Daniel felt everything the prince wore flattered him best. He could walk the castle grounds wearing robes stitched together with curtains and rugs and Daniel would still think of it for hours.

“You are impossible, Daniel,” the prince whined, loudly flipping onto his back once more and disrupting the goose down pillows and mattress that cushioned him. “If you are not suited to answer such simple questions, I ask you fetch David from outside the door and-”

“The red,” Daniel cut him off quickly, bristling in his seat. “I recommend the red for you.”

There was a span of silence that seemed like forever to Daniel as he felt the smug satisfaction drifting from Samuel reach him from across the room.

“Thank you for your council, Daniel,” Samuel hummed. “Now I can rest.”

“Rest well…Samuel,” Daniel answered him. 

If it were easy to see, you could’ve seen both their smiles in the dark.

-

After a lifetime of being told of the untouchable power and dominion the house of Kiszka held over their kingdom, and even those that stretched far beyond the sea, it felt somehow dangerous to bend to the friendship that was forming between him and the youngest prince. When Samuel’s prodding questions turned into rambling, these mythical figures that Daniel had sworn his autonomy to were stripped of their mystique and glory until they were simply people. With Samuel’s words, a king and queen that bowed the heads of nations and dropped members of the court to their knees turned into overbearing parents whose strongest arsenal held only embarrassing nicknames instead of weapons. The steely eyed general of an army, a cunning strategist, and a charitable princess were reverted to mischievous children united against their youngest brother, armed only with peach pits for tossing and sticky hands made for pulling hair. Samuel spent his time on the outskirts of royal importance mapping their lives and their trajectory. And now, as Daniel slowly warmed up to him, he finally had someone to report his findings to.

“My father has spent another useless afternoon in talks with the high court from that prissy kingdom in the mountains about a bride for Joshua,” Samuel announced one evening as he smoothed his quilts and Daniel took his post in his chair. “I know he’s first in line, but we all know he’s just going to keep scaring those poor girls away as he always has.”

“Joshua would make a fine king,” Daniel responded. As weeks of chatter turned into months, he had reclined from a tense posture to a casual lean, even allowing his legs to cross comfortably. He did it then, massaging the back of his sore neck with a hand while Samuel fluffed his blankets with snaps of the wrist.

“Yes, but he doesn’t want to be a ‘fine king’,” Samuel sighed, taking advantage of the warm light the still lit candles cast through the room so he might make proper eye contact with his guard. “He’d rather spend all day drawing his maps and goofing off with his men. Honestly, I don’t even know what they all actually do. We haven’t needed to “strategize” for anything in years. We’re a peaceful people!”

Daniel hummed thoughtfully and nodded sagely, carefully keeping his mouth shut. Daniel knew well what plans of action that the royal guard appointed to the eldest son often carried out, but he decided it was not his place to relay that to his little prince. 

“I will share a sentiment of mine if you swear not to repeat it,” Samuel proclaimed, finally settling his legs under the silks and fine Egyptian cotton while keeping his back to the carved headboard.

“There is nothing I would not swear to you, Your Highness,” Daniel answered solemnly.

“There are times when I feel this whole system with its relation to my family and our kingdom is just so…”

The prince trailed off, tilting his head to the ceiling and thinking. Daniel used this beat of quiet to admire him without shame or quickly darting eyes. The low, pensive slope of Samuel’s eyebrows over his foxlike eyes, down to the straight descent of his nose and the sculpt of his lips…all of it invited Daniel in. 

“The monarchy, I mean. Well, I can’t say I care for it much most days.”

Daniel blinked in shock, jolting out of his haze and twisting at the hip to face the prince head on. 

“But you are so favored,” Daniel responded, taken aback by Samuel’s words. “There are legions who would give their lives for the power you hold.”

��They can have it,” Samuel grumbled. “I know if my brothers and sister were here, they would agree with me. When Joshua is king, I pray he fulfills the rearrangement we all crave.”

“What is it you crave?”

Samuel fell silent and turned his gaze to Daniel, who received it with a slow intake of breath through his nose and a neutral expression as the prince’s handsome eyebrows tensed almost pleadingly before smoothing out. It was an exchange that lasted only a moment, but it struck a tightly strung chord in Daniel as Samuel let out a weary sigh.

“I wish my siblings and I could trade our roles,” Samuel admitted, shrugging loosely and smoothing his hair with a graceful hand. “Jacob would happily play king if Joshua gave him the title. He has so much respect from our people as it is, and I know they would feel secure under his rule. Joshua could keep his affairs inside the castle the way he prefers…or perhaps his duties could take him to neighboring kingdoms and he could gain their favor that way. He’s sweet with his words when he wants to be. His diplomacy could take us far.”

“I suppose that would leave you to switch duties with your sister the princess,” Daniel joked. He watched curiously as Samuel’s face flickered with what looked like the beginnings of a smile, but he quickly turned his face towards the shadowy corner of the room that slept to his left. 

“There is already not much difference between our positions,” Samuel carefully answered. “With my brothers in line before me and little chance of war ever knocking on our doors, what is left for me? Correspondence I do not understand, taxations I hate to enforce, audiences with counsels in languages I struggle to speak. Veronica would thrive with these responsibilities, I’m certain of it. If I could gift it to her, I would. With lace and bows.”

Daniel frowned sympathetically as the prince became lost in thought, drawing a knee up to his cheek and resting his head while Daniel watched over him and considered his perspective. 

To Daniel, Samuel’s life had always seemed like the ideal hand anyone could be dealt. He had never considered the unsavory clauses in the contract of his life, and he felt almost cruel for it. The princes and princess were ever opulent and commanding when he had been in their presence, but as Daniel observed the youngest prince, he couldn’t help but think that he looked small. Vulnerable. He didn’t know that was something a prince could be.

“If there was anything I could do to change things,” Daniel began, his voice low and measured as he carefully worked through his response. “I would do that for you. For all of you. Many long for the control you wish you could shed. Forgive me for finding it strange to hear these sentiments, but I swear to never repeat them. Rest easy knowing this.”

Samuel was quiet for a minute longer before turning his eyes back on Daniel. His face was rosy and smiling in the low light. The weight of his lashes cast shadows that trickled down his cheeks. 

“And may you rest easy knowing your kindness does not go unnoticed,” Samuel replied softly.

“I would be a fool to be unkind to you, Your Highness.”

“There is control you hold, Daniel, when you address me. Or have you forgotten?”

“My apologies. Samuel.”

Samuel grinned and began to scoot down under his blankets, happily bundling himself up as he beamed at Daniel across the room.

“Keep up with your kindness and someday I will let you call me Sam. Until then, you can call me your friend.”

Daniel startled while Samuel bid him a quiet goodnight and turned away from him, sinking into the mattress and sighing peacefully as Daniel’s face began to simmer with recognition. He strode around the room and extinguished the candles, pondering their conversation as he fell back into repose on his chair, rubbing his temples and closing his eyes against the needling slivers of moonlight that ventured through the curtains. 

To call the prince by a nickname felt overwhelming. Their friendship washed over him in cold waves, and he choked on its implications until the hours of the early morning. The thing that truly worried him was not the weight of their comradery. It was the fact that he wanted more.

-

“You amuse me, Daniel.”

“For what reason is it tonight?”

“Months now you’ve watched over me in my chambers and yet you still sit so far from me.”

“Is that not the purpose of my presence?”

Samuel grinned impishly at Daniel’s back as he kept it turned to allow Samuel to put on his nightclothes without audience. At first, Daniel had waited outside as he dressed, but now they had picked up a habit of Samuel having Daniel follow him directly from the parlor after dinner and making him face the wall patiently while they chatted. Which Daniel did with no qualms, of course, but that didn’t mean his neck and ears didn’t flush with anxious heat as he thought of the prince undressing within arms length of him. Even in nightclothes, Samuel was always covered head to toe, leaving much to the imagination. Daniel had begun to admit to himself that he imagined more than he found suitable for someone in his position, and it filled him with deep, dark guilt. 

“You are exceedingly tall, I do not worry about you getting to the window in record time if the occasion arose,” Samuel hummed as he buttoned his shirt. “Your legs would carry you quickly.”

“Where would you prefer me to keep my station, then?” Daniel asked, somewhat nervous.

“Sit in the chair beside my bed,” Samuel demanded coolly, flouncing over to his bed and taking a moment to run his fingers over the red velvet chair that sat near where his head would soon lay. Daniel met his eye with a look of level headed surprise, but Samuel only smiled innocently as he cracked his neck and crawled under the covers. Daniel hesitated, but started his stride to the spot beside the bed despite it. Samuel frowned and held up a hand well acquainted with attitude.

“Ah, my candles?” the prince requested sharply, rolling his wrist to gesture at them. Daniel froze once more, waiting until Samuel made a little “shoo” motion to do his round around the room to extinguish them, feeling that same panicked warmth beginning to twist his stomach into confused knots. This change of routine was odd, but wasn’t the entire situation? Perhaps there was nothing to be divined from Samuel’s sudden appeal. 

In the bed, Samuel watched Daniel as happily as he always did when he bowed to his every demand. His happiness was layered with a familiar, often caged stirring that he also felt when watching his loyal guard. He had decided a week in advance that it would not be left caged much longer. Samuel tried not to betray his excitement and contradictory apprehension as Daniel turned back to him and their eyes met.

“Oh, the day that I’ve had,” Samuel lamented as Daniel approached him and cautiously sat down, already feeling shaky from the proximity. “I’ve begun to think I’m unwell from all the worrying I’ve done.”

“You’ve looked well enough,” Daniel offered optimistically.

“I don’t feel well,” Samuel groaned, dramatically smacking the back of his hand against his forehead. “Tell me, Daniel, do I feel warm?”

With the small amount of moonlight peering in, Daniel was able to see the prince’s glittering, expectant eyes looking up at him as he removed his hand and seemingly waited for Daniel to replace it with his own. 

“I’m not permitted to touch any member of your family unless it were under emergency circumstances,” Daniel explained clearly. “But I can tell you that if I were to, I wouldn’t expect to feel any warmth that would warrant concern.” 

“Daniel,” Samuel whined, playing with the intonation of his name in a hushed, low voice that sent a refreshing chill through Daniel. “Tell me, who do you see in this room? It’s only me, isn’t it? And I have no reason to make a report of any kind when I’m the one requesting your aid. Now, would you please?”

Fighting to keep steady, Daniel placed a careful hand on the prince’s forehead. Samuel closed his eyes at the contact and smiled with such pride it bordered on lechery. 

“You feel very normal,” Daniel appraised, allowing himself the pleasure of letting his hand rest for a moment longer than he felt was appropriate. When his muscles twitched slightly and he was reminded of just what he was doing, he went to lift his arm. However, Samuel’s hand was up in a flash to cover his own and press his palm flat against Samuel’s skin.

“Keep it there for a moment longer, if you may,” Samuel whispered. “It is the first comfort I’ve felt all day.”

“What has kept you in such a state of anguish?” Daniel asked, desperate to distract himself from the drunken feeling that was seeping into him through Samuel’s touch. His hand on Daniel’s was a reminder of his humanity, as well as the startling reality that this person Daniel tended to and thought of day in and day out was capable of not only being touched, but wanting to be touched.

“My father, as always,” Samuel griped, his eyes still closed but his dark brow crinkling in distaste. “He is hardly elderly and far from ill, and yet he’s begun to invest more and more of his time into arranging prospective brides and suitors for my siblings and I to hold an audience with. It is simply maddening, all this talk of travel and weddings.”

“You do not wish to be wed?” When Daniel asked it, he heard a glimmer of hope in his words that drove his guilt deeper through him. 

“To a stranger? A stranger that I will be strung to for my entire life? A stranger who I must treat well or potentially risk breaking an allyship with an entire foreign nation? I would never wish for that. I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone. I’ve always wished to marry for love.”

Samuel breathed out a pitiful, longing sigh and his thumb began to massage the back of Daniel’s hand, who stared at the sight as if frozen to where he sat. It was a misplaced attempt at self soothing by the prince, Daniel decided. He decided upon it mostly to avoid further cluttering of his thoughts. And cluttered they certainly were.

“Perhaps you will find love with your princess,” Daniel offered soothingly. “Many in your position do. Besides, it’s not as if you would be able to find love with anyone within the palace walls that would be permissible for you to marry.”

“I know this,” Samuel replied darkly, suddenly bitter and sharp as his thumb ceased motion. “Am I not allowed to wish?”

“Of course you are,” Daniel replied, relenting in an instant. “I am truly sorry for-”

“No apology is necessary,” the prince cut him off. He opened his eyes and turned his doe eyed stare on Daniel. “You are right, after all. Forgive me. My headache is making me cruel.”

“You’re never cruel,” Daniel murmured. “Not to me.”

The sentiment was well placed, but ultimately untrue. In the years he had served alongside the prince, Samuel had never shied from lighting the short fuse of his temper in his presence and basking in the praise Daniel would lay upon him in an attempt to quell his tantrums. As Daniel thought about it, he thought of how it had been a while since Samuel had dealt him an outburst. Before this instance, it had to have been months. What had been subduing him?

A minute passed in silence. Samuel’s grip on Daniel’s hand weakened and for a moment, Daniel wondered if he had begun to drift into sleep. He wondered how long he could stare at the dreaming face of the sleeping prince before it felt sinful. However, Samuel let out a huff and spoke once more.

“There is so much I don’t understand,” Samuel sighed, mournful and serious. “To talk of it for hours on end has sent me spiraling. I’m nearly afraid when I think of my wedding night.”

“You should hold no fear towards it, Your Highness. I think it’s a night to look forward to. What would make it so terrible?”

“Simply that I don’t quite know what I will do when the door is closed and I am alone with my new bride. I don’t know what I will do when we are supposed to finalize our wedded duties and…consummate the union.”

Daniel felt the air leave his chest and he dearly wanted to remove himself from the room entirely as the imagery of Sam’s words began to unfurl and spin in Daniel’s mind. What made it all the more excruciating was the physical rise in temperature he felt under his palm. It sizzled somewhere inside Samuel and reached out to him. Daniel sent up a prayer begging for the prince to stop looking up at him the way he was, but it fell on deaf ears.

“I trust your advisors will arrange an education for you before the time comes,” Daniel managed to say, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “You shouldn’t worry about that at all. Think of the ceremony and-”

“I don’t trust those stuffy clods to know what happens,” Samuel continued on, glossing over Daniel’s smooth attempt to change the subject. “It will all be so clinical and calculated as their lectures always are. I will leave more inept than when I began. I’m told consorting outside of conjugal relations occurs far more frequently in the kingdom than it ever does inside the castle. If I were to be the one to decide, I would want someone of a more common class to teach. To show me.”

Daniel stared at the plain cuff of his sleeve resting against Samuel’s hair as Samuel tilted his head towards him ever so slightly, his grip on Daniel’s hand applying a pressure so light that anyone who was not so attuned to it may not have even noticed. But Daniel noticed. He noticed nothing else. He breathed only through his nose as he attempted in vain to pull his usually very clever brain out of its state of bewilderment at Samuel’s peculiar behavior.

“Perhaps you can have it your way,” Daniel answered meekly. “You could have it arranged.”

“I am permitted most things if I play my hand right, but my parents would never allow this,” Sam asserted, a slight gravel dusting his voice. “I’m certain they fear the corruption of my thoughts. They definitely fear that I’ll try to exorcise my urges with those of lower status. It may be too late for that, unfortunately for them.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you speak of,” Daniel murmured, cursing in his mind when he heard his words waver as he spoke. Samuel seemed to catch this and smiled with a feline flirt at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m sure you do,” Samuel retorted in a voice just as quiet but twice as assured. “You know which tutor I would request if I were to have things my way.”

Daniel couldn’t find any feasible way to respond to the prince’s suggestive tone. He watched with rapt attention and wide eyes as Samuel turned over onto his stomach and manually moved Daniel’s hand to cup his cheek, closing his eyes as he nuzzled into his palm before looking up at him again with lowered lids and his eyebrows nestled together in undeniable desire. Daniel swallowed thickly as a fuzzy wash of adrenaline blurred inside him at the sight. He found himself unable to look away from the prince despite it being the one thing he knew he should be doing. It didn’t cross his mind once to simply remove his hand and stand away.

As a member of the royal guard, Daniel had been trained to be highly knowledgeable and reliable for countless scenarios that could besiege him or those he swore to defend. And yet, there had been no counsel in matters of temptation, something that seemed frivolous and borderline impossible coming from the royals themselves. Temptation stared up at him now, with parted lips and artfully crafted words that had drawn him in and trapped him before he had the wherewithal to realize how far he had fallen. Daniel thought of the evening when he had told the prince that there was nothing he would not swear to him. If he denied him now, he would be breaking that vow. If he denied him now, he would be denying himself as well. Hadn’t he spent enough time doing that?

“You ask me to advise you?” Daniel questioned when he gathered the strength to speak once more. Samuel smiled, the high apple of his cheek pressing against Daniel’s palm as he leaned into it once more.

“Yes,” Samuel answered, sounding near breathless. “Consider it an education. For this evening, you will act as I will when I have my princess. I will act as the latter.”

“I…don’t know how we would go about this,” Daniel stammered, feeling his throat begin to tighten anxiously as Samuel tilted his jaw and brushed his lips under Daniel’s thumb. “This is already-”

“I’m aware of the circumstances, Daniel,” Samuel interjected, his lips buzzing against Daniel’s skin as he spoke curtly. “I have been aware of them for a while. Too long. A moment longer would feel torturous, if I’m being perfectly honest. And now I have given you this circumstance to uphold your responsibility of fulfilling royal need while also fulfilling yourself, which is a grace that I presume you have not been often given. Now would you please stop acting as though either of our titles or birthright have any kind of meaning to each other anymore and join me where I lay?”

Struck speechless, Daniel wavered for only a moment before obliging the prince as he always did and getting to his feet. In doing so, he finally ripped himself from Samuel, whose expression darkened with upset and confusion before calming as he realized that all Daniel was doing was removing his sword from its scabbard and leaning it against the wall. He unbuckled the scabbard and tossed it on the chair, remaining silent and stone faced as he usually did. Despite this, inside Daniel’s mind, he felt such overwhelming excitement and improper giddiness that it warranted this mask of calm. Samuel grinned with pure satisfaction as he made a show of throwing off the covers and sitting up, patting a space on the bed next to him. Daniel lowered himself to the mattress and stared down at the eager prince, who leaned his thigh against Daniel’s and smiled smugly. 

“How wonderful to have you so close,” Samuel hummed quietly, turning his head to the side to appraise Daniel’s face through the cover of night. “You are always over my shoulder or at a distance, it seems.”

“It is not as though this is the first time you have seen me,” Daniel muttered, following Samuel’s cue to keep their voices hushed. 

“It feels like it,” Samuel whispered, lifting a hesitant hand to trace the proud slope of Daniel’s freckled nose. “You are exquisite. I shall send you to my portrait painting session next week in my stead.”

“I thought we were to be discussing your education.”

“I thought I made it clear enough that “discussion” would be kept at a minimum,” Samuel rasped, leaning forward slightly and staring unabashedly at Daniel’s lips. “Must you keep playing the fool? Do you enjoy causing your prince such distress?” 

“Certainly not,” Daniel answered sincerely. “But I admit I cannot help but feel a great amount of hesitation towards this…indulgence. There will be consequences.”

“There is not an earthly soul I would speak of this to,” Samuel insisted, shifting forward further so that he could place a firm hand on Daniel’s chest. “I haven’t even prayed for it. It has lived inside of me only in dreams. There is no one who would know but you and I, and it shall stay that way if you keep it from the ears of the guard.”

“The guard stands post outside your door as we speak,” Daniel reminded Samuel, leaning in as he spoke in urgency. “And he especially has sharp ears, which is why he holds the position he does.”

“The guard has been relinquished from his post for the evening,” Samuel whispered, his dark eyes sparkling wickedly with clandestine glee. “My father was informed this morning that my anxiety has been quelled enough by your presence to warrant this.”

Daniel was astonished by this admission. His eyes worked their way over Samuel’s face, which was painted with growing licentious pleasure as he continued further into the space between them. Daniel’s cheeks burned with a furious mix of shock and sudden, inexplicable appetite.

“You have made me your concubine,” Daniel seethed with searing heat of inextinguishable and undetermined source.

Samuel held his fiery stare for an agonizing amount of time before moving. Samuel’s hand on Daniel’s chest smoothed over his collarbone and shoulder before finding purchase behind his neck, where he gripped and pulled Daniel forward until their noses slid side by side and Sam’s lips fluttered against Daniel’s when they moved once more.

“I have made you my king,” Samuel hissed fiercely, his words rushing over each other as they spilled out. “I have languished over you, an act truly unbecoming of a prince, wouldn’t you say? I spend every day mourning your absence and every night gratified by your presence. Do not dare speak of my feelings towards you when you know so little of their depths, Daniel.” 

“Surely you can’t have ‘felt’ this way for long.”

“Since the day of my 18th birthday and you knelt and swore your life to my family. To me. You looked up from your knee and I have not known peace since. From that day on, you have stayed at my back like the sun on my skin and remained in my mind like a hymnal I cannot forget. How can you not know this? How have you not felt it?”

“How could I?”

Samuel let out a frustrated breath and removed his grip from Daniel’s neck, sitting back slightly and petulantly pushing his hands against Daniel’s chest in annoyance. A breath of bottled relief trembled from Daniel’s throat as he watched Samuel’s tantrum, unresponsive to the prince’s irritation as he attempted in vain to absorb all of his revelations. The warmth of Samuel’s face against his own was still at the forefront of his mind, where Daniel was certain it was never to stray. 

“How could you not feel it? Half of my days are spent trying to catch your eye. Did you think I only meant to distract you from your surveillance?” Samuel snapped. 

“It is what is accomplished in doing so. You have always been terribly distracting,” Daniel confessed. It felt wrong to say, but Samuel’s expression lifted ever so slightly and Daniel watched his pout rise to a delighted, slightly smug smile.

“As are you,” Samuel responded. His hands on Daniel’s chest relaxed and he suddenly seemed shy of their presence against the linen. He gingerly curled his fingers into his palm for only a moment before flattening them and smoothing the wrinkles in the fabric dotingly. 

“Why do you think I mean to shift my duties when my brother comes to power? There is no time for them when my head is filled with such dreams,” Samuel murmured wistfully. His brow was still knit as if in the throes of his grievance, but his voice was newly bashful. Daniel, slowly becoming emboldened by Samuel’s words as well as being blinded to the reality that lay outside the door, finally found the strength to reach for the prince. His hand rose and allowed a single finger to remove a stray wave of mahogany hair from Samuel’s cheek and tuck it behind his ear. Samuel froze at the contact and stared up at Daniel in wonder. 

“You keep saying you have these dreams that torment you so,” Daniel began, continuing to push back the prince’s hair with a gentle hand. “And yet you’ve told me nothing. Please…tell me.”

Samuel looked at him longingly for a second more before leaning into Daniel again, his arms going around his neck and Daniel’s own impulsively moving to Samuel’s waist. There was a flurry of reflex and motion as Daniel clumsily pushed himself back further onto the mattress and the prince ended up on his lap, clinging to Daniel wildly as his lips went to his ear. In order to speak, he resisted the urge to bite.

“It matters little if I’m asleep or sitting on the throne. In these dreams, we are far from dynasty and these ridiculous rules that keep me from you now,” Samuel purred, his longing tone sending nettles of adrenaline biting at Daniel’s insides. 

“We ride horses during our days and sit beside one another for meals, with no qualms of hierarchy to keep us apart. Then, at night, we make love like the Greeks.” 

Samuel’s sentence ended in a heavy, drawn out whisper that echoed in Daniel’s ear. Samuel drew back slightly to observe the way Daniel’s eyes fluttered shut and his lips pressed to allow a shaky swallow pass through his throat. Daniel’s long, wide hands held the length of the prince’s hips, and Samuel enjoyed the flicker of unintentional pressure that pulsed through Daniel’s fingers.

Daniel’s face was tense with emotion and thought but entirely unreadable. Samuel’s body became alight with nerves as he worried himself into a stupor that he had done what he was so scared of doing, which was driving his beloved guard away from him and all of his heavy, silly feelings. He knew he had come on strong, but he hadn’t been able to conceive of a way where he could tell Daniel what he thought and not tell him absolutely everything.

“I have known you all my life, Samuel, and yet I am realizing there is so little I know about you,” Daniel finally said. There was a dreamy fascination to his deep voice that made Samuel’s nerves flutter again, but in a different sort of way. Daniel’s head tilted and one black eyebrow arched as he regarded Samuel, and Samuel felt his hips tightening involuntarily as he fought not to adjust himself on Daniel’s lap.

“Even after all the time we’ve spent in these chambers when you were meant to be resting and I was meant to be alert, it seems there is much about you I’ve never known. You enjoy little deceptions is what I have realized just now, hearing you speak this way to me.”

Samuel’s eyebrows raised listening to Daniel. Part of it was the haughty royal blood running through his veins beginning to boil at the audacity of someone daring to call him out, but another part of it that was well acquainted with this royal attitude was secretly thrilled that he was being seen by Daniel. 

“If your sexual education has been so lackluster it warrants guidance with hands and not quills to parchment, you would not know of the Greeks and their habits,” Daniel pointed out with the beginnings of a smile. “Certainly not enough to fantasize about it day and night. It makes me wonder about what other little lies have brought me to you in this way.”

With all his years of repression and dissatisfaction, Samuel found his mouth hanging open as he panted with anticipation, his needy hands coming up to clutch Daniel’s slightly stubbled jaw and tilt it to align with his own. Samuel needed more than anything to kiss him, but Daniel spoke again before he could strike.

“May I ask one thing?” Daniel requested with a voice so gravelly and soft it could not be heard even mere inches away from where they clung to each other. 

If either of them had been paying attention to anything besides the feeling of the other’s erratic heartbeats joining where their chests rested only centimeters apart, they may have realized this was the first occasion where Daniel had requested something of Samuel. A subtle reclamation of power that would aid him in hours to come.

“You may,” Samuel permitted.

“I took post in your room because of a dream so intense that you spoke of it to the king and insisted that I was your only reprieve. Were there really any ever nightmares of assassins? Or when you spoke of intensity, were you speaking of these dreams you’ve just told me of?”

Samuel leaned back to gaze at him fully, anchoring himself with his hands still on Daniel’s face as Daniel’s hazel eyes kept post on Samuel’s mouth, awaiting an answer in whatever form it came.

“No nightmares,” Samuel breathed, feeling rare shame as he admitted it. “I only find nightmares when I think of my life as it is planned out for me, the same way I find dreams when I think of life as I have planned it for myself. When speaking falsely of nightmares, I secretly spoke these dreams to life. At least, I hope I did. Do you suppose I did?”

“Perhaps,” Daniel answered mysteriously. “But we’re not in that realm of reality right now, are we? I recall your ‘lesson’ for this evening was that I was to play the prince and you were to play my princess. Or do you not want that anymore?”

Samuel’s last string of restraint holding him back snapped and he used his grip on Daniel’s jaw to pull their lips together and melt into the desperate, fiery kiss he had dreamed of since the day they had met. Samuel’s lower back reacted innately and arched lightly at the contact, and Daniel’s fingers dug into his clothed skin as they moved together in awkward, blissful harmony. 

While they kissed, Samuel’s mind was following the plots of a hundred, preplanned daydreams that all ended in similar fates of him tangled in bedsheets. Daniel’s mind, on the other hand, was entirely blank. His mind couldn’t begin to paint pictures when his focus was kept solely on the shivering, heavy breathing royal that bruised his lips and pulled at the thick hair nearest his scalp.

“Call me that again,” Samuel begged breathlessly when they had no choice but to break for a breath of fresh air. “Call me what I am in your arms.”

“I will do whatever you ask of me,” Daniel sighed, one hand smoothing down Samuel’s thigh and holding the back of it. “My princess.”

Samuel, betraying the lasting legacy of his intimidating, affluent ancestry, burst into flushed giggles and buried his face in the crook of Daniel’s neck. Daniel let out an airy little laugh of his own and nuzzled his nose into the silken hair by Samuel’s ear.

“My funny little princess,” Daniel hummed. “Spoiled, funny little princess who loves to deceive. I’m left unconvinced you’re prepared for the ways of the Greeks, so I’ll count that as another deceit.”

“No fair,” Samuel lamented, his voice muffled by Daniel’s linen tunic. “Don’t you think we should try nonetheless?”

“As your advisor, I must recommend we begin on a much smaller scale,” Daniel whispered, planting a kiss against Samuel’s hair and squeezing his waist. “We’ll start with having you lay down. Simple enough.”

“I do not want ‘simple’,” Samuel whined further, swinging his leg off of Daniel’s lap and theatrically dropping sideways to land with his head on the pillow. “But I suppose I will be willing to postpone such extremities of the body if it is what you suggest.”

“You are too gracious,” Daniel teased lightly. He took the time to slip off his shoes and then turned to carefully crawl over the prince, still feeling an immense sense of wrongness at making contact with the expensive quilts and sheets. He felt that all too familiar sliver of panic and unease being so close to the prince. However, the returning awareness of the precariousness of the evening quickly faded as Daniel’s face came to hover over Samuel’s, who stared up at him with naivety and his bottom lip tucked gently between his teeth. A sight like this was enough to remind Daniel that he would risk losing his head if it meant getting to see Samuel like this for even a single second more.

“You have me laying now,” Samuel whispered, his cool hands rising to hold Daniel’s jaw once more. “What would be the next course of action?”

“I suppose I…” Daniel trailed off nervously, his eyes fluttering as he looked down the graceful throat of the prince and followed it down to the pearl buttons of his nightshirt. “I would undress you.”

“Proceed then,” Samuel grinned giddily. “We are lucky indeed I have no petticoats and corsets for you to strip me of.”

“You will certainly struggle more than I on your wedding night,” Daniel murmured as he hesitantly began to undo the buttons of Samuel’s shirt. His breath came in sharp shivers as the thoughts of Samuel with another person came in stride with the unveiling of the prince’s smooth skin under his hands. 

“I will struggle because it will not be you I’m with,” Samuel replied with a frown, looking down at Daniel sitting back on his lap to finish undoing the last of the buttons and pushing the thin fabric off of his shoulders and tossing it onto the floor. Samuel took in a shaky breath when Daniel’s fingers hovered along his waistband, but he watched with curiosity as Daniel’s face flickered with conflicted emotion before removing his hands and bowing his head to press a kiss to the bony crest of Samuel’s collarbones, who received the touch with a smothered sound of surprise. Daniel continued kissing along his collarbones and chest, taking a pause in his journey to flatten his tongue over the prince’s nipples, looking up to gauge his reaction and seeing only the underside of Samuel’s jaw as he tossed his head back against the pillow and whimpered. 

“You are exceedingly sensitive,” Daniel noted calmly, beginning a slow descent past Samuel’s ribcage and down his toned stomach. “Is it forbidden to touch yourself before you’re wed?”

“It’s a sin!” Samuel exclaimed, propping himself up on his elbows to face Daniel properly, who looked amused by his sudden outburst. “It is no conjugal matter. You mean to say you do?”

“Who is there to see it happen?”

“God!”

“If He was so insistent on punishing me for a sin as egregious as you make it seem, He would not have blessed me with such ecstasy as you,” Daniel whispered, keeping his eyes on the flushed prince as he kissed just under his belly button. Samuel let out an unbelieving huff of air, allowing one hand to weave itself in the raven dark curls of Daniel’s hair as he shook his head.

“I have laid with a devil,” Samuel muttered, a little breathless as Daniel’s sharp, freckled nose dragged along his skin. Daniel chuckled softly and the hot breath on Samuel’s skin drew another involuntary noise from Samuel, causing him to cringe slightly with embarrassment.

“There is no part of this exchange that is free from what others may define as ‘sin’, fair prince,” Daniel remarked. “But ‘sin’ is only what we make of it. I fear it is often confused with pleasure, which is, in truth, the farthest thing from what I find sinful. But if you so desire, we can pray after all is said and done.”   

“I will decide then,” Samuel insisted, trying hard not to pant as Daniel’s chin pressed against his waistband. “As for now…”

“Ah, yes, your lesson,” Daniel smiled, sitting up once more. “Now, when the time comes, matters of anatomy will be quite different, I hope you know.”

“You think yourself funny,” Samuel groaned, rolling his eyes. “I know quite well.”

“A skilled teacher always checks,” Daniel joked, his fingers now ghosting over the raised lap of the prince. “A pity, truly, that you will not be met with the beauty I know lies under my hand now.” 

Samuel flushed and watched with the heartrate of a hummingbird in flight as Daniel looped his thumbs and began to slowly tug down Samuel’s pants. Before his straining member could meet the cold night air, Samuel found himself reaching out and grasping Daniel’s wrists, who looked at him with a startled expression and rosy cheeks. 

“Do you not think the princess would attend to her prince first?” Samuel asked hurriedly, trying not to sound desperate and finding himself unsuccessful as Daniel’s eyebrow arched curiously. Daniel blinked once before smiling slowly and looking down at where Samuel held him by the arm.

“I suppose it would matter whether the princess felt the obligation,” Daniel started, flicking his forest eyes back up to Samuel’s before finishing his thought. “Or if she felt the want. There is a world of difference between the two sentiments.”

“She would want to,” Samuel answered, releasing his grip on Daniel and leaning in slightly to deliver a look of insistence. “This, I swear. The prince would be crazed to think otherwise.”

“I always feel crazed in your presence, it cannot be helped,” Daniel breathed. He sealed the distance between them with another fervent kiss before pulling back and getting off of the bed, standing tall as a cliff’s face in comparison to the seated prince, who stared up in wonder as Daniel began to remove his shirt. 

“Well, I could have helped with that,” Samuel complained with a pout. Daniel laughed and fully pulled his top off, revealing his broad shoulders and a dark scattering of hair across his toned chest. Samuel’s pout quickly fell at the sight, his dark eyes widening ever so slightly as another one of his dreams came to fruition before his very eyes. Daniel shrank slightly under his gaze as he usually did, but after Samuel reached out mindlessly to brush his fingers against the muscles of his stomach, Daniel found some confidence stored deep inside. 

“If you had helped, you would have dawdled,” Daniel accused, tossing his hair off his shoulder with a flex of his neck as he began to unbutton his simple black pants. “And I trust my princess would want her spoils sooner rather than later, would she not?”

Samuel only nodded in response, feeling incapable of answering with words that would keep him anywhere close to his princely status. Daniel smiled at him fondly as he allowed his pants to fall, leaving him in only his undershorts, which kept his now distracting erection barely covered as it left its outline along the thin, white fabric. Spoiled as ever, Samuel had a hand on it the moment it was freed. He gave one, slow, curious stroke of his hand, allowing soft skin to slide along his palm and wrenching a fluttering groan from the back of Daniel’s throat at the sensation and sight. Daniel inhaled sharply as Samuel’s jaw hung open, staring unabashedly at the length. 

“I will admit I now understand your urgings to proceed with caution,” Samuel stammered. “I will no doubt require an…adjustment period.”

“I will see to it personally,” Daniel purred, taking hold of Samuel’s chin and raising his eyebrows at him encouragingly. “But we mustn’t worry about that tonight. There is much to be done if we are to beat the sunrise.”

Daniel prepared himself to return to the bed, but before he had the chance to move, Samuel dipped his head to purse his lips against the flushed head of Daniel’s cock, leaving a chaste kiss and wrenching a strained groan from Daniel’s throat. The hand on Samuel’s chin swam swiftly into his hair, holding him still so that Daniel was pulled forward into the hot velvet of Samuel’s mouth. Emitting a slight gag, Samuel looked up with watery eyes as he panted around Daniel’s length, finally dragging his tongue along the underside of it and feeling butterflies of affirmation as Daniel’s head fell backwards with a sigh. 

After a few minutes of cautious soothing with his lips and tongue, Samuel leaned back, wiping a small stream of spit off his chin with the heel of his palm.

“Is this alright?” Samuel asked with a slight crack in his voice.

“If it’s not enjoyable for you, you can use your hand,” Daniel instructed through shallow breaths. “Or we can turn attention to you, if you think-”

Samuel answered him by returning his mouth to Daniel’s cock, smiling when he breathed in and allowed further passage into his throat. Daniel resisted the urge to toss his head and stare up at the gracious stars to thank them for bringing him here. Instead, he kept his eyes on the prince and his eager if adorably clumsy pace, enjoying the slow bob of his head as he suckled gently.

“Have you practiced this often in those dreams of yours, Samuel?” Daniel rasped, feeling disappointingly close to finishing. He wanted to stretch this perfect blue night as long as he possibly could before it felt entirely greedy. With his mouth still firmly attached, Samuel gave a slow nod, his head pushing forwards and back with the motion of it and causing Daniel’s eyes to roll into his head reflexively. He thought of Samuel sleeping mere feet from him for months on end dreaming of occasions such as this and reveled privately at the thrill it gave him. Daniel felt almost powerful, and found himself thrusting into the prince’s mouth, who responded with whimpering gags and tears beginning to glimmer in his pale waterline. Had it been only an hour ago, Daniel would have dropped to his knees in a moment at the sight of Samuel in tears. But now, he found it shockingly erotic. 

“You’ve practiced well,” Daniel breathed, nearly unable to speak as all of his senses became lost in the warmth of Samuel’s mouth. “You betray your “innocence” again with your knowledge.”

The prince’s gaze met Daniel’s as he slowly pulled off of him and Daniel registered an amused flicker in the amber of Samuel’s eyes. To Daniel’s surprise, Samuel had no snappy retort to deal in retaliation. Samuel simply kept his eyes firmly on Daniel as he steadied his breathing through flushed, swollen lips and nuzzled his cheek against Daniel’s cock.

“My apologies,” Samuel finally rasped with a creeping smile. “If you were anyone else, you would understand the lengths that someone would go to get you close.”

“How close would you like to be?” Daniel teased, heart racing so fast he feared it would burst before he got to unwrap his regal present entirely. 

“Closer,” whispered the prince, turning inwards to deliver one last kiss to Daniel’s erection before rising to his feet and pressing their bare chests together. “Much closer. Deeper.”

“I told you to wait for that,” Daniel grinned against Samuel’s lips, which were brushing against his as the prince’s hands grasped his exposed waist and smoothed up and over his ribs. Under Samuel’s graceful fingers, Daniel’s skin was as soft and hot as the first rays of sunlight on Samuel’s pillow in the mornings. The prince swallowed thickly at the sensation, losing himself for a moment at the thought of greeting Daniel in his undressed state between sun warmed sheets.

“I don’t want to wait,” Samuel grumbled for the millionth time as he spoke into Daniel’s mouth. 

It was clear he was beyond sullen that he wouldn’t be getting the Grecian love he had so hoped for, and while Daniel always found Samuel’s persistence and lamenting overwhelmingly endearing, there was a flicker of irritation inside him at having to repeat himself so frequently. There was so much of him that was still terrified to speak sharply to the prince, but then he became assured in the remembrance that this evening was free of consequence for him. Daniel’s hand snaked around the small of Samuel’s back and drew Sam even closer at his request, keeping Daniel’s member trapped between them in a self made chamber of warmth and reactive muscles. 

“When you stand as I do, you will have just as little tolerance for any incessant needling from your princess,” Daniel murmured in a firm hush as he watched Samuel’s eyes widen from his words and the new presence pressed against his stomach. “You will respect my authority on this matter, do you understand me? You will wait and you will air no more grievances about it.”

“I understand,” Samuel answered hurriedly, his voice as weak as Daniel could ever imagine but his tone was enthusiastic in a way that spilled over into the shaking urgency of his hands as they dug into Daniel’s flesh and pulled him into a steamy kiss. Samuel followed an instinct and opened his mouth against Daniel’s to dip his tongue in, whimpering softly when he felt Daniel smile. Enveloped in warmth, Samuel needed more.

“Daniel,” Samuel whined as Daniel’s mouth traveled across his cheek and along his jaw. “Lay with me. Test my patience no more.”

Instead of answering with a sharp tongued quip like he wanted to, Daniel bowed to his whim and placed a firm hand on Samuel’s chest to gently push him backwards onto the plush mattress. He, too, could wait no longer. With eyes closed and tongues shyly lapping at each other, they managed to maneuver themselves under the blankets and Samuel went as limp as a rag doll to assist Daniel with sliding his pajama pants off. With them both entirely exposed, Daniel lowered himself further down onto Samuel’s body and grinned wickedly against Samuel’s lips when the prince sighed into his mouth at the relief of their skin touching so solidly. Without even meaning to, Daniel’s hips reacted and gently ground into Samuel’s own narrow hips, jolting Daniel with a silken electricity that reminded him that he had neglected to get a good look at the prince’s own erection.

“Look at you, princess mine,” Daniel rumbled with a smile, straightening to sit with his knees pressing against the backs of Samuel’s thighs and admire the sight before him. “Divine, are you not? There’s no breath left in my chest.”

Samuel simply stared up at him as he panted for air, his eyes alight with a greedy gleam and his thick hair already frazzled and clinging to his neck and cheeks in sweaty rivulets. He looked desperate and, for the first time, wholly unroyal. With Daniel’s hand between them, they made eye contact and Daniel was struck by Samuel’s needy humanity. Daniel curled his wrist over Samuel’s slim cock a few times as he glided his fist from shaft to tip, which wrenched out a chesty groan from behind Samuel’s clenched teeth. But knowing what he knew about Samuel, he abandoned that venture quickly in favor of another proper demonstration. Samuel answered this with a frustrated outcry, grabbing at Daniel’s hand to attempt to replace it from where he’d removed it, but Daniel pulled away. He was to be Samuel’s teacher, after all. There was no time to waste.

“As I said prior, there will be a difference in anatomy,” Daniel explained breathlessly, skimming his hands up and down Samuel’s slim thighs. “I will attempt to remedy this to the best of my ability to aid in my teaching.”

“Please,” Samuel weakly responded. “Hurry. You torture me.”

“You are theatrical,” Daniel teased, guiding Samuel’s legs so his thighs pressed together and were drawn halfway up to his chest. “This will be far from torturous.”

Samuel propped himself up on his elbows and scrutinized the odd position Daniel was holding him in with his dark eyebrows drawn together and his flushed lip in a pout. 

“Most unusual,” Samuel commented snidely. “And how would you say this-”

Before Samuel could continue his chiding comment, Daniel rose slightly and pressed the tip of his dick between Samuel’s thighs, clamping them together impossibly tighter around his length as he slid it along the supple furnace of the prince’s skin. In doing so, he found that when buried to the hilt between the prince’s thighs, he was sliding alongside Samuel’s own flushed cock. They both sighed moans of appreciation at the touch and Daniel flexed his hips backward to retrieve himself from Sam, pulling out entirely only to spit in his palm, soothe the saliva over his cock, and then return it to the valley he’d created for himself and their aching lengths.

“God,” Samuel whimpered through a shivering groan. “You are His mercy.”

“Is it too much?” Daniel worried as he struggled to halt the quickening pace he was setting for himself. Samuel let out a harsh bray of a laugh and his head fell back.

“Not enough,” Samuel complained haughtily, tensing his thighs and making Daniel swallow a squeak at the ecstasy of tight muscle. “Are you always so gentle?”

“Would you prefer me to not be gentle?” Daniel asked with an arched brow, leaning further over Samuel so that the tips of their noses were touching. “Consider it a test of what you’ve learned thus far, and since you know so much already, your Majesty, I expect you to answer correctly. Tell me: what would the princess most prefer?”

“He’d prefer it faster,” Samuel whispered, wearing a mischievous smile and daring to reach out his rosy tongue and lick across Daniel’s bottom lip. “Much faster.”

“He?” Daniel questioned with amusement, his tensed hips aching for movement but feeling unwilling to give the palace brat what he wanted too quickly.

“He,” Samuel confirmed, his own brow arching in a mockery of Daniel’s. “There will be no princess but I. I’m going to steal you away before they even get the chance to try and find me one. You have my word on that.”

“Steal me away to ride horses and sit side by side?” Daniel echoed with a cocky grin of his own, stealing Samuel’s words from when he’d been sat in his lap. 

“Yes,” Samuel giggled in affirmation. “Not only that. We can watch the sun set over the hills. I could even sleep in your arms. Perhaps we’ll do all of those things for a very long time.”

Daniel’s stomach tensed in a different way then, twisting with longing so strong that he felt his heart reaching for Samuel’s own as their chests hovered over the other. They stared at each other for a moment that seemed to reach so long that it sent them out of time and space; into their own pocket of the world where seconds passed so slowly that they had nothing to do but study the face of the man they were beginning to love.

“I would like that,” Daniel replied softly. “Very much.”

“Wonderful,” Sam smiled, hands coming to rest on Daniel’s jaw. “Don’t forget to make love to me first. Or have you forgotten?”

“How could I?” Daniel purred, drawing his hips back and then forward so he could slide up against Samuel’s cock nice and slow. “When you feel this good? Never.”

The prince replied with a broken moan and cried out when Daniel began to thrust enthusiastically, fucking his thighs and member subsequently as Daniel’s ragged breaths moistened his lips and sent his head spinning. Samuel reached as best he could from his position and his state of mind to pull the covers up higher over Daniel’s waist and back, adding lustrous fabric and humidity that dewed on their skin deliciously. The friction, the weight of Daniel all over him, the drip of sweat into his mouth and rolling along his chest, the untouchable high of getting what he wanted…

Samuel was drunk. 

Struck dumb.

And, in a moment’s time, cumming hard and hot on his stomach with his eyes rolled into his head and his nails digging into his guard’s shoulders. Daniel took note of it immediately, unable to look away from the mess the prince had made for them both to enjoy. He watched it trickle and glide against the flush of his own erection, providing a delicious new sensation as his thrusts grew erratic to signal the beginning of the end.

“Sam,” Daniel choked out, letting out a follow up gasp before coming to a shaky halt and spilling into the pool of cum that Samuel had already made. Samuel went entirely slack and sunk against the pillow and mattress, uncharacteristically calm and quiet as Daniel’s arms struggled to hold him up any longer and his breaths punched out in raspy huffs. 

Blindly, Samuel reached out to the side and pulled a richly embroidered handkerchief from the pocket of the pajama shirt he’d long abandoned in favor of his carnal lesson. Ever the prince, he weakly held it up for Daniel, who took it from him with a chuckle and laboriously wiped down Samuel’s stomach. Samuel plucked it from his fingers and dramatically tossed it to the side, into the dark of the room that seemed to rematerialize around Daniel for the first time in what felt like ages. With his head clear and his dick softening, he remembered where he was done. What he’d just done. 

And then, before he began to spiral in the expanse of reality crashing down on him, Daniel felt a tender hand reaching for the soft hair at his temple and fingers sliding against his scalp soothingly. He looked back down at the prince and was overwhelmed by his beauty; Samuel with his half lidded eyes and ruddy cheeks seemed to be somehow glowing as Daniel drank in the sight of him. His prince. Samuel’s dreamy smile lingered as he stared into Daniel’s dark eyes, expression slowly growing somber and contemplative as he continued to trace loving rows through the waves at Daniel’s right temple.

“Daniel,” Samuel breathed, his devotion as evident as if his name were a prayer. “Get me out of here.”

Daniel inhaled steadily, the heavy blanket of protectiveness he harbored towards his little prince bearing down on him then like the hand of justice choosing him as its weapon. At first he said nothing, instead leaning down and pressing an impassioned kiss against Samuel’s accepting lips. He let the kiss stretch on, welcoming the quiet warmth of Samuel’s tongue in his mouth and humming at the comfort. Then they parted and Daniel spoke, his vow relayed in a low and serious tone.

“I swear,” Daniel promised. “Soon these will be all our nights. This, I swear.” 

After a few minutes of convincing, Daniel agreed to settle into the bed and hold the prince until he fell asleep. Daniel kept him flush against his chest and waited what seemed to be only a moment or two until Samuel was breathing steadily, his closed eyes darting around in a dream. Daniel couldn’t resist kissing his sleeping face with featherlight touch and tracing the bridge of his nose as Samuel had done to him earlier in the night. Silently vowing again that someday soon, Samuel would wake up in one of his dreams, where Daniel would be waiting with open arms and a racing heart. Daniel would honor the promise he’d made to his prince time and time again and deliver exactly what Samuel demanded of him. 

No matter the consequences.

~~~

[lovvecherrymotion]

anon is busy crying about how a year later from esc23 JO are recording their new album in the same studio that they recorded Carpe Diem that changed their lives so much 😭 they are probably feeling so vulnerable and so emotional and cuddle each other nonstop, and maybe the matching mustache is so they'd laugh and be more silly... (and film 70s porn later)

ily anon i'm also super soft about esc joker out and them recording in the same place (i mean, i literally ranted to @me-sploh-rada-imas about it and the fandom ended up with a wonderful fic by them!)

tbh what always gets to me is jan and nace. the way their relationship changed. the others were already pretty close with jan and obviously esc changed a lot of things for all of them as a band. but when i think about jance i just-

they're kissing with their silly moustaches and laughing about it but their hearts are so full of love. and they're filming the 70s porn later 💜 for us, anon

[bittersweetresilience]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @ninadove 🎉💕

i wrote you a silly fluffy something featuring sentitwins and félix's relationship with horses. there is NO angst... unfathomable. such is the power of friendship.

silky brightsky lion's mane, my beloved.

concept from anarchist gang and made with this picrew though i added the color dye because i think in a world without parental rule, félix would want his horse to live up to her name.

[hurlingdown]

        # BEASTFEAST ! — RYŌMEN SUKUNA.

synopsis. in another life, they only knew you as his guard dog. in this one, he's yours to own. or, alternatively: sukuna misses his mate so much that it begins to physically affect his vessel's body. they set off on a little mission in search of you, only to find themselves walking riiight into your waiting jaws. wc. 4.2k

tags. dom beast! reader, bottom! sukuna. reader has a cock. oviposition (eggs), size difference, large cock, i'm not joking around that thing is fucking ginormous, belly bulge, monsterfucking, cum inflation, breeding kink, mpreg, knotting, biting, rough anal sex, warning: sukuna's huge tits, appropriate amount of clothes-ripping, multiple orgasms, creampie, sukuna's hole leaks slick, soft & needy sukuna.

a/n. inspired by this ask. thank you for the wonderful thirst <3

Sukuna was a predator. He did not fear, did not run from measly little things like monsters, because hardly anything could be more terrifying than he was. 

But for the first time in his life, he felt like he was prey. 

Hulking, sharp teeth bared, and with four piercing slit-like eyes, you rose to your full height, a low growl sounding at the back of your throat. Primal hunger radiated from your entire being as you stalked closer and closer, horns lowered in a position ready to strike, your tail whipping the jagged ends of the cave, sending little sparks alive. 

“S-Sukuna, I think we should leave...” Yuuji stammered, starting to back out, but his cheek split open at once and a mouth appeared, snarling out a command to stay. 

“Let me take over,” Sukuna muttered. “I will handle this, brat.” 

Yuuji looked hesitant about giving up control on his body. Still, there were little options to pick and choose from at the moment, and the beast, you, was approaching them with haste. Each heavy step you took announced your presence, causing the ground to quake, crushed rock particles raining down like fine powder. 

Your eyes narrowed in onto the human at the mouth of the cave, no larger than one-fifth of your size, nor taller. Something coursed through you, sharp and warm and instantaneous, like static electricity. 

Familiarity. 

You came to a halt in front of him as tribal tattoos materialised on his skin, stretching across the expanse of his handsome face and dipping into his clothed chest. Two dark bands wrapped themselves around each of his wrists, and you watched intensely as he raised one (not six)—slowly, as to not threaten you, fist unfurling into a gentle hand to press against the side of your muzzle. 

Dark red eyes stared up at you with a bored expression. 

“Silly dog,” Sukuna cooed, fond. 

All of this was familiar territory, and you wanted to sink your teeth into his neck. He was looking at you like he knew what you wanted, too. 

“Sukuna,” you growled, nuzzling into his hand, and he shuddered. 

Closing his eyes, he curled a palm around one of your horns, bringing you down to press his forehead against yours, wanting to be close. You obliged easily, feeling his warm breath against yours, his touch surrounding you. The thrumming of his very much human heart against your lesser human one. You supposed it was a kind of feeling that no other living being could fathom. It wasn’t love, gods, no. It was something much more than that. 

It was something that only the two of you shared. 

“I made you wait,” Sukuna breathed, stroking the side of your face, and you snorted out an agreement. 

He had made you wait for centuries. Centuries of spending night and day in a cold wet cave, alone. You used to spend weeks lying awake at a time, waiting, hoping he would come back, sharp instincts perking up at every slight noise coming from outside the cave, only for it to be a bird or a stupid human traveller. You had hoped so desperately before that hope died with your will to live, and if not for your curse of immortality, you would have ended it all. You hadn’t even bothered to make a proper nest, for all these years. It didn’t matter if your mate wasn’t there to appreciate it. 

He had left you empty of meaning. 

“... I don’t suppose you will want me to apologise for that.” 

You stayed quiet. You weren’t looking for an apology. But that didn’t mean you weren’t angry with him. 

��Words?” he said patiently, looking at you. “Tell me how you feel.” 

“Nest,” you told him, and he watched helplessly as you shrugged his grip off and stalked past him, out of the cave and into the bright sunlight, for the first time in ages. 

You gathered nesting materials as swiftly as you could, taking whatever you could find in the forest—dried-up twigs, leaves, bark strips, bird feathers, all the sort. They didn’t have the softest texture, but they would do for now. 

You returned to a sweet, heady scent seeping out from inside the cave, each whiff sending delicious quivers down your spine. It was the kind of aphrodisiac that omegas in the wild would release if they wanted to attract an alpha, but these things did not matter to you much. Mate, your mind supplied. Breed. You shook it off as your body not being attuned to the unbearable warmth of the outside world. It was getting all your instincts mixed up. 

Inside the cave, Sukuna was sitting on your poorly-made nest like it was a grand throne, thighs spread and arms hung out, exposing his most vulnerable parts—his neck, heart and belly—to you in such a casual manner that it set fuel to the burgeoning fire you had been trying to ignore in your abdomen.

He gave you a lazy look as you noticed, a smirk beginning to stretch across his face. 

“You are back.” 

You felt your fangs itch. 

“I was going to rip these off,” Sukuna continued when you made no reply, pinching his clothes with a look of near disgust. “But I figured you would want to do it yourself…?” 

You growled. You had been suppressing the urge to rip off all his clothes since the moment he emerged in front of you in those markings that you had recognised as yours, and somehow, he knew it. 

“Sukuna,” you said. There was nothing else to say. You could feel yourself trembling with desire. Even he wouldn’t be able to take it, not in this weak form, no. “I need… to fix the nest.” The words came out flimsy and weak. An excuse.

“Take me,” he rasped out, as though reading your mind. He gestured to his stomach. “Forget the nest. I want you inside me. Right here.” 

He watched you, a hint of desperation behind his stern gaze. You looked away. 

“I am angry at you,” you confessed, the real reason for why you were so hesitant. It came out in a growl, and Sukuna shivered, baring his neck with a low whine. 

“I can tell,” he murmured, breathless. “Take it out on me.” 

It was tempting, really, having your mate spread out in front of you in your territory, willing and pliant, with only a thin, negligible barrier between you and what was yours. No, what used to be yours. You glared at his unblemished neck, now empty of a mating bite. It didn’t feel right, and the growing heat within you was telling you to either bite or break something. 

“No.” 

Sukuna cocked an eyebrow. “No?” 

Trying your best to ignore him, you lumbered over, starting to rearrange the nest into something more presentable. As you got closer, the sweet scent intensified, like a field of blooming red roses, each one making you dizzy with desire. Mate, your instincts were telling you. Make him round and heavy with our offspring. Keep him here forever. Who knows where he’ll walk off to the next time we lose sight of him. 

You could feel your cock sliding out from its sheath, steadily hardening as you pretended not to know where the smell was coming from. 

Sukuna eyed you coyly as you moved closer to stuff a few feathers behind him, arching his back subtly as he settled into a more comfortable position, one that exposed the wet patch between his legs. He pulled down the mouth of his shirt to show his right pectoral, the thick black lines enticing you to trace them with your tongue. 

Your cock swung heavily with every slight movement, and you could feel his hungry stare on it. 

He opened his mouth. You stopped and stared back at him, daring him to speak. He sneered. “Your dick clearly disagrees—” 

Sukuna yelped as you ripped his shirt open with your claws in one smooth movement, fully exposing his plump chest. 

“Beautiful,” you growled in appreciation, flinging the shredded shirt away, and he panted out a victorious laugh, eagerly pushing out his tits for you to examine. 

“Fucking finally.” He moaned unabashedly as you groped his pecs, careful not to graze him with your claws, but just as rough nonetheless—just the way he liked it. “Knew you would give in, haah.” 

“Sukuna,” you warned, baring your teeth, but he only arched his neck in response, trying to get you to bite already. 

“Put it in,” he whined. “Want your prick in me.” 

You ripped his pants off next. 

Your gaze raked down his body—this new, unfamiliar body of his that you should despise, because it was so human, so unlike him—but instead of feeling revulsion, you could only taste hunger. Saliva rapidly gathered in your mouth, threatening to spill out from the gaps of your sharp teeth. 

If he belonged to you, then every form and body that he chooses to possess would belong to you, too. And naturally, this one did. 

“Here,” Sukuna panted, reaching a hand between his legs to scissor his hole open for you. Viscous, syrupy slick dripped out, dousing your nest with his sweet smell, and all of this only served to drive you crazy with want. “Fuck me, ruin me, come on—” 

The universe unravelled before you the moment you grabbed him by the hips and seated him on your cock in one violent thrust, and you groaned out loud and guttural, heavens and the earth be damned. You could have never forgotten how it felt, not since then, and never now, a sweltering, almost electrical connection burning through your bodies and sealing them together as one, like you were made to fit inside him, like he was made to be yours. 

Sukuna was letting out a string of broken whimpers, face contorted in absolute bliss and pleasure as his rim stretched impossibly wide around your thick girth, his stomach bulging out to allow such a large intrusion. You yanked him further down the shaft of your cock, and he cried out, body convulsing as came—cock messily spurting on his chest. 

“Shit,” he cursed, trembling as you began to move again. “F-forgot how big this thing is.” 

You snarled. Guess you would just have to imprint your dick inside him to make sure he would never forget again. 

You manoeuvred your grip to the back of his knees, supporting him in a secure hold, spreading his thighs wider so you could slide in deeper with his back pressed against your chest. You wanted to feel every inch of him, wanted him to sheath you, wanted to carve a space inside him that only you could ever breach. Sukuna howled out a profanity, throwing his head back to rest on your shoulder as pleasure overwhelmed him in waves. 

He reached back to grab at your shoulders, horns, anything, struggling to push himself into a better position as you started to slowly thrust into him. Vulnerable was the first word that came to you. The second one was fragile, but that wasn’t the word for it, either. He was so little now—you could fit one hand completely around his waist, and you should be more gentle with him, really, but you knew he could take more. 

“Look,” you said, peeking over his shoulder. Sukuna looked up at you, teary and confused, but before you could clarify, you reached a clawed hand to press against the obscene bulge on his navel, and his eyes rolled back with a loud, shuddering cry as he jerked in your arms, pressure immediately increasing tenfold. 

“F-fuck,” he sobbed. You could feel the slick gushing out from around you and dripping down your thighs as he stared down for the first time, throat dry and unbreathing. “It’s too fuckin’ big.” 

You applied more pressure, just to be cruel, watching as he choked on a moan, thighs quivering uncontrollably. He stared back up at you, as though searching for a reason for that, and couldn’t resist looking down again, at the huge swell over his stomach and abdomen—the print of your cock marking him as yours. He slowly pressed his hands over your larger ones, whimpering as he felt just how deeply you were buried inside him. 

“It is not that big,” you sneered. “You are just small now.”

Sukuna scowled at your taunting words, shivering as you gently stroked his stomach. “Brat. That does not- ah- does not mean I cannot take you.” 

You bared your teeth, trying for something similar to a smile. “I know.” 

You knew that more than anyone. He was the strongest creature you had ever known, and would ever know. The only one you would ever bow down to, the only one you would serve and recognise as king.

You lapped up his tears, and Sukuna leaned heavily into your touch, like he had been starving for it. 

He was starting to roll his hips impatiently, forcing the head of your cock to rub against his walls, lustful whimpers slipping out as he watched you move inside him. “I guess it has been a long time,” he heaved, trying to catch his breath as he worked himself up and down your shaft the best he could. “I am gonna—cum. Again. Hold me.” 

It wasn’t an order as much as it was a plea.

You lifted his thigh high up to your chest, your other arm wrapping protectively around his waist as you violently slammed up into his tight hole, stuffing him full as he screamed. Strips of white painted his chest as he came all over himself, and you hooked your jaw over his shoulder to dutifully lick them up. 

It took him less than a minute to recover, hips jerking in your grip and whimpering pitifully to get your attention.  

“Fuck me,” he sobbed, way too sensitive as you started to move him up and down your cock again, canines grazing his neck. “Fuck me harder.” 

You knew Sukuna wasn’t letting you do this only because he wanted you to let you take out your anger on him. He needed it himself, craved it, even—the violence, the overstimulation, the release. Centuries of not having you beside him. Centuries of being sealed up in a dark, empty space without the comfort of your warmth, the solace in your touch. He needed it now, more than ever, and you needed it too.  

Ignoring his protests, you pulled him off your cock, setting him gently onto the nest on his hands and knees. Yanking his hips up, you forcefully pushed your shaft into him again, shoving him down by the neck when he tried to see what you were doing. He only moaned at the rough treatment, arching his back for you. 

“Let me,” you told him, gently. “Let me take care of you.” 

Sukuna panted, his two left eyes watching you with a strange reverence that only revealed itself when the two of you were alone and being intimate. It wasn’t exactly a promise to behave, but it was enough for you to start again. 

Your tail curled around his thigh possessively, guiding it to spread wider as you rammed your hips against his repeatedly with heavy thrusts, the wet slaps deafeningly loud as they echoed through the cave. Sukuna had stopped trying to fuck himself on your cock, instead laying there and allowing you to position him as you wished, moaning lewdly every time the tapered tip of your cock forced itself against his sweet spot. He was squeezing deliciously around you with every thrust, his insides squelching as slick coated the entirety of your shaft, easing the stretch and glide. 

“Gorgeous,” you growled, entranced by the way his hole greedily swallowed up your length, and he whined brokenly at the praise, trembling hands reaching back to spread himself open for you. You groaned out at the sight, driving yourself deep in before pulling out until only the tip stayed inside, and slamming back in again to drink in his pleasured cries. Somewhere in the middle of that he had cum again, spilling heavily into the nest as his knees gave out, legs shaking with overstimulation. 

“So fuckin’ good,” Sukuna whimpered, no longer himself in the haze of his third orgasm—face smushed against the nest as he drooled. “Missed this—missed you so much, ah—” 

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer, the edges of your vision blurring as you snapped your teeth together, focused on getting him off as much as possible first. Something strange and heavy was churning deep within you, being slowly dragged out from your depths and solidifying at the base of your cock—a feeling you hadn’t felt for a long time, you almost forgot what it meant. 

You didn’t even know if it was possible to impregnate him in this form. 

“Fill me up,” he sobbed out, cockdrunk already. The stutter of your hips had given it away—it didn’t matter if it had been centuries—his body could recognise it coming from a mile, like he was conditioned to be bred by you. “Want your eggs.” 

You let out a hungry, animalistic whine at his words, claws digging into his hips and thighs as you towered over him in a proper mounting position, pounding harder and making guttural sounds of pleasure and want as you blindly chased your release. His eyes squeezed shut as he moaned wantonly, exposing his throat in a clear sign of submission, showing you that he wanted this, wanted you to stuff him full until he was bulging with your offspring. 

“S-Sukuna,” you managed, wanting to bite, wanting to mark him, cock slamming directly into his sweet spot with reckless abandon, as though wanting to mark his insides as yours too. You could feel a knot bloating at the base of your shaft, heavy and swollen with solid weight, an unbearable pressure pushing and growing insistently somewhere down there, slowly travelling towards the rim of your cockhead. It was too much, too good, and you wanted to push deeper, deeper, make him feel it all the way to his throat. 

“Knock me up already!” he wailed, pushing his ass back against you desperately as if that would speed things up. “P-Please. You know I want it. Been waiting for so long. I want it, please, please—” 

He was begging so much that it was driving your instincts into overdrive, sight blurring, breath coming out in rapid, hot pants—he had rarely, rarely ever acted like this even before the two of you were separated—tears rolling down his cheeks as he cried his heart out for you to permanently mark his body as your own, distraught and broken like the only thing that could fix him was you. 

It tore your soul apart to see your mate like this. 

You fought to concentrate, but an invisible force was prying your jaws open, trying to get you to bite, clamp down on his neck and shoulder, taste his blood and drink in it. 

“Bite,” you wheezed out with difficulty as your hips continued to pound into him of their own accord, and you tried your hardest to tell him that you were going to lose it any time. “Please—can—I?” 

“Yes, you fucking fool,” Sukuna choked on a sob as you brutally shoved your knot into him, stuffing him full until he felt like he was bursting. “Mark me up, show me that I belong to you—” 

And you did, jaws latching onto flesh and skin as your teeth punctured the juncture between his neck and shoulder, fangs sinking in deep, snarling, shaking, a burning heat exploding at your core as your vision whited out, emptying everything into him—ecstasy consuming your very existence. 

When you came to be, he was whimpering weakly.

You could feel the cum steadily trickling out of his hole and down the back of his thighs—you had come so much that even the thick knot couldn’t keep everything inside—but you didn’t think that was the reason. 

You could feel a heavy pressure present from your crotch to the gaping rim of your cockhead, pain and pleasuring splitting you apart, and you let out a wounded noise as you pushed the first egg into the body of your mate. 

“S-shit,” Sukuna croaked out, thighs trembling as the egg settled into him, straining at the sudden heavy weight in his stomach. “H-how many are there?” 

“There are two,” you hissed out, and his eyes widened. “Two more.” 

He let out a pained whine, eyes fluttering close as he waited for the next, and the next. “Brat,” he managed. “I might not be able to stay awake.” 

You pulled back the best you could, manhandling him gently so that you could rest him on his side, knot still lodged inside him. “It is okay,” you told him, softly. “I will take care of you.” 

Sukuna couldn’t remember, for the life of it, the last time that he had felt so heavy. 

He blinked his eyes open, and was greeted by the sight of his swollen stomach, now stuffed with three whole eggs, and at least a gallon of your cum. He sighed with contentment, wriggling to settle comfortably into the warmth of the nest, hands settling on his stomach. 

Yuuji was going to try and kill him, no doubt. Not that his vessel would ever come close to succeeding. He found himself grinning evilly at that. 

Sukuna was about to fall asleep again, before he noticed a lack of body heat behind him.

He was breathing in your scent as the entire cave was drenched in it that he hadn't realised immediately, but you were nowhere in sight. A hollow feeling swept over him in waves at the thought of being used and abandoned, and he bit back a whimper. Stupid, useless instincts. He hated how weak you made him.

“Brat,” he called, softly, too tired to sit up. “You are here?” 

You grunted. 

You had been sitting at the far edge of the nest for the past hour, gaze locked onto the entrance of the cave, guarding your now pregnant mate from any foolish intruders. That was… one of the two reasons. The other reason was to guard him from yourself. 

Sukuna called for you again, and you could not resist stealing a glance.

The sight before you was making you light-headed with desire that you could not afford to have, not right now. You stared down at him just as he looked up at you, swollen and bulging with your offspring, mindlessly stroking his huge stomach with cum still trickling down his ass and thighs. 

Fuck. You were so hungry. You would always be hungry for him.

Sukuna’s face split into an arrogant smirk. “Why, after all that, and you still want more.” 

“Do not,” you warned lowly, trying your best to look away, even as he shamelessly spread his legs, showing you the mess you had made between his thighs. “Sukuna. Not now.” 

“Why not?” he leered, taking pleasure in your distress. “Scared you will break me?” 

You growled. “Yes.” 

“Weak,” he taunted. “I do not remember picking a weak fool as my mate.” 

“I am not weak.” You bared your teeth at him, and he simply laughed at you. 

“So easy to rile up,” he hummed. “Come here.” 

“... No.” 

He looked even more amused. “Come over, brat. I will not do anything vile.” 

“So you know you are vile,” you said, and despite your words, begrudgingly strut over and buried your face into his neck, ignoring the dull heat persisting in your lower abdomen. 

Sukuna sighed as you lapped affectionately at the fresh mating bite, closing his eyes and basking in the heat of your body. “I never- ah- denied it in the first place.” 

You pulled back to glower at him, clawed hands settling back on his hips where they belonged—now carrying the weight of your offspring. He reached up to cradle your face now that you were steadying him, unfazed by your glare. 

“And you still love this vile creature?” he murmured, gazing at you with an expression no less than tender.

“Love,” you repeated, like it would make sense if you said it a second time. You felt more for him than just love. If love only made your skin feel warm and your heart beat fast, like the mortals have told, then this feeling was something much, much more than love. 

Sukuna merely grinned, and you knew he felt the same. 

kinktober masterlist! masterlist!

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

REDAMANCY. 18+

pairing. logan howlett x fem!reader word count. 3915 summary. you often worry you can never keep up with your husband's continuous acts of love and care, your attempts always seeming to come up short. logan catches on and shows you that there’s nothing for you to prove. warnings. 18+ only!! reader has a moment of inadequacy at the beginning, logan being attentive<3 quick description of thigh riding but it's not proper, titty kissing, fingering, cum eating? (licks his fingers) pinv sex. angst start, fluff middle, smut ending. mdni a/n. #needthat

Feelings of inadequacy seem to follow you like a stray dog. The constant, repetitive thought that what you do or say or think or feel may never be enough. But it was silly really, to be afraid of the contents of your own mind, especially when you had no reason to feel that way.

You thought these feelings were controlled, contained even. But as you anxiously twist your wedding ring upon your left finger, you can’t help but slip into that prior mindset you believed to be packed away. You beside the stove, mindlessly watching the simmering pot of tonight's dinner, staring at the vegetables bubble around in the sauce. 

It was Logan’s favourite, and it was a token of your appreciation for yet another grand gesture of his love towards you – the thanks a slither of what he does for you on the daily. But as you watch over the chicken pie filling in the saucepan, you can’t help but notice something missing, something that’s supposed to be there but isn’t. 

And when you blink from your fixed, hazed stare, you see exactly what you need on the countertop. The chopped up pieces of bacon on the board —his favourite part— sitting there like it’s mocking you, telling you that you’re terrible for forgetting it. And it’s not like you can add it now, it would be horrible and ruin it completely. 

All you can do now is move on, move past it. Though now it feels like you can do anything but. The bacon a reminder of your apparent failures, inadequacies. It was silly to be caught up on missing meat, but it wasn’t just about that – it was like it was even more proof that you were out of your depth with Logan. That forgetting the bacon somehow made you a horrible, horrible person.

You stare at the board for a moment, trying so desperately hard not to let it get to you and then you see Logan walk past the window – a couple fresh chopped logs of wood under one arm, an axe and a bunch of wildflowers in the hand of his other. And somehow the sight made you feel nothing short of awful. His thought and care once again overshadowing your attempts.

You quickly wipe under your eyes, an act of precaution to make sure nothing had seeped from you while you beat yourself up over something so tiny. You follow the sound of the front door opening, the scuffling of his boots following shortly after as he places down the pieces of timber. 

“Smells fuckin’ good,” he compliments, the warm, homely smell hitting at his nose immediately. 

He walks over to you, right, flower-held hand tucked from your view as he moves to stand behind, free arm reaching for your waist the second he’s close enough. 

“I got’ya somethin’,” he whispers behind you, punctuating his sentence with a kiss under your ear – his neck peering round and over your shoulder. 

You turn into him, your back against the edge of the counter to see what you already knew to be in his hand. He pulls the flowers from behind his back, the stems cut neatly with the help of his adamantium tools. They’re beautiful, all hand picked from the surrounding forest around the cabin. 

He guides them to your hand, noticing your unusual hesitation as you stare at the bouquet. He, too, pauses, looking over your face to understand your silence. Did you hate them? You never usually hate them.

“Do you…” he hesitates, trying to find the words. “Hate them?”

“No,” you say, word soft as you shake your head, the motion just as gentle as your voice.

Logan cocks his head slightly, angling to meet your eyes but you only divert them again, turning away from his gaze as you reach for the bunch of flowers. Only now they’re out of your grasp, his hand to his chest. 

“You okay?” he asks, the withdrawal of the gift an attempt to make you meet his eyes. 

“Yeah,” you lie with a nod, a small, faint, smile accompanying the fib. 

“You’re not lying to me, are you?” 

You look over him quickly, expression bashful as you shrug. He hates when you lie to him, especially about these things. It was only a white lie really, just a small, teeny tiny mistruth to spare yourself from embarrassment. But your silence doesn’t last long.

“I messed up dinner,” you admit, the confession pried from you by his prolonged, patient silence. Your words are quiet as you avoid his eyes, instead staring down to his chest.

He glances past you and into the saucepan, seeing no such fault. He faintly shakes his head, features quizzical as he tries to understand.

“It looks good to me,” he says, with a slight, but genuine shrug – unable to see what you see.

You close your eyes with a sigh, the noise light and airy as your head drops, gaze lowering. 

“I forgot the bacon.”

His head cocks once again, the motion like he’s growing more and more confused. 

“Yeah?” he prompts, trying to get you to say more. 

But that’s all there is to say, you forgot the bacon – that’s it. It wasn’t like it was a pause or the beginning of some speech.

“It’s your favourite part,” you reply, defeat evident in your voice. 

“Uh-uh?” he guides you through your confession, still unsure of what the issue is. He knew there was more, he just had to ease it out of you. 

“It’s your favourite part,” you repeat, momentarily glancing up to meet his eyes. “It’s not your favourite meal if I forget your favourite part,” you cut yourself short as your voice begins to waver, a bubble forming in your the back of your throat. 

He holds onto your short eye contact, following your gaze when your head goes to turn. “Come on now, talk to me,” he offers his comfort, speaking like it was a plea.

“I feel like I can never keep up.”

“Keep up with what?” he questions, desperate to keep you talking. 

“With you,” you pause and place your hand over your opposite upper arm, the act a brief moment of self soothing. You exhale softly before continuing. “You do all these nice things for me— see? Look,” you point to the flowers in his hand. “Right there. You thought of me and you got them and they’re beautiful. Why can’t I do that?”

Logan opens his mouth to speak, though you’re keen to continue. The bandaid free and invoking all your feelings to come out at once. 

“I make you desserts, I make a mess. I buy you something, I buy the wrong thing. I make your favourite dinner, I ruin your favourite dinner,” you pause, your vision growing blurry. “Sometimes,” you pause once more, wiping your eyes. “Sometimes I don’t know if you know how much I love you. Like, I can never seem to prove it and I don’t—” you cut yourself off, stopping yourself from what you were about to say. You didn’t want to make a further mess of things. 

“You don’t, what?” he asks, his attention undivided as he listens to you. “You don’t, what?” he repeats, eyes boring into yours as he urges a response from you. 

“Want you to feel like you made a mistake,” you confess, voice quiet like you were ashamed for thinking such thing. 

“Do you think I made a mistake?” he questions, flipping your moment of insecurity back on you. Though his words hold no malice, no intention of hurt – just simply speaking like he was trying to figure you out. 

Your silence speaks louder than any words could. Your eyes quickly flickering over his face like you were anticipating what he may say in response. It could go one of two ways: irritated and angry or soft and hurt. 

“I haven’t,” he says, voice as firm as his eyes. “I know I haven’t,” he repeats, trying to engrain it into you. 

All you can offer Logan is a faint, flattered smile, fragments of disbelief just as evident within you as before. One thing about your husband you knew to be forever true, is his earnest nature. So you knew he wasn’t telling you what you wanted to hear only to spare himself.

Logan places the flowers on the counter to the right of you, laying the bunch neatly at your side. He keeps his attention on you, eyes fixed on yours as if he’s trying to prove his sincerity – his honesty. 

His head drops slightly as he rests his lips against your forehead. “Do you believe me?” he asks gently against your skin, punctuating his question with a kiss to where he just spoke.

You wrap your arms around him as you tuck your face into his neck, hands connecting in the middle of his back. “Yeah,” you reply, word muffling into him. 

It was a lie, a partial lie at that. You knew in your heart —deep, deep in there— that it was true, and that you believed it, but right now? You just couldn’t get it into your head. So you lied, not wanting to run around in circles with repetitive asks all evening.

But this is Logan, he knows your tells and when you’re lying. But he doesn’t poke any further, instead pressing another kiss to your forehead before pulling away, clearing his throat briefly. 

“Why don’t you go lay in the tub,” he starts, usual gruff voice now soft, speaking like he’s trying to soothe you. “I’ll finish that off,” he gestures with his eyes, nodding to the stove top on the other side of you. 

You turn to look at the ‘mess’ beside you and nod, accepting his help with no more deflecting or avoiding. And as you step aside, you stroke over his back where your hands laid just moments before, the act another one of your silent thanks.

His left, ringed hand brushes your left, ringed hand as you move from your placement in front of him, your fingers loosely entwining for a short, brief second before passing. 

⎯ ☆ ⎯

Standing in front of the dresser in your shared bedroom, you change from your towel and into something a little more comfortable – opting for a robe and slippers. You give yourself a quick glance over as you pass the mirror on your way out the room, though you don’t take too much notice, instead flicking off the light switch as you set off to the living room.

The bath helped. It helped massively, actually. 

Your slippers scuffle along the hallway of your cabin, the floorboards worn and creaky by it’s old age. Lingering in the doorframe, you look over at Logan on the sofa, elbows resting on his knees as he stares at the lit fireplace ahead – looking as though he’s lost in thought.

“Hi,” you start, capturing his attention.

His eyes flick up to you, a faint —his usual— smile welcoming you back. He clears his throat like he’s going to speak but instead he taps the empty seat on the couch beside him.

You look around the open space before your eyes land on the orange, warm light shining out of the oven and onto the tiles. The pie you started to make now sitting on the centre shelf. The rest of your messes cleaned and tucked away, all evidence hidden. And there he sits, asking for no recognition – no praise or approval for cleaning up after you. He’s just there, patiently awaiting you.

“How long’s it been in?” you ask, gesturing to the oven. “The pie,” you add, turning to look at him with a smile.

“Three minutes,” he reciprocates your warmth as he nods you over to him. 

“Did you let the pastry warm up?”

He nods.

“And the—” 

“Taken care of,” he interrupts, slipping his hand into yours. He guides you to stand between his legs, eyes honed in on you above. Like he’s anticipating you, he answers the question you’re about to ask – once again proving just how well he knows you. 

“Cooked it in ‘nother pan then added it on top,” he replies, speaking casually.

You stifle a laugh as you shake your head – it was really a simple fix. 

With his gaze still focused on you, he begins playing with your left hand, his thumb mindlessly grazing your ring – the fiddling an absentminded act. As if he’s reminding him and yourself of your marital bond.

“Thank you.”

He hums, the sound far more gentle than his typical rough ones. It’s like he’s acknowledging your appreciation without taking the credit for it.

You extend your free hand, reaching for the side of his face, touch light as you brush over his cheek. Your thumb traces under his eye, soothing over the tired skin as you take a step closer – silently instructing him to lean against the back.

Logan does as wordlessly asked, his hips rolling underneath himself as he repositions, sitting in a manspread for you. He follows your movements as you sit on his lap, straddling one of his beefy thighs, your arms briefly hooking around his neck as you do so. He looks up at you from your very, very slight height advantage, eyes keen as he gazes into yours – staring like he’s trying to read you. You seem far lighter, far happier than the last time he saw you. 

One hand rests on his cheek, the other grazing through the shorts of his dark hair – your hold gentle and dear as you press a string of soft, slow kisses across the stubble of his beard. One by one you get closer to his mouth, reaching his lips by the fourth. 

His hands move up you from behind, skimming across the cheeks of your ass until they’re resting on your hips, the presence of his hold noticeable through the robes' thin fabric. He begins a pawing – irregular, needy squeezes into you like he’s silently communicating his thoughts and wants, scoping out whether you feel the same. 

“How much time is left on the pie?” you quietly ask, speaking against his lips. Your question also an attempt to scope him out.

His grasp around you tightens, the slight force of his hold making your grind against his thigh. “Enough,” he prompts, murmuring into your mouth – lips not yet daring to connect.

He grinds you over your thigh, the motion slow and leisured as he holds you over him, working you up little by little. Gentle exasperated breaths from you caught between your closeness. 

Upon hearing those sounds he loves ever so much, he pulls you into him, wrapping you into a brief, momentary hug before turning and laying you on the empty space of sofa beside him. He adjusts, situating above you but to your side, weight anchored beside you. 

You look up at him sweetly, eyes flickering over his face in the same way he does you – specks of admiration and lust forming within each of your glances. You adjust under him, the act like you were trying to redirect him, guide him to above rather than to your side. Wanting to feel him graze up against you.

Logan brings his free hand to the side of your face, touch heavy and desperate as he thumbs over your cheek, holding you there as he presses a couple lengthy kisses to your lips – the contact anything but brisk. And with that hand around the swell of your cheek, he’s grazing it down your neck, trailing towards your chest. 

He parts the loose, flimsy material of the robe, parting the fabric so he can slip a hand inside. Cupping one of your bare tits, he pulls it out from underneath – the full weight of your breast held within his warm, large hand. All of it on display for him to marvel at from above. 

Angling his neck, he reaches for your tit, tongue swiping over the nipple just moments before his lips encompass it. The warmth of his mouth making your stomach tingle and fingers tighten in his hair, a jolt-like roll of your hips accompanying your desperate micro actions.

He holds himself there for a prolonged moment, keeping his lips to your nipple as his fingers begin a very slight pawing around the lower swell of it. The motion like he’s rolling you within his hold. A streak of residual wet being left behind as he pulls his head up from your chest.

You look down to him between your tits, his face just mere inches from yours. One of your breasts still within Logan’s manly hold, the pad of his thumb rubbing over your priorly sucked nipple — the act a soothing caress. 

“Where’d you want me?” he asks, voice quiet between your close distance. “What’d you want?” he adds, just as softly as before, speaking like his one goal is to provide service. Service to you. 

You make a faint, disgruntled whine upon his questioning, your mind whizzing with thoughts of him, ideas of him. The feel of his cock growing hard against your thigh only making your head race faster. 

He shifts above you, lips reaching for yours as his hand around your tit travels down and between your thighs. The warmth of his touch is nothing like your warmth. He slips behind the opening of your robe, his fingers itching to your bare cunt ever so slowly, moving like he’s trying to help you decide. Though he’s doing the complete opposite — making it all the more challenging to answer with your mind whirring like it is. 

He lines the crease of your cunt with the pad of his finger, brushing up and down with the lightest, faintest of touch — his lips resting against yours so he can swallow your jittery breaths. The strokes from him are almost mindless, brushing over you like he’s unaware of the effects he has on you. Still has on you after all this time. 

“This?” he whispers against your mouth while his finger trails up the slit of your pussy, grazing over your folds.

You nod against him in response, the motion gentle and careful.

Logan teases over your cunt’s lips, collecting the slight build up of slick to smear and trace over you — spreading your arousal with his light touch. Working you up the and more. He pulls away to look over you, wanting to watch your face. 

And when your eyes find his, that’s when he slips his middle finger into you. Holding onto your gaze as he presses inside with the utmost of ease. 

It was what you needed, not what you wanted. And he could tell — the knitting of your brows and slightly unsatisfied crumple of your nose telling him before you even got a chance. And as you open your mouth to speak, mere milliseconds away from asking him to add another, he’s already lining his ring finger up with you, slipping it inside to accompany his middle. 

The steady rocking of him further blurs any sense of coherency in your mind, the slow massage-like fucking of his fingers against your g-spot loosening you up nicely for him. 

Your hand in his hair moves to the side of his face, grip desperate as you hold him there, muffling incoherent words of thanks — each murmur being overshadowed by those blissed noises he can never seem to get enough of. And while you keep his face to yours, your other hand is reaching for his arm between your thighs, fingers struggling to enwrap the meat of his upper wrist. 

The pumping of his fingers into you is steady, each graze of him from the inside coming from a place of leisure, like the concept of haste is the furthest thing in his mind. 

Though, he’s only human and there’s only so much he can take. Especially when you’re squirming under him like you are. The clicking of his fingers in your pussy only making it harder on him. 

So, he slowly retracts from the wet warmth of your cunt, strings of your cum remaining connected to him, until they don’t. And as he pulls himself away from you, he licks over his knuckles, lapping over the milky white band you left around him.

Logan sits on his heels between your thighs as he unbuckles his jeans, his dry hand tasked with the job of unbuttoning. He gives the band a hasty tug down, the act nothing short of pure desperation. 

He digs down the front to grab a hold on himself, grasp tight around his dick as he pulls it out over the top of his jeans. Cock hard and heavy within his hold. And as he gives himself a few preparatory strokes as he leans back over you in his prior hovered position — weight anchored on his free arm beside your head.

Guiding his cock to you between the opening of your robe, he pushes his head through your lips, collecting your arousal like it’s his personal, endless supply of lube. And only when he deems himself ready, he’s lining up with you, the tip of his dick pressing up against you for a brief moment before he’s easing in. Slowly but surely feeding himself into your cunt. 

Upon the entry of his thick, heavy cock, your hands fly up to his face, holding either cheek to keep him close, lips skimming like they did just minutes before. Breath being caught in your throat, the air almost trapped as you feel him sink further and further inside, filling you entirely with himself.

He stills, keeping the whole, full length of his cock plugged inside, the motion of his hips non-existent as he gives you a quick second to get reacquainted with his size. He lowers his head, pressing his forehead against yours while he catches his own breath, the suction-like feel from your cunt having the same effect on him as he does you.

You squirm underneath him and your knees cling to his sides, keeping him glued to you.

“Move,” you whisper, the word like that of pure need. “Come on.”

His lips straighten against yours, a subtle smile forming. “Thought’ya liked the buildup,” he speaks quietly. 

The hand that was around his dick, feeding into you, now rests on your face — carefully manhandling you and keeping you put. Logan nips at your lips quickly, pressing a chaste kiss to them as he rolls his hips into you, bumping his cock up.

“That’s what you wanted?” he teases, pressing a kiss just under your chin, making you tilt your head back. Hand moving with the motion of him, palm grazing to rest at the base of your throat. “It is, ain’t it?” he continues with his teasing, muttering between kisses along your jaw. “Hm?”

You hum, the noise sounding like a whine amongst your other blissed sounds. The concept of formulating coherent speech seeming to be far too difficult with the way he feels inside of you. All you can do is squeeze your eyes closed and nod, unable to do anything more than that – just lay beneath him, taking his tender, loving fucking. 

Logan’s one true goal: to replace all prior feelings of pain with pleasure, wanting to make you forget about your upset from before. And with the way his dick is winding into you, he’s getting closer to that goal. 

⎯ ☆ ⎯

including the moodboard bc she’s cute

[screampied]

gojo had a dream you died.

it was partially the reason why he woke up in a cold sweat… it was horrid.

he could still hear your screams, the life leaving your eyes, but more importantly, he remembered your final words that were murmured to him. “satoru, don’t… cry, i’ll be okay, it’ll be okay.” and he believed you, that everything would be okay. despite tears filling his eyes, labeled the strongest at that moment, he couldn’t have ever felt so weak.

the dream felt so real, that was the scary part. he remembered each and every detail. from the feeling of you giving his wrist a light squeeze, the sweet smell of your natural scent.. the eerie sounds of your irregular wheezes as you were clinging on your final moments.

“don’t leave me,” he mutters, he remembers saying that. three simple words, yet his dilated pupils spoke a thousand. he started to repeat it. again and again as if it was a mantra. his words, his tone broke the more he spoke to you. that cute smile of yours never left your lips, it remained there. regardless of your inevitable incoming fate, he sobs, “you’re…you’re all i have left. i don’t wanna be left alone again, just stay. please, baby.”

“i’m not going anywhere, ‘toru,” you’d reassure him, a single tear drop of his falls onto your cheek.

after that moment, gojo wakes up. trembling, yet the dream wasn’t that feared him the most. it was him waking up with you not next to him..

cold, everything felt cold.

he shot up immediately from his dream. the cold sweat that forever continued to race down his back as he panted.

he was so used to your warmth taking up part of the bed. albeit, in this case though. it felt empty,

isolated.

it was near the middle of the night, gojo was drowsy, rubbing his eyes to blind his vision with imaginary stars. feeling for the bed, it was frigid.

“baby?” he’d grumble, white lashes partially open. silence called back to him, if it was anything about gojo, he hated being alone.

oh, he loathed it,

yet whenever you came into his life—he didn’t have to worry about that. you were always besides him, no matter what.

until now.

it takes him a split second before it dawns on him. your fatal death, it wasn’t another one of his silly surreal dreams. it was nothing but mere reality.

a breath gets caught in his throat once he realizes, being brought back into harsh realness. you were gone.

it’s been years, speaking of which…

it was your anniversary with him. the same exact day he proposed to you. he remembers it vividly, getting down on one knee with the goofiest grin. he didn’t even say, “will you marry me..?” instead, he snorts a sheepish, “let’s get married, heh.”

“i always forget around this time,” gojo sighs to himself with a soft tone, his voice was a bit raspy from abruptly waking up. intaking a sharp inhale, he goes towards your side of the bed and he reaches into his pocket.

“it should have been me,” and he doesn’t even care he’s talking to himself, it’s like for whatever reason, your presence was near him. “our marriage,” and then with a brief sniffle, he glances down at the ring you once wore proudly. he strokes it with a thumb before huffing out a shaky, “our marriage, it was supposed to last us for infinity…”

but it didn’t.

with hot tears streaming down his face and stuck a power he wished he’d never have, in the end, it couldn’t save you.

he couldn’t save you.

and now…

the strongest, the most brave to ever live and walk could easily be mistaken as the weakest.

[pierregazly]

breakfast for three ꨄ lando norris

lando norris x wife!reader

warnings: mentions of mother's day, lando and reader have a son, fluff [861 words]

request: 💗 i was wondering if i could please request prompt 3 with lando norris? [3. "Go back to sleep."]

The soft giggles broke through your warm slumber, a small smile pulling onto your lips as you felt the little hands squishing your cheeks. Wrapping your arms around the small body that had found itself on top of you, the giggles grew as you pulled his little body closer to yours.

“Mama, no!” 

The little boy squealed, his arms trying to break free of your hold as you littered his face with groggy kisses, blowing raspberries into the soft skin as the loud giggles continued.

“I think I’ve found myself a wild Archie this morning, haven’t I?” 

He shook his head instantly, pushing at your hands that tickled under his armpits, squealing in laughter as he continued to try and get away.

“No, Mama, no! I wanted to wake you up with a big kiss,” he enunciated the word big, pressing a slobbery kiss to your cheek once you finally halted your own attack.

“Oh did you, my sweet little love? Shall I give you a big kiss in return?”

He nodded his head eagerly, turning his cheek towards you with a toothy grin. Instantly pressing a large kiss to his little cheek, he cuddled into you, pressing his chin into your shoulder as the soft giggles returned.

“Archie, mate! I told you not to wake her up, we were supposed to be making breakfast for her and bringing it to her in bed, you silly boy,” Lando hollered from the door.

A pout formed on your son’s face, his face turning back into you as he tried to melt his body into yours. 

“I jus’ wanted a little snuggle, Mama,” the little boy whispered into your ear, a small smile pulling across your face at his words.

He always wanted a little snuggle in the morning, a tradition from the day he was born. From Lando picking him up and out of the crib to snuggle in bed, to the little boy eagerly crawling in between the two of you on Christmas morning; he always found a way to squeeze an extra snuggle in.

You felt him being picked up from beside you, a soft ‘no’ flying from his lips as he glared at the man above him. 

“Off you go to the kitchen, little man. Don’t you wanna spoil Mum for her big day? Daddy will burn everything without your help, Arch,” a look of horror overtook the little boy’s face at your husband’s words. He wiggled to get out of the arms holding him, ungracefully dropping to the floor below him.

His little feet pattered against the carpet, towards the direction of the kitchen. Lando turned towards you with a smirk.

“Mama’s boy til’ the end of his days, I swear,” he said with a shake of his head.

Leaning down to press a kiss against your forehead, you smiled up at him, your hand gently grazing the grown-out stubble on his cheeks. 

“Just like his own daddy, don’t act like you’re not a little Mama’s boy, Lan,” you said.

Shrugging his shoulders, he simply grinned down at you. “Course’ I am, taught him well, didn’ I? His idea to cook you a little Mother’s Day brekky, jus’ for him to disappear and wake you up.”

Laughing softly, shaking your head at your son’s usual antics. You felt the fondness inside of you grow, a yearning to feel your son cuddled into your arms again, breakfast or no breakfast.

“Go back to sleep for a little bit, baby. It’s going to take us a little bit, he got all the waffle mix on the floor. Hasn’t been much help, really,” he said.

Quirking an eyebrow up at him, “You sure it’s not you that hasn’t been much help? Don’t think I’ve seen you cook breakfast once in the years we’ve been together.”

Pinching your bare shoulder, you whacked at his hand with a small laugh.

“You brat, I cooked you brekky last Mother’s Day, don’t act up or I’ll give you a little spank,” he said, a cocky grin overtaking his features.

Biting the corner of your lip, you let your finger gently tug on one of his overgrown curls as he grinned down at you.

“Hm, maybe that’s what I’m looking for. Good start to making a little brother or sister for Archie, don’t ya’ think?” 

The soft murmur of words prompted a redness to grow across Lando’s face, his hand cupping your cheek with a cheeky grin on his own face.

“Should I lock Archie out for a little bit, tell him the door’s closed and to jus’ play with the waffle mix for a little? Could get started right now, Mama,” he said, a wicked glint in his eyes.

Shoving at his shoulder with a laugh, you pushed him away from you, pulling the comforter tighter around your body. 

“I believe I was promised a wonderful Mother’s Day brekky, no? Get to it, Lan.”

Pressing another kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips, the Brit pulled back from you. 

“Happy Mother’s Day, my love. Go back to sleep for a bit, it’s your day for us to spoil you for once.”

Happy Mother's Day to everyone who celebrates, to all the Mother's who are forgotten, who aren't given the love and celebration they deserve, the Mother's without their children today, the Mother's with their rainbow babies, their fur babies, their babies who are no longer with us - I hope you treat yourself well today.

To everyone with negative feelings towards Mother's Day, who do not look at this day with love and adoration - know that you are valid, and you owe no explanations. I hope you treat yourself with love and care today as well.

[changisworld]

“Why do you make me feel like this, pretty?”

fuckboy!hyunjin x reader

Word count; 5,902

Summary: After hyunjin took your virginity, you grew attached despite trying your hardest not to. You find out he hooked up with someone the day after it happened which broke your heart, making you cry.. but of course, hyunjin caught you crying. He didn’t really know what he felt, it being new to him, as he tries to refuse the silly ideas popping into his brain, he can’t ignore how much you being upset is making his heart.. hurt?? Surely he doesn’t like you too..?

18+ ONLY, MDNI, SMUT UNDER THE CUT.

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

main masterlist here

part 3 here

**This can be read on its own despite it probably being confusing but i highly recommend reading part 1!**

SMUT WARNINGS: spit/drool, PIV, needy reader, pet names, shyish reader, rimming( f rec), oral ( f rec), fingering (f rec), finger sucking, unprotected sex, jealous jinnie, edging???,pull out method, literally 1 spank, slight dacryphilia, jealous jinnie, soft jinnie, kind jinnie, hyunjins a tease obvs, slight aftercare, wayyy fluffier ending than last time you're welcome!!

You & Hyunjin walk off campus, you still hiding your face from him, embarrassed at the tears now staining your cheeks, your face tinged red, you also don't fail to miss the looks you & Hyunjin are receiving from other students walking past the both of you, his arm still around you & you can't help but feel judged, so you push his arm off.

"Forget the cafe, I'm just gonna go home, I feel.. sick. I'll see you later Hyunjin." you murmur, still not looking at him in the eye.

"Y/n stop being weird, just cmon. I promise to cheer you up." He replies back, reaching out to cup your cheek but you move your head before murmuring a quick 'bye' before walking away from him hastily, leaving him standing there, confused & a bit annoyed.

He watches as you turn the corner & he huffs before kicking a stone nearby. 'Why do I care she's actually upset? 'What did I do wrong?' 'I hope she's okay' & 'Shit how can I apologise' are all thoughts that race through his head, no matter how much he tries to shake it all off, he genuinely feels guilty. But why? He never feels sorry for the girls he fucks n chucks, so what makes it different? He barely even knows you? He only spoke to you for a week which is barely anything. He sighs before pulling out his phone & going onto his contacts, about to call Joy, another one of his side things, before deciding against it, instead calling his friend Jisung& asking to meet him.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ::✼✿　　✿✼:ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Twenty minutes later Jisung meets him at the local dog walking park & they end up sitting on a bench, talking about random stuff before the topic of you comes up, but not because of Hyunjin.

“You’re lucky you got to partner up with y/n for that assignment, I got put with Changbin so obviously i fucking failed, tryna do that presentation on the spot was absolute torture, you still talk to her? she seems quiet as hell.” Han sighs, sipping his bubble tea through his straw & Hyunjin laughs.

“Ay! I actually helped her so shut up, just because you both have no more than eight brain cells, i’m just proof there is such a thing as looks & beauty. Nah, we haven’t really spoken since, just been busy i suppose & what the hell am i meant to say to her?” Hyunjin replies, a quick chuckle leaving his lips.

“What do you mean you’re proof that looks n beauty exist, y/n basically invented it you idiot. Wha'cha mean what are you meant to say to her? Did you fuck her too or something?" Han questions, leaning forward.

Hyunjin just kisses his teeth before nodding & Han just raises his eyebrows. "fuck, I didn't think someone like y/n would get around that way. Can you do me a favour n start speaking to her again n put in a good word about me I wanna approach her but she feels intimidating, you get me?" Once Hyunjin hears these words, a bad & gross feeling bubbles up in his stomach.. is what he feeling... jealousy?

"Uhh.. you're really not her type, she's not up for dating, she told me. Go try your luck with someone else." Hyunjin says in a bitter tone, not looking at the man in front of him & Han scoffs.

"You chat shit Hyunjin, stop gatekeeping! I'll just use my charms & trust me, we'll be fucking a week later n dating two weeks later." Jisung jokes, patting Hyunjins leg but he pushes it off.

"You're ridiculous Jisung, she won't want what's between your legs." Hyunjin spits out before standing up off the bench, stretching out & sighing. "I have things to do, you can keep day dreaming, I'll see you later. choke on your boba." Hyunjin jokes with Han & he spits out a bubble as a response before he walks away, leaving Han on the bench.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ::✼✿　　✿✼:ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

He walks through the rest of the park, thinking about Hans words & he can't get over it. 'Why am I so jealous?' 'Who does he honestly think he is talking about y/n like that?' 'They wouldn't even look good together.' are things that keep racing through his head & he is getting more pissed off as the seconds go by.

He gets out of the park & he keeps walking on the pavement, not having an actual destination in mind.. until he seen you walking out of a random convenience store across the street & a lightbulb lights up behind his brown eyes.

He picks up the pace of his walk as he follows just far enough behind you on the other side of the road until you reach your apartment complex before entering & he can't help but feel like an absolute creep, but that doesn't stop him. He screenshots his location on find my Iphone, just so he won't forget where to go later on as he walks back the way he came, heading to the main line of shops near the campus.

He strolls around for around twenty minutes, looking at random little trinkets, bookmarks with the college logo on it, which he cringes at due to the look of it, before he keeps walking until he reaches a little florist shop.

He enters it, aimlessly walking around, fingertips grazing over a few roses & tulips, admiring the pretty colours as he sets his eyes on a bouquet of lillies. He picks it up, giving himself a better look at it before deciding he is happy with it, heading to the counter.

He places them down, not paying attention to the cashier as he looks at the little vases beside the register.

"Can I get this pink vase to- ohh, I didn't know you worked here Jennie, hiya." he says, surprised. "Sure. You know, Lisa doesn't like lillies, I suggest you get her daffodils, her favourite colour being yellow n all." she responds, smiling up at him. "Ah, they.. they're not for Lisa so I'll pass. Can you fill up the vase with a bit of water too? I think that's what you're supposed to do, right?" he says quickly, hand coming up to the back of his neck, the awkwardness filling the small space.

"mhmm. £29.11 is the total." She says in a cold voice, taking the tag off the vase as she turns around to the small sink, filling up the vase 1/3 of the way. She dumps the bouquet in the vase with no care at all before pushing it towards him, giving him the card machine. He pays, a strained, awkward smile on his face before saying thank you & leaving.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ::✼✿　　✿✼:ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

After buying you a box of chocolates & a Vanilla bean smelling candle & following the path you walked on earlier, he ends up back outside your apartment complex.

He sits on the front steps, waiting for someone to leave the building so he can catch the door & once he is inside, he begins knocking on every door, talking to each person who answers in a quiet voice, Ignoring the confused looks of other students who recognise him who are all definitely wondering why he is knocking doors looking for you, making sure you wouldn't hear him & then refuse to open the door.

He reaches the fourth floor, mouth slightly dry from all the talking he has had to do & he is beginning to doubt his memory. He knocks on the third door & takes a step back, waiting for an answer as he hears footsteps & he can't help the smile that spreads across his face as you are the one who open the door.

"Surprise, & I'm not just talking about my pretty face. Can I come in?" he chirps as he raises his arms, making sure you see what he has brought despite it being almost all you can see, not missing the chance to give you an up & down look, you wearing black tight shorts & an oversized off the shoulder graphic shirt.

"Hyunjin, I told you I was sick.. How the hell do you know where I live?" you question, honestly just confused. "Does that matter? I asked a question, Don't leave me standing here I went to like twenty doors to find you!" he pouts. You roll your eyes & begin to shut the door but Hyunjin stops it with his foot.

"Okay okay okay! I followed you, but not in a creepy way I swear! I just wanted to.. apologise? But I knew you would ghost me If I text you." he says in a sulky voice. You groan before opening the door back open, his pretty face poking through the gap. "You are a creep, you know that? Why you apologising?" you question him, crossing your arms, not amused but slightly flattered despite not showing it.

"I'm not going to broadcast my deep, heart warming words in the corridor for everyone to hear, just let me inside, pleaseee." he pouts again & you just sigh before moving out of the way so he can enter, taking his shoes off as soon as they touch your laminate flooring.

You walk into your connected living room & kitchen before sitting on your corner kitchen counter, your legs swinging off it as Hyunjin follows behind you, looking around at the cute random decorations hung up on your walls & on the mantle pieces.

He places the flowers on your coffee table before walking back into your small kitchen & leaning on the opposite counter top, still holding the chocolates & candle.

"Okay, Can I give you my apology now? I rehearsed this to make sure I get everything right." He tries to joke but you just look at him with a blank expression before nodding, encouraging him to continue. "Okay, I didn't realise how much I've upset you & I'm sorry for not trying to check up on you sooner & stopped speaking to you. I partially didn't even mean to ghost you but I also genuinely thought you wouldn't speak to me anymore since you're always so concentrated on lessons & studying, I thought you would have thought I was getting in your way. I'm also sorry for fucking with that girl & you overheard it, if I'm genuinely being honest, I did it to try wipe my mind of you. I know what we did is a huge thing & it was wrong of me to have acted the way I did, if i'm being honest, this was the first time I did what we did so I just didn't really know how to act, but I'm genuinely sorry y/n. Chocolates?"

He blurts out, not taking his eyes off you as he feels his cheeks go hot, the nerves & also the way you're looking at him making him flustered. You both sit in silence for a minute, him waiting for a response & you thinking of a response.

"Gimme the box & light the candle for me, second drawer to your right n you will find a lighter. If you felt like this all week, You've still had seven days to come n tell me this but instead you've let me feel like shit for a week, this was the exact reason I was unsure to do it with you Hyunjin, in fear something like this would have happened & instead of just growing a pair & talking to me, you fuck someone else to just try forget?" You reply, your voice getting a bit shaky without meaning it, the feelings of it all hitting you again.

Hyunjin listens as he digs into his pocket & pulling out his own lighter & lighting it before putting it on the counter & he walks the few steps over to you, handing you the chocolate before standing right in front of you, leaning his hands on the counter on the outside of your legs, caging you in.

"Please y/n, don't think like that. I know I should have swallowed my pride n apologised earlier, I was just trying to convince myself I didn't give a fuck but I do, hence why I'm here. I honestly think you used those crystals & manifested this or something." he mumbles the last part, looking away from you, his ears going red after hearing his words out loud & your legs stop swinging as you pause at his words.

"What do you mean you actually give a fuck? What are you trying to say." you reply back, resisting the urge to reach out & stroke his hair. Hyunjin sighs & shakes his head. "Don't make me spit it out y/n, It's just gonna sound like a lie to you." You get an anxious feeling in your belly before taking his chin & guiding him to look back up at you. "Hyunjin, just say it, it's only me here anyway. Just say what you gotta say." you respond in a quiet but firm voice, honestly scared.

He doesn't have much option but to look at you as he lets himself melt into your hand lightly before taking a deep breath. "I.. care about you? I don't know, it feels weird but like... I genuinely felt like shit after how I treated you n i've tried to bury it but it just won't leave, I don't really know what it is about you n honestly it scares me." he says in a quiet, quick tone & your jaw drops.

You just freeze as you both just look at each other in complete silence not including the quiet crackling of the candle & your living room clock ticking. Hyunjin can't bare the awkwardness anymore as he gets shy for the first time in years, moving his arms to stand completely upright but you pull him in by the shirt to hug him, tears threatening to leave your eyes as his arms wrap around you in return.

"This better not be some sort of sick joke Hyunjin or i swear I'll kill you, you're gonna boost my ego to a fraction of what yours is." you half laugh as he nuzzles his face into your neck, inhaling your sweet smell. "It's not, dead serious. You're just different n I don't know how to feel about it, stop casting spells to make me attached to you. I've been itching to ask to see you all week, I wish I wasn't being so stubborn." he muffles into your neck, moving his head side to side slightly, his nose tickling your neck, making you lean more into him, chuckling at his stupid joke.

"Stop with the silly magic jokes, you're ridiculous. I want to say you're not forgiven since you need to prove to me you're not talking out your ass but I do accept your indeed heart warming apology & I appreciate it just more than the flowers n chocolate." you say in a soft voice & you feel Hyunjin smile against your neck before he moves & kisses the tip of your nose, smiling like a Cheshire cat.

"That's what I wanted to hear, I wouldn't be able to handle it if you had told me to fuck off, my first ever rejection coming from the first person I've ever bought a present for that isn't my mom." You chuckle at this before hopping off the counter, grabbing the box of chocolates that were staring at you.

"Rejection? You tryna say you like meee?" you tease, taking his hands before swaying them back & forth & he rolls his eyes, chuckling. "Was it not kinda obvious? I wanted to say it without directly saying it in case I embarrassed myself but... yeahhh I have a tiny crush, I think you made us soul tied or something." you just 'tut' at his remark but your face goes bright red at his confession, cheeks hurting from how much you're smiling.

"I'm touched. Got thee famous playboy hwang Hyunjin to like like me, not sure if it's a surprise but I like you too." You kiss his cheek before leading him to the couch as you sit on it, him flopping next to you. "Enough of the soppy talk for now or I'll get embarrassed, you can choose a movie while I get us a blanket." He just nods & you hand him the box of chocolates & he begins opening them as you scurry to your room to get your favourite fluffy blankets.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ::✼✿　　✿✼:ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You both end up watching a recommended Netflix romcom suggestion, both of you devouring your chocolates but you pay no mind to it.

Some point throughout, your legs end up swung over his as your head lays against his shoulder, him stroking your hair with one hand as the other hand caresses your thigh.

Every few minutes or so, you focus less on the movie & more on his touch as his hand slowly rises up your leg, then your thigh & his hand is now grazing against your inner thigh over your tight shorts, giving you goosebumps, which he doesn't miss.

This continues up until Hyunjin repositions himself, pushing your legs off him so he can lay down over your thighs, his view now sideways of the TV, not that he cares, not paying the slightest bit of attention anyway as you momentarily tense up beneath him.

You continue stroking his hair, sometimes digging your fingers into his scalp a bit to scratch it, making him let out a satisfied hum. You can't help but keep looking down at the beautiful man laying on you & you can't help but smile to yourself.

As if he can feel your eyes burning into his skull, he moves the blanket down your legs enough to expose your legs enough for him to begin planting little pecks on them, slightly tickilish but you don't miss the wetness now pooling under your shorts. "Stop teasing Hyune." you speak up, your voice quiet & he just chuckles.

"If you don't want me to tease, I won't complain if you lay back." he replies, not bothering to look up at you as his hand reaches to squeeze your thigh softly as he keeps giving your legs kisses, suckling at them slightly,

You think about what he says & you would be stupid to deny the chance, your pussy clenching around nothing. You lightly push his head up off you & he takes the hint, moving & you push the side of his arm, towards the edge of the couch & he looks at you slightly confused but does what he thinks you're hinting at, getting onto the floor right in front of you, looking up at you with his pretty eyes.

You give him a shy smile before you take it upon yourself to wriggle your shorts & underwear off, leaving your bottom half completely nude, biting your lip in anticipation.

"You really got this desperate since last time I saw you?" he teases & you put your hand in front of your cunt, covering it with how shy you've just started feeling but he is quick to pull it back off, looking at the small shimmer on your middle finger before licking it off in one go.

"Don't be shy, gorgeous. I've been just as desperate if not more, can I get a taste?" he says in a sweet voice, not looking away from you, stars in his eyes. "Please.. If you want to." you respond, hiding your face in your hands but he reaches up & swats your hands away yet again as his other hand begins to slowly drag through your folds, making your hips buck.

"Stop hiding, where's your confidence gone hmm? Do I make you that nervous? trust me, there's nothing I want more." he leans in & kisses right next to your lip before smirking at you & sinking back down onto the floor, blowing cold air onto your now soaking cunt, making your legs tense up & he tongues his cheek as he watches your face twitch.

He spreads your folds open, getting a better view of your hole, clenching around nothing before he licks a long, slow strip from your hole to the top of your clit, letting out a low groan in the process. "Taste better than anything y/n, I fucking swear." he says as he looks up at you for a split second. "eyes on me, if you look away I'll stop." he voices before digging in.

You do as he says & make eye contact with him as his mouth latches onto your cunt as he begins letting spit roll off his tongue, mixing with your juices just before slurping it back up, not afraid to make as much noise as the mixes of juices allow.

You weave your hand in his hair & play with his hair & scratch his scalp for him as he suctions his tongue onto your swollen button, both of you groaning at the same time.

"Hyune, so good" you whimper out, your breath shaky as your eyes struggle to stay open & you feel Hyunjin smile against you. He brings his fingers up to your clit before rubbing it in a steady rhythm as he lets go of before his tongue find its way into your opening before beginning to tongue fuck you & you throw your head back, your moans now louder than the TV still playing behind the both of you, your legs now closing around his head, not that he pays attention to that anyway, if anything he is enjoying it.

You begin to clench around his tongue which he remembers is your tell tail sign you're about to orgasm, your moans getting higher pitched & your grip on his hair getting tighter & he chooses to worm his tongue out of your hole before pinching your clit between his two fingers & dropping a glob of spit to it before giving it one more lick, smirking.

"I wanna try something I think you might like, turn over so you're facing your back to me, hunny." You huff at the beginning of a future orgasm beginning to appear suddenly bubbling away but you do as he says, slightly confused.

You get up on your knees & rest your elbows on the back of the couch, you now looking at the wall behind you. "Why am I fac-" you're cut off as Hyunjin spreads your cheeks & begins fondling them as he begins suckling on your pussy from behind, letting out a satisfied hum behind you as you begin kneading the couch until your fingers begin to ache, biting your lip to try hold back moans.

"G-gonna cum Hyunjin, keep g-going." you whimper, pushing yourself into his face, seeking even more from him if it's even possible & he gives you a quick slap on your ass as he removes himself from your cunt again, much to his own displeasure.

"Don't bite your lip y/nnie, I wanna hear you fully, Mkay?" he speaks from behind you as you yelp at the impact & he hums as he keeps kneading your ass, giving it a few kisses. "Your ass is to die for, you know that? Gonna taste it." Before you can even process what he says, your mind too full of lust to understand, he is letting a glob of spit fall past his lips & it landing right on your tightest hole.

You try jerk your hips away from him but he is quicker & pulls you back to him, keeping a tighter grip on your ass, keeping it spread as his tongue begins to graze over your pretty pucker, his eyes scrunching together as he smiles against you, tongue now drawing patterns on it as he lets go of one of your ass cheeks, going down to your leaking cunt again before entering two fingers, instantly finding the same G-spot that made you orgasm only a week or so ago.

Your hips buck at the new sensation & you let out a long mewl, letting your face fall onto the back of the couch as your knuckles turn white from how hard you're clenching on it.

Your pretty hole is clenching & pulsating on his tongue as he lets out a deep growl at your taste, so different compared to your cunt but still enjoyable, you're moans getting to an even higher pitch as his tongue enter inside you, swirling around as much as the tight ring will allow.

"Hyun- please l-let me cum, s-so- fuck!" you basically scream out, not even being able to find the strength to lift your head up to look at the man behind you as your pussy & ass clench around his fingers & tongue but right before you cum, Hyunjin pulls completely away, again & your legs shake from the painful pleasure of yet another stolen orgasm.

Hyunjin leans over so his clothed chest is touching your back & he tilts your head so he can see your pretty face & he sees your now tear soaked cheeks & your pretty, glossy eyes.

"Awww, pretty girl couldn't contain their tears, could you? I promise you can cum now, I don't have a condom on me though beautiful so do you just want my fingers hmm? or my tongue?" he questions as he strokes your now damp hair out of your face, pouting at you.

"J-just fuck me Hyune, j-just pull out." you whiimper back to him, your breath so unstable it's difficult to even push the words out. Hyunjin opens his mouth to re ask you, just to make sure he is hearing things right but you wiggle your naked ass against him & he bucks his hips before just nodding before kissing your shoulder & then shimmying his pants & underwear down, freeing his pretty cock.

He spits onto his cock, pumping it into his hand a few times, letting out a hushed groan before he aligns his tip with your pussy, rubbing himself against it a few times to coat his tip in your juices before prodding his tip against your hole, before pushing just the tip inside.

"I'm still gonna be gentle, it's only your second time, tell me if this position is uncomfortable." he speaks behind you & as you mumble out an 'okay' while your face now being mushed against the cushion again, he pushes his hips forward very slowly until he buries himself to the hilt, you both letting out a moan in unison.

He stills inside you, trying to not cum instantly from how hot your walls feel without the restriction of the condom he wore last time, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he waits for your signal to continue.

Your breath staggers as he pushes forward, the stretch being a bit painful but no way near as painful as last time & after a minute or so, you push yourself on his cock experimentally, making you both hiss.

"You- please move, mak-make me cum Hyune, p-please." you elongate the last word, turning your head to the side so he can actually hear you. He takes a deep breath & pulls out half way before pushing back in, the both of you letting out a whine as his balls slap against your clit, making it even more intense for you.

Hyunjin sets a steady rhythm, lightly using the tips of his finger nails to add sensation to your back, tickling it but also feeling nice as you know it will leave those pretty little red marks later on. Both of your moans & whines fill the small apartment, not even thinking about how your neighbours can one hundred percent hear you.

"Y/n yo-you're too tight, s-so warm." he breathes out, lifting his leg & standing it on the couch for a better angle as he keeps rutting into you, leaning over your back again to kiss your cheek, your moans going straight into his ears.

"To- so big hy-hyune, pleas-e lemme c-cum." you whimper, your eyes scrunching closed, the ends of Hyunjins hair tickling your face as he begins to nibble on your earlobe, your cunt clenching impossibly tight around his cock, almost suffocating it.

"c-cum with me baby, h-hold on for me." he groan back as he tilts his neck into an uncomfortable position just so he can kiss your lips. His tongue instantly enters your mouth & you suckle on it, tasting the remaining taste of your juices from what he hasn't already repeatedly swallowed, making you moan in content.

Hyunjin speeds up his pace slightly & your G-spot loves this, making your legs almost give out on the spot as your brain turns into mush. "I-in my s-stomach Hyun-deep." you babble out against his lips, barely even knowing your own name at this point.

As Hyunjin stands back upright after giving your shoulder a few pecks, his phone begins to ring. Your eyes spot his phone on the other end of the couch, where he was sitting earlier but he reaches over & declines it before shutting his phone completely off, throwing it to the side, his pace not slowing once.

You don't bother questioning it, instead focusing on the noises of your slick & his balls connecting together mixed with the sweat of the both of you, sloppy clapping noises of your skin connecting filling the room, your legs begin to give out as Hyunjin worms his fingers down to your clit yet again before rubbing it frantically.

"In your s-stomach hmm? You can cum for me angel, n-not gonna last, too w-wet n tight." he squabbles, breathing frantically & this i all you need to hear as your entire body tenses up as finally, your orgasm hits you like a brick wall & you let out a squeal & Hyunjin has to grip onto your hips as his life depend on it in order for you to not flop & slip off the couch.

Your noises & the way your pussy flutters around him is just too much for him to handle & as much as he doesn't want to, he pulls himself out of your wet, hot walls as his cum spurts down your ass & back, throwing his head back as his cock quite literally pulsates as his balls empty, a high pitched whimper leaving his lips, breathing staggered.

He comes back to his body quicker than you do & he helps reposition you so you're fully laying on the couch, trying to make sure his cum doesn't get onto any other surface.

He grabs his underwear & wipes the cum off your back in a comfortable silence, slightly twitching as he wipes it off. He leans over your back again before kissing your earlobe. "Did so well, so proud of you, still so pretty for me despite being sticky with sweat." you both weakly laugh as you turn onto your back before using the ounce of strength you have left to pull on his wrist.

"cuddle." is all you say as you pull on him until he lays on top of you, half his weight dangling off the arm of the couch as he lays his head on your chest, listening to your still racing heartbeat & he can't help but feel secure.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ::✼✿　　✿✼:ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You both sit like this for a while, talking to one another about what you both spoke about in a bit more detail & also just talk to each other about things you don't know about one another, things like family pets, favourite colours, favourite brands etc.

Hyunjin ends up powering his phone back on & you are both just scrolling through his for you page, when you remember his phone ringing. "Quick question hyune, who was it that called you? If it was important you coulda stopped to answer." you ask him, not lifting your eyes from the video playing on his phone screen, not really thinking too much of it.

"Don't stress it, it was just someone I'm not gonna be speaking to anymore." he replies in s tired voice, still scrolling. His reply slightly confusing you. "Who? I don't mean to be nosey or anything but now i'm curious." you respond back, your fingers in his hair now pausing.

Without saying anything, he switches apps, onto his call log & it's Lisas name at the top.. nineteen missed calls. He just sighs as he presses on the 'more' option before deleting her number & deleting the Imessage conversation without even bothering to read her spam of texts, yelling, crying & cussing him out before switching apps back onto tiktok without saying a word & you just blush, your hands cupping his cheeks from above, your thumbs just below his eyes.

"You're cute." you say as you squeeze them playfully & he just 'tut's but still, he melts himself into your touch.

I'm not completely sure if I want to leave this story as a two parter orrrrrr do a third n final part but to everyone wanting a happier ending here you all are!

Tags: @troublemaker02 @ismokeeweed @lmhcats @isagerada @tsunderelino

[p0ckykiss]

prank gone wrong - nishimura riki

summary -> ni-ki's silly april fool's prank sends you to the hospital

-> established relationship

the prank had gone too far.

in retrospect, niki should probably have checked everything before messing around with the food.

as a result, you had to be taken to the hospital due to food poisoning and niki feels horrible now. it turns out that some of the ingredients niki used were past their due date for months and, although they smelled just fine, they were not supposed to be eaten at all.

and you, being you, didn’t check and just wolfed down what was given to you. niki’s plan for his april fool’s prank was just mixing up something that tasted bad but looked like it was good. he didn’t try it though and you ate the whole thing, saying it was not bad at all, have you been practicing? with a smile on your lips.

the result was disastrous. your friend had taken you to the hospital himself - and has just now asked niki to stay and keep you company.

as it seems, you had fallen asleep due to the nausea medicine you were given, and the doctor said you could leave as soon as you wake up since you’re all good now but it’s taking longer than expected.

“i’ll just get a taxi to the company,” he says to niki and gives him the car keys. “you drive back safely and let me know when you make it there.”

he only nods and hope the face he’s making is a thankful one because he had panicked when you suddenly stood up from the couch and ran to the bathroom ten minutes after eating the “food” he made and your friend had to step in and take the reins.

“thanks,” niki finally mumbles something but he is already gone.

niki is sitting down on a bench that’s not so far from the room you are sleeping in right now. he would’ve gone in, but he sent your friend instead. it was a shared room and only one visitor per patient was allowed, niki didn’t want to face you yet.

now he’s the one in charge and, although he wants to stall their reunion, niki stands up and takes slow steps until he’s standing in front of the door.

the nurses are taking care of the patient on the end of the room and you are still sound asleep, chest heaving up and down calmly and niki sighs in relief.

no one pays him attention and he shyly sits down on the stool placed right by your bed.

niki stares at the hand sliding down the mattress and is about to reach out when you pull it back under the bedsheets.

niki looks up to glance at your peaceful sleeping face but is met with a glare.

“were you trying to kill me?” you ask, eyes still trained on niki’s face.

“why would I try to kill you?” he stutters back at you, nervously rubbing his hands together. “i’d never do that.”

you huff.

“you were eagerly offering me what you made,” you explain and niki sighs at least twice before covering his face with both hands. “i thought you were trying to get rid of me.”

“it was supposed to be a harmless prank,” niki whispers and doesn’t dare look you in the eye. “i didn’t know the food was not good anymore and it was not aimed at you. my plan was giving it to the first person who showed up in the kitchen, it just happened to be you.”

“so it was not a targeted attack on me?” you whisper and niki looks up when he hears soft laughter. “i won’t hold it against you then.”

“i’m really sorry,” niki pouts and jumps up when he sees you are sitting up. he tries to help you up and gets his hands slapped away.

you glare at him.

“it was just food poisoning”

you leave the bed and fold the bedsheets, niki watches in silence. “it’s not like you ran over me with a car. i can walk and do things by myself just fine. i’m fine now but you’re lucky i’m not too mad right now.”

oh god, if you were bedridden because of that, niki would not hear the end of it.

in amidst his thinking, you leave niki for a second to ask something to a nurse who’s in the room and come back quickly.

“she said we can leave and that I’m dismissed,” you say solemnly, gathering your belongings that were on the small table by the bed and urging niki out of the room. “i just need to hand this clipboard at the front desk before we exit the hospital.”

you wave said clipboard in front of niki’s eyes and takes large steps out of the room and towards the front desk. you were on the ground floor, so everything was done fast, with niki only watching as you do all the talking with the staff.

“how are we going back to the apartment?” you ask as soon as you both are out of the hospital. the wind that hits your faces is cold and niki is reminded that although winter has ended, the chilly weather still remains and he shivers, buttoning his overcoat up. he turns to look at you and feels terrible because you only have a thin sweater on since you left the dorms in a rush, there was no time or space to think about grabbing a jacket for you.

without thinking, niki unbuttons his overcoat and hands it to you and earns himself a funny look from you.

“what are you doing?” you ask, brow raised, and lips pressed together in a straight line.

“trying to be a nice boyfriend after almost killing you,” niki mutters, shoving the overcoat in your hands. “your friend left us with the car but it’s parked a little far,” he starts walking in the direction he remembers it is.

they walk in silence and niki smiles to himself when he sees you have decided to wear his warm overcoat, the sky blue one he loves the most.

the car is parked five blocks from where they were and niki is rubbing his hands against his arms when they finally reach it, teeth clattering and shivering with his whole body.

“you’re an idiot,” you say before entering the vehicle, claiming the passenger’s seat.

“i’m an idiot,” niki confirms once he’s inside the car as well, sighing in relief at the lack of the cold wind but still trying to warm himself up. “are you hungry?”

you hum and put a hand under your chin.

“are you going to cook for me again? because if so, then i don’t think i’m hungry,” you say and laugh at your own words.

niki is sure his ears are red now, he feels them burning hot, but he can’t blame you for joking like that. “but if you’re going to buy something on our way to the apartment and if you’re paying, then I am hungry.”

niki sighs for the nth time and you stifle a laugh.

“are you paying or not?” you say, reaching out to hold niki’s hand that’s frozen on the steering wheel. “do you need me to drive or something?”

“you don’t even have a driver’s license,” niki replies alarmed and turns to give you a look.

“that was a trick question to make sure you’re here with me and not somewhere in your own head,” you tell niki and squeeze his hand with a smile on your lips. the smile comforts niki who was still tense, thinking about the whole incident with regret. “i hope you’re not feeling too bad about what happened.”

“i am feeling bad but,” niki laughs and finally starts the car, turning the heating on maximum and already thinking of where he can stop by for food. “i’m also feeling scared and a little threatened. please don’t get back at me for attempting to prank you.”

you burst out laughing and niki turns to look at you, a shiver runs down his spine. you have a mischievous glint in your eyes, something is brewing in that ingenious brain of yours and all niki knows is that he’s screwed.

[kaiser1ns]

#. HUG ME ? BRING IT IN !

featuring 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. kaji ren, takiishi chika, togame jo, umemiya hajime, endo yamato

fluff. you were supposed to give all of your attention to him, rather than hugging the cute stuffed toy.

KAJI REN

Before getting a boyfriend, you had no problem falling asleep alone. It was you, the blanket, and the cute stuffed plushie who kept you company. But after you started dating and having sleepovers with Kaji Ren, you realized how you couldn't sleep without hugging something. First, it was one plushie, then two, then three, and you begged for a fourth, a fifth—the saga never-ending. Most were gifts from him, and that's why you held them so close to your heart, hugging them when you couldn't hug your boyfriend.

It was early afternoon when Kaji decided to stop by your place just to see you. Your mother greeted him, telling him you were in your room. When he reached your safe haven, he was left dumbfounded. There you were, hugging that damn pink bunny. Its left triangle eyebrow was thick while the right was thin—he hated it. It was like the plushie was mocking him, telling him it got you first.

Kaji frowned, clicking his tongue as he removed his headphones, placing them on the desk where your pictures were framed and … Why do you have a picture with the stuffed toy?

If you weren't asleep right now, you'd laugh at him for being so silly, but also so cute with his dark gray eyes intensely watching the plushie, and his pouty lips just waiting to be kissed. Acting on impulse once again, Kaji removed the pink bunny from your arms, threw it on the ground, and left your arms empty. He watched you breathe calmly, your chest rising and falling.

When he bent down to lay next to you, you snapped your eyes open and screamed, making him flinch and fall out of the bed, landing next to the plushie that seemed to mock him once more.

"Ren?" you said, sleepily peering over the edge of the bed.

He groaned, sitting up and glaring at the pink bunny. "Why do you always choose this thing over me?" You laughed softly, reaching out to help him up. "I didn't choose it over you. It's just... sometimes I need something to cuddle with when you're not here."

He sighed, sitting on the bed and pulling you into his arms. You smiled, resting your head on his chest. This time he needed something to hug to make him calm down. Nothing could get in the way of this moment, so peaceful and beautiful, with no worries, just him and you.

“I also ordered new plushies.” He thinks you should have stayed asleep because if he hears the word plushie one more time, he will go crazy. "For us to match when you can't fall asleep when I'm not with you.” That was, his breaking point, but it's okay because he is crazy in love with you despite your plushie obsession, but he won't tell you how much money he spent on limited edition stuffed toys for your upcoming birthday. Some things are better kept hidden, but a soft smile made its way visible on his face, betraying the mask of his annoyance.

TAKIISHI CHIKA

It was getting late and you still waited for your boyfriend to visit, after he said he would, but he probably got in another fight to pass the time. You loved him but sometimes you thought he loved fights more than you, in some way he did, but that didn't stop when Takiishi fought his way to you with the many plushies you owned when he got to your apartment and saw you asleep on the couch, hugging the stuffed lion plushie.

He remembered how you couldn’t stop looking at the stand with stuffed toys at the fair, and how, after much begging, he won it for you. You had laughed and said it looked just like him — your mini Takiishi. The big and fierce predator is just one little cute kitten. But there could only be one Takiishi Chika in your life.

He wishes he was as soft and squishy as it, hinting that he wants more physical affection. Since you started dating, he found himself wanting to be closer to you, to feel your warmth, and to know that you were always by his side. It was a vulnerability he wasn't used to, and it often led him to seek extra hugs and kisses for reassurance.

As if sensing his thoughts, you stirred awake, blinking sleepily up at him. A soft smile spread across your face, and you reached out for him with one hand, the other still holding onto the toy. "Baby, you are here." Your voice was a soothing melody in the quiet room.

Chika reached down, his larger hand gently pulling you up. The toy slipped from your grasp as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, hugging him just as you had hugged the stuffed lion moments before. Your fingers tangled in his long hair, and he couldn't help but sigh, feeling your warmth against him.

"You were hugging that thing," he murmured, in a calm soothing voice, though the jealousy was still there. You chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to his neck. "Well, it reminds me of you. But nothing compares to the real deal." Your words were a balm to his insecurities, and he held you tighter, burying his face in your hair.

"Is that so?" he asked, his breath warm against your ear. You nodded, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes, his hands holding your legs more firmly.

"Absolutely. The plushie is cute, but it can't hold me like you do." You smiled, tracing your fingers along his jawline. He relaxed, but at the same time wanted to pull away from the affection. You laughed softly, leaning in to capture his lips in a gentle kiss. "Just so you know, you're my favorite."

But instead he pulled you into a deeper embrace, you felt the tension in his muscles ease. You knew he’d fight the world to be with you, but right now, all he needed was the reassurance of your love. And you were more than happy to give it to him.

TOGAME JO

Togame was enjoying his time listening to you tell the latest gossip as you moved around the room, his eyes following your every step. He sat on the edge of your bed, a tender smile playing on his lips as you recounted the latest drama among your friends. In your hands, you clutched a cute turtle plushie, and the sight of you so animated and engaged made his heart swell.

"And then you won't believe what she said, Kame-chan!" you exclaimed, pulling the plushie close to your face as if it could somehow share in your excitement.

Togame’s smile widened, and he couldn’t resist answering, his voice soft yet teasing. "What did she say, love?"

You froze, a look of confusion crossing your features as you turned to face him. "Wait, I thought you left?" you asked, your brow furrowing slightly as you tried to recall when you last saw him heading out for some business.

His eyes twinkled as he leaned back slightly, making himself more comfortable on the bed. "Why would I?" he responded, feigning innocence. His gaze flickered to the plushie in your hands, and he chuckled softly. "Besides, how could I miss out on hearing what she said?"

Your eyes widened as you realized what had happened. "Oh my gosh, you heard that?" A blush crept up your cheeks, and you hugged the plushie tighter, as if it could somehow shield you from the embarrassment.

Togame stood up and walked over to you, gently taking the turtle plushie from your hands and examining it with a mock-serious expression. "So, this is Kame-chan, huh? You named him after me?"

You nodded shyly, face in your hands to hide your red face. "I thought it was cute."

He chuckled, placing the plushie back into your hands before pulling you by the waist sitting on the bed again, as he sat you on his lap, wrapping his arms around your body. "I'm flattered, really," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "But you know, the real Togame is right here, and he loves you just as much as Kame-chan does."

UMEMIYA HAJIME

You clutch the Cinnamoroll plushie tightly, its soft fur pressing against your cheek as you glance at Umemiya. The plushie, a recent gift from him, has quickly become your favorite, and you can't stop talking about how much it reminds you of him. The white hair, the blue eyes, the insatiable appetite, and that pure-hearted nature—Cinnamoroll is practically Umemiya's spirit animal. Every time you hug it, you feel a rush of warmth, as if you're holding a little piece of him close to your heart.

"Isn't it just the cutest?" you gush for the umpteenth time, eyes shining with joy. "It's just like you, Hajime! Always happy, always there when someone needs you. If you were an animal, you'd definitely be a puppy, just like Cinnamoroll."

Umemiya gives you a small smile, but there's something behind it, a hint of something you can't quite place. As the day goes on, you notice he seems quieter than usual. You catch him glancing at you and the plushie with a look that almost seems…jealous? It was rare to see him looking anything other than cheerful, and it tugged at your heartstrings.

Finally, during a quiet moment on your date, you catch him pouting slightly. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you ask, "Hajime, what's wrong? You've been a bit off today."

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, looking slightly embarrassed. "It's just…you've been hugging that plushie all day, and I haven't gotten a single hug."

You blink in surprise, then burst into laughter, feeling a bit guilty. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry! I didn't realize." Setting Cinnamoroll down gently, you step forward and wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. "You know you're the best, right? Not even the cutest plushie could ever replace you."

He relaxes into your embrace, a contented smile spreading across his face. "I guess I can share you with Cinnamoroll," he murmurs, hugging you back even tighter. You chuckle softly, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "As long as I still get my daily doze of your love."

ENDO YAMATO

The night was perfect for a cozy movie date, as you had planned it for weeks, and now you were finally together, nestled on the couch. "Face mask time!" you announced with a playful grin, holding up two colorful packets. Endo raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest, instead he just smiled with that charming smile of his and leaned back, letting you apply the mask on his face. You took your time, smoothing the cool gel over his skin, "Mmm, it feels nice." he murmured, eyes closed in relaxation.

As the movie continued, you snuggled up with your favorite dinosaur plushie, he, however, didn't like the fact that you hadn't snuggled into him. With a quick move, he grabbed the plushie out of your arms and got up. "Yamato!" you protested, pouting playfully, as the tattooed boy held the plushie high above his head, his height giving him an unfair advantage. But you were smarter, as you stepped on his foot, gently without as much power, catching him off guard. He wobbled, just enough for you to grab your plushie back.

He chuckled, pulling you close again. "Alright, alright, you win," he said, his voice warm and teasing. You nestled back into his side, plushie securely in your arms, feeling his arm wrap around you protectively. "Thought you would have made me go extinct like this little guy with that stomp of yours." he teased, as you rested your head against his shoulder. "I guess you'll have to share me with the dino."

Endo sighed dramatically, but his eyes were soft as he looked at you, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. "As long as I get most of the snuggles~"

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[railingsofsorrow]

nothing's gonna hurt you, baby

[jj maybank x reader]

summary: “you don't have to worry about me.” your voice is muffled but he can hear it well. the way his fingertips graze against your back under your shirt almost puts you to sleep right then.  “'course I do.” jj pokes your waist, tone bordering on indignant. “you're my girl, why wouldn't I worry about you?” pairing: jj maybank x f!reader w.c: 1.2k warnings/content: child abuse (implied); description of wounds, blood and violence; hurt/comfort.

A/N: in honor of obx 4, here's a jj maybank hurt/comfort blurb. just fyi, he's alive and happy and he ran off to yucatan in the show, that shitty ending they wrote did not fucking happened. anyways, enjoy my silly writing.

navi

masterpost

obx masterlist

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“ow!” you hissed, leaning away as your forehead stung as soon as the antiseptic made contact with the wound. “it stings.” you provided helplessly, lips tugging downwards. 

watching as jj's mouth quirked up slightly, you glared at him. he looked away to grab another gauze, unaffected by your dramatic behavior. not so dramatic because the cut was fresh so in your defense you had every right to react that way. 

“it's supposed to sting, means it's working.”

you hold back a complaint as he presses the gauze near the cut again. his blue eyes attentively stare back at you, he waits for your whining but it doesn't come.

“so you mean I'm supposed to enjoy pain because it's good for me? it's like we're all condemned to the same fate, aren't we?”

“my pretty little philosopher or whatever,” jj tutted, pressing a kiss to your temple before he stood up to throw the used materials away. the couch was comfortable as you adjusted your body to lay back down, making sure not to turn on your side so jj's job wouldn't go to waste. “should I call pope here? cause I'm not gonna be able to keep up with your existence theories.”

“existencial.”

“yeah, that.” you let out a hum in appreciation as he ran his fingers across your ankles, the coldness of his rings grazing against your skin. that will definitely help you fall asleep. silence stretched on for a few minutes and the room was enveloped with you and jj basking in each other's presence. 

until, well… until he broke it.

“how did you get this?”

“told you, cabinet door.”

“right, which one was it this time? kitchen or bathroom?” 

you felt like a little kid being caught doing what you weren't supposed to be doing. by his tone, you already knew he was onto your lie but you stayed silent, forcing your face to be blank of any emotion. 

jj had caught you with bruises before. the keyword being caught because you'd never willingly show it to him. he already had too much on his plate to deal with, he didn't need you to add to it. 

it wasn't the first time, thus his little gentle jab at your lie.

“cuddle me.” you requested — more like ordered — an outstretched hand in his direction as you ignored his previous question with grace and not all in an unsubtle way. “jayj”

your boyfriend engulfed you in his warmth, arms wrapping around your middle as you settled in his chest, cheek resting against the soft fabric of his jumper.

“you don't have to worry about me.” your voice is muffled but he can hear it well. the way his fingertips graze against your back under your shirt almost puts you to sleep right then. 

“'course I do.” jj pokes your waist, tone bordering on indignant. “you're my girl, why wouldn't I worry about you?”

“your girl?” you placed your chin on the back of your hand, licking your lips contemplatively. “a bit possessive, isn't it?”

something itched in your chest upon noticing the small dimple on his left cheek when he gave you that charming disarming smile of his. “you think so?” he uttered, hands intertwining behind your back as he shrugged when his face twitched in amusement. “but you are, aren't you?”

“am I?” you pretended to be clueless. “not sure... hey.” you squirmed when he threatened to tickle you.

“hey.” he mocked with a slightly annoying voice, warning a slap on his chest. jj let out a deep chuckle. “stop, stop. okay.” he held your hands, lifting your knuckles to his lips so he could kiss them, blue eyes glinting with mischief staring you down. that glint soon tuned down to something serious, it was when you knew he was about to initiate a topic you wanted to run away from.

you were cornered.

jj's thumb touched your cheek, there was also a small yellowish bruise beginning to heal near your cheekbone, besides the cut in your forehead, which was what concerned him more. 

this one is older, he observed the bruise, caressing the spot ever so gently as if you were made of glass. you shouldn't have bruises or cuts or anything that gives you pain. 

“jayj, it's fine—”

“is it bad?” 

you know what his words mean and that proved he didn't believe in your lies. why would he? he went through the same on a daily basis before his dad took off god knows where. you honestly hope he never comes back because if luke maybank ever thinks of laying a hand on jj again, you'd bury him alive. 

but anyway, you admitted the truth, laying out what truly was going on inside your house.

“just when she gets mad.” you offered, looking back at your hands curling together. “really, it's fine, don't worry about me.”

his forehead creases and you think he's about to order you to shut up but instead he squeezes your hand. anger is never his go-to emotion with you.

“I worry, always. can you tell me how this one happened? it's deeper.” he asked, touching the spot in your forehead beside the cut he had cleaned up. 

your eyes followed his carefully but your body was relaxed as it never had been whenever you talked about that subject. 

“I, um... I dodged her slap. kind of. I ducked down— or tried to.” you winced at your explanation and at the memory. “anyways, the cut was because of her ring.”

his jaw clenched but his touch never shifted to anything other than delicate. 

“i'm sorry.”

“don’t be.” you said, smiling up at him. “it’s not your fault, but thanks.”

“you shouldn't be used to this.” jj said firmly, brushing a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, his gaze far away. “you can come stay at the chateau if you want, you know? we always have space.”

“thank you for caring, but I'll be fine.”

“I know.” he shrugged. “but I mean, when you're not, you have a place to run to. you have me.” 

and yes, you knew that, technically. but your fucked brain thought if you shared your home life with him, this would make you a burden, you never ever wanted that. you didn't want him to get tired of you and realize he was better off with someone else who wasn't so complicated.

“I know I have you.”

“do you?”

“I love you.” you offered as if that was supposed to be a strong argument.

jj raised a brow. “I love you too and that's why I want you to open up to me.” he explained gently, thumb running against your cheek. “call me. find me. I'll be there. I'll find you wherever you are, alright?” 

you hummed, agreeing with him in his request. a smile gracing your lips. “okay.”

he shifted in bed, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “if it depends on me, nothing’s gonna hurt you,” he mumbled against your forehead as you wrapped an arm around his middle and basked in his warmth.

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taglist: @hoeshissworld 

[ponderingmoonlight]

Geto being forced to kiss you during a mission but shamelessly making out with you instead

Pairing: Geto x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,8k

Synopsis: It was an easy mission like many others before. Get in, find the suspect, free the innocent. Well, if it wasn't for none other than Geto Suguru who has to play your boyfriend. If it wasn't for that fateful situation that forces you into a heated kiss.

Warnings: I swear this is a dream I had tonight and I HAD to write it down with Geto being the main character lol, no smut but it's getting a little heated y'all, enjoy

You’ve been assigned to many missions before, but this one is different. It’s not the mission itself - that’s pretty standard. Blend in, gather the information needed, free their hostages and get out. No, what makes this different is who you’re paired with.

Geto Suguru.

It’s not that you dislike Suguru. Quite the opposite, really. He’s intelligent, powerful, and intimidatingly good-looking. To be honest, you didn’t really get the chance to talk a lot with him. You’ve met him a few months ago at a party, innocently meeting his gaze for the first time. Since then, you wrote a few messages back on forth without him really kicking off a conversation with you himself.

Working so closely with him? That’s a whole different challenge.

You glance over at him as the two of you walk down a crowded street, playing the part of casual tourists. He’s dressed casually, his black hair tied up in its usual bun, dark sunglasses resting on his face. His tall frame and handsome face draw some attention, but not enough to arouse suspicion. Still, you’re hyper-aware of his presence, every step synchronized with his, every breath you take feels too loud beside him.

“You alright?” Suguru questions, his voice smooth as ever, but there’s a hint of amusement hidden behind it.

You realize you’ve been staring a little too long. Again.

“Yeah, fine,” you reply, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Just focused.”

“Good,” he comments, his lips curving into a faint smile.

“We can’t afford any distractions today.”

It’s funny he should say that, given that he’s been the biggest distraction for you all day.

The two of you are currently undercover in the heart of Tokyo, tasked with infiltrating a high-profile gathering where some curses are believed to be in league with a dangerous rogue sorcerer. You’re supposed to act like a couple - just a pair of normal people attending a party, gathering information without raising any alarms. Simple enough.

Except pretending to be a couple with Geto Suguru isn’t as easy as it sounds.

The party venue is just up ahead, a high-end rooftop lounge that glows with expensive lights and laughter spilling out into the cool evening air. You take a deep breath, adjusting the strap of your dress as you try to mentally prepare yourself for what’s coming. You’ve done plenty of undercover work before, but never one so… intimate.

As if sensing your tension, Suguru places a hand lightly on the small of your back, guiding you toward the entrance. The touch sends a jolt through you, far too electrifying for something so casual. You hope he doesn’t notice the silly reaction of your body, how his touch alone sends shivers down your spine.

“We’ll get in, blend, and be out of here before anyone knows we’re even involved,” he murmurs, his voice so close to your ear it sends another shiver down your spine.

“Just stay close to me.”

You nod, your pulse quickening despite yourself.

“Got it.”

The two of you approach the entrance, and after a quick flash of the fake invitations, you’re in. The lounge is just as extravagant as you expected: soft golden lights, chandeliers glinting like diamonds, and elegantly dressed people sipping on expensive drinks.

The air is thick with the scent of alcohol and perfume, a faint buzz of conversation filling the room. You can feel the tension already, a subtle undercurrent that tells you something’s off. The rogue sorcerer could be anywhere in the crowd, and the curses could be anyone. You can’t afford to relax for even a second.

Suguru’s hand doesn’t leave your back as he leads you through the room, guiding you with the ease of someone who’s done this a hundred times before. You find a spot near the back, close to the open bar, where you can observe without being too obvious.

“They’re here somewhere,” Suguru mumbles, his eyes scanning the crowd behind his sunglasses.

You nod in agreement, your gaze sweeping over the guests. You can feel eyes on you too, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary. Just regular party-goers glancing at the attractive couple standing together, unaware of what you and Suguru are really here for.

Just as you start to relax, a small group of men enters from a side door, catching your attention. One of them, in particular, stands out. He’s dressed sharply, his dark hair slicked back, a predatory gleam in his eyes. You don’t need to double-check him, your palms already starting to sweat.

That’s him. The rogue sorcerer. The man you’ve been searching for.

Suguru notices him too, his posture tensing slightly.

“That’s our target,” he mutters under his breath.

You nod subtly, trying to remain casual, but the moment the sorcerer’s eyes land on you and Suguru, they narrow. He recognizes something. Or maybe it’s just paranoia. Either way, the tension in the air spikes.

“He’s watching us,” you whisper, your pulse quickening.

“Act natural,” Suguru says, his voice low, steady.

He slides his arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Just follow my lead.”

Your heart pounds at the sudden closeness. His hand is warm on your waist, his body pressed against yours in a way that’s far too intimate for what should be a simple undercover mission. But you force yourself to relax, slipping into the role.

The sorcerer is still watching, his eyes flicking between the two of you with suspicion.

Suguru leans down, his lips brushing against your ear.

“We need to do something to throw him off. He’s getting suspicious.”

You swallow hard, nodding slightly. The last thing you want to do is causing a scene and risking the lives of countless innocent people.

“What do you suggest?”

There’s a pause, just long enough for you to notice the way his gaze switching back and forth between your lips and eyes. No, he can’t really mean this, right? You, kissing Suguru Geto?

But his eyes aren’t joking around. Not the slightest bit.

“We’re going to have to make this look real,” he continues, voice low and serious.

Before you can ask one more time what he means, his hand slides up to cup your cheek, turning your face toward his.

Your breath catches in your throat as he tilts your chin up, his dark eyes locking onto yours. There’s no time to question it, no time to think. His lips are on yours before you can even process what’s happening.

It’s soft at first, just a brush of his mouth against yours, gentle and controlled. It’s meant to be quick, just enough to make it seem real. But then something shifts. The pressure deepens, his hand sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

You can’t help the soft gasp that escapes you as his other hand tightens on your waist, his body pressing more firmly against yours. What started as a brief kiss to maintain your cover quickly spirals into something else entirely. The kiss grows heated, his lips moving against yours with a hunger you hadn’t expected.

Your hands move on instinct, holding onto the back of his neck as you lean into him, literally fall against him.

You should pull away. The mission. The rogue sorcerer. You can’t afford to be distracted. This is nothing but a cover-up, after all. But the kiss… it’s overwhelming. Suguru’s lips are firm, his breath hot against your skin as he deepens the kiss, coaxing a response from you that you can’t hold back.

The world around you fades. There’s no party, no rogue sorcerer, no mission. There’s just the heat between the two of you, the press of his body against yours, the way his lips seem to know exactly how to pull you under.

Your pulse races, your mind going hazy as the kiss stretches on longer than it should. There’s an urgency now, a desperation in the way his mouth moves against yours. It’s not about the mission anymore. This is something else entirely. Something raw, electric. Something you only allow yourself to dream of.

His tongue brushes against your lower lip, and without thinking, you part your lips, letting him in. The kiss becomes even more intense, your bodies pressed so close you can feel the rapid beat of his heart against yours. His hand moves from your neck, tangling in your hair as he pulls you impossibly closer, his breath mixing with yours as the kiss turns downright needy.

A soft sound escapes you, half gasp, half moan, and you feel Suguru’s grip tighten in response. He’s losing control too. The realization sends a thrill through you, the idea that Geto Suguru, the calm, composed and always in control force of a man, could be folding because of you.

But then, just as suddenly as it started, he pulls away. The kiss breaks, leaving you both breathless, your lips swollen, your heart racing.

Suguru’s chest rises and falls rapidly, his dark eyes staring into yours, wide with something unspoken. His hand lingers on your waist for a moment longer before he finally lets go, stepping back, his expression unreadable.

You blink, trying to clear the haze from your mind, trying to remember where you are, what you’re supposed to be doing, your mind desperately fighting for control while your body still griefs the cold he left behind.

The rogue sorcerer. The mission.

You quickly glance around, realizing the sorcerer is no longer watching. He must have lost interest, convinced by the display. You breathe a sigh of relief, but the tension between you and Suguru remains thick, heavy.

“That… worked,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Suguru nods, but his eyes are still on you, dark and intense.

“Yeah. It worked.”

For a moment, neither of you move, the air between you crackling with something unsaid, something neither of you is quite ready to acknowledge.

But the mission isn’t over yet. You have a job to do, and now, more than ever, you need to stay focused.

Suguru clears his throat, straightening his posture, slipping effortlessly back into his composed persona.

“We should keep moving. We still have to find out what their plan is.”

You nod, trying to steady your racing heart as you follow him through the crowd. But even as you focus on the task at hand, you can still feel the lingering heat of his kiss, the way his lips felt against yours, the way your body reacted to his touch.

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[leviraaaaaa]

Bad ideas

Bad idea.

The thought echoed in your mind as you watched him, your heart racing despite the voice of reason screaming for you to look away. Your mind was listing all the reasons why you can't, you shouldn't. Your heart ignored it all.

Bad, bad ideas.

look away look away look away

You couldn't.

Levi sat next to you on the sofa, blissfully unaware of the chaos in your head. He was casually holding a beer can in that strange way he did, fingers gripping the top edge of it.

Was it strange that you found it attractive? You wondered how mortified he would be if he knew.

You shook your head, trying to snap out of it. But it felt different. Tonight.

How had you even ended up here?

You remembered showing up at Levi’s door just a few hours earlier, a plastic bag filled with cheap alcohol in hand. Your original intention was to consume them yourself, to drown your sorrows alone, to escape the whirlwind of emotions left in the wake of the disastrous expedition of today. But for whatever reason, you had sought him out instead. Your mind was restless and you knew Levi's were too.

He would understand. He always did.

So when Levi opened the door with a scowl on his face, you'd blurted it out without thinking.

“Wanna drink with me?”

He had blinked, confused, eyeing the bag then looking back at you.

“...I don't think you're supposed to be drinking.” He said after a moment, tone blunt but not unkind.

You had shaken your head. “Trust me,” You replied. “I do. And I think you do too.”

And that had been that. After a pause, Levi let out a soft grunt of acknowledgment, stepping aside to let you in. “Couldn’t you find someone else?” he’d muttered, but he didn’t push you away.

Hours slipped by in a blur. One bottle turned into another, and you found yourself ranting about everything: Erwin’s decisions. The bloodshed. The guilt. You unleashed every ounce of anger, resentment and guilt you held in your heart, complaining to him about every single thing you could find to complain about. The more you went through the bottles and the more the night fell, the more drunk you became, the less it was starting to be actually connected to what you were here for and more about the silly concerns and irritations of something only a drunk person would care about.

Levi sat quietly through it all, never once interrupting but always present, always listening. That was the thing about Levi—he didn’t talk much, but when he did, his words meant something. And when he didn’t, it wasn’t because he wasn’t paying attention.

But now you were here.

Silence filled the room, thick and heavy. You’d stopped talking a while ago, and Levi hadn’t moved. The quiet was suffocating, and your thoughts—dangerous, forbidden thoughts—were growing louder by the second. A part of you knew that this was not where you should be.

But it felt so different.

The thoughts were getting louder. Strange thoughts. Thoughts about the man beside you, thoughts you'd usually fight against, now impossible to ignore as you struggled to find something, anything to occupy your mind and anything to deny the unwilling confessions your heart was now whispering to you.

You weren't sober. And being here, with Levi, while incapacitated was a very dangerous gamble you had made tonight.

Why were you here, really? You thought. Why Levi?

“Couldn’t you find someone else?” He had asked.

Couldn't you? Weren't there other options?

So, why were you really here?

How were you supposed tell him that you.. just wanted to be with him a little?

Levi wasn't one to let people in. So you took what you got. Groans, grumbles, those snappy little remarks, you'd take it all. If that just means you got to spend a few hours with him. But how could you tell him that?

It was an excuse, you knew. You could drink alone; you didn't need someone else. All of it was an excuse you made yourself to justify this irrational yearning to be with him for a little while. Because you knew he wouldn't turn you away, not when you were sad.

Friends, the remnants of rationality insisted. You and Levi were just friends. So you have been for many years. That's what you were. And that's why you wanted to be close to him. That's why you seeked him. Because it was a rough day. Because he's a good listener. That's what friends do.

Friends.

Are friends supposed to have thoughts you had right now? Friends, so why did your heart race the way it was?

You were losing the battle you’ve been fighting for years. Every inch of you was warning you. These were bad, bad ideas, and it could ruin everything. Everything you've worked for. Not many could call Levi Ackerman their friend. You could. That's enough. That should be enough.

But it was happening so fast. With every passing moment, the less sober you were becoming and you really, really shouldn't be here at all.

But how could you not?

You stared at him blankly. He wasn't looking at you, blankly staring somewhere in the distance. He looked relaxed. More relaxed than you've ever seen him. His usual sharp, steely eyes half-lidded, his dark hair falling messily over his forhead. There was a faint flush on his pale cheeks and there, just there you saw the barest glimpse of vulnerability. He looked so soft, so unlike the hardened soldier you've always seen him to be.

God, he was so pretty. Always.

Now that you thought of it, you think you'd fallen the first time you've met him. It was so easy to.

He was a grumpy little asshole, a storm of contradictions—sharp-tongued and distant, yet in his quiet moments, so deeply, unshakably kind. You yearned to touch him. If he'd let you. If he only let you.

But boundaries. You dared not.

Still, staring at him, drunk and dazed, you think you just might.

You just might.

"... Lev?" You whispered, the word slipping from your lips before you could stop it.

Levi stirred, coming back from his thoughts. He frowns, turning to glance at you. "Yeah?"

You swallow, your throat suddenly dry. Why did you call him? Why were you doing this?

"Levi." You repeated. Did he know how much you loved his name? He notices it, you can tell, the tremor in your voice, one you couldn’t hide. His gaze sharpens, though the confusion lingers.

"...what?"

He set the drink down, focusing entirely on you now, a hint hint of concern flickering in his usually blank expression.

“I’m going to do something, Levi,” you muttered quietly, your heart pounding in your chest. “And you can’t get mad, okay?”

Now or never. Now or never. Your heart chanted quietly. Before the liquid courage dies down.

Levi leaned back almost instinctively, looking down at you with narrowed gray eyes. “That depends,” he replied, “Are you going to throw up on me?”

"No," you answered, “No, Levi.”

But just as you leaned in closer, your breath catching in your throat, you see his expression change. His eyes widen, just a fraction, and you realize that he knows. He knows what you were about to do. You see the exact moment it hit him.

There’s no going back now.

You close the gap between you in one swift, desperate motion, pressing your lips against his. For a heartbeat, he’s frozen. You think you’ve ruined everything. But then, as if time itself stops, Levi responds. His lips part against yours, tentative but warm, and for a moment, you forget to breathe.

Because this? This was everything.

You had spent days wondering how they'd feel but you had never thought of this. His lips were so soft, so plush against yours. So warm, he was pouring liquid heat into your mouth and holy fuck Levi Ackerman was kissing you. His hands were on you—gripping your arms, pulling you in. He was kissing you like he had been waiting forever. Like it was everything he couldn't say and he needed you to understand. Like he couldn't breathe and you're the only source of air.

Levi Ackerman was kissing you.

Holy fuck.

The realization hit you like a tidal wave, and you jerked back, gasping for air. The world spun around you, the gravity of what just happened crashing down hard. You sat there for a heartbeat, pulse thundering in your ears, waiting for him to say something—anything. But he just stared at you, wide-eyed, his chest rising and falling like he’d sprinted through hell. Disbelief and confusion carved into his sharp features.

What had you done?

“I should go,” you muttered, the words barely audible, more to yourself than to him. “I'm so sorry, I should go.”

But just as you began to turn away, he stopped you with a single, rough whisper.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, you fucking coward.”

Then his lips were crashing back onto yours and you were gone.

There was no going back now.

[tallulah477]

Prove To You

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, Yandere!Neteyam, ***NON-CON***, Dub-con, Predator/Prey Kink, Chasing, Obsessive/Possessive Behavior, Oral (female receiving), Edging/Orgasm Delay, P in V, Knotting, Size Difference, Fingering, Slight Degradation (use of 'whore'), Belly Bulge, Lapdance (kinda), Creampie, Alien Genitalia, Squirting, A Few Ass Slaps, Mentions of drinking and being tipsy/drunk, Brief Violence/Violent Thoughts (not towards reader), Brief mention of pregnancy, Threat of cutting off another's kuru/neural queue, Thoughts of killing/murder, One (1) non-sexual face slap (reader slaps Neteyam)

Word Count: 9.7K 💀

A/N: Hiiiii it's been a while 🤷🏻‍♀️

Summary: It was only ever supposed to be a hookup, something fun to pass the time. But to Neteyam, it was so much more than that. He's in love with you, obsessed with you - his perfect little mate. But he doesn't know why you keep running away.

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**

Translations:

Yawne - Beloved

Tìyawn - Love

Tweng - Loincloth

Tawtute - Human

Kuru - Neural Queue

Tsaheylu - Bond, Neural Connection

Swoasey - kava bowl (constructed from seed pods, used for drinking intoxicating beverages)

Kaltxì - Hello

Pxir - Beer

Tsahìk - Spiritual Leader / Healer

Skxawng - Moron / Idiot

Iknimaya - Rite of Passage

Oel Ngati Kameie - I See You

Tanhì - Star

Muntxate - Wife, Female Spouse

Mawey - Calm

He’d only wanted to kiss you. To feel your soft lips pressed against his again. 

It had been so long since he’d gotten to feel them. The mask you have to wear is always a frustrating obstacle. He begs from time to time for you to pull it off, just for a moment, so he can press his warm lips to yours, taste your tongue on his just for a few blissful seconds before the lack of air catches up with you and you have to replace it.

You always say no, always push his hand away from where he has it cupped lovingly around the side of your head, but it never stops him from asking. 

You’re not wearing a mask now though. Instead, a long tube spans one side of your face, curling around your ear and stretching across your cheek before the very end of it forks off into your nostrils. At first glance he panicked, terrified of the thought of you out in the dangerous Pandora environment as a human without your only source of oxygen. It’s silly. He knows that you could have never made it to the village from the lab without some way of breathing. But he can’t help how he reacts, needing to be sure, needing to know that you’re okay. 

He’s at your side in an instant, kneeling in front of your tiny frame, large hands engulfing your head as his eyes searched your face in concern. You smack his hand away, answering his concerned questions of “Ma yawne, what is going on? Are you okay?” with a short “Fine. It’s the new tech the lab guys made,”

He calms, anxiety slipping from his body now that he knows you’re still safe. His eyes flicker over your face, a small smile pulling at his lips as he takes in all your beautiful features in front of him. You’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, he’s always thought that, ever since the very first moment he met you all those years ago. But now here, without the thick layer of glass covering your face, it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again. 

“You’re so pretty, tìyawn,” He whispers, fingers unconsciously reaching out again to brush against your cheek. It’s finally accessible, bare and soft under his fingertips before the dull sting of another slap knocks his hand away. 

You don’t like public displays of affection. 

Or, at least, now you don’t. 

You used to not mind it. Back before that night in front of the fire, you would touch him all the time - sweet and gentle touches when you were talking, so tactile in your interactions with him. A quick squeeze to his knee whenever he was able to make you laugh, friendly half hugs as greetings that would make his heart pound in his chest every single time, your intoxicating scent filling his lungs and suffocating him in the best way. 

He’d keep his nose buried in your neck, breathing you in until you were all he could smell or think about for the rest of eternity if he could. 

He used to carry you places when you would tag along on fun adventures with him and his siblings. Excitement coursed through him every time you agreed to join them, tail swishing eagerly behind him because he knew that eventually you would get tired from walking and allow him to carry you on his back. You like to talk, prattling on about whatever was going on at the lab or a fun new piece of tech that Norm and the others were working on. Sometimes you’d talk about the current drama - someone said you talked too much, were too abrasive, but that you thought that they personally needed to grow a backbone. He’d listen to whatever you had to say - soaking up your voice like the most melodic song and committing every detail you provide him to memory. 

But your voice has a physical response on him. But the horrified looks his siblings would send him when they would see the tent in his tewng from where his hard cock had slipped out of its sheath was always well worth the embarrassment. The feeling of your soft skin on his - arms wrapping around his neck for balance, his hands completely engulfing your warm thighs from where they wrapped tightly around his torso as far as they could. He’s spent many nights imagining them wrapped around his waist from the front instead.

You didn’t mind public displays of affection when you drank an entire swoasey of pxir and danced in front of him by the fire. The celebration had wound down, the clan members satisfied in celebrating the induction of The People who had passed their Iknimaya just a few hours ago. Only a few younger adults who seemed to have the same idea as you remained now, each couple splintering off to different parts of the campground to get their much needed privacy. Even Lo’ak has moved away, enamored by the pretty girl sitting on his lap, uncaring about the way his hands slide down to cup her ass and pull her closer. 

The fading glow of yellows and oranges look amazing against your skin, the steady crackle of the fire like a song all on its own as your hips move to the music only your own head and nature provides. Neteyam’s eyes are wide, excitement coursing through his veins as he watches your hips sway. You sway too, your body a bit unsteady from the drink still in your hand, but mostly it's your hips - the sensual swish back and forth, beads from your tewng (a gift from Kiri he suspects) clank together against each other and your thighs. Your pretty thighs, so soft he wants to wrap his entire hand around them, spread them open for him and see you like he’s always dreamed of. You’d be so wet, so sticky and drenched for him that he’d be able to just slide right in. You were made for him. Made to take him. He’d fit between your thighs so perfectly despite your size difference, he knows he would. 

His breath catches in his throat when you dance closer, small body seductive in the way it calls to him with your movements. You toss the swoasey to the side, the little liquid that was left pouring out and soaking into the ground beside you. Your hands find their way to his bent knees, heat filled eyes never leaving his as you push his legs apart so you can stand between them, searing him with their intensity even from behind the glass of your mask.

Your hands slide up his legs, tiny fingers creeping up the insides of his thighs and he can’t help the audible gulp that escapes him when he feels his cock nudge against his already wet slit, threatening to poke out at any moment. 

Great Mother, you’re so gorgeous. The most beautiful woman Eywa has ever created. You must have been created by her - no other god or goddess or being could ever have made anything more perfect and irresistible than Eywa herself. 

Surely, the Great Mother has made you for him. Just for him. 

“Why so nervous, Teyam?” You giggle, leaning up as far as you can towards his face while still keeping your teasing hands on his thighs, dangerously close to the now bulging fabric. “Tawtute got your tongue?”

“I–um–” He chokes out. He can’t breath, can’t breath with you so fucking close to him. He wants you so badly, wants to touch you so badly he feels like he might die if he doesn’t.

And then you're turning in the cage of his open thighs, back pressing against his front as you grab his shaking hand. There’s a satisfied smirk on your face as you drag his arm around you, the large appendage spanning your entire chest as he sprawls his fingers out across your front. His fingertips automatically curl around the curve of your breast while his palm caresses the other through your beaded top, his body subconsciously reacting to your own guidance. 

His heart is pounding so hard he thinks it might explode in his chest, breathing labored as his hard cock digs into your back.

“You can touch me,” You whisper, but his ears flick at your words and catch them loud and clear. “Want you to play with me.”

“Ha-fuck,” He groans, mouth falling open in silent awe as your top shifts underneath his hand and his finger grazes your hard nipple. Without thinking his hand squeezes your chest, gently but firm enough for you to gasp as he greedily gropes both breasts at once. 

He can smell you now, the mind dizzying scent of your arousal filling the air around you both as you gasp and giggle excitedly at his sudden action, both of your tiny hands reaching up to grip at his big one as you press him tighter against you. 

“Come on, Teyam,” You moan, moan, and he’s not even touching you yet. You turn your head to look at him, craning your neck as you stare up at him with wide, lust filled eyes. “Have some fun with me.”

That night he spent with you under the hypnotic glow of the fire will be forever burned into his mind. Every detail, every moan, every sigh, every praise and whine and plea spilling from your lips as he made love to you for the very first time is kept under the sacred lock and key of his heart - a memory he saved with Eywa back at the Spirit Tree the morning after so that he would never have the possibility of forgetting. 

The memory of your gasp as he pushed you down, beads flying across the mossy ground as he tore your clothes off like an animal and how the roughness of it all made your arousal even stronger. His eyes greedy as they took in their fill of your beautiful body splayed out in front of him like a prize before he covered you with his own. Your fingers teased along his bullet wound scar, tracing the raised line with careful fingers, and he thinks that maybe your loving touch will be enough to fully heal it. 

The place between your thighs feels like home, your tiny pussy swallowing him up and holding him close like the most perfect combination of love and safety. Your voice ringing in his ears, sweet and sensual as you whimper and moan telling him faster, Teyam, fuck me harder, oh god, and he whines in return, cock throbbing and embarrassingly close to bursting so fast already, and sending up thanks and prayers to the Great Mother for granting him this amazing moment with you.

It’s the blending of two hearts, two souls made for each other and coming together as one in a bond so powerful that no one can ever break it. It doesn’t matter that you don’t have a kuru, Neteyam can feel you in himself anyway - can feel you wrapping your tiny fingers around his brain and heart and very being, solidifying your bond together without the need for tsaheylu. 

And when you pull your mask off, holding your breath as the hiss of air escapes from the broken seal around your face - he can’t breathe either. The feel of your lips on his, soft and demanding as you kiss him passionately as he fucks you on the forest floor, makes him see stars.

He’s not sure where the change of behavior came from. One day you were affectionate, touchy and giving with your love, surrounding him with your scent and embrace, pussy wrapped around his cock in a hug so tight he thought you might never let go. He wouldn’t mind that, being buried in your heat forever, warm and loved until the day he dies. But the next morning the walls came up, the attitude started, and when he had gone to greet you with a blinding smile and an adoring ‘kaltxì, yawne,’ on his lips as he bent to kiss your cheek, you pulled back and pressed a firm hand against his belly to push him away. 

He thought that your coldness was nerves, just a reaction a human might have to the new soul bond you’ve experienced. Humans don’t mate for life like the Na’vi do, but you’re special, you’re his, and Eywa has blessed your union and made it so even though it should not be possible. Maybe you just don’t know how to handle it. It’s okay, he can be the patient and supportive mate you need.

But the coldness and hostility doesn’t stop, the days go by and the passage of time doesn’t make you calm down. You don’t throw your arms around him like he wants you to, don’t say those three words he longs to hear fall from your lips said with all the love and trust that you have in your little tawtute body. 

Instead, there’s almost anger, a sudden indifference that he can’t seem to place. Had he done something wrong? He doesn’t think so. So, he tries to do the best he can, be the best mate he can be for you during your obvious time of struggle. He’s always there for you, will always be there for you, providing support and bringing you fresh meat, dicing up your favorite fruits and making you pretty jewelry that he knows will look so beautiful on you if you ever just wear it. 

You don’t. You toss the jewelry to the side like it's nothing, you let the food rot exactly where he’s left it.  

You’re not a Na’vi, you don’t understand the implication of your crassness towards his gifts. You don’t see how your refusals break his heart. It’s okay - you’ll learn. Humans are . . . unusual creatures. It will just take a bit more time for you to warm up to the ways of The People.

But his optimism stings with each slight, each indifference you show towards him. Great Mother, you’re so mean to him. Always trying to run from him when he grabs at you, ripping your hand away from his whenever he tries to hold it. You’ve been hiding from him, your trips into the village getting less and less frequent and you don’t let him in when he tries to come to the lab to visit you. 

“You don’t even like being here,” You say when he tries. And you’re right. The stuffiness of the lab makes him tense, and it feels like he can sometimes feel the energy from the machines pressing up against his body. But when he’s with you he doesn’t care. You’re the only thing that matters to him, and when he’s with you, it’s like everything else just falls away. 

The sting from your smack is still on his hand, but he shakes it off as he reaches out to caress your arm instead. “Ma yawne, are you hungry? You should come to my hut. I’ll cook you a fi–”

“No,” You interrupt, shrugging him off of your arm. “I’m not hungry.”

“Oh,” He breathes, disappointment burrowing in his chest but he tries not to let it show even as his fingers reach out to graze against your wrist. “Well then maybe we can go on a walk? There’s a lake not too far from here that I’ve been wanting to show you. It’s beautiful.” Beautiful like you. “I know you’ll love it.”

“No, Neteyam,” You say again, pulling your wrist from his wandering fingers and crossing your arms across your chest. “I’m busy.”

“What are you doing? Maybe I could–”

“No,”

The clipped word rings in his ears. No, no, no, always no. He’s your mate, you shouldn’t have to tell him no. Where you go, he goes. Where he goes, you go. Together. Simple as that. And yet it’s still always no, no, no. You’re turning away from him without another word, walking away with strides he thinks are way too quick for a human, and he can’t help but wonder where you’re heading to in such a rush. 

“Okay,” He calls out, desperate for the conversation not to be over but knowing it will just upset you if he follows you. “I’ll come see you later, tìyawn. I swear it!”

You don’t even look back.

He hasn’t seen you in nearly a week and his patience is running thin. 

Your absence is killing him. 

Where are you? Why won’t you see him? He knows you have to be suffering too without him. Mated pairs aren’t meant to be without each other for so long and he feels like he’s been apart from you for an eternity. 

You stopped coming to the village. He’s been looking, desperately hoping that he’ll see you among the multitude of faces he sees every day. He wants to hear your voice so badly, wants to pull you into his arms and hold you there, safe and loved, while the warmth of your skin soaks into his. 

He wants to push you down again, cover you with his body as he presses you into his sleeping mat - your sleeping mat. Both of yours, together, the way it should be as he plows into your swollen cunt. His hut should be covered in your scent by now, not an inch of it left without your mark on it. 

It’s not, and his understanding for your trouble adjusting to the bond is quickly dissipating. 

He’s tried to come see you at the lab multiple times. A lot. Every day. The lab guys turn him away.

She’s busy. She’s sleeping. She’s too tired. She’s not feeling too well. 

If you're not feeling well, he should be in there to heal you. Give you comfort when you're at your weakest and motivation to get better. So he can keep an eye on you and make sure you’re safe. If you’re tired, let him in so he can wrap his arms around you. His chest is sure to be a better pillow for you than any other one you would be laying on. He would be warm, chest moving with just the perfect amount of rise and fall to lull you into a restful sleep. Your beauty sleep - not that you need it. And if you’re busy . . . what’s the harm in him just being around you? He won’t bother you, but any time just existing in the same space as you is like a dream come true. 

He tries to be nice, tries to be a good person - these are his father’s friends, allies of the Omatikaya - and he’s never been one to act impulsively. But they are keeping you from him. You are his. His mate. 

By the looks on their faces, they know how lucky they are that they got away with only some vicious snarls and a pushed over lab desk. Keeping away someone’s mate should be punishable by death.

At least, that’s how Neteyam feels right about now.

He doesn’t like being angry, hates the disgusting feeling that he feels clawing relentlessly at his chest. But he’s frustrated and heartbroken at your self inflicted absence and the warriors he’s training are his unfortunate victims. He pushes them hard, way harder than he probably should. Two of them have already had to go see the Tsahìk for their injuries and most of them look just about ready to drop from exertion. The anger he lets out on them doesn’t seem to quell any of the feelings still boiling inside him.

But then he sees you and it’s like time stops. The anger and frustration flee his body in a rush of relief. You’re here. 

You’re hiding behind a tree just along the edge of the clearing. Why are you hiding? Maybe you’re trying to surprise him, stay out of sight until he’s done training so as to not distract him with your beauty. You would have. You’ve told him plenty of times that he has a staring problem. But he can’t help it. You’re just so breathtaking that he can’t help but want to stare at you all the time. You’re what he imagines Eywa incarnate to look like - a beauty so alluring and otherworldly that he just can’t bear to tear his eyes away. 

The training session is just about done. He releases a majority of the warriors for the day and there’s only a few stragglers that need a few minutes of one-on-one training before he can send them on their way too. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying to them, letting muscle memory and repetition help him drag these last few minutes along as quickly as possible before he’s able to run over to you. He’s already decided that he’s going to take you out tonight. A date night, just like his father and mother have. It’s a time where you both can get away from the hustle and bustle of village and lab life and just be with each other. You clearly need it and he’s so desperate to spend time with you that he’s just about ready to kidnap you from your duties just so he can get a moment of peace just to stare at your gorgeous, unmasked face more. 

Maybe do some other stuff too. Hopefully. 

His heart hasn’t been the only needy thing of his without you. 

The last warrior he’s with is really pushing his luck. How hard is it to switch a knife from a bladed upward position to a downward facing position with just one hand? It’s a simple wrist movement to perfect a move that might save your life one day and this skxawng keeps. dropping. the. knife. Neteyam’s seemingly endless patience is gone. He dismisses the warrior, words much too harsh to be considered professional but he doesn’t care. His mate is waiting for him and he doesn’t want to waste any more time. 

He turns back to head to where you are, a giddy smile pulling at his lips, mood immediately flipping at the thought of finally seeing you, talking to you, holding you. 

Except when he does it’s like he’s being doused with freezing water. 

Another one of his warrior trainees, Oäpon, is standing in front of you and Neteyam can see how he’s purposefully bulging his muscles a little more to make them seem bigger - an action male Na’vi do when trying to attract a mate. Neteyam wants to rip those muscles out of his worthless body. He should be disgusted with himself with how fast his hand twitches towards the knife on his hip, ready to give no thoughts and just act on his emotions. He’s not impulsive, he’s not. But for once in his life he feels like he might actually kill one of his own clan members. 

Would the Great Mother desert him if he did?

But you catch his attention again, the movement of your small step closer to the other man dragging his furious gaze back to you. Your gorgeous eyes aren’t on Neteyam like they should be, but instead on Oäpon in return. You’re smiling at him, grinning so wide that surely it's fake because you’ve never smiled at him like that before. Oäpon lifts his hand and there’s a deep purple flower between his fingers. The flower finds its way behind your ear and all Neteyam sees is red. 

He’s across the clearing in a second, roaring snarls ripping from his chest as he tears the flower from behind your ear. He can hear Oäpon start to talk, to question what the fuck he’s doing, but the other man’s words are cut off with a pained gasp as he’s kicked to the ground and then he’s shock silent, fear written all over his face as he stares in horror at his kuru and the knife held in Neteyam’s inescapable grip. 

“Don’t! Please, don’t,” Oäpon begs, voice shaking as he struggles to force the words out. “Great Mother, help! Please, don’t!”

“Neteyam, stop!” You yell, tiny fists beating at Netayam’s back, but he barely even feels them. 

“She is mine!” Neteyam growls. “Mine. My mate. You do not touch her!”

“I didn’t know,” Oäpon whimpers. “I didn’t know. Please! I swear!”

He wants to do it, wants to slice through the braid so badly. He doesn’t deserve to have it. Kurus are sacred, the ability to connect to Eywa and her creatures is sacred. Attempting to defile the bond between a mated pair is nearly unheard of. Your screams for him to stop are just making the desire worse. You’re protecting him?! Protecting the thing that was trying to . . . no. No, no, no. He deserves to have it cut off, deserves to die.

Oäpon should kiss his feet in thanks for the mercy Neteyam shows by releasing him. 

“I don’t ever want to see you near her again,” Neteyam shouts. Oäpon doesn’t respond, too busy scrambling away and darting across the clearing, but Neteyam knows he’s heard him. 

“You’re a monster!” You scream, another fist coming down to hit at his back. “How could you do that to him?”

Your hits don’t stop and even through his rage he’s trying to be gentle with you. He catches your flying fists in one of his hands, holding them tight as he crouches in front of you trying to get on your level.

“Ma yawne, did he hurt you?” 

Your eyes are wide as you stare at him in disbelief. “Did he hurt me? Are you kidding me?"

Neteyam’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“You fucking–” You screech, Neteyam’s ears pinning against his skull from the high pitched, angry sound. “You–you–I–ARGH!”

You're so frustrated, so upset you can’t even speak properly. Maybe you are hurt - Neteyam’s eyes scan your body for injury, eyes lingering on the area around your ear where the flower had been. The flower now lays forgotten at your feet, crushed and ruined from his angry grip, and Neteyam can’t find any source of injury that might be causing your upset.

“You don’t have to worry,” Neteyam says, cupping your cheek with his free hand. “He won’t bother you anymore, I swear it.”

You jerk away from his touch. “What is wrong with you?”

“I don’t understand what you mean. Nothing is wrong?”

“No,” You shake your head, wrists still trying to twist out of his grip. “No, there’s something wrong with you. Something is seriously wrong with you,”

“You are upset, tìyawn. Tell me what I can–”

“Don’t call me that!” You scream, nose scrunching with the effort. “Stop calling me that!”

“Oh,” Neteyam’s swishing tail droops in disappointment. “I’m sorry, y/n. I didn’t know you didn’t like the name. I only meant to use it to show my love for you as my mate but I can–”

“We aren’t mates, Neteyam!” The words stab like a knife through his heart and his hand loosens around your wrists in shock enough for you to pull them out of his grasp. “We fucked once. A hookup, Neteyam. Sex, that’s it.”

“No,” He whispers. 

Why are you saying this? How could you say this? He was there! He remembers that night more clearly than any other day of his life. You love him. He feels it, feels it with every fiber of his being. You let him into your body, wrapped him tight inside you like a promise that you would never let him go - like he would never have to be alone ever again. You caressed his bullet scar, and he remembers the feel of your gentle fingers silently mourning for it and for all he’s had to suffer. He remembers thinking that being there with you in that moment was worth every other hardship he has to endure. He can take on anything with you at his side. 

“No,” He says again, disbelief coloring his tone. “How can you say that? We are mates! You’re mine!”

“No, we aren’t,”

“We are! I love you, y/n! Oel ngati kam–”

“We are not mated, Neteyam! We fucked. Mindless, hot, means-to-an-end-to-get-off sex. That’s it! Get that through your thick skull,”

He’s watching you as if in slow motion. You turn, stomping away from him as you start to head back into the forest and his brain feels like it’s going a million miles an hour. You’re mates. You are. You have to be - there’s no other way to explain the way he feels about you. The love and utter devotion he has for you. The need to be near you always - looking in your eyes, touching your skin, hearing your voice and the way you’ve always sounded so sweet saying his name. Eywa has blessed your union and he doesn't understand why you don’t feel the same way. Can’t you feel the same inescapable pull that he does? How your soul is tied to his in a way that surpasses even that of tsaheylu?

He reaches out to grab you before you get too far, fingers wrapping around your upper arm. Your own arm flies out around you and the sharp sound echoes through the forest and his sensitive ears before the pain registers on his cheek. 

He’s never seen your eyes so wide before, crazed and panicked as you stare back into his equally shocked amber ones. Your hand is shaking, still raised in the follow through of the slap. The force of your smack is still heating up his cheek, and if he can feel it as much as he is now, he’s sure your hand is probably tingling. 

Any other time he would check you for injuries. You’re so much more fragile than him - you could really hurt yourself if you’re not careful. But you just hit him. Your mate. The man that loves you more than anything. He’s frozen, body cold and not knowing how to react. 

Don’t call me that.

Anger floods through him again. This was Oäpon’s fault. He tricked you, seduced you somehow - out from right under Neteyam’s nose. He should have killed him. 

We are not mated.

You rip your arm out of his grip, wide eyes locked on him as he straightens his body, unfurling out of his crouched position as he rises to his full height. The shadow his body creates over you sends something primal through him. The darkened image of him completely overtaking your tiny figure makes him hungry. Possessive. 

Just sex, Neteyam. That’s it.

He won’t let that worthless skxawng corrupt you anymore. You’re the love of his life, his tanhì. You’re just confused. You’re not thinking clearly. 

You don’t mean it. 

He feels like if he concentrates hard enough, he can hear the sound of your heart racing. Or maybe it's his own, the frantic thump thump thump thump thump of his heart pumping rushing blood into his ears and making him feel like there’s static in his brain. 

When you turn to run, he’s not even shocked. His pupils dilate until there’s barely any color left, predatory gaze marked onto your back as you sprint into the dense Pandoran forest. Everything is so clear to him now. You’re testing him, wanting to see how loyal he is and how far he’ll go to keep you. You’re a beautiful woman, of course you’d have options. But you chose him for a reason, and now you want him to chase you - to prove himself a strong and worthy mate.

You want to play hard to get? Fine. He’ll play. 

He’s a natural hunter, an apex predator - and you, tiny human, have just become his prey. 

It might be fun to hunt you again - sometime in the future when this is all behind you. He’d be sure to make it as fair for you as possible: give you a head start, maybe allow you to rub some mud on your skin to hide your scent just to drag out the game a little longer, give you ample time and resources to find a good hiding spot where you can sit and try to listen with your not that great human hearing for any sign that he’s creeping up on your position. He’d wrap his arms around your waist when he inevitably finds you, smug grin tugging at his lips when your giggled shrieks pierce his eardrums as he pulls you from your oh so clever hiding spot. And then, he’d claim his prize, tearing your clothes from your body right there wherever he found you and fucking you until your giggly shrieking turns into blissful moaning. 

This isn’t fun. It’s not a game. And your headstart is dwindling rapidly. You’re racing through the forest, running as fast as your feet will carry you. He can hear your heavy breaths, the sound of the ground crunching under your clumsy feet. He can smell you, the scent you’re leaving behind in your rush is a direct trail back to you for him to follow. 

He doesn’t need it. He never lost sight of you. 

One of his strides equal close to four of yours, and he covers ground quickly as he closes in on you. He catches you only a little further into the forest than where the chase started and you scream as he tackles you to the ground, the force of his momentum completely knocking you both off your feet. He doesn’t let you touch the ground on the fall, twisting his body enough to take the brunt of the impact. The action still leaves you breathless, dazed for a moment before seeming to come back to yourself and struggling to get off from on top of him.

His hold around your waist is secure and he uses the anchor he has around your waist to throw you on to the ground beside him before climbing on top of you and pinning both of your hands above your head with one of his. 

“Get off me!” You scream, body struggling underneath him, hands pulling in his unrelenting grip as you try to get free, but you can barely move under his weight. “Get off me, Neteyam! Get off, get off, get o–”

His free hand latches around your throat, your words dying on your tongue as his fingers dig into the sides of your neck. 

“Quiet!” He hisses, baring his fangs. “Be quiet!”

The aggressive display makes a small whimper rip from your throat and he can feel the vibrations tickle under his palm. You’re not quiet though, you never stay quiet - ever the talker that you are. You’d talk his ear off if you could. The only time you’ve ever stayed quiet is when you avoided him, and he refuses to let that happen again. 

“Neteyam, please,” You whisper, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You’re scaring me. Let’s just relax and talk about thi–”

“Shut up! Just shut up!” He growls. “You’ve said enough already, don’t you think?”

He releases your hands, grip on your throat loosening and moving down slightly until it's just a singular hand pressed against your chest to keep you pinned. Your hands immediately latch onto the large hand, one of your own clutching the back while the other curls around one of his long fingers. He feels how you pull at it, trying to get it off of you - and he knows how much harder you could be trying right now if you wanted to. 

He lowers his face to yours, inches away so that his breath fans across your skin as he speaks. “You like to talk, but you don’t like words. You’ve made that clear. My words mean nothing to you.” He can feel how your quick breathing puffs against his face too, the warm air caressing his cheeks. “You need actions - a visual representation of my devotion to you. I see that now.”

In a flash, his hands are balling into her t-shirt, pulling roughly in either direction and the thin material gives easily under the pressure. You gasp as he rips your shirt down the middle, the torn fabric falling on either side of your body as he does the same with your bra with a quick snap of his wrist. 

“What are you doing?!” You shout, but you can’t fool him now. He’s grown tired of your games and your body can’t lie to him. 

“Don’t worry, yawne. I’ll give you what you need,”

The sound of ripping material echoes through the otherwise peaceful forest. Your shorts require just a bit more force to tear, but it’s barely a percentage of his full strength so the fabric comes apart at the seams easily leaving the ruined bottoms still around your waist and thighs, but a large opening right at your center. A rumble of satisfaction builds in his chest when he smells you, the first scent of your arousal permeating the air around you. You gasp when he rips your panties too, leaving nothing left of the light blue material but the thin elastic around your limbs and hips. 

His mouth waters at the sight of your pretty pussy, bare and tempting and already getting so wet for him. 

“Fuck,” You whimper, arms splayed out beside you, fingers gripping into the moss covered ground. 

“You like it when I’m rough, huh?” Neteyam teases. “When I’m demanding and just take what I want from you?”

You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the way he can see your pussy’s responding clench is damning to your denial. 

“I remember now,” Neteyam’s hand slides down your thigh and caresses your calf, long fingers wrapping around your leg as he presses a nipping kiss to your ankle just above your sock. “You loved how I shoved you down on the ground that night. It made you gush in your pretty little tewng, didn’t it?”

“S-shut up,”

“Hm, my muntxate likes being handled roughly, doesn’t she?”

Your response is a shocked squeal when he snatches your hips, hauling you up off the forest floor, the quick snapping of moss ripping from the ground as you’re abruptly pulled upwards. Your entire world is turned upside down as Neteyam dangles you like prey in front of him. He throws your legs over his shoulders and wraps a secure arm around your stomach to hold your lower back to his chest. The other hand holds onto your thigh to make sure to keep you spread before him as if you had any chance to wiggle away. 

A choked sob rips from your throat as your hands reach for the ground, blood rushing to your head as your fingers stretch as far as they can trying to get leverage and hold yourself up. Your fingertips only just barely graze the soft green. 

Neteyam groans as he enjoys the sight right in front of his face. You’re spread open for him, pussy perfectly framed by the destroyed fabric - dripping and glistening in want against the dimming sunlight despite yourself. He can see how you subconsciously contract and clench it, hole practically begging him to fill it with his tongue. He wants to bury his face in it, suffocate on your smell and taste until it’s all he can think about. 

So he does. 

He digs his face between your legs, tongue lapping at your folds like a man starved. He is. He didn’t get to do this your first time. It was too fast, too desperate. He couldn’t control himself with you. Everything about you calls to him like a siren, luring him in with your beauty and light. You dragged him down on top of you that night. You were already open, you told him - had fucked yourself with that fake cock he had found hidden in your drawers during an impromptu hangout in your bedroom at the lab. You still felt suffocatingly tight when he pushed in, but he had been grateful that he didn’t have to wait.

He had waited so long for the chance to be inside you that he felt like if he had waited another second without you he would have exploded. 

Your back arches as he licks up your slit, moaning loudly as his textured tongue slides across your clit. 

“Oh my god,” You gasp out, hands forgoing reaching for the ground and finding purchase on his thighs instead. “Neteyam, f-fuck,”

He hums in response, his tongue targeting the sensitive bundle of nerves, sliding and flicking relentlessly against the small bud as your moans and gasps get louder and louder. Your sounds are driving him crazy, the taste of you on his tongue setting every one of his nerves on fire. His cock is already hard, already working its way past his wet slit and tenting in his tewng. You taste so good, so perfect for him. He wonders what it feels like for you, how good it must feel for you to be writhing in his grip now, so vocal for him in your pleasure that your voice is already starting to sound a bit raspy from use. He bets his tongue feels better than any other man you’ve ever tried, the texture of it foreign and unique and unlike anything else you’ve ever had before. 

It will be the same way for him too, he’s sure. He’s dreamed about it, fantasized and jerked off to the thought of your tongue, soft and silky, running up and down his cock. You’d torture him with it, be teasing and delicate in your licks, alternating between those featherlight, barely there teases against his lavender tip and firmer strokes down the base of his cock. 

Your nails are digging into the meat of his thighs as he wraps his lips around your clit, panting breaths telling him yes, right there, Teyam, fuck, fuck, yes as your hips try to hump against his face. You’re right there, right on the edge, ready to fall over it with just a little bit more.

But he stops, reveling in your frustrated groan as he pulls his mouth away from your soaked core. His intense golden eyes meet yours when your head forces its way up, raspy voice whining a desperate ‘why’ as you feel your orgasm slipping away from you. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” He demands. He needs to hear you say it. 

“Teyam…” 

He can’t bear to hear you deny him again. Can’t handle hearing you say the words that make him feel like his heart has been dunked in acid.

His lips latch onto your clit again, sucking harshly at the tiny bud and your words cut off with a gasp. He works you back up, your head falling back as he nips at your clit with his sharp teeth before licking down your slit to circle your entrance. You’re so tight, so so so tight around his tongue as he pushes it in. You clench around the wet muscle and then somehow clench even tighter when the hand gripping your thigh reaches over to rub firm circles on your clit.

“Teyam, oh god, Neteyam, please!” You beg, thighs squeezing his head as they try to force themselves closed. “I’m gonna cum. Please,”

You wail as he pulls his mouth away again, your hole clenching around nothing as your orgasm dissipates again. 

“Say it,” He feels your whole body shiver as his words breathe hot air on your sensitive cunt. “You’re mine. Say it, y/n,”

You sob, frustration evident in every sound and twitch your body makes. You’re trying to lift your head again, looking up at him from your spot dangling below him like a puppet, and he wonders if all the blood rushing to your head from being upside down for so long is getting to you. 

“Say it,” He repeats and then digs back in, the flat of his tongue roughly swiping over your clit before latching onto it again.

Your legs kick as he works you up again, overstimulated pussy throbbing as he plays you like an instrument he’s known for years. His cock is throbbing too, desperate to be released from the confines of his tewng and shown some attention. He wants so badly to push inside your soaking hole and feel how it’ll grip his cock within its slick walls. 

“Neteyam, please!” You cry, and he knows you’re so close, right there again as he hurdles you back towards that just out of reach edge. He doesn’t stop the suction of his mouth. You’ll say it, he knows you will. You’ll say it because if you don’t, you won’t get to cum. He’ll keep you here, upside down in his unrelenting hold until you pass out from exhaustion before he’s going to let you go without saying it. 

You’re a stubborn brat. He can see as he looks down your hanging body that you’re biting your lip. You want to say it - you’re just being stubborn. He sucks harder on the swollen bud, free hand smacking your hip and your asscheek just hard enough to make you cry and gush further on his tongue, the remaining remnants of your clothes doing very little to muffle the sting. 

“Okay!” You yell. “Okay, okay, Neteyam! I’ll say it! I’m yours! Please, please let me cum!”

The words make Neteyam’s chest tighten. Finally. Finally, you’ve admitted it, and the excitement from the admission urges him to lick you faster. He’s sloppy and greedy as he eats you out, overeager and face wet to the point of dripping as he devours you for all you have. You cum on his tongue with a choked scream, hands reaching up to grab desperately at his arm encircling your waist, nails digging into the cerulean flesh as your back arches and your thighs clench tightly around his head. 

He swallows everything you offer him, lapping up your juices like his favorite most treasured treat, before placing a protective hand on your back to steady you as he lowers you back down to safety.

“Mawey, yawne,” Neteyam coos, gently brushing away a few rogue pieces of moss stuck to your sweaty forehead. You’re still panting, exhaustion creeping over you as your eyes glaze over and threaten to close. The oxygen tube had unhooked from around your ear at some point during your experience upside down. Neteyam guides it back around your ear with careful fingers. “You’ve been such a good girl for me. Keep being a good girl while I fuck you, yes?”

Your eyes widen at the mention of fucking, shaking your head slightly even as the full bodied shivers of the orgasm’s aftershocks continue to wrack your body. “N-no, Teyam. C-can’t take i-it.”

Neteyam smiles, leaning forward to press a sweet kiss against your lips. The feel of your lips on his is almost enough to make him cum. He’s so worked up already, so high off the taste of your cunt on his tongue that all it takes is the loving press of your lips on his and he’s a second away from exploding in his tewng and ruining the fun. 

“Yes, you can,” He says against your lips, his sharp teeth digging into your plush bottom lip just to hear you whine. 

Last time he fucked you, he took you from the front. It was love making, a bonding of two souls coming together as one - a spiritual experience filled with panting breaths, eye contact, and the passionate coupling that comes with mating with the one your heart belongs to. 

You don’t deserve that right now, not with the way you’ve hurt him - made him work for the love that should have been given freely. The things you said can’t just be forgotten. You need him to prove his worthiness to you? Prove his loyalty? Then fine, he’ll do that by giving you exactly what you deserve.

You yelp when he flips you over on your stomach, large hands grabbing your hips and hauling them up so your ass is in the air and on display for him. The remaining fabric of your shorts still cover nearly half of your ass, but the little coverage does nothing to diminish the amazing view. You try to push yourself up with your arms, but Neteyam is quick to shove you back down with a hand on the back of your neck. 

“No, no, tìyawn,” He says, running a large hand over your exposed ass, his fingers teasing along the creamy slit of your pussy. “You said you’re mine, so let me see what’s mine.”

His teasing fingers find your hole and his teeth dig into his lower lip when he sees your thigh start trembling as he circles your entrance with the pad of his finger. You like it rough, he has to remind himself. You’re a human, so delicate compared to him that he naturally wants to be gentle with you. But that got him nowhere, it got him ignored. You respond to roughness, passion, him taking charge - so he doesn’t give you any warning before he’s plunging two long fingers inside you all the way to the knuckle.

You scream, slick walls squeezing around his fingers, your own hands once again ripping at the moss below you. The scream is agonized, oversensitive and pained from your earlier edging and orgasm. Your thighs are shaking, desperate sobs erupting from your throat. But the way you’re pushing back against him, rocking back against his invading fingers trying to get them deeper inside you tell him everything he needs to know. 

“Look at you,” He coos. His fingers start up a steady rhythm, thrusting inside you with purpose as he stretches you open. “Such a little whore for me, aren’t you?”

Your moans are muffled against the ground, cheek pressed firmly against the moss from his hand pinning you down by his neck. You ignore his question, too lost in trying to push back against his hand and make him fuck you faster - so he rips his fingers from your gripping cunt, drops of your wetness flying from the force of his retreat, and his large hand lands harshly on your backside. 

You howl at the smack, the sound of the slap against direct skin this time cracks through the forest like a gunshot. 

“I asked if you’re my whore,” Neteyam repeats. It’s not as romantic as ‘I’m yours��, but still just as important. 

“Yes, Teyam,” You whine. “I’m your whore.”

“Just for me, right? Only my whore,” Silence again, but your hips are still wiggling and searching for his fingers, so he rewards your silence with another sharp smack. “Say it, yawne,”

“Fuck!” You cry, ass feeling like it's on fire even as more of your slick drips down your thighs. “Yes, yes! Only for you, Teyam. Only for you,”

“Good girl,” Neteyam purrs, and you’re rewarded this time with his fingers sliding back inside your aching pussy. 

He stretches you out on those two fingers, alternating between scissoring them inside you and curling them to rub at that special spongy spot that makes you squeal and see stars. He contemplates adding a third, but decides that he wants to finish stretching you out on his cock instead. 

This time when you cum, it's less of a scream and more of a deep guttural groan that comes from deep inside you. It’s wetter than he expects it to be when you squeeze around his fingers, and the sight of your slick dripping from your mound onto the forest floor beneath you makes him feel absolutely feral. 

He lets go of the back of your neck and pulls his fingers from your abused cunt. The wet fingers work frantically at the knots on his tewng and he feels like he can’t get the fucking thing off fast enough. When the knots come undone and the tan material flutters to the ground, he breathes a sigh of relief, thick needy cock springing from its confines to slap against his belly. 

When he focuses back on you, your exhausted body is already trying to curl in a ball, eyes threatening to close as sleep calls to you. No, Neteyam thinks. He’s not done with you yet.

He flips you back on your stomach, pulling your hips back up high so they’re flush with his. You both groan as he rubs his hard cock between your folds, the tip nudging at your swollen clit. Fuck, you feel so good, pussy feeling like silk against his aching length. His eyes are locked onto where he’s lining his head with your entrance, watching in awe as he nudges himself forward, your greedy hole welcoming him in like you’ve been doing this forever. He can’t control his sounds, grunts and moans of pleasure echoing loudly through the trees as he sinks himself inside your slick walls. You’re so tight, even with the amount he’s stretched you out already you’re still so tight. But you stretch around him like you were made for him, made to take his cock into your depths - like your insides already know the exact shape of him and welcome him back into their warm embrace.

You whimper as he fills you up, back arching and hands clawing at the ground like you’re both trying to get away from him and closer to him at the same time. 

“I fucked you so good, didn’t I?” He gunts, pulling halfway out of your gripping pussy before slamming back in, relishing in the tortured moan it pulls from you. “That night by the fire. Made you cum so many times, over and over again until you were so cock drunk you couldn’t speak.”

He pulls out again, just a little further this time before thrusting back in. He does it again, and again, the rhythm hard and unforgiving and he pulls your hips closer to his. In the back of his mind he fears that he’s being too mean, too rough, but your gasping hiccups and blissed out sighs contain any worry. This is as much for him as it is for you anyway. He’s allowed to be selfish. 

“You’re always so talkative,” He pants. “Where’s that pretty voice now, huh? You were so talkative that night, just endless pleas of my name falling from your gorgeous lips. Like music to my ears. I wanna hear it again. Please, yawne?”

“Mmh, please,” You whine. “Please, Teyam,”

“Please what?”

“Faster,” You beg. “Fuck me faster,”

Who is he to deny such a sweet and pretty thing?

He leans forward, body curling over yours to cover you completely, one of his hands grabbing yours and linking your fingers together as he presses them both against the ground. His other hand is still on your hip, using it as leverage as he fucks your puffy pussy faster, the tip of his cock barreling against your cervix with each snap of his hips. 

He can feel the knot on the base of his cock swelling, the large ball of tissue nudging at your entrance with each thrust. The instinct driven part of him urges him to push harder against you, to force the knot against your tight hole to see if it will fit. 

He didn’t knot you that night, not wanting to risk hurting you or getting you pregnant so fast with such a new relationship. He came inside you with his fist wrapped tightly around his knot instead. Na’vi bonds are forever. Human bonds . . . now he’s not so sure. He’s not willing to risk it anymore. He’s going to bond with you in every way he knows how. 

When he feels his orgasm creep up his spine, he lets instinct take over. His grip on your hip tightens, thrusts halting as he presses the enlarged ball against your soaked entrance. 

You gasp, whimpering as his knot stretches you more. “Oh god, wait, wait,”

But it's too late. With another determined shove, the knot pops inside you and he has you trapped, locked on his cock until time decides to free you. 

“Neteyam, i-it’s too b-big,” You whine, shock evident in your voice. “Hmh, so full,”

Neteyam plants soothing kisses on the back of your head and neck, the hand on your hip smoothing around your belly to caress the large bulge of the outline of his cock in your stomach. “I know, tìyawn. I know. It’s so much, but you’re doing so well. Just a little more for me, okay?”

He can’t thrust now, can't even so much as pull out an inch now that he’s locked inside you. So, he makes you do the work. He keeps one hand on the bulge in your tummy, the other hand coming down to rub relentlessly at your throbbing clit. The stimulation makes you keen, pussy clenching and tightening around him and working his aching length with your wet walls. 

His fingers on your clit are your undoing. He barely hears any noise from you as your orgasm hits, but this time he’s able to see the side of your face as you come undone. Your eyes roll back into your head, mouth opening in a silent scream, but it's like all the breath has been stolen from your lungs. Your body tenses, muscles shaking through the overwhelming pleasure, and he feels as much as he hears how you gush and squirt all over his teasing digits and the ground below you. 

He moans at the sight, the feel of your pussy clenching around his length and the wetness from your orgasm on his fingers and cock makes him tip over the edge. His orgasm crashes through him, tearing him apart as he spills himself inside you. His cum paints your walls, and his knot makes sure to keep every single drop of it inside you. 

Neteyam collapses next to you, shaking as the aftershocks roll through him, and pulls your limp body safely against his. It will be at least an hour before the knot’s swelling goes down enough before he’s able to slip out. You let out a moan of pain as the knot pulls at your entrance as he adjusts you, but he sushes you.

“Relax, ma yawne. I’ll take care of you.” He coos. “Oel ngati kameie,”

You don’t say it back. You don’t even hear him, already dead to the world as your exhaustion finally catches up with you. 

It’s okay. He knows in his heart that one day soon, you’ll say it back.

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @beautiful-brown-skin-05 @minnory @localjasmine @skywonder @neteyamswillow @luvv4j4ybe11 @vampirefilmlover @quicktosimp (cause you said you liked yanderes)

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[trulyumai]

soon to be heir

—pairing: emperor Geta / empress! reader

synopsis: word of your pregnancy spread fast. Geta had to act even quicker to ensure your safety.

warnings: talk of violence, short tempers, grabbing. geta tries to be soft.

a/n: this was very heavily requested, enjoy everyone!

The news spread like wildfire.

‘Empress with a soon to be heir!’ For the gods, your own servants whispered about it.

It was true, of course. How could it not be, for Geta would make sure to fill you almost every night. Inching his fingers to touch below and shove the remainder of his seed into your wet mound.

He had planned for this. Dreamed of it.

Of you swole with his child; all his own doing. You didn’t, or hadn’t, planned on becoming a mother this early into his reign. But life was funny that way. Life and a certain ginger haired emperor.

You sat now, swelled next to the man during dinner time. It was unfortunate on the servants really, to abide by all your silly cravings. grapes here, jackfruits there and oh! Don’t forget about the sweet bread. Did I mention the berry spread?

“Wife,” Geta’s voice drew you from your thoughts. A hand, warm and callous placed itself upon your tummy. “Would you be receiving anything else?” He was ever so doting on you now. His eyes even held a bit of love to them from time to time.

“Ahm,” thinking you tried to place the current craving at command. But with a newfound shyness and tinge of embarrassment, you decided against it. “It’s— it’s nothing, dear husband.”

Almost immediately, Geta sensed the lie. And oh, how he hated those.

For gods sake, half of the palace lay in waste for the rumor of there being a rat, so for the audacity you displayed? It was dangerous.

He squinted and with the same arm, draped it across your shoulders, pinning your shorter body to his. “You wouldn’t be lying to me, little wife, would you?” A fire sprung up inside your body. Automatically, fight or flight seemed to be kicking in.

“It’s just a small thing. Not even worth mentioning really,” spit had gathered in your mouth incessantly out of fear. Gulping it down, the emperor leaned in further, until his nose brushed against yours.

If it were any other man, you would have called him pretty.

If it were any other man, you would have danced kisses upon his cheeks, his eyelids.

But it was Geta.

So you just watched, holding back a whimper as he applied more pressure with his hand upon your back.

Wordlessly, you knew what he wanted. He had become so infatuated with your wanton needs lately.

Oh, a bath? He’ll start it.

Those rare flowers by the bay? He’ll send word for them.

What’s that, that man is staring little too long? Beheading it is!

The last one was on his account, Geta had the man seized while you woddled back to the chambers, unaware of the whole predicament until your faithful servants informed you.

Geta had lobbed his head off right in the middle of the throne room. Screaming on about loyalty, fealty. What was his.

Geta’s fingers slowly perched there way below your chin, mulling you out of the violent place you put yourself in.

“Well?” The man wasn’t known for his patience, and you were surprised he lasted this long already.

“It’s… honey bread.” The emperor had to stifle his laughter. To hear and worry over such a dumbfounded thing.

“Honey bread.” He repeated, already raising his palm to signal for the chef.

“It shall be done, my wife.”

“It’s not necessary—

“It shall be done.” That was the end of it, you supposed.

Slowly, cautiously you sat up, legs already shaking with the added pressure.

Geta’s hands lay tensed and ready, just in case he needed to grab or hold you.

Unfortunately for him, you noticed this. Wanting to grant the man his sought out intention of protection, you reached out and cradled his hand in your own.

“Walk me back to our room?” And with a look as pathetic as that, how could the man say no.

He stood with you, and automatically, the servants in the room bowed their heads.

Fearful to take a glimpse of you and it be mistaken for something else.

Fearful to lay eyes upon the gruesome emperor with the short temper.

Now, with his big palm splayed out on your lower back, you began your stroll. Leaning into his soft robes your eyes shut. Geta had no problem taking the lead, holding onto your body with desperation and dare he say, infatuation.

[littlejuicebox]

Astarion talks in his sleep.

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav (Shadowheart is our lovely supporting role though.) Summary/Setting: 6 months post BG3, "good/spawn" Astarion ending, all fluff Rating/Warnings: PG / Very mild if any game spoilers but nothing related to major content or scenes Word Count: 900+ Notes: Inspired by this post here!

-----

Astarion talks in his sleep. It’s something you’ve never mentioned to him, because it’s mostly when he’s having a nightmare about Cazador or some other horrid trauma from his past. You'd quickly determined it not worth bringing up, for fear of embarrassing him. Plus, if you were being honest, part of you found it rather endearing... especially the lighter drabble that would escape his lips. Delighted giggles, little purrs... it could be overwhelmingly adorable, on occasion.

In fact, the first time you ever heard him say he loved you was in his sleep. Then you'd waited weeks… anxiously, impatiently, unbearably for the revelation to come out while he was awake, under his own terms.

But tonight, the talking and tossing isn't cute. The vampire writhing in bed disturbs you, and your eyes flutter open, catching the smallest glimpse of daylight between the thick, tightly drawn curtains and shuttered windows of your bedchamber. You'd just fallen asleep, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't the slightest bit annoyed.

You idly try to figure out the date. Adjusting your schedule to the night life was… difficult; you often lost track of dates nowadays. But somehow you manage to remember that it's been nearly six months since you all saved Baldur's Gate; six months since Astarion had been returned to a creature of the shadows. Six months you've been in the house provided by the city as you two adjust to whatever normalcy you are able to conjure up and figure out your next steps. You were a strong proponent for the Underdark; Astarion was not quite sold.

At first you think the silver-haired elf's tossing and turning is a night terror… it’s been nearly two weeks since the last one. He’s overdue. You ready yourself to pop out of bed and grab your calming herbs to steep a quick sleeping draught. But then you hear him, soft and garbled, laced with thick strings of sleep.

“Will you marry me?”

You turn to stare stupidly at the elf, eyes piercing through the blackness of your room; his face is obscured, you cannot tell if he’s awake. “…what did you say?”

Silence. A long, unbearable stretch of silence where your heart is pounding into your throat, practically rattling around your chest cavity at the sudden shock. And then he’s snoring again, and you’re left with your brow furrowed and robe half pulled onto your shoulder. Well, so much for your sleep.

You meander down the hall to the kitchen, where Shadowheart has several jars and plants strewn across the table. She’s practically taken over the kitchen since Gale left, not that you particularly mind, since she’s also taken over the cooking.

“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep right now?” She asks, spotting you out of the corner of her eye, not lifting her focus from the mortar and pestle in her hand.

“You won’t believe what Astarion just said in his sleep.” You murmur in dazed response, walking over to the cabinets and rummaging through the contents. You grab an old kettle and fill it with water, turning to look at the cleric.

“Gods, what was it? I’m quite thankful to be out of the camp... his night terrors woke all of us up at one point or another. It's no wonder you’re struggling with the schedule adjustment.”

“He said, ‘Will you marry me?’” You respond, almost giggling at how silly that sounds in retrospect, as you place the kettle on the stove.

Shadowheart pauses. One, two, three beats of silence. “Shit… well, I guess the cat is out of the bag now.” She murmurs with a shrug, before returning to grinding her herbs.

“Wh-what?!”

“Oh, come off, don’t be daft! You had to expect it would be coming sooner or later. Gods, your love is almost sickening… it was sickening, having to hear it all the time... once again, so thankful for the separation of these walls.”

You are frozen, your hand still holding onto the kettle as you appraise your friend. Shadowheart is right. You knew a proposal would come sooner or later… you just figured it would be much later. Astarion was still struggling; more often than not you woke to him in tears or in the throes of a sleeping fit. Countless calming elixirs and teas had been drawn up by you and Shadowheart in the last six months. Truly, you hadn’t thought he was thinking that deeply about it... you hadn't been, if at all. Gods, you two still didn't even know where you were headed after leaving this city-supplied house... the lease was up in a few weeks' time.

“I guess… well, I suppose I didn’t think he was ready.” You sigh, lighting the stove and sitting across the table, watching the cleric as she works.

“Oh, trust me, he’s ready. And he's certain. Perhaps not about anything else... but definitely about this. He's been writing to Gale for weeks trying to source a particular ring." Shadowheart responds, now pouring the contents of her grinder into pouches. "Just promise you'll act like it's a surprise when the time comes... he's been talking about it for a while. He's put a lot of thought into things."

"When will it be?"

Shadowheart laughs, the edges of her eyes crinkling as she flicks her gaze toward the ceiling. She’s now cinching the sachets and sorting them all into a nearby basket. "Now that I'm not telling you. I've already given away too much."

You try for a few more minutes to pry the information from your friend, but she remains tight-lipped. You even threaten her with detect thoughts, though you both know you'd never go through with it. Finally, a whistle from the kettle beckons you back to the stovetop, and the conversation is halted as you ready your tea and aim to go back to bed. You might not know when your love is going to pop the question, but you do know that when the time comes, your answer will be a resounding yes.

Click here for Part 2