#of the thought life that is '(sex) is and expected and normal part of adult life'

[devotion-between-the-wheat]

I do legit enjoy the m.echat stories but (especially in the 4th anniversary story) it's really clear that, whether intentionally or not, the writers never consider the concept of asexuality being possible.

[maiamore]

STAR-STRUCK

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ | W/C: 5k

Summary: You’re a fresh-faced production assistant for known action star Joel Miller. He’s not quite what you expected–but neither are you.

Tags: actor!joel x production assist reader, action film set, no use of y/n, rough/dom Joel, use of the word ‘kid’, mirror sex, rough sex, unprotected pinv, mentions of injuries & violence, Joel does his own stunts, public sex, bdj (big-dicked-Joel), Joel is not nice in this fic, more untagged read at your own discretion A/N: oof this a long one. also! i swear i've seen something similar relating to the mandalorian reference. if anyone knows the fic, pleaaaase let me know

READER’S TATT/PIERCINGS-SPO

This wasn’t what you’d imagined your life to look like. 

For the majority of your adult life, you’d clung to a glittering, idealistic vision of your future. You’d blame it on those countless movie marathons with your dad–the late nights, the worn-out couch and the satisfying click of the DVD player setting the stage for your ambitions. You’d dreamed of being a part of the magic. The glitz, the glamour, the art of it all. 

Directors like Ridley Scott, Martin Scorsese, John McTiernan captured your adolescent heart, fanning the flames of your Hollywood dreams.

You knew coming into this that it was going to be far from easy. God knows you’d paid your dues living in NYC after having moved from your small town–sharing a tiny shoebox of an apartment with three others, taking multiple part-time gigs, hustling to finally land a Production Assistant (PA) role.

And now here you were. Accommodations comped, flown to Atlanta for the shoot of some action movie you weren’t even allowed to know the title of thanks to the NDA you’d signed.

It was suspenseful, sure, but not in the sexy, thrilling way you’d imagined. More like in the “what fresh hell did I sign up for” sort of way.

“So you’ll be handling scheduling, coordinating, and helping the stylists. And making sure his overall well-being is met.”

You shuffled behind Jonah, the PA you were supposedly replacing. It was nearly overwhelming. Already built streets, custom housings, all wrapped up in a larger than life sound stage. Everyone was in their own world, working on their own tasks.

Normal people might have felt small and unseen. But you? You were still star-struck. You could be a part of something so much bigger than you, and that thought excited you. 

“7am every morning. You’ll need to be on standby to help Joel with everything he needs. So here’s the schedule.” 

More papers were being shoved to you, your arms slowly vanishing beneath an ever-growing stack. You scanned it, eyes twitching in dread. 

Every fifteen damned minutes had its own designation. Was this a movie or a military operation?

“Right! Got that. So…who exactly am I…” You squint at the bolded text on freshly printed paper, still warm to touch. “Wiping sweat at 16:45…for?”

Jonah halts mid-strut, turning back to you like you’d just insulted his entire bloodline. “What…do you mean? You don’t know who you’re working for?”

“I do.” You shoot back defensively. “Well–okay. No. Not really. I was given an NDA, so I’m–”

“It was a yes or no question, hun.”

Suddenly, you were grateful to J-hole leaving. Not so much of replacing his long ass list of endless tasks, though. 

He stops before the stylist’s station, gesturing to a cluttered board, displaying headshots and costume references for your apparent “boss.” As you step closer, your breath catches in your throat.

No way. No fucking way. 

“Joel fucking Miller?”

Your fingers, almost acting on their own, plucked one of the profile shots from the board. Joel’s broad frame was practically sculpted.  His Special Forces uniform taut over his muscles, probably for the character he was playing. Another close-up featured his face smudged with faux grime and fake injuries, his expression hardened and grim. 

And then…there were the less clothed test shots. Your gaze betrayed you, dipping to the dark trail of neatly trimmed curls disappearing beneath his belt.

Your head snapped up so fast it was a miracle you didn’t pull a muscle, as though the sheer force of willpower could exorcise the horny demon possessing you.

Jonah grins at your obvious surprise. Sighing dreamily at the profile shots of him, side views and costume shots.“Yep. Now. It isn’t going to be a problem with you now is it? We had to fire the old girl cuz’ she attempted to–nevermind. Don’t wanna get into that. It was a whole debacle. You can look it up in the files under the Miller versus Nancy lawsuit.”

You glanced at Jonah, confusion knitting your brow before returning the photo to the desk. Honestly? You probably wouldn’t have blamed this Nancy. Joel had been the blueprint for your sexual awakening. 

As fucked as it was. Considering he was closer in age to your dad than your own.

Watching him star in films by the greats back in high school had left you fantasizing, his smoldering intensity seared into your brain. God. You were going to need the entire night to mentally prepare for this.

“You tellin�� that story again?” The voice behind you sent a shiver up your spine–it was the kind of voice that wrapped around you like a thick yarned blanket on a cold night. And the kind of voice you fantasized about when you were grinding against your pillow.

You froze, every damned nerve on high alert. Turning slowly.

Joel Miller stands there. Resurrected from the photos itself.

He was dressed like he’d just walked off a lazy Sunday pickup game. Grey athletic shorts that hung low on his hips, revealing sturdy, hairy legs that somehow made him seem even more rugged. A black t-shirt clung to his frame, dampened at the collar with sweat. Navy cap sitting snug on his head.  

You couldn’t stop yourself from shamelessly dragging your eyes from the damp curls peeking out at the nape of his neck to his thighs. 

He scratches his stubbled jaw, his eyes sweeping the room before landing on you. They paused, and you realized–a little too late–that he’d caught you gawking.

Joel nudges his head towards you. “This her?”

Jonah nods, handing Joel a call sheet. “All new and sparkly.”

He looks you over–not in a predatory way, but like he was cataloging every detail. Dark and steady. And it lands on your shirt. For a split second his brows lifted, just barely.

“You watch that one?” 

Your brain stutters and you look down, realizing you’d stupidly worn your Mandalorian graphic tee. His face–or well, Din Djarin's helmeted face, was plastered across your chest along with the iconic Star Wars logo.

“Oh! Um. yeah,” you stammer, tugging the hem of the cotton as if the ink would magically disappear. 

Great. You meet the man you had dozens of posters of and you were stuttering like a fucking idiot.

“Big fan. Of the show. And, um, the movies. And, you know, your–” Joel holds up a palm, silencing your rambling. “Right.” He sounded amused, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “...‘preciate it.”

Joel never liked change. It was ironic, given his line of work. An actor, in its nature, had him slipping into new roles and personas on a constant basis. But no matter how many characters he played, he'd preferred the familiarity of a constant crew. 

So the news that Jonah was leaving and that his replacement was a fresh out of film school rookie had Joel grumbling for days.

Then he saw you.

Maybe it was the way you looked at him, like you were seconds away from fainting. Or maybe it was the shirt. That damn shirt.

You clearly hadn’t gotten the memo about dressing for long hours on set. Instead of the usual hoodie and less than glamorous foam sneakers combo, you were rocking a cropped baby tee stretched taut across your chest. 

His gaze dipped, almost involuntarily, taking in the rest of you. The way your bootcut jeans sat low and snug on your hips—to the bunch of keys and a juicy grape chapstick hung on a carabiner attached to your belt loop. 

When you shifted nervously, the movement sent a glint of light flickering from your stomach. A silver charm, shaped like a star, dangled from your belly button. He caught himself mid-thought, forcing his eyes back to your face, but the damage was done.

You weren’t as innocent as you looked. He’d figured out that much. 

Your fuck-ups hadn’t gotten you fired. Not yet, at least. Somehow, you were still here. Holding onto your job by a thread.

It still felt surreal, working for Joel Miller. You’d spent years watching this man on screen. All his works & press interviews. It seemed pretty fucking unreal to think that you now had his name saved to your phone like no big deal.

Given you weren’t able to tell anyone about it, though the purple vibrator that sat in your bedside drawer was pretty much the only thing that knew his name by now.

In the weeks that followed, you’d fallen into a rhythm with him. There were rules–unspoken ones. You didn’t ask too many questions, didn’t hover too close, and didn’t take it personally when he barked orders or dismissed you with a grunt. Joel wasn’t an easy man to work for.

What was even worse, was that in Joel's eyes, you were probably the least sexual entity to have ever existed. It stung, especially when you considered how much of your mind he occupied.

“Give me a…second. Dunno how these things work.”

You’d shifted uncomfortably, dropping to your knees to Joel’s horror. You sat on your thighs with a huff. Attempting to gather the hem of Joel’s pants to tuck into the army garters.

 “Christ. You don’t hafta…” Joel’s throat tightened as he fought the sudden, unwelcome heat pooling low in his gut.

“Huh?”

It was distracting, the sight of you so close. On your fuckin’ knees no less. Joel tugs around his belt. He snaps his fingers to catch your attention and you look up at him, with wide eyes. 

His thumbs twisting around the two metal hooks of the thin garter until it connects. “Just hook em’ together, kid.” 

You nodded at his words. Finally managing to neatly tuck it into his boots. 

Though from his vantage point, something else catches his eye–a small mark etched into your skin. Black ink at the nape of your neck, a star, delicate like the charm that hung from your belly button. 

“Ya got a thing for stars?” 

You blinked a few times before the words finally registered. Was he really starting a conversation when you were on the ground like this? You notice the slight nudge of his head towards your left. 

Instinctively, you cupped around the back of your neck. “Oh..yeah. I mean…it’s pretty and all.” You had to admit, Joel’s childlike curiosity over the ink on your body all of a sudden caught you off guard. 

He raises a brow at your admission. “What’s the point of puttin’ it at a place you can’t see. Seems pretty pointless.” 

“Didn’t put it there for me to see.” You say with a shrug. 

Joel’s jaw ticks when he realises the insinuation behind your words. He drags his hand down his face, opting to finally keep his mouth shut when the images conjured in his mind couldn’t be held back anymore. 

You didn’t quite notice his distress till you looked up after the lengthy silence that settled. 

The imperceptible twitch in his crotch area catches your attention. Your lips parted to stifle a gasp of surprise. 

Was he— “Jus’ get the hell up, kid.”

The respectable thing to do was to go on about his job. It was humiliating enough that you’d caught him in a painfully embarrassing position. 

But Joel Miller learned two new things about himself.

First, he didn’t quite mind the soft, lingering scent of strawberries and vanilla you seemed to carry. A quiet, comforting sweetness that seemed to cling to the air whenever you were near.

The second? Well, the second was far more troublesome. 

The thoughts that plagued him at night when he was fucking his fist, or someone else for that matter. It didn’t help that he was aware of such vivid and intimate details of you. It fucked with his head how desperately he wanted to draw pleasure out of you and stain that pretty little dainty star you had on your belly with ropes of his cum. 

The culmination of it all was taxing. But somehow? He managed to keep those thoughts at bay.

When the director finally called cut for the day, Joel stepped off set, muscles aching and shirt damp with sweat. He scans the area out of habit. 

Jonah would’ve been there by now–towel, water & phone in hand, ready for the usual barrage of calls and texts he needed to deal with.

Instead, it was you. 

Joel exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face as the realization hit him again. Right. Jonah was gone.

“You don’t have to look like the world’s ended, Joel.” 

He doesn’t answer you, not at first. 

“It’s not like I’m going to tell people that you—“

Joel seats himself in his chair loudly. A silent warning for you to not go there. He lets out a long, drawn out exhale. Folding his arms tightly. “Kid. Don’t know whatcha think you saw–”

That again. Kid. Was that how he saw you? You had half the mind to admit what the idea of it did to you—the idea that he might’ve gotten hard at the thought of you. 

“Hate that I even have to ask.” You begin, not letting him finish his thought. “You realize I’m not.” You were dabbing a little harder now, tossing out the used makeup wipes in the trash beside you. 

“Y’are when I’ve got a decade over ya.” He says simply. Wincing at your harsh gestures. “Don’t need the complications.” He pushes your hand away, his deep brown eyes stayed locked on you, searching, warning. 

“Leave well enough alone, got that?”

The following weeks on set proved to be grueling, even by Joel’s standards. His reputation preceded him. A stubborn, self-reliant actor who insisted on doing his own stunts. For the studio, it was a nightmare. Higher insurance premiums, a ballooning budget, and his manager losing sleep over the what-ifs. 

For Joel, it was just how he’d always worked.

But his body wasn’t what it used to be. He could feel the aftermath of his aching limbs with every roll, leap, and landing. By the end of each day, he was a drained man.

The tension on set that evening was suffocating, the kind that made every sound sharper, every movement feel urgent. 

Joel’s stunt wasn’t supposed to go wrong. It rarely did. But today was different. 

You’d seen the way his jaw tightened with every take, the exhaustion etched into the lines of his face. Monitoring him from the sidelines when the cameras were still rolling. 

Then it happened.

A sickening crunch, the unmistakable sound of something gone wrong. Joel hit the ground hard, and the set erupted in chaos. The director’s voice echoed through the sound stage, “Cut! Jesus. Check on Joel. Now!” as the crew scrambled toward him.

You froze, the towel and water bottle in your hands suddenly feeling useless. Your feet moved on instinct, but the crowd around Joel was essentially a wall. Blocking you out. 

You couldn’t get through.

“Back off. M’fine.” Joel’s voice cuts through the commotion, frustration dripping from every word. He swatted away helping hands, gaze darting through the crowd. His face twisted in anger, not from pain but from the lack of order.

“Where the hell is she?” he grumbled. 

You hesitated, your stomach knotting. His eyes finally locked onto you, and his expression darkened. “You. Get over here.”

The weight of his command pulled you forward, even as your gut screamed to stay back, letting someone more qualified deal with it.  You shuffled behind him as you’d maneuvered out of the crowd and back into his trailer. Eyes widening at the sight of blood seeping through a tear in his shirt.

“Joel, I–…shouldn’t we call–”

“Don’t need someone else,” he interrupted, his tone biting but strained. “Just. I’ll tell ya what to do. Kits in the left drawer.”

“Okay,” you murmured, trying to keep your voice steady, wracking your brain for memories of those first aid videos you’d seen on YouTube. Film school did not prep you for this. 

As you grabbed the first aid kit, you watched Joel slump against the trailer walls. You stood there, awkwardly, watching the scarlet blossom against his abdomen.

He looks at you for a moment before exhaling. “Y’know, you can ask n’ not jus’ stand there like a mute, darlin’.”

The witty remark dies in your throat when he yanks his shirt off. Effectively shutting your brain down entirely. You stare down at his body in its’ full glory. Damp with sweat and streaked with dirt. Blood smeared in jagged trails down his arm to his abdomen, mingling with grime from the fall. Joel pulls out the antiseptic wipes from the first aid kit, handing it to you.

“Shit, Joel. That looks fucking bad.” You hissed out, as though you were the one with a darkened gash on your midriff when you attempted to wipe the first streak off.

“Why…” Fuck. Your voice was cracking. “Why didn’t you just let someone else help you?”

He huffed, his dark eyes flicking to yours for a moment in amusement before looking away. “Ain’t worth makin’ a scene over somethin’ small.”

“This isn’t small, Joel,” you protested, frowning as you uncovered a deeper gash on his side. “You should’ve let the medics handle it.”

“Don’t need all that fuss.” His tone was clipped, defensive. “Been doin’ my own stunts for years. Ain’t stoppin’ now ‘cause of a scratch.”

“This isn’t a scratch.”

Joel’s gaze flicked to yours again, a flash of something unreadable in his expression. “Look, I get it, alright? But I don’t need everyone actin’ like I’m fallin’ apart. I’m fine.”

He knew deep down that his ego was far too big to admit that he actually needed help. 

“Stubborn,” you murmured under your breath, shaking your head as you pressed a clean pad against the wound.

“What was that?” 

“Nothing.”

Joel’s patience was paper thin, but he bit back whatever comment was forming on his tongue. “Enough of that. Just…tie it up” He sighs, strained, handing you a roll.

You nodded, fumbling with the bandage as your heart pounded in your ears. The wound was deeper than you’d thought now that it was clean, and the sight of it made your stomach churn.

“C’mon, darlin’. Ain’t got all day.”

You secured the bandage, tying it off with a bunny-eared bow before sitting back on your heels. Fingertips drumming on your knees, seemingly proud of yourself. 

Joel glanced down, his brows furrowing as he took in your work. “What the hell is that?”

“What?” you say defensively. “You told me to tie it.”

“Looks like ya wrapped a damn present,” he muttered. 

“Fine, I’ll redo it–”

“Don’t bother.” He caught your hands before you could move, holding them in place. “It’ll hold.”

The silence that followed proved to further intensify the air between the two of you. His grip on your wrist was firm but not harsh, his eyes locked on yours. You didn’t dare to move. 

The curve of his nose grazed your cheeks, the faintest touch sent a shiver down your spine, but he had enough sense to move away. 

You however, didn’t think, didn’t hesitate when you leaned in, capturing his lips in a quick, tentative kiss.

It seemed to have caught the both of you off guard.

Joel froze, the kiss barely lasting a second before he pulls back, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you thought he’d tell you off.

But instead, he leans forward. Kissing you harder, deeper. A palm slips to the back of your neck to anchor you in place.

With nowhere else to put your hands, you placed them on his thighs, gripping them tightly.

The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was desperate. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that made your head spin. His other hand gripped your waist, drags you closer until your knees pressed against the side of his hips.

But just as quickly as it started, Joel stops. He pulls back with a bated breath. His hands slip from where he held your neck. “Shit,” he mutters, his jaw clenching as he looks away. “Shit.”

You blinked, your heart racing as you tried to catch up. Trying not to let the disappointment show in your voice. “Joel–”

“Stop. I shouldn’t have.” The curtness in his tone startled you. But you frowned. Trailing behind him as he gets up. 

“Well you did.” You blocked his path towards the door of his trailer. Eyes filled with a burning persistence of him once again denying you. 

“Don’t push it, kid.”

You’d practically stepped up to him confrontationally. “—Or better yet, you gonna tell me that I imagined it?”

“You can’t do all of that and then just back off.”

It frustrated you to no end when he stonewalled you like this. Like you were some irrational kid who couldn’t read between the lines.

When Joel finally does speak, he merely says your name. With a finality you couldn’t quite refute. You bite the inside of your cheeks. Feeling humiliated at being shot down when you’d thrown yourself onto someone like this.

“Fucking coward.”

This time, you didn’t mumble. 

Joel visibly grimaces at that. You feel his hand grip painfully around your wrist, stopping you from leaving the trailer.

You let out a choked gasp when his hands shoot out to grip around your throat before you could even react. Forcing you backwards at every step. Instinctively, you grab around his wrists to loosen his grip. 

“Hey!” 

He leans down to your level, lips grazing against your ears in a deep whisper. “Fuckin’ coward, huh?”  You'd pushed all the right buttons. He'd held back for so damned long and he didn't have it in him to hold back. Not after you'd run your mouth.

You let out a shaky exhale. Teeth grit painfully. You should’ve felt scared. Horrified, really. But the tenderness in his hold makes you feel conflicted about what you should’ve felt. 

Joel’s grip held you firm. Tipping your head up. “Y’want me to fuck you that bad?”

A soft whimper leaves your lips when his back presses against you. The hardness rubbed up against your core. You shudder at the sensation, nodding weakly. 

His rough palms circle around your waist, turning you over the dressing table until your pelvis sat flush against it. The grip around your throat swiftly turns to a vice grip around your jaw. 

He tugs at your jaw. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Ugh—yes.…need you..tofuckme.” You manage through gritted teeth. It irked you to say it, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t have let up.

Joel tugs you to look up into your own reflection. Your gaze immediately sours, attempting to look away. 

“C’mon now. S’a pretty sight.” He tuts. His other palm drags the fabric of your top up harshly, pulling it up along with your bra. Your tits spilling at the notion. A gasp slips from your lips. 

“Joel!” Your palms tightens into fists on the table at the obscene sight. 

So much for someone who didn’t want to give in.

It doesn’t faze Joel, merely letting out a low whistle. Kneading them in his palms. “Perfect fuckin’ tits.”

He presses a kiss down the sides of your neck. Twisting around your nipples till they hardened between his fingers. You let out a pathetic whine at the sensation. Holding his arms firmly, you squirm as he nips your shoulder. 

“Could you just—“ Your protests don't stop him in the slightest. Nudging your head a little to give him room. He takes it as a sign to bite down on your neck, bruising you with hickeys all over. 

Joel seems to catch your nervous flickers towards the doors. He shifts your hair over one side of your shoulder. Thumbing over the ink on the nape of your neck. You hear the sound of the zipper, briefly catching sight of him shucking his pants down. He winces slightly at the dull pain shooting across his abdomen, but the desperation of needing you was far greater than the pain.

Somehow, the idea of not being able to see it made it so much worse. And as though he reads your mind, he presses his jaw against the side of your head. “Relax.” The tenderness in his tone through the roughness does manage to soothe your nerves. You nod slowly.

Your hips jolt as the cold air hits your body when Joel dips a finger under the waistband of your sweats. He teasingly brushes his fingers lightly against your skin before swiftly tugging them down to your thighs along with the flimsy cotton panties you had on. “A little warning would help.” You bite back, finally losing patience at his tactless gestures. 

Joel meets your gaze through the mirror. A lopsided smirk quirking up his lips. “Right. My bad.” You could feel the disingenuity in his tone before he taps the length of his cock against your lower back. The gesture almost mocking.

A shudder runs down your spine. He was big, unlike anything you’ve experienced before. 

He hikes your hip backwards and flush against him. Your palms instinctively clutches around the edge of the table. Joel takes his time, sliding his hard cock between the softness of your thighs. The sensation nearly sends you doubling over. Watching the weeping tip poke through in the reflection, slightly smearing his precum on your clit.

You squeeze your legs together subconsciously, earning a wince from him. He was certain he could come just from fucking your thighs like this. The pace he took now bordered on torturous. Teasing you with everything but giving you nothing. 

You took it upon yourself to stretch your hands between your thighs in an attempt to notch him in you. You were aching. Badly.

Joel lets out a grunt of disapproval, yanking your wrist to pin it behind your back. Leaving you to steady your body weight onto your other hand. “Eager little thing. Daddy ain’t ever teachya patience?”

His snark burned in your cheeks. It was a futile effort. He could see every single expression you were making from your reflection and he fucking thrived on it. Joel takes a hold of his cock, lining it up against your soaked cunt, he slowly drags your slick over his length. You were soaking him before he even started.

Your head dips, clinging onto the fleeting pleasure every time the tip of his cock bumped against your clit. 

“Joel–please just fuck me...”

So he does.

Before you could even catch your breath, he snaps his hips into you. “Deep breath f’me, sweetheart.” If not for his grip around your wrist, you would’ve probably face planted into the dresser. 

The sting from the intrusion of his thickness had your cunt tightening with every move he makes, squeezing the absolute life out of his dick.

Your hair falls in front of your face as he mercilessly fucks you. You swore you could feel him almost grazing the entrance of your cervix. “T-Too..too fucking...big.”

Joel tips his head at the sight of your pussy swallowing his cock, probably only halfway. He doesn’t say anything yet. Only humming at your whines. “I know baby.”

You look down shakily at where the both of you were connected, the lines between pain and pleasure blurring to the point you hadn’t registered the tears prickling the corner of your eyes. “Hurts…”

Joel seems to feel a tinge of empathy at the way you were struggling to take him, hiccuping through your whines. His gaze flickers to the way your pretty little face scrunched up, doing your fucking best like the good girl you were. A slight groan leaves his lips involuntarily.

All rationality be fucked.

His hand grips around your throat, forcing you to look up at the mirror. 

As humiliating as it was, you couldn’t help but feel increasingly turned on at the sight of his cock fucked into your dripping pussy in squelches. “See that? Takin’ me so ’fuckin’ well.” He sighs into your shoulder. 

The praise has you lifting your hips higher, on your tippy toes–forcing a deeper arch at your hips. With how slick your thighs were, you weren’t even sure yourself if you did come.

Nothing but the sounds of his pelvis snapping into your ass in rhythmic, hard slaps. He buries his head in the crook of your shoulder. And you hear him audibly grunt this time. Thrusting into you at a punishing pace. 

Joel could feel the all familiar tightening in his sack, he knew he was close. The sheer suction your soft, slick walls were providing him was nothing he’d ever felt before. He lets go of your throat, both palms gripped around your hips, painful enough to leave a mark. The table rattles under your combined weights and Joel’s frantic thrusts, products rolling and clattering onto the ground. He noses your cheeks, stubble rubbing against your pulse point. “Perfect fuckin’ pussy…” 

You offer a slight whimper at his words, meeting the intensity his thrusts weakly. You both still at the shuffle of footsteps approaching the trailer.

 The sharp knocks against the trailer door has the both of you whipping your head towards it. 

“Everything okay?”

Your heartbeat thuds in your ears loudly. The door wasn’t locked.

Joel doesn't answer, simply looking at you. Your expression twists in frustration. Mouthing the words ‘me?’. There wasn't time to deliberate. Your lips parts to speak, barely able to form coherent words. “Y..yeah. A-All good.” 

“Right…productions cutting it close. So if Joel’s oookaaay…”

You cursed internally at how persistent whoever behind the doors was. But you nearly see white when Joel fully slams into you. Deeper than before. You couldn’t control the sharp cry that leaves your lips, but it is soon muffled by Joel’s rough palms covering your mouth.

“M’fine. Give us ten.”

Your tears pool around his hand. Gripping onto his wrists when he continues to pound into you at a faster intensity. You were whining by the time the crewmate finally left. Joel pulls you against his chest. Audibly groaning into your ears now. “Fuck. M’close.” 

You nodded dumbly, not even sure just what at anymore. Shaky hands clinging onto him like a lifeline. With a final rut, his hips stutter, ropes of his cum painting the insides of your walls.

He held it there for a couple of seconds before pulling out. All messy and soaked with your arousal.

You let out a strained exhale at the feeling of loss as your pussy convulses around nothing, pearlescent liquid dripping from your reddened cunt. 

Joel sighs wantonly at the sight. With the state of you, he was briefly worried that he might’ve gone too hard. And then he sees it. Your smaller, manicured hands, pushing more of his dripping come into your folds. Yeah. Joel was fucked.

[jacevelaryonswife]

You Really Got Me | Part two | Professor!Michael Gavey x fem!student reader

summary: Suddenly, Michael felt vulnerable, exposed and fragile. Every year of love failure emerged drastically from a blocked corner of his heart. And he didn't like that.

a/n: sorry for the late update guys, I hope u all like it!

word count: 4k

tags: slow burn, power imbalance, slight angst

part one | ewanverse masterlist

Just this time.

It was a surprise for Michael when you showed interest in working with him. He hated being an idiot, he did, but he didn't expect a girl with your appearance to try so hard to work with him. He met many like you in his years of bachelor's degree; beautiful, cool, wealthy and socially successful thanks to daddy’s money. A privilege he never had. And he hated that. Hated it even more that most didn’t care enough about their own education while his life was molded in a continuous effort to obtain a small fraction of the success that his classmates had just because they were born into the right family.

The only thing he could count with was his mind. It's always been like that. And it was the reason for his hard-working social ascension.

Still, he knew that it was wrong to assume stereotypes at that point in life, but he couldn’t avoid such an association until you proved him to be more than deceived. Your performance was brilliant and your grades perfect, the complementary activities you performed were good, but they could be better. And he could do that; he could really elevate his experiences.

The only problem was you.

Well, him, actually.

He wasn’t good with women, he never was, not even with his ex-girlfriend.

He made improvements over the years, made good and loyal friends, although his love life had never fully geared. And that was a problem, because you didn’t present yourself as a love interest, even if his heart beat faster whenever you looked his way.

It was just loneliness, he tried to convince himself, and you were a gorgeous and smart girl. It was wrong, he knew, he was your bloody professor and that could never happen.

Michael truly made an effort not to get lost in those thoughts and not to abuse the power of his position. He didn't want to compromise the promising future in your relationship and that worked for a long time. Until that night.

The invitation to his flat was purely impulsive. The excuse he used? The biggest bullshit ever. And the most aggravating thing: you agreed with the idea. What the fuck was that?

He didn't believe it when you accepted the invitation. He didn't believe it when you entered his home. Not even when you leaned over to kiss him with fear and tenderness, or when he took off your clothes and touched your body, or when you were moaning below him.

Or when he couldn't stop thinking that night.

It's been three weeks since what happened, but his restless mind bombarded memories during all hours of the day.

Your voice, your face, your touch.

Kissing, touching, fucking.

Even in his dreams, you slept next to him since the rain did not allow your return home, waking up the other day with the most sensual shyness he has ever seen. It was necessary to activate all the locks on his body so that he wouldn’t have you again. He offered to take you home that morning, but there was nothing innocent in the request.

And then, there was the awkward feeling after the forbidden sex between co-workers. Obviously, as good adults none of you touched on the subject when you returned to lab, maintaining the false facade of normality, especially in front of Paul, his class of MMaths. Although only the necessary was said between the two of you, the exchanged glances revealed a bubbling intensity difficult to control, which consumed every active neuron in his brain.

He recognized the heat in your eyes, he believed it to be reciprocal, which made everything even more dangerous.

It can't happen again.

He tried to convince himself of that at least four times a day.

Another thing he often did again as soon as he got home was to masturbate. One, two, three times, like a horny teenager when watching bad porn. Thinking about you. Did you do the same when you remember of me? Did you want more? Because even though he refused to admit it, he wanted you.

═════════════════════

Michael was tired of correcting exams, exhausted, to be honest. His head and eyes hurt and a sudden need to stretch his legs made him get up from his office chair and go outside of the laboratory, which was separated by a door. However, something made him stop when he reached the handle.

"Oi, do you remember my friend James from physics? He asked if you're dating someone,” he heard Paul ask.

“Really?” You asked back.

"Yeah, he's really interested."

"Oh... I didn't expect that," you said, "well... I got involved with a person recently, it's complicated."

Fuck.

"I see, but if you decide to change your mind, let me know. I'm gonna have lunch, do you want something?”

“Nah, I'm good.”

“Okay, tell Michael I'll be back later.”

“Sure.”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

What the fuck he's supposed to do now?

At the same time that his body froze, the palms of his hands began to sweat and a brief panic filled his chest. How would he solve that problem? Did you expect something else to happen? Did you want it? Or was it just a polite refusal? His brain was working at a thousand per second while new unknowns emerged. He needed to talk to you, anything, but how? What was there to say about what happened? Cautiously, he opened the door in search of your presence and tried to stay calm when your eyes met his with a smile contained in your lips.

“Good afternoon professor, Paul has gone-” Fuck that.

"We need to talk," he interrupted you abruptly, nervously.

“... okay,” you murmured with big eyes, moving in the chair.

He took a deep breath, staring at you. "I heard what you said to Paul before he left. Was it about me?"

Your posture hardened under his eyes, your eyes widened with questioning. He got you. He was impassive to find out the truth, anxious, almost obsessed.

"Yes, it was," you replied with your eyes down.

Okay.

What next?

“... okay.” His mouth dried up and a large gray image formed in his mind. What should he say now?

Do you still think about what happened? About me?

"Do you want to say something else?" You broke the established uncomfortable silence, making him sigh and close his eyes. He wanted to touch you. Your face, your hair, your lips...

"We need to talk about what happened," he lowered his head in a low voice and less determined than before. Just stop tormenting my thoughts.

“I know, but I don't know what to say exactly,” your voice was firmer than before as you got up and to face it. “I don't regret what happened. I was attracted to you, you're handsome, intelligent, and I really wanted to do what I did.”

Really?

Did you really want to?

His reasoning froze. No woman had said such things before, never, not even his ex-girlfriend. And that caught him off guard. The appreciation in your words heated his heart and radiated through his cheeks like an embarrassed teenager. He didn't know how to deal with that feeling.

Suddenly, Michael felt vulnerable, exposed and fragile. Every year of love failure emerged drastically from a blocked corner of his heart.

And he didn't like that.

He didn't like to feel vulnerable, he didn't like to relive sensations that his brain couldn't contain.

“And I know can't happen again, you're my professor, you're new in here and that can fuck your job. I don't want that to happen,” you added.

"I know," he said after a while. "I don't regret it either," he touched the left side of your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb "Not a little."

He captured the moment your lips broke, remaining motionless in front of you, inhaling the charming and spring perfume you wore, feeling your hands lean on his chest while breathing deeper, closer and closer.

So close that your faces were almost together.

Who did he want to deceive? He wanted more. Your touch, your kiss, your scent.

And apparently you shared the same desire, since your lips collided against his fervently, wrapping your hand around the back of his neck. He reciprocated the kiss at the same intensity, holding your waist and back, moving his lips deliciously. Your fingers pushed the hair of the back of his head, making him sigh softly during the kiss, pulling you closer, needy for more of you.

Not giving time for the end, Michael started another kiss as he leaned your back against the bench, holding both sides of your face while exploring your mouth with his tongue. It was so good, so right, that he almost forgot about the inappropriate location. Almost. What made him break the kiss.

“Someone can come in at any moment,” he whispered against your lips, sighing again.

"What are we going to do about it?" You asked as you lean your face to his, eyes closing.

After that, he had solved that problem. Rationally? With all the implications in force, nothing should happen. Emotionally? He would go all the way, he wanted you.

But which choice would be appropriate?

And why did his heart stand out so much in that decision? Because suddenly, the consequences didn't matter. It was impulsive, he knows, but who cares?

"I don't want this to stop," he confessed, holding you close.

"Me neither," you whispered, looking directly into his eyes now.

When did it become so intimate?

═════════════════════

And then, sneaking into Michael Gavey's flat became your secret routine. Sometimes you would take an innocent ride with your professor when it was late. Sometimes he found you somewhere far from known presences. Sometimes you would go to his house on Saturday morning and come back on Sunday night. Despite the risk, you were addicted to his smell, his touch and his company (and having sex with him).

That spring afternoon, while you were talking about your hobbies, you told him about your culinary skills and the idea of making pizza for dinner was sudden and welcome. Obviously he didn't have any suitable refractory, but he offered to go to the utensils store that was two blocks away, leaving you with restless and palpable thoughts. What if someone found out? Discretion was essential among you, but affliction and fear were always lurking. He can't be fired because of me. I can't get involved with my advisor. Your heart burned with the present complication in the situation, making you fall dramatically on the couch. How easy was it to surrender to the impulses of the heart, even if improper and dangerous?

Fortunately Michael came back in time to avoid your nervous breakdown, finding you in your panties and one of his old T-shirts that said "that's how I roll".

Without you noticing, he spent a long time admiring you, still standing holding the bags with other useful utensils and a hard stick.

"Hey, sorry, I didn't hear you coming."

And then, you saw that look. That impulsive and almost animalistic side that he had under his methodical persona and that you loved.

You sucked him to the last drop when the bags fell to the floor, going to prepare the pizza dough excitedly afterwards, temporarily forgetting any previous fear of your relationship. As a good lover, Michael returned the favor and delighted himself between your thighs while the dough rested, pulling a white and hot orgasm from you.

"Did you like it?" He asked with a conscious smile, cleaning your sweet juices and leaning over to leave soft kisses on your forehead.

"Do you still ask?" You laughed breathlessly and wrapped yourself in his arms, resting your head against his chest, being packed by his hands afterwards.It was affectionate, intimate and calm.

“You looked great with my T-shirt, by the way,” he murmured against your hair, breathing your smell.

“It's quite nerdy, you know,” you mocked, tracing circles on his arm.

"We're nerds," he smiled and held you closer. “Two big fucking nerds.”

“Definitely.”

The following hours were lazy. The kitchen was pleasantly warm as you transferred the dough to the form while Michael separated the remaining ingredients. All Day and All The Night from The Kinks made you two hum and once in a while his hands circled your waist under protests so that he wouldn't burn the sauce. Although the softness of the situation pleasantly involved you, suddenly, a discharge of reality hit your heart and brain at the same time.

Cooking together, wearing his shirt, cuddling him. So intimate, so dangerous, for you and him both. Damn conscience that constantly reminded you of the fact. Or damn foolishness for letting that happen?

“You're okay?”

What?

“What? Oh- yeah, I - I’m just thinking a lot," you stuttered, lowering your head, trying not to leave loopholes in your behavior that could intrigue you.

“About what?” But when it comes to Michael Gavey, any detail was relevant.

But then, touches came from the door and freed you from making a lie that might not convince you. "I'll be right back," Michael murmured as he adjusted his glasses, leaving you alone with a glaring mind and a pizza to finish. Fortunately the manual work entertained most of your thoughts, although the sound of the door closing with Michael outside did not go unnoticed by you, much less the minutes he spent outside. Whatever was happening left you alert and tempted to spy, but as soon as the impulse was generated, a stunned and restless Michael entered the house.

“Something happened?” You looked at him worried, approaching.

His eyes were fixed on the ground below your feet, turbulent and apathetic expression, strong breathing and trembling hands.

"My ex-girlfriend showed up. She wanted to come in, talk..." he started, still looking down, "She left three years ago, just suddenly decided that didn't love me anymore and left." Oh God. "... I didn't expect that."

Jesus Christ.

Your hands shook his face immediately and pulled him for a hug. “I'm so sorry.”

He was reluctant to accept comfort before wrapping his arms in your body, taking a deep breath, cloistering you, supporting himself, falling down.

"I didn't expect her. I waited for a long time for her to regret and come back to me, but she changed her number, job and city. She just left and never looked back."

Unprepared, just like him, you tried your best to comfort him. "You didn't deserve that, Michael, I'm really sorry."

For a long, long time, you kept him in your arms, in silence and motionless, just holding him, protecting him, trimming him. You didn't immediately notice when he finally found your eyes, but when he did, he came across a hitherto unknown countenance where sadness, confusion and defeat mixed.

A version not yet seen, but so lost and sensitive that it made your heart hurt for him.

“Thank you,” he held your face with his hands keeping you close. Unfortunately, you knew that feeling very well. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Still part of his gaze remained turbulent, the man you admired so much seemed to have returned. “Just stay here.”

Who were you to deny that?

Even with the uncertainty about your relationship, you couldn't abandon him now, you couldn't complicate his head and heart, not after that, not when he needed you.

“Sure.”

The rest of the night was spent almost all in silence. You didn't want to address a painful subject for him, mainly because of his reaction after what happened. It was a complicated situation, especially when your own head was bubbling - however, the need to make him comfortable and know that he was well built strongly. "If you want to talk about what happened, I'll listen," you said during the break of a random episode of doctor who, snuggled up to him on the couch. For a long second, Michael remained silent, feeding your anxiety at the thought that he had gone too far.

"I relived what happened continuously for 745 days, spent a long time thinking about what happened, a really long time, until all the unknowns took the same answer. I'm tired of thinking or talking about her, but I appreciate your concern," he looked at you softly.

"Okay," you smiled and peaked your lips to his, diving back into the comfort of his chest.

═════════════════════

"So, how are things with Gavey?" Miranda asked casually, lying next to you in bed while texting someone.

You swallowed it deep, looking at the wall in front of you. Now, a fun fact: you had not yet told about your situation-ship with Michael.

You thought of several ways to introduce the subject, but no moment seemed right. It was very recent, very inappropriate, very risky. You knew she would never tell someone, much less judge, but a little fear accumulated in your mind. Obviously, the ideal moment would appear soon and you’d reveal your dirty secret. Until then, you would mislead her with an innocent lie.

“I'm fucking him.”

Or not.

“What?!” She almost jumped out of bed, turning completely to face you, her voice rising with each word. "Shut up! Are you serious?! When?! How?! I need all the details.”

And you told her. You told everything. From the first time to what happened to his ex. And of course she got pissed because you omitted the information for two months, but also understood your position.

“I can't fucking believe it, I really need daily updates about all this. I'm being serious.”

You laughed, but humor was the last thing felt.

"I don't know what to do, Miranda," you confessed. "I like Michael, I really do, I don’t know when it started, but what we are doing can generate negative consequences, especially for him, and I can't stop thinking about it. Every time I'm with him I think something can go wrong and it's driving me nuts."

“Oh honey...” She lamented, holding your hand.

"I know what I should do, rationally, but I really don't want to end things, I really like him. He's stabilized, handsome, funny in a very unique way and the sex? Fuck, it’s fucking good, and...” you looked down, “I just wish it wasn't so complicated.”

Taking it out of your chest brought great relief, but not even close to healing such anguish.

"Have you ever talked to him?"

"I wish I had said that night that his ex showed up, but the bitch fucked everything and I couldn't throw this bomb of sentimental confusion at him," you looked at her. "And I know myself, I have to talk to him before I get even more anxious and paranoid."

“Self-knowledge is a blessing,” she shook your hand with a comforting smile. "I’ll be here to support any decision you make."

“Thanks, honey.”

Venting with Miranda appeased part of your fears. That week you were determined to talk to Michael, even if the conclusion was bitter for both of you. It was painful to think about the end of the affair between you, but at the same time it would solve your emotional restlessness. Maybe it would be better this way, maybe all this would be nothing more than an adventure, an experience to be remembered. Maybe it would be better to extinguish the spark before it causes a fire.

Knowing each other very well, you knew that at any moment you would change your mind about your future, but you also knew what needed to be done. Therefore, when he invited you out on Friday night, you had already rehearsed how you would approach the subject.

But Michael decided to surprise you by taking you to dinner in an Italian restaurant far beyond your reality. He also anticipated your protest about the place, assuring that he would pay for everything.

“Oh gosh, no, you don't ne-“

“I insist, no need to worry.” And you knew well that there would be no discussion about it.

The cozy environment with partial lighting was not enough to mitigate the lack of belonging you felt as soon as you entered, but for your luck, everyone seemed too immersed in their worlds to perceive an intruder.

Away from other people, Michael and you sat face to face.

"That's quite a surprise," was the first thing you said when facing his beautiful blue eyes.

"This was the first restaurant I came to when I started making money, I don't know why, I just went ahead and decided to go in. I liked the feeling of being able to finally take the reins of my life, with my own money, and I want you to experience that too," he said, smiling softly at you.

"I'm here with your money," you remember him in a good mood.

"I know, but you'll have yours soon," he touched your hand on the table, watching the waiter politely approach the menu. "Choose what you want, don't care about the price."

And he mean that.

He asked for arancini balls for entry. Even though you’ve never tried it, what could go wrong with risotto balls stuffed with mozzarella cheese?

“So?” He asked excitedly.

"It's really good," you smiled, taking another little ball and leading it towards his mouth, making him laugh before putting everything in his mouth. “The other half was supposed to be mine, but I forgive you.”

"Let me fix that," he repeated the gesture, but you decided to surprise him by licking his finger while maintaining eye contact before eating the arancini. "Are you trying to make me hard in the middle of the restaurant?" He asked quietly, with a hint of fun.

"It's not my intention... yet."

As a main, you chose a classic lasagna and Michael a simple spaghetti bolognese, both accompanied by a Brunello di Montalcino. You weren't a big fan of wine, but you wanted to try the full Italian package.

It's time.

You just felt it.

You had to talk to him.

"So, I need to tell you something," you started, swallowing while you saw it partially hardened. "I... I'm afraid. I'm afraid that someone will find out about us, constantly, and it's driving me crazy. I like you, Michael, I really do, you're fucking intelligent, witty, handsome, but I don't want you to lose your job because of me, that would kill me and that's all I think lately."

He sighed hardly. Collecting his hands and looking down. "I know, this is fucking me too, I can't loose fucking my job.” Suddenly, he seemed nervous about your gaze, as if he was considering something. "I like you too and I don't want this to end, that's why I brought you here," he looked at you with tense eyes. “I think you deserve more than a quickie in my fucking office, you beautiful, smart, hardworking, and I want you to be my girlfriend. Officially.”

What?

“Officially?” You asked surprised, almost panting.

"Yes, I mean it, I want to make this right, I know we can't tell anyone until you graduate, but I want you to be my girlfriend, if you want to."

Whoa whoa. That's huge. Fucking huge. You needed to think about it. You spent weeks succumbing for fear of being caught with your professor, a relationship would certainly not alleviate the feeling, it would just get worse. You couldn't be impulsive and accept-

“Of course I fucking want to,” you almost yelled, holding his hand tightly. “But how we go-“

"The same way we're doing now."

Your chest squeezed with fear, making you look down before answering: "It's just... I don't want to harm you."

"Listen me, if something happens I'm guilty of wanting this situation, not you, it's my choice," he lightly shook your hand.

“I know I'm being paranoid,” you look at him, “But yes, Michael Gavey, I want to be your fucking girlfriend,” you smiled, feeling the famous butterflies in your stomach. "And we can always be more cautious."

He fixed his glasses and returned the smile, an adorable slight red glowing over his cheeks.

"We will.”

——————————————————————————

taglist: @venmondiese @re-per @anukulee @slytherincursebreaker @tulips2715 @rhaenyslay @angelinap09 @cupidelocke @aegonswife @fan-goddess @thenightmistress @deliaseastar @scarletbedlam @delightfulbluebirdstarlight @arcielee @eponaartemisa @donut-seam @marjorieisreading @aemonds-holy-milk @michaels-holy-malik

my beta reader: @moris-auri 💙

[theblueflower05]

Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea

(Part Three of the First Love/Late Spring series)

A/N: This is a monster of a part. I thought about splitting it into two but it just wouldn’t make sense to the story! I hope you babies like it.

Word Count: 10+ (holy fuck)

Warnings: This story is smut filled. All future installments of this story will be explicit.

You are responsible for cultivating your own online experience, please do not interact if any of these tags are triggering to you. Minors DNI.

Oral(female & male receiving), fingerfucking. Penetrative sex. Breeding. Talks of anal. Spanking. Cum eating. Dirty talking. A bit of exhibitionism if ya squint. Pretty much all the sexy sexual things you can imagine.

Summary: You and Neteyam move into your new home and spend your first Fertility Season together. Neteyam x Metkayina Reader

Series Masterlist (all parts can be found here)

Previous:<Crawling Back to You

Next:> Part Four (currently unnamed)

Honey, I belong with you

And only you babe.

Only you my girl. Only you, babe.

Only you darling. Only you- Dark Red, Steve Lacy

You had never been good with change.

Your steadfast nature flourished in routine. You found happiness in the known. In your corner of the world, mixing tinctures and tending to your clan. You’d been well aware of your role from a young age, had thought you’d understood the great mother’s plan for your life-

And then the Sully’s had ridden in on the strong east wind.

There had been invisible strings at play.

Unbeknownst to you fate had threaded you to a future that you couldn't have foreseen even in your wildest dreams. Entangled your heartlines with the last person you ever would’ve expected-

You think about the fact as you stare out at the choppy sea. Your hands are busy collecting the last of your belongings, but your mind is far away. Distracted and restless as the storms that gather along the coastline. The sky is dark and rain already falls in a light misting.

Fertility Season is here, palpable as it rolls over the village of Awa’atlu.

You’ve never experienced it this way, always a spectator and never a participant. Normally at this time of year you’d be preparing to assist the other villagers through the week of haze induced mating. Being bogged down by wet weather and running from Mauri to Mauri had always been exhausting, but still. You knew how to do it, we’re accustomed to what was expected of you when a healer was needed.

What would be expected of you as a mate?

The thought excites you and terrifies you all the same.

You want to be with Neteyam. There is no question about the fact. You crave him in a way that you didn't know was possible. Carnal and inescapable. Being with him is as easy as breathing,

It’s everything else that’s harder.

You’re an adult now, have been for years, yet you still live in your family home. It’s not that you had been forced to stay. Ao’nung had taken his leave after his rite; his hut more of a bachelor pad than anything. He still came to his parents home daily to raid their food stores and have his mother touch up his braids- but still. He’d jumped fearlessly into independence and had been living on his own for over a year.

All you’d ever known lived inside these walls.

Your Uncle Tonowari and Aunt Ronal had taken you in at such a young age that you don’t really remember anything else. You’d slept in the same bed since you were a childling, in your secluded little corner. Decorated with all of your trinkets and shrouded in familiarity, you’d loved your space.

It was safety incarnate.

And you leaving was difficult, for everyone.

It would’ve happened one day, a necessary step towards adulthood that all had to take and yet as you took your turn you couldn't help but be a bit devastated. It felt like a shock to your system, gathering everything you’d accumulated and preparing to leave.

After Fertility Season, you wouldn't return. You’d never sleep under this roof again.

You and Neteyam would start to build your life together- and you’d do so in your own home.

It wasn't even as though you were going far, the vacated mauri that Tonowari had granted you permission to claim was mere meters away, still in the heart of the village. The move wasn't a major one, and would take no time at all. Nothing like the way the Sully’s had been forced to uproot and leave everything they’d ever known.

There was no reason for you to act like a baby about it. So don't allow yourself to.

Even with all of the swirling questions plaguing you, you put on a brave face. Kept it all smiles and reassuring nods. This was all going to be just fine.

Right?

Right.

It’s too busy a time of year for your Aunt and Uncle to be housebound. They tend to the people, attention occupied by assuring the good of the clan. Of course they had given you all of their love before leaving to fulfill their many duties as Olo’eyktan and Tsahik-

Ronal had been stony about your coming of age. Very helpful, sending you back and forth with arms full of supplies and many words of advice. Tonowari on the other hand had played at being unaffected- charitable as ever. Smiling the whole way, reminding you of how proud of you he is at every turn. You pretended not to see the mist in his eyes that he furiously wiped away when he thought you weren't looking.

Tsireya has tears, silent but steady, rolling down her face the entire time you prepare to leave.

She helps you pack and reassures you that she’s fine. She’s so happy for you, yet still. She sniffles paws at her nose every few moments, no matter how many reassuring words you give her.

“You’ll be fine” you hum, gathering the last of your herbs, the tiny vials clinking together as you toss them in with the rest of your things . “Aren't you excited that you get the bigger bed space now?”

She just shoots you a wet smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

Your baby.

Your sweetest girl.

It wouldn't be long before she was leaving the nest herself, but you don't remind her of that fact, you just embrace her tight instead.

Finally, with the large woven basket in your arms, full to the brim, you step out into the rain.

It's chillier then it usually gets on the island. The humidity and wind creating a cold that clings to your bones. You bound quickly down the buoyant netting. Everyone seems to be out, even with the weather- getting their affairs in order. It was going to be a long week- and the village was a buzz. Everyone flitting around, focused in on making sure their loved ones would be well taken care of.

It’s a bit embarrassing, the attention that you receive.

Well meaning clans members give you their blessings in spades. Tight hugs and words of well wishes. Whispered advice and wrapped parcels of food.

A group of Elders who you have known since birth stop you in your tracks. Their hands on your back, your chest, your arms, as they chant over you.

They ask the Great Mother to look over you during this season, to bless you with strong babies and healthy pregnancies. Their knowing smiles are both encouraging and mortifying.

“Your man sure is handsome” Ch’kal, a wrinkled woman with striking silver streaked into her long dark hair, starts “But do they not feed them in the forest? He’s so skinny, isn't he? I’ll give you our families recipe for Lomia-lok(cabbage like rice roll) Put some meat on his bones”

You want to argue that Neteyam’s not skinny, he’s lean. All muscle and sinew, he was stronger than he looked.

Instead you respond cordially “I will gladly take it, thank you for the offering”

“No worry, the skinny ones always have the biggest surprises under their twengs. My muntxa was a scrawny thing and look at how many little ones he gave me” She continues, a mischievous spark twinkling in her eye. Known for her unbridled, silver tongue. “You know what they say, you can’t judge the fruit by the tree”

You can feel the blush rise on your cheeks as images from the beach flash before your eyes.

She had no idea just how…well endowed your future mate truly is. His cock had felt so good in your hand, better than anything you had ever encountered. Huge and hard and all yours.

You keep that fact a secret, hold it tight to your chest as you break away from the crowds.

Lots of the homes of young couples have already been barred off. Their drapes pulled shut and wicker entry blinds secured tightly closed. A thin attempt of privacy. It does little to shelter the sounds of coupling coming from inside. Breathy moans and grunts could be heard, nearly drowned out by the whipping wind.

It was just the beginning. Fertility Season was known to be loud, your people not shy at all when it came to pleasure.

Eager to get out of the rain that only seems to get heavier as the hours pass, you duck down the netted pathway.

Your clan is lucky for the reefs, their protective cushion keeps the village from ever feeling the full fury of the storms.

Even still, by the time you’re at the mouth of your new home, you’re drenched. Your hair clinging to your back uncomfortably as you get to quick work.

The graciously given pod is something of a fixer upper.

Had been used for storage but cleared promptly when you and Neteyam formally announced your courtship. He wouldn't have to build a Mauri from nothing, but even then. It would be a while before the space felt your own. The bare walls unnerve you a bit.

A sturdy roof is all that's truly needed and it had been patched up just fine. The fire that Neteyam had started earlier crackles warmly, a pleasant welcoming as you dry yourself off.

The firepit in the center has been cleared of soot and debris and topped by sturdy rods that hold a ready to use skillet and hand-me-down stew pots. There’s baskets of fresh fruit and dried meat placed in rows near the jugs of fresh water, you suspect that neat work had been Neteyam’s mothers doing. Neytiri had been a great help in the relocation process. You still felt a bit awkward in her strong, silent presence but we’re no less grateful for the offered assistance.

A bed mat, thick and large enough for two sits in the back corner. Already piled with an accumulation of Metkayinan and Omaticayan woven bedding. You admire the foreign patterns that make up Neteyams quilts. They look cozy, so much thicker than your own thinner blankets.

You sink down, resting on your shins as you begin to arrange them. The need to nest is instinctual, deep rooted and you move on auto pilot as you straighten out the bedding. It had to be perfect, the home. Your bed. And it would be, had the potential to be.

Yes, it’s a little bit of a mess.

The collection of you and Neteyam’s things strewn out across most of the visible floorspace, not yet put carefully away and sorted. It’s also far smaller than what you’d grown up in. Kind of rickety and worn down-

But it’s yours. You would live an entire life here. You get lost in imagining it; raising children, growing old. Spending years cultivating endless memories- maybe you’d build onto the structure? Expand the pod, depending on how many children you have-

“Fucking hell” Neteyam curses in his fathers foreign tongue as he rushes through the entrance, quickly latching the canvas and wicker flap across the doorframe behind him. Securing your home against the stirring elements.

His arms are full and he’s soaked from the storm. Rivulets of rain water race down his sculpted body and you try not to be too obvious as you gawk at him.

He’s just so good looking, it really is unfair.

“It’s really starting to pour out there”

“Yes, I was worried you might of drowned” You grin back at him, loving the

“Ha, ha” Neteyam teases as he goes to drop the baskets full of food down by all of the others “It’s my mom. She wont stop. I keep trying to tell her that we will be fed for weeks but she just won't hear it. ”

“I think it's sweet” you hum as you watch the planes of his back, the muscles bunching as he bends down to arrange the fruit.

He’s so strong, holds it in his back and broad shoulders. You ache to run your fingers along his long spine.

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip hard as you continue working at the bedding. Trying to get the blankets to lay just right. You don’t think it will truly be done until you and Neteyam’s scents are saturating every inch of fabric, but still. It’s good right?

All you want to do is drag him down, make him roll around in the bed mat. It’s too firm, not broken in yet. You need him to plow you into it, if only to soften it up a little.

Your thoughts had been horribly vulgar since that night at the beach. Vivid in a way that had you losing yourself to them often.

It had only been two eclipse’s since, but the days had been long and filled with rushed preparations. Neteyam had been preoccupied with making sure the Mauri was livable, that it was comfortable enough to house you, comfortably, for the duration of the coming week. Both of you would be lost to your hormones soon, it was best to get it all done while he still had his wits about him.

The spaces between intimacy make you anxious and antsy. You question yourself, every touch and word. He’d made it more than clear that he wanted to be with you but what exactly did that mean? Could you just touch him, however you wanted, whenever you wanted? You’d never shared that with a man and knew you had a while to go before the awkwardness of it all faded.

Neteyam’s presence breaks you out of your thoughts, a big hand coming to rest on your shoulder. Palm warm as he looms behind you “It looks good, yawne.”

A surge of pride runs through you, makes your fingertips tingle and tail swish slowly “Really? You don’t think it needs more blankets? I could hunt some down-”

His chuckle is low, deep. So gentle as he croutches down until he’s nuzzling your hair, speaking his next words so close to your ear that it flicks with the whisper of contact.

“There’s no need for that, it’s perfect. Such nice little nest for us to spend the season in”

How does he always know just what to say?

You lean into him heavily, your back meeting his chest. Stomach fluttering with excitement at the contact. You’ve wanted to be in his arms since leaving them and are pretty sure that this could become an addiction. Being so close to him was heady, you’re not sure if it’s the electric energy in the air- or if its just HIM.

His hands slide from your shoulder, skimming across your chest. Massaging your flesh with the pads of his fingers. Your heart flutters hummingbird fast as he thumbs at your collarbone and a small gasp leaves you as his fingers start to slip down into your skimpy top.

It’s been so hard, keeping your mind from sinking under the haze of Fertility Season. So many of your peers are gone to it. Completely to their hormones, tucked away together as the storms batter the shore.

His touches leave fire in their wake, warm you up from the inside out and melt what little control you have left. You’d been good, hadn’t you? Gotten everything in order, all of your responsibilities were squared away. You could just…have this. Have him, and your small home and the rising heat between you.

“Need you” you whisper as he begins to palm at your breast, rubbing a callused palm over the hardening bud of your nipple over and over again.

“Need me how?” Neteyam presses, not stoping his insistent groping “‘What do you need, yawntutsyip(darling)? My mouth, my hands? My cock?”

You choke on your own tongue, startled by both Neteyam’s raunchy words and the fact that he pinches your sensitive nipple hard as he speaks them.

In all reality, you want it all. Want to ride his fingers again, and feel his mouth all over you. You’d dreamt, so vividly, about his head between your thighs-

All of those pale in comparison to what you truly crave.

‘It’s the skinny ones that always have the biggest secrets under their twengs’

You maneuver in his hold, twisting until you come face to face with exactly what you desire.

With him standing, straightening out to his full height, and you still resting on your knees, your eye level with the prize. Saliva pools in your mouth as you lean in, sucking in deep lungfuls of his scent. Its so strong at his groin that even concealed by his tweng, it still fills your nostrils in fragrant plumes.

So virile and potent that your womb throbs sparply, empty and wanting.

You nuzzle between his legs, nosing eagerly at his covered bulge. When you begin wetting the cloth of with your open mouth kisses and wandering tongue, Neteyam winds his hands in your hair and tugs your gaze up to his-

He’s more than happy to let you explore and get your fill but the lack of skin to skin contact is driving him crazy. His amber eyes are low, his belly concaving with his quickening breath.

“Baby, you’re killing me” he whispers whinely and a feline like grin stretches across your face.

“We can't have my mighty warrior dying on me, now” you croon at him, your small hands running up his strong legs. His muscles bunch under your touch, his thighs firm up, tightening in anticipation “I just wanna...Can’t I have a little taste?”

When you cup where he’s chubbing up, he hisses warningly between his clenched teeth, his fingers tightening in your hair-a thinly veiled warning. You just continue to give him that innocent little look.

Neteyam reaches for the leather bound knots of his covering, tugging on them harshly to free himself from the increasingly tight constraints, its hard to wiggle out of it. Especially when you keep reaching for his swelling balls with deft fingers, your hand tucked in between his thighs-

“Y/N!”

You giggle at his tone, at the shrill warning as the tips of your nails scritch his delicate taint.

Neteyam is huge. His cock is as dark as the rest of his svelte body, but blooms rosy purple at the crown of his swollen head. Longer than it is thick, a bead of thin opaline precum oozes from his slit.

You hum in the back of your throat, swallowing thickly around the saliva that pools your mouth. You can smell his sex, smell his essence rolling off of him and it’s dizzying.

You’re absolutely overwhelmed by it. It triggers something deep and primal. You want to roll around in this smell, want him to cover your body in it.

“You smell really good” you whimper, face coming to rest in the crease of his groin “Eywa, Neteyam- I-I want-fuck“

He hums, the hand still in your hair turns comforting. Pats at your head like your a child. “You wanted to taste, didn’t you?”

“Mmhm” you squeak, inhaling deep lungful's of his rich aroma.

“Then taste, sevin(pretty girl). Here” he pulls you from his center, hold your head, guiding it until your lips hover his top “stick your tongue out-“

The grunt that leaves him sounds like it was punched right from his stomach.

You don’t stick your tongue out-it’s more you take as much of him as you can into your eager mouth. You want his taste down your throat, want to guzzle it straight from the source.

The sensations are exciting and new. Having something so big in your mouth is admittedly a bit awkward, but the flavor that your rewarded with more than up for it. His skin is musky and warm-cut only by the sharp tang of the precum pouring out of him.

“Slow down, damn it- don’t-” Neteyam calves burn, struggling to stay upright as you attack him. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

You’re so hungry for it, gagging yourself harshly on his member. The sounds that erupt from your chest are animalistic, needy and a bit pathetic. You whine for him, knowing somewhere deep that you need his come inside of you.

He’s trying to keep his wits about him, really he is. Trying to guide you through it

“Breathe through your nose, aht. Just like that”

“Not so much teeth, a little gentlier”

“Deep-too deep! Not so deep!”

Between the sounds of your gagging and the little bobs of your head, Neteyam’s losing it. His hips chasing the sweet suction of your hollowed lips, his tip hitting the back of your throat. The rhythm is sloppy and it only takes one odd, pointed thrust to make you choke raggedly..

You cough, pulling off him.

Your sucking had been messy and clumsy, you smear spit all over his groin. Your chin shiny slick when you pull away for a much needed breath.

Neteyam is panting harsley, his face screwed tight in concentration.

“Am I doing okay?”

You’ve never done this part, and that idea that you might be doing it wrong gnaws at you. It’s a familiar uncertainty, one that you’d been warring with since you’d met the darker Na’vi. Neteyam was so sure- so good at all things, and while his competency was part of his appeal, it made you worried that he might realize just how fucking unexperienced you are.

His eyes open, fingers unclenching from the fist in your hair and coming to cup your jaw. You kiss his thumb when it runs across your lips, chase it with the tip of your tongue.

“You’re being such a good girl for me, Y/N. You almost made me come, I was barely able to catch myself”

The sensations stirring in your belly makes you groan, hug his legs tighter, your head pressed against his lower belly. The praise makes you feel lightheaded. Very much like you aren't really in this moment-

He clocks the slight change, on the way you’re clinging to him. He suddenly doesn't want the power dynamic, he doesn't want to leer over you any longer. Not with the sweet little nest you’d made right there just waiting to be used

“Is that what you wanted?” Neteyam wonders as he herds you, gentle but sure, back into the tangle of blankets. You go willingly, back resting against the padding, “To make me come?”

He likes this so much better. You all burrowed into the covers. He wants to pur at the sight of you, wants to dig you deeper into the nest. Cover your body with his own and never let you out.

“Mhmm” you stare up at him with big eyes. “O-of course I did. I want to know that I can bring you pleasure”

At his strong body as he crouches, shuffling forward on his knees. He’s as naked as the day Eywa brought him into this world. He’s something out of an ancient song, so bewitchingly beautiful. All of those sharp, jagged angles-

And yet he smiles at you so tenderly.

“You’re so sweet” Neteyam’s voice is a honeyed croon “Always trying to make me feel good. But I need you to feel good too- I need you to be comfortable with me”

“I am comfortable with you-”

“Are you?” Neteyam inquires, his hands skimming up your legs that are spread round his waist. Starting near your ankles, his palms skim up the firm lines of your calves, trace your knees. So patient in his exploration of your turquoise skin.

You’re panting shallowly at his touch on your thighs.

His bony fingers play with the plush flesh, digging into where your blubber meets hip. Squeezing at curiously. You feel exposed, giddy and scared at letting him touch you.

It’s not like that night at the beach. Not rushed in the shadows.

He takes his time, his golden iris’ searing in the fire light as he appraises you. You’ve never felt…so seen. You’d never had anyone take the time to look at you, like this. Boys in the clan had shot you greedy glances as you matured and came of age and as the niece of the reigning Olo’eyktan, you’d become accustomed to having eyes watching your movements, judging- positively or negatively you never really knew.

It makes you want to run, that look on his face. All intense, focused in only on you. It’s too much, you want to curl into a ball. Away from all of this attention. Want to read his mind- try to understand what he’s seeing. What he wants.

So you can give it to him.

His fingers reach for your embroidered tweng, nimbly working the knots.

“Nete?” you breathe, your voice shaky with nerves.

Still, you raise your hips. Helping him slip the fabric from your body.

The inside of your thighs shine in the flickering glow. The juncture of your body sticky and ready for him. His nostrils flare, his thin tail shoots straight in the air. Stock still.

He’s breathing hard, gulping in lungful's of the air that's swimming with the scent of your pheromones. The scent of your wet cunt.

Emboldened by the sight you spread your legs, knees falling open. Revealing where you're hot and pulsing. The baby blue lips of your pussy are puffy, unfurling into a pretty rosy color as you bare your insides to him. Your hole twitches, pulses with your racing heart rate.

His gaze on the most hidden part of yourself makes you hot. It's secret, just for him. Just for his big honeyed eyes.

You reach down, spreading yourself with your fingers- your hard clit poking out of its little hood in a way that has Neteyam groaning. His shoulders shaking as he turns his head- like he just can't bare the view. You fingering your own cunt, spreading it wide for him would be burned into his corneas for the rest of his days.

Your fingers are soaked, barley dipped into yourself yet covered in your own arousal. You bring them up to Neteyams quivering lips-

He gasps, gaze snapping back to yours as you wipe your shiny slick over his cupids bow.

“Fuuuuuck” he hisses, grabbing your thin wrist bruisingly hard. Holding your feminine hand to his face, helping you to rub your wetness along his mouth.

You’re in love with him.

You have been for months. Your heart had pined for this moment. To share this with him, to be able to scent him. To hold him. To mate him.

You don't have it in you to wait any longer.

“Please” you gasp as his hot tongue delves between your fingers, tracing your knuckles.

“Please what?” he mumbles, his mouth busy collecting any and all of your essence that he could reach.

You’re overwhelmed, shaking. You think you may start crying- your eyes sting harshly. As harsh as the sting of your empty womb. “I-I-I don't know. Please. Just please-”

A flash of lightning strikes across the sky outside, so bright that the pod lights up for a moment with its vicious neon purple glow.

The two of you look at each other in a light that's new, foreign. His long dark braids look something like a halo.

Neteyam can see the tears gathering in your eyes. The desperation in the green orbs.

“Y/N” He breathes, lowering his head to yours. His forehead resting against your own as he clutches your hand from his mouth to his chest so that you can feel the way that it's racing. “oel ngati kameie. I’ve only ever seen you-”

You gasp, lips searching for his.

He repeats it into the pecking kisses. He wants you to know, to understand that this was all he’d ever wanted.

A woman, warm and loving and all his, in his bed.

He’d laid bruised and bloody on the battlefield dreaming of this. Thinking that it was too far out of his reach, that he could never have it. Though the woman in his fantasies face had always been blurry- he knew it had always only been you. Eywa had plucked him from the forest, from everything he knew, and plopped him in the middle of the ocean.

To bring him to you

You reach for your kuru, the thick braid easy to find in your loose hair. You need this, before he slips into your body you need to be connected to his soul. You’re gagging for it, shaking as you offer him everything you have to give.

Neteyam brings his own kuru over his shoulder and your stomach flops dangerously.

There’s a moment of stillness.

The storm rages steadily outside, the platter of rain on the canvas roof consistent. The howling of the wind strong- and yet all you can hear is your own heartbeat. Neteyams breathing. There are no more words to be spoken. No, they’d only get in the way. What the two of you are doing is ancient, older than Pandora itself. Its the base for all life, for all connection.

The tendrils at the end of your kuru glow, a lilac haze as they reach desperately for Neteyams own. Straining, writhing in a way that you’d never experienced.

Only calming as they connect with what they truly want. They bind together seamlessly, and the bond is sealed.

Tsaheylu is made.

The air is forced from your lungs in a breathless whimper at the contact. You can hear Neteyams own sounds too. But no, that's not really it.

You’re not hearing him, you’re feeling him.

His soul, his essence is bright and dancing. He’s stronger then anything you’ve ever felt, instantly seeping bone deep. He feels like the forest at dawn, like the last moment before the evening eclipse over the ocean.

You’d heard stories of the first time mates make Tsaheylu. Of course you had. Some had been dirty and scandalous, leaving you blushing. But most had been whispers of reverence.

There was nothing like it. Being connected to another Na’vi body, mind and soul was an experience that no one could truly put into words.

You get it now.

It's all consuming. Overwhelming. Euphoric in a way that you didn't know could exist.

You and Neteyam blur. You’re not sure where he ends and you begin.

His forehead grits against yours as he pants, lost to the sensation of you. Of him. Of the bond.

His arms twine around your middle, hauling you as close as possible. He wants to crawl into your skin, wants to dig so deep into you that he will never return to the outside world. He’s only yours, from now until the day he returns to the All Mother.

“I’m yours” you reply through the haze. The words spill through the neurological connection. He doesn't need to speak them out loud.

And neither do you. You needn't tell him what you want. He can feel it, can feel the hot pulsing of your desperate cunt. He grabs ahold of his hard cock and leads it to where you need him. He doesn't even need to look, though a part of him wants to watch you take it.

You cry out as you’re breached for the first time. Your virgnally tight body clinging to every inch of him as he sinks slowly into you. The sensations new and dizzying. Everything is too much, and at the same time not enough. Your arms are wrapped tightly around his neck as you choke on the stretch of it all.

“You have to relax for me, shh, it's okay. Don't tense up or else it will hurt more” He soothes you, because he can feel it all. Tsaheylu a feedback loop. It hurts, there’s no way for him to have completely eliminated the pain. But he works you slowly through it. Let's you take all the time you need as he carves out his place within your body.

His sharp hip bones meet yours and you shudder.

“You okay?” he worries as you shift against the large intrusion. Your hips shifting, testing. You just shake your head and bury it in his neck. Eyes screwed tightly shut as you try to adjust to him.

It takes a long moment for the burn to fade from pain…to something else. Something itchy and nagging.

“Mmm” your hips move in slow, restless, circles. Electric shocks racing up your spine, flowing through your kuru as his heavy length rubs a spot within you that feels so good “Move, ugh, move”

“Slowly” Neteyam starts to adhere to your plea’s. Trying not to give into his need to snap into you.

“Cant-ah. Feels so weird” you grunt, trying to nail that place inside of you again. Your gummy walls pulse around him, your body begging him to help. To make you feel good. “Move, move. Please, I need you to move faster”

“So fucking tight” he gasps as he pulls out, only able to get about halfway free, before your strong hole is sucking him right back in. “Never felt anything so tight”

He feels your flare of jealousy, uncomfortably hot, through the bond.

“Never- you can't be with anyone else again” you warn him through shuttered breath. Your nails digging into the smooth skin on the back of his neck, under his braids.

“My love-” his amused chuckle tickles your ear.

“No. You can never even look at anyone else again. You’re only mine” you seethe, your hips grinding into his dangerously. Encouraging him to take you. To pound into you the way you needed him to. “I’ll kill them”

Neteyam's groan echoes around the space of your newly shared home.

His thrusts grow strong, careless. Pulling out and then sinking back into your squelching heat, all the way to the hilt. Your body's jerk with the rhythm of his fucking. You hold on tightly for the ride, your knees hugging at his ribs as you give him all the room he needs to move inside of you.

His tip bully’s it’s way deep, too deep. You wail as it kisses your cervix. That sharp pain back, combined with the pleasure it was unbearable.

“Ah” you arch into the sensation, confused at the way your body welcomes it even though it stings, and feels scarily new. Neteyam grabs your left leg, raises it high until your calf rests on his shoulder.

Your eyes cross, your mouth falls open in a wordless gasp.

Everytime you try to suck in a breath, he fills you right back up. Hits that secretive, sensitive spot relentlessly. Its maddening, makes you shake all over-

“Neteyam” you warn, reaching for his hand. He just grabs your fingers, pins your arm over your head, hand held captive by his fingers as he starters down at you.

“Yeah? Are you there?” His thrusts turn very pointed, deliberate “Come for me, come all over me”

You’re tightening up quickly, screeching as you clench around his plowing cock. The waves of pleasure are almost too much, feels too good. Your stomach quivers, and it’s like you dove from the highest cliff as you’re struck by your first orgasm.

It’s so good you can taste it-

-You choke on it as Neteyam continues his relentless pace. Not slowing down even a little bit as you struggle. Left hypersensitive, still pulsing around him as your orgasm is drawn out. Never ending. You’re blubbering, trying to ground yourself, holding onto him as he pistons inside of you.

His panting breaths are damp as he hides in the skin of your neck.

Holds his body to yours as he works himself to his release. One of his hands still keeps your arm pinned above your head- the other works his way to your leg that’s loose around his hips. Props it up to join the other, so that both of your legs dangle over his broad shoulders. Bends you into a mating press that has you screaming. Truly unable to take in a breath as he displays all that strength of his- and holds you down. Makes you take what you’d wanted to much.

It doesn't take much at all- when his sharp canines graze your shoulder you’re gone for. You don't think you’d truly come down from the last orgasm when you fall into another. You can't even take in a breath to make sound, you just wheeze as you come.

Neteyam had wanted this to be special. Had wanted to do it right- to mate you the way that your ancestors had intended.

As he bites into your shoulder, his teeth breaking the skin- he seals the bond. Its painful, and the sharp metallic twang of your blood fills his mouth as he fills your pussy with his seed.

His groin presses against yours, holding you still. Keeping the rivers of his release inside of you. You're whimpering and twitching, yet still he pins you.

His warm, slippery tongue laves against the sluggishly bleeding wound.

He hopes that it sticks.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

The hours drone by and day turns to night, the dusk not bringing an end to the storms. If anything they get louder. The rain falling heavier, thunder roaring startlingly. You are so beyond fucking glad that you don't have to brave it, that you instead get to laze in bed. Wrapped up in warm, worn blankets.

Your body melts into Neteyam’s as he massages every inch of exposed skin. His strong fingers digging into your tired muscles as you lounge against him, cheek laid comfortably on his chest.

You feel boneless, but also more powerful than you ever have before. You’re a woman mated now. All of those seasons spent alone, all of the whispers. They don't matter now.

You have a mate.

You hug Neteyams waist a little tighter, hiding your smile in his dark skin.

He chuckles, can feel how proud you are of yourself through the bond. He hasn't bothered to disconnect your kuru’s after he’d slipped out of you, not ready to release the Tsaheylu. You we’re more then happy to be connected for him for as long as he liked.

You think you might enjoy this part as much as the sex. The afterwards is soft, he attendants to you diligently. You can feel his affection pour off of him in waves. It's thrilling, all of it. This whole day had been filled with fresh experiences. You feel brand new, a different side of yourself coming to the surface.

You’d never been anyone’s lover before.

It makes you all giddy and excited, being his. Having him be yours.

You tell him things you’d never told another soul, not even Tsireya. All your secrets come flowing out of you like a babbling brooke. You want him to know all of you, even the embarrassing scary parts.

“I can see it” He chuckles heartily at the story from your childhood. The one about a bet gone wrong, one where Roxto had been drug down the depths by an angry mother Kapapal(octopus). You’d jumped in after him even though you we’re smaller then a shell shocked Ao’nung, it had all ended in a cloud of black ink that had stained your skin for weeks “You’re my brave little warrior, aren't you?”

“You are the brave one between the two of us. It’s not every tsamsiyu (warrior) that can pass two Iknimaya”

Neteyam shrugs, his hands working on a knot between your shoulder blades “Things like that have never been hard for me. It's simple when there's a task that I can see the end of. It’s like- that is the way my mind works. Anything can be done if you keep your head down and figure out a way whether through. Lo’ak calls me a bootlicker for it. Maybe he’s right, I do not know”

Your fingers dance along a raised, jagged scar. It's on his lower stomach, stretched out across his right hip. It had to have hurt, even now you can feel how deep the scar tissue runs. His body is littered with them. Little tokens from the war. It hurts you that his learned coping mechanism is essentially just sticking it out. Bracing himself against the pain and swallowing it down.

He’d never have to do that again. Not with you.

You cup his jaw “Your brothers not the brightest ilu in the pod, I wouldn't pay any mind to his opinions. It’s why I’m glad that him and Ao’nung are friends now- their voices cancel eachother out”

Neteyams laughter is ringing and contagious.

He’s beautiful when he’s given the opportunity to be vulnerable. When he’s not weighed down with the weight of all of his responsibilities. His eyes glitter when he talks about the forest, about his grandmother and the Omiticaya people. About the vast mountain ranges and dense, endless greenery.

Even when he speaks of the war and training, its not with the sadness that you know you’d be overcome with if you ever had to face such adversities. He was good at following orders and giving them, had an entire air fleet that was at his control.

He mentions a name a few times. A female name. You can help but notice it.

And its stupid. Really it is, but you recall how he'd said you were the tightest he’d ever been with. How many women had be been with, back home? You knew that he wasn't a virgin. He’d never put up that front with you but still-

You busy yourself with the still raw tattoo that sprawls over his right arm. Across his shoulder and down his bicep. It’s still hot and healing. Easy for you to focus on, your withdrawing nature flaring up protectively. You’d rather focus on tending to his wounds then being stupidly upset about his past romps.

You retreat from his arms with a small smile, gently breaking Tsaheylu-

“Hey!” Neteyam protests, reaching to pull you back, but you just giggle at his antics. Standing up and scurrying to the other side of the hut.

Your belongings were scattered all over the place- but still. You dig for the little jar. Giving a triumphant little “aha” when you find it.

He pouts as you plop back down next to him, demanding you give you his arm.

“It’ll get infected if you don't take care of it” you warn as you spread the viscous liquid over the slightly raised ink. Rubbing it into his skin, blowing on it when he hisses about the sting. Kelp Jelly tended to do that. Still, he leans into your touch.

“Let me put some on your shoulder” he requests when you’re finished nodding at the scabbing bite on the juncture where your shoulder met your neck. You allow him to dip his long fingers into the jar, to spread it over your own wound.

“Did I upset you?”

“No”

“Liar” he sighs, working the jelly in a thick layer “I felt it through Tsaheylu. Was it the war? I don't have to talk about that if you don't want me to”

“Of course it wasnt that…” your lips purse as you try to pick your words in a way that will least embarrass you. Try and fail. “Who’s Zeytawni?”

Neteyam gives you a long blank look before a smile cracks across his handsome face. His braids sway as he shakes his head, his thumb brushes soothingly at the skin around the bite.

“You are the most jealous woman I’ve ever met” He’s extremely amused, it makes your cheeks burn and a haughty protest raise in your throat.

“I am not! And if I was-am I not rightfully jealous? The two of you we’re obviously close” you splutter because it's not fair! That it’s all a joke to him. You’re always so flustered and he’s always so collected “I know that you have had…women. I get to be curious about that. I’ve never had partners the way that you have. I don't have anything to compare it to-”

“Stop” Neteyam’s voice is sage but demanding. He puts the jar of healing salve down beside him- before his fingers spread across your bare breast bone. Pressing his palm firmly against your heart.

“There’s nothing to compare. Nothing at all. Please do not ever break the bond again before you ask me about other women. You could’ve have felt for yourself what I feel about all of this.”

Your mouth quirks as you roll his words over in your head. You know he’s right- that you had a one way ticket into his head just moments ago. But maybe you’d been scared about what you’d find. Still naively clinging on to your insecurity.

“I'm just not very experienced. You know that. I’d barely done anything with anyone before you” You whisper, feeling smaller than you we’re.

“That’s…not a bad thing. Not for me. I don't like the idea of anyone else touching you” Neteyam reassures you, but his jaw smarts. Like even thinking about this makes him a little sick.

You get a little thrill out of it “Why? Are you…jealous?”

He snorts. His amber eyes boring into yours for a moment before he speaks “You know exactly how I feel about the attention you get from the men in the village”

You giggle, reaching out to press a peck of a kiss to his cheek “No one ever sparked my interest.”

“Really?” He argues, scoffing a bit as he pickles on a loose thread of the bed mat “None of them seemed to get that hint, huh? They all thought they had a chance.”

You shimmy as close to him as you can get, molding yourself into his side. His arm raises so that you can press right under his armpit, skin to skin. Your hardening nipples graze the side of his ribcage.

You love this. It may not be exactly healthy but you do.

You love feeling like you're not the only one losing your damn mind over the idea of ever having to share what the two of you had.

You smother the side of his face in kisses, your lips pecking all over his cheeks. His nose. The corner of his lips- which purse as he gives a halfhearted return.

“You’re the only one who ever had a chance” you promise as you begin to drag wet open-mouthed kisses down his neck. He’d shed his many chokers, and his bare throat is just so pretty.

“Ahuh” he grumbles, but his head lulls, giving you more room “Even today, I watched so many head’s turn to watch you. As you readied to move into my hut, to live with me. It’s maddening”

You heat up at his words. You feel your core begin to pulse again. You want him like this all of the time, and you know that the future is going to be littered with attempts at getting your man this riled up as much as possible.

“Mark me up some more?” you suggest, casually as ever. Grinning when your mate groans a little at the idea “Cover me in your cum. Make me smell so much like you that no one will ever question who I belong to.”

You yelp, shocked, when his hand claps loudly against your ass.

Swatting it once in warning, before his big paw begins to grope at the hot flesh. For a moment you’re so surprised, so scandalized, that you freeze.

That’s just for a moment though. You’re quickly resuming your assault on his neck, your tail wagging excitedly behind you.

“You like this?” He phrases it as a question, even though the bastard already knows. As though he can't tell, can't feel how wet you are for him when his fingers slip between your cheeks and circle your hole. Your pussy's already futtering for him.

“Mhmm” you whine as he presses into you, fingers disappearing knuckle deep. Not slow, no. He starts to fuck you with them almost automatically “Of course I like that you want me”

He pounds you with his hand and you gasp into his ear, jutting out your sweet behind. Wanting him harder, wanting all three of his long digits pressed as far into as they can go. It feels almost like a punishment…

You think you might like that, too.

“Silly girl” He chastises as he plays your body like a flute “I’ll always want you”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

The week passes by, although you truly wish it wouldn't- and slowly the rains start to clear. The storms fading into something docile, rainbows glittering as they catch on the many little windchimes you’d hung at the entrance of your home.

You and Neteyam don't leave the Mauri once. Completely enthralled with one and other. Intertwined too deeply to move far from the bed mat. He keeps you fed, cleaned and hydrated. Tends to any and all of your needs. Makes sure your greedy body is satiated-

“Ma Nete” you whine from your place among the blankets. The pout on your face is endearing, dramatic as anything though. "Don't go"

The two of you hadn't broken Tsaheylu in days. You could survive the separated bond for ten minutes.

“I have to go get more fresh water. We ran out last night- don’t look at me like that! I’ll be right back!” He’s refastening the leather straps of his tweng. He just has to go as far as the center of the village, to the well.

You’re not having it. You have no idea how he had wrestled his way out of your arms, but this wouldn't do. There we’re still women in the throws of Fertility Season. You could hear the caterwauling. He couldn't just go out there with all of his muscles-

“But paskalin(honey). We can go get water later. Together” you protest and he shakes his head, grabbing the water pail next to the fire pit.

“Or I can go get it now and get it over with” he sniggers, making a move for the doorway. He’s reaching for the flap, reading himself to leave.

When your pitiful moan rings through the air.

He should be strong, should be a dutiful mate. Needs to clear his head enough that he can take care of you-

Instead he turns back.

You’re a dirty cheat, he’s learned that fact during the last week. A sore loser. A little brat who couldn't take no for an answer. He’d spend the rest of his days spoiling you rotten and he blames Tonowari for it. He wonders if the older man had ever given you healthy boundaries;

You’d do just about anything to get your way. Resort to nasty tricks that you know he couldn't resist-

This being one of said tricks.

You’re on your hands and knees, your spine a perfect arch as you raise your ass into the air, and keep your head and shoulders pressed into the bedding. Your thighs parted wide as you reach back, tugging on your cheeks.

Presenting beautifully for him. The perfect picture of submission.

Your still wet holes wink at him hypnotically. Luring him back like a fish on a hook.

His Adam’s Apple bobs as he swallows, hard. Feet rooted in place as he battles with himself.

“Y/N…” He warns, even though he knows it’s futile. He can't resist you like this.

Can't resist you at all.

“Come taste” you purr, wiggling your hips as your delicate fingers trace the furl of your sphincter. “Tastes so good, huh, paskalin? It's cause I'm full of your cum. We taste so nice combined”

Neteyam groans, deep and gutted, and the pail clatters to the floor.

He dives back in, face first.

Not at all ashamed over the fact that his previously unswayable sense of duty deems to dissipate when it comes to you and your demands.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

The village is coming back to life. Couples rejoining the world after their week spent intimately tucked away. Slowly but surely Awa’atlu will return back to it’s everyday routine.

Jake maneuvers the walkways, smiling at people he passes. It had been much like this, in the forest. Fertility Season had been something he’d definitely had to get used to, a culture shock to the extreme, but once he realized how important it was to the Na’vi he’d got with the program pretty damn fast.

It's a sacred ritual, Neytiri had explained to him the first time he’d participated in the ritual. He had spent the week trying to keep up with his mate, completely surprised by the tantric, communal, act of sex.

It’s vital for their population, Norm and Max elucidated. They needed to have these seasons so that their tribes can stay afloat. If they don't, there weren't be enough babies born.

Whatever the true cause, it was an experience for sure. Back home in the forest as the Omiticayan Olo’eyktan, he’d been much more hands on. Running around like a chicken with his head cut off for weeks before the event. Organizing the hunt, making sure the coupling Na’vi were taken care of. Keeping the entire clan afloat.

It had been different this year, as most things we’re since the big move to the coast.

This year he was just another Metkayina clans member. He and his mate still had children under their care and didn't feel the lure of the heat as intensely. He wondered if after Tuk came of age, would Neytiri want to go back to being active participants?-

They Sully’s had been of service where they could, picking up any slack. Helping with odd jobs. Kiri had been a great help to Ronal, her quick healing hands had come in handy to the heavily pregnant Tsahik. Tuk beaded bracelets and delivered them, along with little prayers, to everyone's doorsteps. Neytiri had become quite the fisherman in her time on the Island and made sure to double up on her hunts, less anyone need a meal. Even Lo’ak had pitched in, an aid when needed. The kid bitched about it the whole time, but Jake had reminded him that it would be him in the mating couples’ place soon. Lo’ak had rolled his eyes and shrugged his dad off. Jake didn't miss the way his youngest son shot a very busy Tsireya a lingering look.

There was one very big presence missing though.

His eldest son had always been his right hand man, and especially during busy times of the year such as this, Neteyam was the always biggest help. Running around almost as much as Jake, taking on any and all responsibility. Completing even the most minute of errands.

Another change this year. His eldest had finally chosen a mate. And had been locked away in his own Mauri for the past week. Participating in Fertility Season for his first time.

It's why Jake was sent on this little task. Neytiri had filled a large woven basket with more food. Pitchers of well water, replacements of medicinal herbs.

“Isn't this a little much? We just got them all stocked up-”

Jake hadn't even bothered to finish his sentence, cut off by his wife’s withering glare. He’d just taken the basket and promised to deliver it safely.

He adores that she’s such a good mother to their children, he’d lacked that back on Earth. Him and Tommy had all but raised themselves. But did she have to be such a…hover mom? Neteyam had made it clear that he wanted some space to mate with Y/N. Private from his bustling family.

Jake couldn't deny that he’d missed his boy. Was a bit worried about him. Neteyam been so against mating back in the forest, rejected any and all proposals. Fertility Season could be…alot, to say the least. A marathon that even the most experienced had trouble running. Jake wasn't ashamed to say that he’d fainted his first time. Neytiri had almost killed him.

He’ll just check in quickly. Drop off the goods. Make sure no one is unconscious. It’ll be fine, most everyone has come out from the haze of the Season anyway. The two of you we’re probably just recovering from the week. Cleaning up-

As he reaches the Mauri, he realizes how wrong he was.

Your moans can be heard through the walls. Syrupy and raspy, you sound worn out. Yet nowhere near stopping.

“Neteyam- ugh-right there. Right there”

Jakes ears flatten against his head and his eyes go comically wide.

“Take it, Y/N. Fuck-”

Jake abandons the basket by the door and hightails it the fuck out of there before he hears anymore. Na’vi are different about sexuality. Far more open. There’s no stigma or shame, just love and acceptance. He’d grown to appreciate it during his years on Pandora.

That being said, Jake had no desire to hear his eldest son fucking his mate. Grown man or not. Call it the tawtute in him.

He’s still a little mortified, even when he makes it back to his own Mauri. Neytiri is sat by the firepit, slow roasting a recent catch. His other kids are nowhere to be found.

“What is it?” she questions as he plops down. Her husband looks a bit shell shocked.

Jake takes a beat, before turning to her. A peculiar look on his face “I’m pretty sure we’re going to be grandparents soon. Like, very soon. Like as soon as possible”

Ah. Her husband and his earthly modesty.

She can't help but laugh at it. After all these years, he still was so easy to fluster. Her sister and Tsu’tey had spent their first Fertility Season under the same roof as the rest of the family. It wasn't odd, or frowned upon.

A part of her wishes Neteyam had done the same so that she could take better care of him and Y/N.

“If the Great Mother wills it, yes” She pats his five fingered hand encouragingly.

“There is no way that girl isn't pregnant right now. Don't you think I’m too young to be a grandpa?”

“No. You are very old now, my love. Look at all of that gray in your hair” Neytiri jests, pointing out the silvery webbing that had started to sprout from Jakes dreads.

“Skxawng!” He swats at her and the two of them break into giggles as he takes out his knife and starts to cut the vegetables, helps her prepare dinner.

After all of the years, their rapport is easy. They move in harmony. She is very excited that her eldest son has finally found someone to build with. He had been so picky, she was worried he might end up an eternal bachelor, forever fated to take care of his siblings.

Neteyam deserved so much more than that.

“I miss having a prrnen(baby) around. Tuk has grown so fast. My time to birth children has come and gone, I am ready for grandchildren. Though I wish they could be raised in the forest” Neytiri shoots her husband a look “They will need us to guide them through it. To protect them. Family is our fortress, that is what you say. Our family is growing, Ma Jake”

Neytiri had been younger than her son is now when she birthed him.

She had no doubts that he was capable of raising a family. He’d helped them raise theirs. Always more of a parental figure than a sibling. She’s factual as she reminds her husband. He’ll be a fun grandpa, he decides. Paw Paw.

He gets a blank confused stare in response. Tuk comes running in, talking a mile a minute, before Neytiri can question Jake about what a “pah-pah” is.

Neytiri prays to the great mother before she goes to sleep that night. For healthy pregnancies and easy deliveries. For her eldest son and his mate’s happiness.

That Fertility Season had been good to them.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

Welp, welp, welppppp. I finally finished it. I want you guys to know how hard it was to get this finished. The amount of WIPS that sit unfinished in my drafts is actually sad.

But this story feels special. The response I have gotten to it has made me happier than I can express.

I'm so grateful to be a part of this fandom. Really. Pandora is such a fin world to escape into and play in and the fact that you guys enjoy reading what I consider self therapy is fucking amazing.

Next chapter will be full of pregnancy and pregnancy talk!!! If that’s triggering at all please just be aware that it’s coming and you can skip it if you’d like.

Also thinking about who’s POV we want to see next. Lo’ak’s maybe?

Again I want to remind you that I write what I want to read. I know that Na’vi don’t really have beds or blankets buttttt- I want them to.

Is there rice on Pandora? I’m not sure. My readers gonna eat some rice though.

Was it necessary for Neteyam to bite the shit out of her to seal the deal? Yup. Cause I wanted him to.

Part Four should be out in the next couple weeks. Thanks for being patient with me!

The taglist for this story is closed buttttt I am really good at linking my posts so just keep an eye on my page/Masterlist for updates!

Til next time babies.

Leave me all the good comments- you may get a teaser faster if you do lol

[gurugirl]

maybe fate | a quick preview

Summary: You meet Harry under interesting circumstances and think you'll never see him again. But as fate would have it, he knows your cousin so when you meet him again you two wind up becoming inseparable for a night.

The full one-shot has been posted on my Patreon already! Just wanted to share with y'all a taste of what's going on over there. Happy Sunday, loves!

preview is 842 words

xoxo

. . .

Your roommate, K, had some gall. You could hear her and whoever it was she brought home from the bar going at it for what seemed like an exaggerated amount of time. How was it possible that this person could last this long? Why were they still having sex?

As annoying as it was to lose sleep (you had a test in the morning so it was a little more than just annoying) you could admit, it did sound like she was getting it good.

The man, who you’d not yet seen and probably would not be seeing, had a deep voice. And not just any deep voice. He sounded hot. You couldn’t hear everything that was being said but he was vocal and he was definitely talking dirty to her.

Of course, there was also her bed that was wildly bouncing and the frame smacking into the wall which told you he was plowing her in a way that made you a little jealous. You hadn’t been laid in a while. It was your senior year at university and you were busting your ass like the good student you were. You needed a good grade to get the internship you were up for that summer.

So sleep was vital. And here you were listening to K getting the life fucked out of her. She sounded like she was crying but then you’d hear her long drawn-out moans of pleasure…

You stuffed your pillow over your head and groaned. If you failed your test the following day you’d be having a word with her about proper roommate etiquette. They could keep it down. There was no way they weren’t aware you could hear every little thing happening on her bed. You could even hear their bodies colliding every time he thrust into her.

Jesus. You needed sleep. But you also needed to get laid.

. . .

You didn’t fail your test, but you barely passed. But a passing grade was a passing grade you thought to yourself as you ordered your cappuccino. You were exhausted. Memories of what had kept you up had you rolling your eyes.

K was nice. You didn’t know her well, though. You were renting a small two-bedroom apartment and found it through an ad she’d posted. It would have been nice to have a place of your own but who could afford that? So, being stuck with K was more out of necessity than anything. You didn’t have much choice.

And up until the night before you’d really had no major complaints. She was six years older than you and had a regular job. She brought men home from time to time but nothing like her most recent Casanova that shook the whole apartment. And it was funny to you how she was always out partying and drinking while you stayed in on the weekends and studied til your eyes bulged out of your head. It should have been the opposite with you being the college kid and her the more mature adult.

Your plan had been to go home and crawl back into bed to catch up on the sleep you’d missed out on. But when you walked into your apartment you realized that K was still home. Which was odd since it was midday Thursday. Normally she was working.

You tossed your bag in your room and toed off your tennis shoes before making your way to the shared bathroom in the hallway and pushing open the door.

But instead of finding the bathroom unoccupied, you were met with a naked man who looked just as surprised as you were, “Oh shit!”

You turned quickly and put your hands over your eyes, “Sorry! Oh my god!”

The shock of seeing a man’s naked dick when you were not expecting it had you a bit dazed.

“Sorry, I’m covered now. Sorry,” you heard his voice and realized immediately who the offender was. The rowdy Casanova from the night before.

You kept your fingers over your eyes as you turned and slowly parted your digits to make sure it was safe.

He laughed and you verified he was indeed covered. But you did notice all the tattoos on his chest and arms, and his dark curls and soft green eyes… Yeah K was a lucky girl. Damn.

You didn’t stare long, though. But you could tell his body looked like he had a lot of stamina, and after everything you’d heard the night before you understood it all now.

“I’m Harry,” he held a hand out to you in greeting.

You smiled up at him and slid your palm into his, “Y/n. Uh… I’m guessing you’re K’s friend?”

He laughed again. Even his laugh was attractive with a big grin and nice teeth, “Yeah. I guess you could call me her friend.”

“Got it,” you nodded as you backed up out of the bathroom, “Well, I’ll come back when you’re done in here. Honestly didn’t mean to see…” you waved your hand around, “any of that.”

If you're interested in seeing more check out my Patreon! xoxo

General Tag List: @michellekstyles @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @golden-hoax @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @closureesny @justlemmeadoreyou @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @kelly-fushiguro345 @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs @lc-fics @mema10 @carmenxharry @hannahdressedasabanana @babegoalsreads @icumforbaldrry @harrrrystylesslut @straightontilmornin

[intoanotherworld23]

His Behind The Camera II

Pairing: Reader x Joel Miller

Warnings: MATURE CONTENT NSFW 18+ ONLY, there is smut in this, oral, female oral receiving, drinking, mentions of porn, adult films, swear words

Length: 2200+ words

Summary: It’s a life that you never thought you’d have, but you’re desperate and you need the money. That’s how you get into the adult film industry, and your first movie is with the devastatingly handsome Joel Miller

Check out my other works on my Hall Of Hunks

Part 1

The schedules were out and it looks like you were already scheduled with Joel. What seems to be multiple times too. Which made your heart skip a beat at the thought.

Guess the ratings went through the roof with you two. Apparently yours and Joel’s video was the most watched video in one night. It made you feel good hearing people were already in love with you.

You really mind doing the rest of your films with Joel anyway, but they told you it didn't work like that. In the world of adult film you had to make movies with people you weren't interested in.

Although you really were looking forward to doing another film with Joel. It had your lips feeling numb, and the tips of your fingers tingling.

Laying on the couch watching random shows you heard a loud knock on the door. Muting the television as you stood up to go see who was at the door.

You weren't expecting anyone nor did you know anybody else in the city. Maybe it was the wrong door, and they didn't realize it. This was someone you didn't expect though to be standing on the other side with a huge smile.

"Joel." You stated looking him up and down. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I would drop by and come see you." Shoving his hands in his pockets as you stood there shocked.

"How did you find out where I lived?" Scrunching your eyebrows at him.

"The office gave it to me." He said like it was no big deal. "I hope that's okay."

A part of you wanted to say yes it did bother you, but you were afraid you would then lose him. Not wanting to risk that you put on a big smile and welcomed him in.

"Of course not it just surprised me."

He walked in as you shut the door behind him. He looked around checking the place out making you a little nervous. Feeling a little unprepared at his unexpected visit. Licking your teeth with your tongue, and smoothing your hair down.

"Nice place you got here." He complimented and you just nodded.

"Is there something you needed?" Asking out of curiosity crossing your arms underneath your breasts.

"Not really I just thought we could hang out." His voice became soft making you feel bad for sounding harsh for his drop by.

"Sorry I just didn't expect you would want to see me outside of work." You choked out the last word. "If that's what you call it."

"No I'm sorry I should have asked if this was okay." He seemed nervous almost like he didn't know how to act.

"It's actually nice to have some company." You smiled to whir he returned. "Since I don't know anybody here."

"Well let's get this party started." He hollered clapping his hands together making you laugh.

"Party for just two people?" Raising an eyebrow.

"Even better." He wiggled his eyebrows at you making your cheeks heat up.

The two of you talked for quite some time about each other. You got to find out that he had a brother and two sisters. He grew up normally from you understood.

Admitting he loved sex and the feeling it always have him, so he decided to get paid to have sex. He started off as a low ranking actor who only got small roles in commercials. He wasn't happy with his life so he made the decision, and he's glad that he did.

Afraid to tell his family what he was doing for the past year, but they accepted him still anyway. It was never brought up whenever he came home for holidays though.

When he did mention sex though the air around the two of you became heavy. It was like there was always this pull towards him you couldn't control. It was intoxicating but also very dangerous.

The way he looked into your eyes and just stared had your heart beating so fast. It was getting hard to swallow the longer you were talking with him. You started to feel that pressure between your legs again. Clenching your thighs together to help ease the ache.

"You got anything to drink around here?" He asked as he stood up.

"Yeah I'll get it." You told him making him sit back down as you headed to the kitchen. "I've got water, soda, tea, vodka, whiskey, tequila you name it I've got it."

"I'll take tequila." With a nod you stood in the kitchen and grabbed a cup with some ice.

Grabbing the bottle you stood with your back to him. You could feel his eyes on you the whole time. Suddenly the room became very quiet and tense. Holding the bottle in your hand it sounded like something moved behind you.

Slowly pouring the liquid into the glass you felt a warm body standing right behind you. Keeping your head down as your breathing became shallow.

As if time was slowing down feeling him press right up against your figure. Your eyes focusing on the still empty glass. Unable to move or feel like you could even breath.

Feeling his hot breath fanning across your neck making the hairs on your skin stand straight. His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled your body back against his. Dropping the bottle back onto the counter.

His lips softly grazing your exposed neck kissing the skin making you moan. The stubble on his face rubbing against your shoulder as he moved his lips around your neck and shoulder. Your hard nipples pushing painfully against your shirt.

"God I want you so bad." He growled into your ear making you close your eyes.

Leaning your head back against his chest as you let him take over. His touch was so gentle but sensual at the same time. If you weren't wet before you were right now.

"I got to feel how tight that pussy was for me." His left hand moved down your hips moving towards your front. "Now I want a taste."

Gasping as your felt his warm hand reach inside your sweatpants cupping your pussy. His mouth open slightly as he felt how soaked you had become cause of him.

"Fuck baby all for me?"

He teased as his pointer and middle finger rubbed up and down your folds. Hearing the sound of your wet pussy as he slid his fingers down.

Feeling yourself moving your hips around to get more of a feel for his fingers. Chuckling into your ear at how easily he could control you.

"Such a dirty little slut." That was the first time he's called you that, and you loved it.

His other hand gripped your hip as he twirled you around to face him. Sticking the same two fingers that were just inside you into his mouth. Groaning against his fingers as licked your juices off.

Standing there in awe that a man could make you feel this way. Something as simple as licking his fingers had you wanting to bend over this counter.

Grabbing you swiftly as he placed you on top of the counter making you squeal. Maintaining eye contact with you the whole time as he gripped your pants, pulling them down your legs, throwing them to the side.

"Little pussy all wet for me."

He spoke as he looked down between your legs. Your pussy glistening in his view making him lick his lips.

Getting down on his knees as he spread your legs apart by keeping his hands on your ankles. Keeping yourself balanced by leaning on your hands.

He started to kiss from your ankle all the way up to your inner thigh. Every other kiss he would glance up at you to see how crazy he was driving you. Your mouth was opened as shallow breaths left your lungs.

His mouth was inches from your folds, and you found yourself lifting your hips just wanting to feel his tongue. He chuckled at your eagerness, and instead of teasing you more he placed his entire mouth on your wet folds.

Leaning your head back as you moaned out loud. Sticking his tongue out so he could slowly lick you from the bottom of your pussy to your clit that was now poking out.

"Oh fuck Joel." Moaning louder than you intended, but it just felt too good.

Doing that movement over and over again. He started to draw figure eights against your folds. Teasingly sticking his tongue inside you very fast quickly pulling it out making you gasp.

"You taste even sweeter than you look." He groaned as he licked your pussy again.

It was hot to hear him talk about you like this while he was on his knees. You've never felt more powerful than where you were sitting right now.

His tongue was moving faster this time as he rapidly moved it up and down against your pussy. Flicking his tongue around your clit making your squeal as you gripped his hair. He loved how sensitive you were.

"God yes lick my pussy Joel." Those words were enough motivation for him to turn into the animal he was meant to be.

For several minutes he kept the same pattern and rhythm up without breaking a beat. Your hands went from gripping his hair to gripping the edge of the counter. Unable to control your body or hands anymore.

"Feel my tongue baby." He encouraged you not to think too much and just feel. "Imagine my cock."

He then would trace circles around your clit for a few seconds, and then slurp your pussy. He was eating you out like you were legit his favorite meal, and he couldn't get enough of you.

He kept that same movement up until he felt your legs shaking against his hands. Burying his face between your legs as he stuck his tongue inside of you growling when he felt your insides clenching around his tongue.

"That's it sweet baby." He cooed up at you as he maintained his eye contact with what was between your legs. "Feed me."

Looking down to see his mouth practically swallowing your entire pussy. Grinding your hips against his face trying to feel more of his tongue. His hands keeping a grip on your knees to keep you open and spread for him.

Feeling your lower stomach tightening you knew you were seconds away from cumming on his face. Your moans filling the room you were glad at this moment you didn't have a roommate otherwise that would have been embarrassing.

"Ugh yes right there." Encouraging him to not lose the spot that had you seeing stars.

Joel knew you were close as his mouth left your pussy and started to suck on your now swollen clit making you scream. Your legs were shaking and your eyes were rolling into the back of your head.

"God yes yes yes." Squealing through your tightly bit teeth.

Making eye contact with him as you felt your orgasm swiftly approaching you. His tongue felt so good you could stay like this forever. You were never one to be eaten out like this, but if he were the one doing it all the time you wouldn't mind it.

"Cum around my face baby." He commanded you as he stuck his tongue back in your pussy.

At the same time he moved one of his hands so his fingers could flick your clit as well. It was like a fire was being ignited inside of you, and you were about to lose control.

Your senses were becoming overwhelmed and your body was basically grinding against him and the counter. Feeling the urge to pee you kept trying to push his head away from you but he stayed right where he was.

"Shit I'm gonna cum Joel."

You moaned almost as a warning but that only encouraged him to move his tongue and fingers faster.

Joel moved his hands then to your hips when he felt your pussy squeezing around his tongue. He knew you were close, and he planned to bring you to your orgasm. Your thighs clenching around his head as you tried not to suffocate him.

Your stomach tightening as you felt your release hitting you quickly. Joel swallowed every last drop of you and he groaned loudly as he did it. Your body started to relax when you were coming down from you high. 

"Sweet holy Jesus." You panted as you felt a drop of sweat roll down your back.

Joel stood up as he kept his hands on your hips. A layer of your arousal covering the scruff around his lips. Taking his fingers and wiping it off then sticking those fingers inside of his mouth groaning at the taste of you.

You sat there out of breath and satisfied. He looked across your face to make sure you were okay. Once you weakly smiled at him he placed his lips against yours, and you could taste yourself on his tongue.

Placing your hands on his hips as the two of you made out on top of the counter. It was like he couldn't get enough of you, and had to feel every inch of your body.

"Next time you're sitting on my face."

He joked as he poured himself a drink shooting the whole glass smirking when he set the glass down.

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

“It’s a promise sweetheart.” Coming back over to you grabbing your face in his hands kissing you deeply.

[nightcolorz]

if u are comfortable with this topic, do u have any thoughts about (tw: marius) how armand would think about what happened with marius in his early life? would he eventually think of it as csa or would he be uncomfortable thinking of it (or himself) in that way. in canon it seems he thinks of it as a “positive” contrast to his assault by slavers. but at the same time he describes being very helpless and not even totally understanding what is happening at first. and the conflict over marius denying him the chance at a normal life and isolating him from humanity could almost be a metaphor for grooming and abuse.

hi anon!!! I’m happy to talk about this 🙏 amazing question. Tw sa and csa talk, obvs.

While I like the idea of Armand being able to process his relationship with Marius as traumatic, I’m not sure if he could ever rlly reach that point (at least book-wise). Armand has a warped perception of the type of dignity/autonomy/right to feel comfortable, safe, etc that he is entitled to as a person. He was so deprived of that type of basic respect in childhood + his whole life that he isn’t able to rlly conceptualize being deprived of these things as “wrong”. He has internalized himself as sort of an inherently lesser commodity that will always be used for other’s gain. And so with this in mind he has a sort of “beggars can’t be choosers” view of kindness and love. So with Marius, I don’t think he registers the sexual abuse as bad since he was non consenting bcus he doesn’t understand bodily autonomy as smth he’s entitled to or something he expects to have. Also, since Armand sees Marius as so good, loving, merciful, etc, he can’t rlly wrap his head around him being abusive. Armand thinks of Marius as his loving father + the love of his life who saved him from human trafficking and took him under his wing, and I think bcus of how highly he regards these actions, any abuse he’s put through is thought of as an acceptable exchange for everything he has been gifted.

Bcus of how Armand doesn’t see Marius having sex with him as a child as abusive, u can see he has this disconnect as an adult when interacting with Marius where he feels the affects of the abuse but doesn’t understand why they are there. In the vampire Armand he recognizes that he is uncomfortable around Marius and hesitant to trust him or interact with him, but he doesn’t know why he feels this way, and seems to consider it an irrational reaction he should get past. I think Armand definitely knows to an extent that Marius mistreated him (tho I don’t think he considers their sexual relationship part of this), but I think he doesn’t feel any real resentment or conscious grief over this resentment, again bcus he never felt that he was entitled to being treated well in the first place.

Marius is more aware of how he has wronged Armand then Armand is 😭 and I think if they were to discuss this Armand would find it unsettling or even angering. Armand definitely grieves being deprived of his humanity, but he I think sees it more as a tragic inevitability than a fault of Marius’s, while Marius definitely sees it as his fault. If Marius were to apologize to Armand for turning him so young I think Armand would get rlly upset, partly bcus he would find the implication that Marius regrets keeping him alive super offensive and devastating, and partly bcus he would find the explicit acknowledgment that his gracious caregiver did not have his best interest at heart and acted in ways he knew were selfish and would harm Armand, earth shattering. It’s more comfortable for Armand to believe that he wasn’t being abused by the one person he believes ever cared for him, then to recognize that so many of his issues were willfully caused by him.

I think that by post canon Armand would definitely be aware that by modern standards of morality and law his relationship with Marius as a child would be seen as predatory and sexually abusive, but I don’t think this would influence how he perceives it very much. I think he’d be able to reach the place where he recognizes that it is always harmful for children to have sex with adults, but I think he’d continue to see Marius and him as this single expectation to this fact that somehow made it out fine, bcus of time period or vampirism or whatever yada yada. Being sexually abused by Marius contributed heavily to Armand discovering his sexuality and learning how to have relationships, and even tho it was definitely traumatic, I think Armand considers it a necessary trauma that taught and shaped him more then it scarred him. Armand resents Marius for abandoning him after he was kidnapped by the children of darkness, and for depriving him of being his companion (cough cough bcus marius doesn’t respect him or care for him as an equal or individual cough cough), but I don’t think he is able to recognize that the sexual abuse was just as harmful and a part of this behavior.

I also have a feeling that Armand doesn’t want to acknowledge that being sexually abused by Marius was wrong bcus he feels at fault for it (since he enjoyed it and willfully took part in it as he got older), so I imagine bcus of his deep seated religious guilt and shame he sees himself more as an instigator for sexual violence bcus of his “seduction” then a victim of it. Which I definitely relate to! Armand is such a greatly upsetting example of how complex cases of sexual abuse and grooming can be hard to cope with by victims who felt that they enjoyed it, initiated it, etc. Our culture sees sexual abuse as this very straightforward rapist vs victim scenario, when in reality it is often much more complex, often with victims who have positive feelings towards their abusers or felt that they asked for/enjoyed the abuse. Armand has experienced the straightforward blameless type of sexual abuse, and he has experienced the complex kind, and part of his trouble with recognizing that both were abuse comes from how limited the understanding of sa was in his time. I also think that he refuses to acknowledge that his relationship with Marius was sexually abusive bcus he finds it more comforting and empowering to think of it as beneficial then abusive. The reality that Armand was sexually abused for his entire life until he was turned is probably sm more difficult to accept then he was sexually abused in his early life and then rescued from it by Marius.

even tho Armand isn’t able to consciously acknowledge that Marius abused him, that trauma definitely lives in his body and affects him daily. The lesson that Marius taught him by having sex with him the first night he took him home is that for Armand, love is inherently transactional and inherently selfish. Ppl who love u r entitled to use u, being made to feel helpless, scared, hurt, etc by someone who loves u is normal and part of the deal, giving up ur bodily autonomy in a relationship is part of loving, love is pain and sex is meant to hurt you, etc. and all of these internalizations are a major factor in how fucked up all of Armand’s romances r 😭 and how much trouble he has with attachment and keeping up healthy relationships. He sees his relationship with marius as the blueprint 😭💔 Marius was his father, and he is always clinging to these life truths his father taught him in childhood.

I like to imagine it is possible for Armand to heal from this abuse, and to accept that it was abuse, but the reason I hesitate to picture it is bcus of how incredibly difficult it would be for him. To heal, Armand would have to literally rework the foundation his entire worldview, and to reassess his entire sense of self and (already fragile) understanding of his own life and how it’s affected him. Someone needs to get him a good therapist, cuz oh boy, that is not the kind of work anyone, let alone someone like Armand, can do independently.

thank u sm for the ask I loved writing and thinking about this!!!! Anon u r so so sweet to be so considerate towards me, but for further reference I love to and am very comfortable analyzing and talking about Armand’s history of abuse, and anyone is free to send me asks prompting me to go into depth about it. Thank u again anon ❤️❤️

[lowkeyed1]

just some thoughts on living in the US right now, specifically as a visibly queer adult but yanno... you can extrapolate to your particular marginalized group probably. so... i registered to vote on my 18th birthday. as a republican, so i could vote in their upcoming primary. i wanted to vote against pat buchanan. i thought he didn't have a strong chance of being the nominee but... he was an explicit christian nationalist. he proclaimed, loudly and frequently, that america was just for christians, should be run by christian values, and that other religions, foreigners, and especially gay people needed to get the fuck out or if they died that would also be fine. also that gay people were all child molestors, would give you aids, and were the cause of natural disasters in the US because god was mad that america had so many of us. honestly he was scary shit then, idk if you'd even notice him now anyway, in 1996 (when i was 18), gay marriage wasn't a thing. a few cities in california had created domestic partnerships that were legally recognized. some companies had non-discrimination policies against sexual orientation. clinton signed the DOMA act, which prevented the federal government from recognizing same sex unions. which is to say at age 18 i already knew that a large part of the country didn't see me as a full person, thought i didn't deserve rights, and would probably be happy if i just died and stopped being a pain in the ass about that stuff. things changed a lot in the last 28 years. definitely more than i expected, and it was gratifying! but i never lost that awareness that a lot of people were not okay with it, and would probably still be happy if i just died. even as being gay became more accepted, more normalized. even as conservatives started to learn that they were turning off voters when they kept harping on it. even as i knew they just had learned to pick their audience instead of thinking the way they thought was general currency. it was a relief to not hear it all the time, at least! so, long story short! i lived then and have always lived and will keep on living now to SPITE those motherfuckers. i will do everything i can to fight for every scrap of love and joy, to SPITE them twice as hard. i will take care of anyone else i can, just to spit in their fucking eye! and i hope you will, too. you were made to live, so live. and as long as you're living, you should be kind to yourself and to others, and make things and do things that make you feel good. there is no greater meaning in life, no higher calling, than to fight against the forces that want to drag you down. please, won't you join me?

[mellowyellow236]

Royally Screwed

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (In progress)

(Yuu will be named Yuri, as she's my Yuusona. While there will be no detailed description of her body, Yuri is intersex and may be referred to as such by the cast, although she refers to herself as a woman. All characters will be aged up by one year! The exceptions are all adult characters without specified ages, immortals, and Leona. There will be no sex scenes, but there will be some jokes and also the implication of the expectation with the consorts.) 

~

People are annoying. Especially when they’re convinced they know what’s good for you. I mean, I’m the emperor! You know, cool, powerful, not supposed to have a babysitter over your shoulder explaining who’s planning on entering your life because the bird decided it would be better to go behind your back and give you consorts than just saying they thought you were going to die alone and guilt trip you as a normal guardian would. But here I am, trying not to use my ‘plotting face’ as Crewel calls it, listening to him blabber on and on and on… 

Bla bla bla, “The prince of the Coral Sea and the son of a countess-” Ramble, ramble, “The second prince from the Sunset Savanna and a descendant of the Queen of Hearts still in the nobility-” Why does politics have to be so boring? “Three noble sons from the Shaftlands to compensate for their lack of princes- You’re not even listening to me. I don’t know why I bother…” 

“At least you’re self-aware.” 

“If only you were…” He sighed, “If you declare war,” Fun idea, “Please do it after all the consorts arrive. That way, we’ve got nobility from every country nearby and far to use as immunity from certain alliances.” 

“Like the Shaftlands and Queendom of Roses? They’re allied, right?” 

“Yes-” 

“See, I do pay plenty of attention when it’s important! I just don’t really care what the rumors around my future boytoys are if I’m going to meet them all soon anyway. I mean, it’s been… Five days since we got our Crowley news? At least five days, anyway.” It’s been six days, but seeing Crewel so flabbergasted at how I passed any exam well enough that the general populace didn’t overthrow me the moment I started ruling is the best part of my day. I mean, I don’t act like this around people, it’s no surprise I’m well-liked. 

Well, I’m fairly tolerated because Crewel’s really efficient, and Vargas tends to shut down any criticism before it starts. Perks of having the head of the royal guards built like a tank, I suppose. 

“It’s-” 

“Don’t care, anyway, the first batch is set to arrive today.” 

“Yes, the first two consorts. Prince Riddle Rosehearts of the Queendom of Roses and Prince Leona Kingscholar of the Sunset Savannah.” 

“Wasn’t it Lord Rosehearts, the son of the doctor and duchess, last I checked?” I sat up once he brought up the boys. “And then that Leona guy isn’t really a prince anymore.” Oo, theatrics time! Time to make my godfather hate me! I stood up, putting a hand to my chest. Grim grunted, and I sniffled. Crewel looks like he wants to kill a man. Perfect. “Do I really have not a single kingdom willing to give me a prince over a boy?” 

“Oh shut up, you’re at the age where all the leading princes are already engaged. Or, children. I’m sure no one wants to marry a five-year-old because I will make the offer if you’re so heartbroken over the lack of pampering.” He hissed. 

“Okay, I can deal with not real princes.” I plopped back down onto the armrest of my throne. “Just tell me if they want me to, like, visit them or if they’re pissy about this whole arrangement.” 

“Not as much as you, Pup. And you should visit them all, but only once everyone is here. I have a list for you of the order you should use.” When I raised an eyebrow, he continued. “It’s in terms of political power. You’ll start with Malleus Draconia-” The man who’s got horns so big they’re like elephant ears. Hornton, some might say. With such good fae senses, one might even say he could hear a Who. “-And you will end with the aforementioned Rosehearts boy.” Well, screw that. He shows up first and gets picked last? I might be a harlot whose only value lies in her kettle drums, but at the very least, I’m fair. 

Also, a gremlin according to everyone who’s known me since I was a child. But the people don’t need to know that. 

“Plotting face, Pup. What are you planning?” 

“Wonderful things.” He only sighed in response. 

“Don’t start a war, piss off anyone, or have a child before you’ve chosen who you want to lead your harem.” Okay, first and last are doable. Two out of three isn’t a bad score. 

“Yep, I can do that. So, the second guy that’s coming today? Mr. Used-To-Be-A-Prince. You want me to see him when?” 

“You’re not going to listen to me regardless.” 

“Good point. What time?” 

“The first will be here at quote ‘tea time’.” 

“Our tea time or the Queendom of Roses’ tea time?” 

“Queendom of Roses, most likely.” 

“Okay, five hours to prepare. Six o'clock, I can do that.” I get up, stretching my arms. “Call in Skully. I want to wear something nice.” 

“Don’t… Hit on them. In public.” Ouch, there goes plan C. How horrible, honestly. No one would believe me anyway, so there's no point in denying it. I ring the bell for Skully again, looking at Crewel as I do. 

“You should leave, he’s bringing me dress options.” 

“You should get a woman for a valet if you’re so worried about that. If not, I’m staying.” He groaned, and I’m sure I rolled my eyes to cause it. “You will learn about the people you will be staying with, and that is final, young lady!” 

“Young emperor, you mean…” 

“Do you think I care?” 

“No…” 

“Good. Now shut up and put those years of acting skills to the test, because I’ll be in hell before you tell foreign nobility to go kill themself again.” I was 13! How come Crewel has to remember everything?! 

~

A few hours later, give or take my sanity, and I’m dressed up with a mildly endearing lunatic on one side raving about the beauty of a black dress instead of whatever shade of blue, if one could call this grayish color that, I’m wearing, while my other has a man in a suit with far too many pieces for the weather telling him that he’s stupid because red is a better color if we weren’t meeting some redhead and black would clash with the yellow of the second prince slated to come for today. 

Once I took my spot on my throne, I took a deep breath. Here we go… The booming voice of Vargas, as the man in question made his way into the entryway. Flanked by two guards and two attendants, one of each on either side, came the surprisingly short man with strawberry-flavored hair. My first suitor… 

“Please welcome, His Highness, Prince Riddle Rosehearts of the Queendom of Roses!” I already knew that, but cool. Introductions, are they really needed? Just shove him into the palace and I’ll hand over paperwork whenever I please. But a smile, I need to smile at him. Just smile, wave, and remember not to punch Crowley for looking so smug. He’s bowing, which means to introduce yourself… I hate having a mini Crewel in my head. 

“Welcome,” As expected, he looks uptight. His head is held a bit too high, and his back is a bit too straight. Someone born with just enough power to be a figurehead, not enough to have any to use for yourself… A tyrant in the making if I let him bloom, I’ll bet. But then again, he could be greedy enough to take that power at his first chance, with or without my permission. “I am the monarch of this fine empire. Raise your head, for we welcome you into our palace. There should already be servants escorting your bags into your estate.” 

“Thank you, your majesty.” Nailed the line. He bows and looks just as formal as always. Anyway, onto his entourage. The first redhead is trying to look subtle while he’s taking photos, the second is trying to restrain a yawn, the bluenette guard looks to be barely restraining punching the second ginger, and the man with green hair is ignoring them. I can see Riddle’s eye twitch ever so slightly… How cute. I’m going to push his buttons to hell and back. 

“Tell me, dear,” Oh my seven, that made the twitching worse, and he’s bright red, “What are the names of your companions?” 

“My valet is Trey Clover. My servant is Cater Diamond. My two knights are Ace Trappolla and Duece Spade.” Pretty good names, if you look past the theme. What, did he rank them based on how likely he was to hit them? I’m going to love him, I can just tell. I’ve got a little rosy tyrant over here, I can bully him a little bit. “Is there any reason you wish to know, Your Highness? Have they broken any kind of rule?” 

“Oh heavens, no. I simply like to know the names of those I assume I’ll be interacting with often.” I wave a hand lightly, the court equivalent of dramatic gasps and shoving a topic out of the room. I guess I was right, with the talk of rules he really must be a stick in the mud. “Although, I must ask if your knights would like to train with my own. We have the training ground for the imperial knights, as well as the nearby knight academy’s fields if you would prefer it.” I respond eloquently. He bows again, 

“Thank you, Your Highness. I shall take you up on that offer.” 

“Yuri is fine, dear.” Dear Seven, this boy is entertaining. I shoot Crewel a look, he didn’t tell me about all of the fun that would come from more than just watching, and he gives me one back that makes it seem like he’s seconds away from screaming swears in my general direction. Perfect! The world is as it should be! 

“Very well, Empress Yuri.” A subtle admission, I see. The Queen’s the one in power in the Queendom, obviously, but that isn’t the case here. He’s changed his clothes to match my land, and it’s obvious that he can read the various tapestries around the throne room’s inscription. He should know that an empress is a title reserved for the weaker monarch, and it’s no secret that I’m not a biological woman. Either this is a slip of the tongue in common, or this is an attempt to state that he has his own views of my rule. But he used empress, not queen. He didn’t go back to old habits, he must have referred it to me in his head before ever meeting me. But that begs the question, does he believe I fit the title of power that he used in his home, or does he believe he should be the one on the throne? 

“Just Yuri. I hope you are aware it’s in no way improper. I will allow all of my consorts to use my name.” He raises his head, “But you may address me with whichever name you have used today or as my title of emperor.” If he believes that I’m doing anything but asserting my power, then he’ll be a fool. But from the way his eyes crackle and his face flushes a red that I believe is anger, he is nothing but driven to succeed here. 

“Very well, Empress Yuri.” He meets my eyes, and I’m sure my smile is more of a smirk. 

“Of course. You are dismissed.” What a wonderful first addition. When he turns to exit, there’s nothing I’m more sure of. The greenette, Trey, seems mildly concerned, while Cater looks nothing but distracted by the appearance of my palace. The two knights are exchanging looks, one much more apprehensive than the other, judging from the crease in his brow and the redhead’s wide and crooked smile. I sure hope to see them, maybe tomorrow morning. I could join Vargas for training, he somehow always manages to make physical activity more fun. 

Oh well, the next guy should be coming in any minute now. At the latest, nine at night. I’m going to be busy tonight… 

~

“What do you mean, he’s not coming?!” I cried, looking at the official elected to talk to me. It was Trein, who had Mozus in his arms looking more disappointed than I was pissed. 

“He’s decided that he’d rather go to bed in his palace than greet you. He invites you to do so in the morning.” I raise an eyebrow. Trein sighed, “His valet and head servant invite you to come visit him in the morning.” 

I will not stand for this! Really, not coming to see me? I’m emperor and empress AND the single most important person who could change his entire life with a wave of my hand. 

“I’m going to go see him.” I got up, Grim following behind me, roaring with mild annoyance. He soon walked ahead of me, the only person who ever did so now that I was an adult, looking behind at me as if to ask if this man was worth it. Yes, Grim, he is because I said so. Also, how am I supposed to have fun watching my consorts destroy each other if I don’t know them? That’s half the fun! 

I’m strutting through the hallways to my little lionman’s estate. One knock on the front doors of his palace brings out a knight. He has white hair, wolf ears, and a tail. Judging by how it’s wagging despite the serious look on his face, he’s a big dopey puppy at heart. But now is not the time for my favoritism towards anything fluffy! Now is the time for entering but not breaking! But I will break in if I have to! 

“Hello there. I am emperor Yuri Akatsuki. I am here to see my consort.” Don’t ramble, just look into his eyes, and glare! Okay, he’s bowed, that’s a good sign. But he’s still blocking my way in.

“I apologize, Your Majesty, but I must insist you wait until the morning. The Prince Consort Leona is weary from the journey to the empire.” 

“The Sunset Savanna is a far journey away, but it is equal distance from the Queendom of Roses. Am I to believe the former second prince from a country known for its strength is more tired from travel than the son of a branch family?” I ask, my tone conveying a sense of disapproval. My eyes narrow, the ashen blue gazing into his golden brown ones. If I need to play into our statuses to get what I want, I will. 

He moves aside, and I saunter in. 

Oh thank the seven, I thought I’d have to be there for longer. I am weak, I say, weak! I just want to have a good time watching his prince burn, why won’t the world let me?! 

“Prince Consort Leona,” I state, walking in and standing in the doorway. There’s a man not facing me, with seemingly tan skin and dark brown hair. He grumbles and the other man, likely his valet, laughs from where he stands beside him with a plate of meat. Oh, I’m so hungry… I wish I had steak to chow down on, and no dress to be ruined by it. “I heard that you were sleeping. Interesting to know that that assessment was false.” 

“I’m tired. I would like to sleep, and I would be if not for my servants. And now, if not for you.” He groans, taking a bite from the hyena man. About the age of the other consort, that man is very thin and his hair looks as though it was trimmed personally. Lion Boy has a record of taking pity on those living in the slums, and it seems that’s accurate. Still, he should have at least given the man a proper hairdresser and more meals. At least don’t push away good food in front of him. 

“Very well. Shall I take this as your greeting, then?” I hum lightly, “Although I will say, not giving me his name and saying something that should catch my attention more to deflect from the blame you placed on a servant…” Checkmate. Only I get to be a manipulative jerk in my house. He doesn’t look that surprised, but he does tense slightly. Good. “So, what is his name?” 

“Ruggie. Why do you care?” 

“Why do you care to protect him?” He sits up, his torso turning to look at me as his face continues to hang. An air of sloth is around him as he huffs and growls. 

“Answering a question with a question.” 

“Well aware. Good to know you’re grasp of our language.” I smile at him. He looks ready to murder me. Perfect! Drama already! Ruggie’s laughing. I wish I could join him, but ‘prissy princess’ doesn’t seem to be what’ll set him off. I mean, ‘someone able to match him in intellect’ is working out fine for me. 

He doesn’t give me a response, though, so I think I’ve reached the limit of my fun today. I turn around, as Grim shakes his mane and grunts. Trein moves to be behind me once more, as I wave a noncommittal hand in Lion Boy’s general direction. 

“It’s rude to let food go to waste right next to someone who didn’t have enough at one point. At least give it to him if you don’t plan on eating.” An important lesson, spoken as condescendingly as I one can sound. I’m a master at controlling the tone of my voice, kid, move aside. 

Based on the aggravated growl before I hear someone hit a wall, I’ve succeeded in my goals. Woo-hoo! Cake to celebrate! The Pastry Policy can’t stop me tonight! 

~

There’s a spring in my step as I return to the palace. Well, my palace, more accurately. This is just a big palace with a million smaller, still ginormous, palaces inside. But I’m going to the palace I sleep in. Seven, it’s annoying to say ‘palace’ so many times in a row. Like a bad tongue twister. 

Well, it’s true, anyway. Sleepy time now. I pop onto my bed, being embraced by layers upon layers of fine red silk and gold trimming. Most of them were brought from a merchant from the Scalding Sands, one that might be coming in the coming days. Well, I know a rich boy from the Scalding Sands is coming soon, I just don’t know if it's that rich boy. Crewel knows better than I do, but I don’t care enough to ask. So long as I’m entertained and comfy, I’m happy. 

I sigh as I feel a very large, very furry body plop on top of me. 

“Griiiiiiim…” I whine. He yawns in response. “Get offffff…” He does not. I pout and bury my face into the blankets. I rub his paw, big toe beans and all, and watch him lick my arm. Big kitty, big kitty… 

“Ou next prince is coming from… the Coral Sea? I think. A prince- An actual prince, for some reason. Almost no ruler is dumb enough to send their current royal family members, even if he’s the youngest- And the son of a countess.” I poke the pad of his paw, “Weird. A noble with a status too low to normally be considered for a political marriage. Maybe Princey was their way of making up for it? But at that point, send me one of the sons of that one duke. He’s got twins, doesn’t he? They can afford to send one away, especially since all of the nobles there are relatively young. I had to sign their 5th-anniversary card when I first became crown princess.” I hum, “Maybe because they’re not royal blood? But I remember hearing that one princess, like, three generations ago or something chose to marry a commoner. Lost her title and stuff. Ended up getting the title of countess or baroness or something due to some blackmail against her brother or his kids. Her kids might have kept the title… And at this point, I’d think those nobles would be the most likely to have their blood.” I let out a breath, “Assuming that it holds true to that old storybook. I used to read it to you when you were a little, itty-bitty kitty. Mom used to make me interested in politics using it, too. You know the one, Grimmy?” He wacks my leg with his tail. “Duled noted. You biiiiigggg baaaaabbbbyyyy…” 

I place a kiss on his arm. Leg? He walks with them… Honestly, though, who cares? I can ramble about books and suitors to my cat in the morning. Sleep time! Rest time! Don’t face the world because it’s got nothing worth giving me except fleeting moments of happiness time! 

Honestly, that’s a weird tone that I’m using for that sentence, even in my thoughts. And that’s an even odder thought to have right before I conk out. 

~~~

(I love adding double meanings to sentences that no one else will care about… This was really fun to write! Yuri’s main thing she’s good at is reading people and knowing what they need to feel a certain way. In other words, manipulation. In every other thing I’ve written for her as an adult/teen, it’s to make other people feel loved so that way they’ll love her, or at least not critique her. In this AU, she’s on top of the world and her empire so her only goal is to cause as much entertainment as she can without ruining her reputation. Writing that with Leona is especially interesting… They match each other's freak in some ways. Although, it can be pretty hard to do since establishing that they understand each other while stating Yuri’s thoughts on the matter leads to the basic literary advice of “show, don’t tell” being difficult to follow. It’ll get better once we’re done with exposition or Yuri falls for the bait, I promise.) 

[marvelstars]

"All slaves have a transmitter placed inside their bodies somewhere." "I've been working on a scanner to try and locate mine, but no luck." "Any attempt to escape…" "And they blow you up. Poof!"

―Shmi and Anakin Skywalker

One of the things that always get my attention in the phantom menace is how easily the people who would take care of Anakin from his 9 years to a young adult could ignore so easily the way his upbringing would affect him but if you see TPM movie, you get why.

Shmi and Anakin are living in horrorific circunstances, they know their owners, Gardulla and Watto can blow them up anytime they want with all legality on Tatooine so what´s left to them to stay not only sane but also kind under such circunstances is to keep what Viktor Emil Frankl called "mental/emotional freedom" they may not be owners of their own bodies but they are owners of their own mind and they can choose to be kind in their circunstances because they "WANT TO BE KIND" not because some code tells them they have to be kind or compassionate.

This is a family who has personally seen slaves being blown up, from kids, to women to adults of any age, a family who lived inside Gardulla´s the Hutt palace, you only need to remember ROTJ to understand this is a mother who had to explain to anakin what sex was from a very young age so he could tell her if someone wanted to take advantage of him that way even if she could not stop them from taking advantage of her Son.

QUI-GON: You should be proud of your son. He gives without any thought of reward.

SHMI: Well he knows nothing of greed.

So when the Jedi came to Tatooine, given the stories both Shmi and Anakin heard about them, most notably the story about them freeing slaves from the former Sith Empire some thousands of years ago, they didn´t expect much but at least they expected the problem to be recognized but Qui-Gon has to explain to them that they are on Tatooine on accident and that they are not here to free slaves and when you get to Coruscant you learn that the Jedi are mostly concerned to what happens in the Senate to put much attention to what happens in the wider galaxy.

So we get in an scenario where Anakin is send to the Temple by his mother to give him a chance of a normal life but the world in which he gets to doesn´t even have the lenses to begin to understand his pov and not only that, they expect him to adapt himself to them, not the other way around.

You think? I don´t know Yoda, If I were a 9 year old who still has a ticking bomb inside my body(Qui-Gon didnt had time to get him to an infirmary), who had to leave behind my mother in such circunstances and who now is surrounded by adults called masters, who can read my mind, you know, the only thing left free for a slave like Anakin, I guess I would be pretty afraid too and not because I am falling to the darkside but because it´s a normal human reaction but Jedi are just not that empatethic in this version of the Order right?

So what we get is that Anakin gets to live in a place with people who certainly have good intentions, who see themselves as the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy but who mostly believe this means doing what the Senate tells them to do, they are completely unable and unwilling to even begin to understand Anakin, most of them, even Yoda have too sheltered lives to begin to understand where Anakin is coming from and it shows painfully as part of the tragedy, because where they see Anakin, they see pain/anger/hate and where Anakin sees them, he sees ignorance and lack of empathy that he at times sees as cruelty but both sides try to make it work, acting as if that´s not what they see on each other.

So even if Obi-Wan did his best to understand Anakin he´s still too sheltered to understand him they way his mother did, he believes Anakin having a problem with food snacks is a sign of him being greedy /asking for special treatment instead of being a sign of someone who has been starved before as punishment and a natural reaction is to keep food and insects around so he doesn´t die of hunger, Obi-Wan is just disgusted by it.

But you know someone who certainly grew up as sheltered as the members of the jedi order, as part of a noble house in a mid rim planet but who has plenty of life experiences and isn´t so set in his ways that he can recognize the signs Anakin is showing for all to see? who has travelled to Tatooine and many other worlds as part of his Sith training? Palpatine, this is why he allowed Anakin to stay in the Jedi Order, he knew he would just grow up bitter and resentful of them because they were just too set in their own ways to try to understand and that for him, was just preparation for him to be turned into a Sith. He can be the one adult who understands where Anakin is coming from and he doesn´t even need to lie.

So when I see this character seen in the fandom as someone spoiled (lol) who gave Obi-Wan a hard time every chance he got, I wish Lucas had been more direct in telling this part of the story because there´s just so much of this tragedy lost in translation that isn´t even funny.

But you know who also had the means to get to Anakin and completely understand what the hell happened, who was from the same world? Who knew how to get to him in his own language despite years of being submerged in the darkside? Yes, his Son Luke, so I guess this is how the story rhymes.

[novamariestark]

Safe & Sound - Tallahassee [Part 2]

Summary: Love had always seemed worlds away when it came to you. So when the world went to shit, the last thing you expected was to fall in love.

Warnings: SMUT, oral sex (m+f), piv (protected), 18+ 🔞

Word count: 2796

Fandom: Zombieland

Pairing: Tallahassee x Reader

Romance in the apocalypse? Who would have thought? You didn’t. You certainly didn’t think that you'd get the best, most earth-shattering sex of your life. Like, there’s probably a handful of humans left on this planet and one of them is him… the master of sex. And he’s all yours.

Well, at first he was. At some point your son had adopted him and Tallahassee spent a lot of time with him. Not that you minded. Bear hadn’t had a father figure in his life and to see him so happy and comfortable with Tallahassee makes your heart do a thousand cartwheels in your chest. Of course, Tallahassee was happy too. Whilst no one could ever replace his own baby boy, he had taken to Bear.

Belle had also started to settle, her and Little Rock bonded quite well despite the 4 year gap, but that didn’t matter anymore, they were still in the same boat. You and Wichita got along well, like sisters but as sisters often do, you fought. You still hadn’t gotten used to the nerdy kid. You had no idea why. Kids like him were the reason your brain didn’t turn to mush whilst grading homework. But still. He got on your nerves.

Maybe it was the constant lists, the fact that he kept jumping at every little thing, or interrupting you and Tallahassee in the middle of your sessions. Yes, plural.

But of course, that nature of his where he doesn’t knock and lets himself wander in, is how he found out. There were a million other people you wanted to know before him, and nearly all of them were zombies.

“Are you crazy?! P-pregnant?”

“Will you keep you fucking voice down?!” you snapped, yes you were about 90% sure you were pregnant. But you didn’t want anyone to know until you were certain. As certain as you can be without actual confirmation from a doctor. You were unpacking your bag with the tests in when he barged in, “You know I could’ve been naked?” but then again, he’d already seen most of you when he walked in the previous times, “Haven’t you seen enough?”

“You didn’t use protection?”

“Yes mom, we did!” you snapped back through gritted teeth, “Now will you shut the fuck up before I shoot you,”

You didn’t need this. You were terrified enough. The world wasn’t the place for an adult, much less a newborn baby. You already had your son, your niece, how the hell were you going to protect them whilst also protecting your unborn child?

How the fuck were you gonna tell Tallahassee? How the fuck is he going to react? Badly. At least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself, over and over.

“How did happen?”

You rolled your eyes at his question, “How do you think, dipshit,”

You had an idea of when your baby was most likely conceived, and it happened to be the time where you were really going at it. After months of fucking each other, somehow you were both so incredibly horny that the normal pace just didn’t cut it and you practically both turned into animals.

You were on a supply run and you had just taken out a bunch of zombies and got a lot of supplies, including a few packs *cough* 14, of condoms, which you decided to test out in the car before heading back to your temporary home.

You couldn’t remember who made the first move… that’s a lie. It was you. You had been the one to initiate the kiss and everything else that snowballed after that. You had climbed over the column that separated the two of you and made yourself comfortable attaching your lips to his. Your tongues battling for dominance. Usually, you roll over within seconds but now, you wanted to be in control.

“Where the hell did that come from?” he asked as you pull away for air. His hands comb through your hair, his nails grazing slightly against your scalp, pulling a moan from you.

 “I love how your arms flex when you take down a zombie,” you reply with a smile, your bottom lip sucked between your teeth, “Reminded me how much I love having them around me,” you lean in, your teeth grazing his neck, “you’re so sexy,” you press a light kiss to his neck, your tongue darting out to lick a line to his ear.

You felt his throat vibrate against your tongue as a little groan escapes his lips. You smile to yourself as you pull away from him, your hips grinding against his, denim on denim rubbing together. There’s way too much clothing for your liking, so you climb back over to your seat, only to start undoing your belt and pulling the zip down in such a frenzy that you almost broke it.

Tallahassee followed, unbuckling his belt and sliding his jeans and boxers down just enough so that they were out of the way. You licked your lips as you saw his cock slowly stand to attention. You smirk up at Tallahassee, who is waiting for you to come and take your place back on his lap, but first, you wanted to feel him in your mouth. You dip your head, coming face to face with his cock, you stick your tongue out to give a teasing lick to the slit that had Tallahassee sucking in a breath.

You smirk, looking up at him through your lashes, the fakest innocence on your face as you give him a sweet smile. You looked back, taking him fully in your mouth, gagging slightly as he brushes up against the back of your throat. You hollow your cheeks and begin to bob up and down at the slowest, most torturous pace.

“Don’t tease, baby girl,”

You smirk as much as you could with him buried between your lips. You continued swirling your tongue around and around. Tallahassee took the back of your head with his right hand, his hand tangled slightly in your hair.

As you continued to caress his penis with your tongue and and your lips, Tallahassee’s hand left your hair and began to slowly move down your body. He ran his hand you’re your shoulders, your ass that was sticking up high in the air, then back. On his way back up your body, his hand slipped under the hem of your shirt and caressed your bare back, and he wonders how he didn’t notice that you weren’t wearing a bra. He tried to reach around your body, but he couldn't reach your breasts. He trembled as your tongue brushed over the tip sending a delicious shiver up his spine.

Tallahassee ran his hand back down your body and underneath the back of your jean shorts and your thin panties. His hand rubs your bare ass for a few strokes before his fingertips venture further. He was able to reach far enough to begin to slowly stroke your clit. This time, it was your turn to shudder. He groaned at the immediate wetness that met him. It always amazed him how turned on you get by just pleasuring him. He continued to play with the soft flesh, his rough fingers against your clit almost enough to make you cum on the spot. Slowly, he inserted his middle finger and began to gently fingerfuck you. Your bobbing became more intense as you got more and more turned on.

Tallahassee plunged two of his fingers into your pussy that was begging for him and you groaned with approval. Tallahassee nearly came as you suddenly trembled and moaned around him. Trying your hardest to continue to pleasure him through your own haze of pleasure. When you started to feel that intense sensation you burst off of his cock, with a pop and screamed out as your first orgasm crashed through you.

As your intense pleasure subsided, you sat up and stared at him. Tallahassee stared back at you. you reached down, the hem of your shirt threaded through your fingers as you begin to move it up slowly, revealing more inches of skin every second. you pulled it over your head and revealed your breasts which he had told you were the best pair he'd ever seen. He reached over his right hand and placed it on your breast, gently squeezing it and you grinned.

You leaned back, your bare back resting against the passenger door and you slid off your shorts and panties, raising your ass slightly to easily glide them off and you spread your legs. Tallahassee stared at you for a moment like you were a full course meal, before turning his head to look and see if there were any zombies. It was very unlikely that a person would catch you. He turned back to look at you and saw that you had slid one of your hands down against your sex. You slowly inserted your middle finger, bit your lip, and closed your eyes. You moaned. Tallahassee’s cock twitched. He was slightly jealous of your middle finger at that moment.

You had one hand massaging your breasts while the other was giving you pleasure. As much as you could, but as soon as Tallahassee’s fingers had touched you, yours didn’t quite do the job as well as they had before.

Tallahassee started to strip while never taking his eyes off you. With all his clothes off, Tallahassee moved towards you. His hard on was raging, he struggled to contain himself. He wasn't touching himself, nor was he touching you yet, but he still could have cum just by looking at you pleasuring yourself.

He moved your hand as he lowered his head. You were slightly annoyed at the loss of contact, but he quickly made it up to you when his tongue made contact with your wet lips.

His tongue softly nestled between your folds felt so good; his mouth moved up, his tongue licking your clit, his nose hit your little button of nerves. You raised your ass slightly off seat trying to get him closer, deeper and begging for him to suck your swollen clit harder.

He inserted his middle finger into you, adding to the pleasure his tongue was already giving you. At your reaction, he added another finger, the speed slowly increasing, both his fingers and tongue moving in sync. You lift your ass again to try and get his fingers deeper, writhing against the leather seat as you chased your second orgasm.

You grind your hips against his tongue, still chasing and begging, “Don’t worry, darlin’” he spoke against your pussy, wet from your juices and his saliva, “I’m gonna give you what you need,” he promised. And he did just that. He inserted another finger, ramming the into you with such force that had you seeing stars. He curled them at just the right angle that pulls loads of sexy moans from your lips.

“fuck” and there it was, that feeling fast approaching once again. Your eyes scrunched closed and your mouth fell open, your moans getting increasingly louder. Your legs begin to shake violently as your orgasm tore through you. Tallahassee held your thighs open and continued to feast on you, the relentless lapping at your now sensitive pussy was getting painful but the best kind of pain.

But soon if became too much and you tried to wriggle away from him, “Tal please,” you begged and you were finally able to break his mouth away from you.

“I wasn’t finished,” he growled, licking the juices from his lips, and letting out a satisfied groaned, “The fuck was I looking for Twinkies for?” he asks, sitting up straight in his seat.

you giggle as you push him further back into his seat, throwing your right leg over his thighs and setting yourself on his lap again. your hand reaches between you to wrap around his cock. Your warm hand pumps it a few times before you lower yourself down on him, moans escaping both of your lips. His hands immediately clasp around your cheeks as you raise yourself slowly, far enough so that only his head was inside you, you clench around him slightly as you lower yourself back down, taking him fully inside. Your hands move to rest on the seat behind him as you start to pick up the pace.

Tallahassee grips your ass guiding you up and down his cock, slamming you down harder each time and you swear you can feel him get deeper each time.

You gasped, your eyes rolling back into your head at the feeling of him stretching you out and filling you completely. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving little half-moons in his skin. You threw your head back, your long hair sticking to your sweaty neck.

Your pussy clenched around him as you felt your third orgasm building, “Yes, yes, yes!”

His teeth sank into the flesh of your shoulder, not enough to break the skin but enough to leave a mark. The pain couple with the pleasure of his cock hitting the right spot, pushed you closer to the edge.

Tallahassee held you closer to his body, his arms wrapping around your waist as he begins to drill into you so hard, you thought your eyes might pop out. The leather seat creaked under the weight of your bodies as he chased his own release, the smell of sex and sweat mixing with the faint scent of alcohol that he always had in the car. Your moans grew louder, combined with the grunts and groans of Tallahassee.

He knew you were close. Your body begins to shake once more, your mouth falling open as you made all kinds of sounds. You tried to let him know you were close but your mind was mush and you were suddenly not capable of forming a word let alone a sentence.

“Come for me, baby,” he groaned, his voice deep and gravelly, and completely filled with sex, “Let me feel you come all over my cock,”

You felt yourself hurtling towards that brink. The tension in your core grew tighter and tighter until it was like a coiled spring about to snap. Your muscles tensed around him and your nails dug deeper into his shoulders. Your head fell back as you let out a scream, your orgasm crashing through you. Your pussy clenched and convulsed around him, milking him for everything he had to give you.

Yeah

You were pretty sure that’s where it happened. You ran a hand through your hair as you decide on what to tell Tallahassee… if you were going to tell him that is.

But still Colombus couldn’t keep his nose out and continuously kept asking you if you had told Tallahassee or when you were going to tell him. And you had had enough.

You either had to tell Tallahassee or shoot Colombus, and unfortunately, you didn’t think the latter would go down very well. But then again, you doubted the former would either.

So you went to your shared room and sat and waited for Tallahassee to finish his shower. Usually you’d join him. And when he asked you before he went in and you said no, it confused him. You had never declined before.

Finally, after what felt like a millennium, the sound of water stopped, and Tallahassee soon emerged from the bathroom in nothing but a towel hanging loosely around his hips. You took a moment to admire the view. You sexy ass cowboy standing almost naked in front of you, water droplets that you were suddenly jealous of that clung to his skin. You shake your head before you could dive into all the nasty things you want to do to him right now, and what you want him to do to you.

But now you had to be serious. Which was kinda concerning Tallahassee. Just a little.

“You okay, Darlin’?” he asked, you shrugged and motioned for him to sit down. He did, taking a seat beside you on the edge of the bed, “You’re worrying me, Darlin’”

“I kinda have something to tell you- but I don’t know how you’re gonna react,” you said and his eyes widened. He grabbed your arms and started inspecting them.

“You’re not bit are you?” he asked, still looking you over.

You shake your head, only nodding when he asks if you are sure, “I’m sure,”

“Then… what?”

You stood up and went over to the desk in the corner of the room. Tallahassee’s eyes followed your every move. Hidden under your notebook was the tests, you grabbed them and walked back over to Tallahassee. You held them up to show him.

“I’m pregnant,”

[askbensolo]

Journal Entry #55: Updates on my novel and also my life

So, the blurrg sex scene probably isn’t integral to the main thread of my novel. But, I’m hesitant to cut it because I think it would be kriffing hilarious to tell people there’s a sex scene in my story, only for them to find out two-thirds of the way in that it’s just two blurrgs blurrging it on.

Also, the fact that I witnessed it with my own two eyes on Ryloth means I have to share the trauma.

A few more no-context spoilers for fun:

Fannie’s Sisters Casually Emasculate Me Over Dinner

Fifty Teenage Twi’lek Boys, One Brain Cell

Pennie Pentarra is Not the Innocent Victim I Thought She Was

Ruut Pentarra Joins the Club of People Who Disapprove of Me Dating Fannie (But Because He Thinks I Could Do Better)

Fannie and I Spent the Night in a Sex Dungeon (Nothing Happened)

And also…

Fannie and I Broke Up (Again)

So! I’ve spoiled the ending for you! You don’t even need to read it!!

Did I write this post mainly because I didn’t know how else to announce my breakup? Maybe. Possibly.

It’s not like it’s a surprise or anything. I think we all saw it coming.

Well, except for her, maybe.

…

Well—anyway.

I thought writing a novel about my own life would be easy because I didn’t actually have to come up with the plot, but—there is actually an art to arranging the details in a way that flows and makes sense. So, even though I’m like 80% done with my first draft already…I know it’s kind of garbage at this point, and I’ll have to do quite a bit of polishing.

Luckily, I will have lots of time to do that! Because…I finally admitted to my mom about Snoke Part Two: The Snokening, and—as expected—she is making me quit my job and move back home immediately!!

And normally that would leave Poe paying 2,000 credits of monthly rent on his own, but in the interests of expediting my homecoming, my mom is graciously paying the difference until Poe can find another roommate.

Luckily, I know a guy. He threatened to kill me in the back of a Spacebucks once, but, eh—water under the bridge.

And speaking of ol’ stick-up-his-butt…

…I ended up paying back Armitage for all my “free” coffees.

Yeah. The Force made me do it—or something. Call it an early Life Day miracle.

I’ve been rethinking a lot, let’s just say that. I knew I could part with the credits, since I won’t be paying rent for the foreseeable future, and I’m gonna look for a new job on Hosnian Prime.

Ha. Armitage, Poe and Beebee-Ate. Now, I can see them all getting along reeaal well. Heh heh heh.

Sigh. I’m gonna miss Naboo, and miss Theed. I’ve spent the past three years of my life here.

…I miss Fannie too. I wish I hadn’t…well…yeah.

I’ll even miss Poe and Beebee-Ate. I’m leaving right as they were beginning to grow on me. Poe’s been a good buddy (even if I’ve seen his bare ass more times than I ever wanted to).

About the only thing I won’t miss is my job—but even then, it was part of my routine, something that made my days predictable in the bad way but also kind of in the good way, and it was a key part of my new life as an official grown-up adult-person-guy.

I’m gonna hang out with my old college bud Treeso one last time before I leave Naboo. And then I’m gonna put in my two weeks’ notice, pack up my stuff, try to sell whatever I can’t take home, and then…that’ll be that, I guess.

Goodbye, Naboo.

I feel like everything in my life is changing all at once. It’s…kind of sad.

But…that’s just how it goes. Isn’t it?

“Always in motion, is the future,” Fannie said, when we were breaking up.

“What?”

“The future. It’s always in motion.”

“Well, yeah—but why’d you say it backwards, the first time?”

“I don’t know,” she said, surprised, like she’d never thought about it before. “That’s just always the way Master Luke said it.”

And speaking of Uncle Luke…

…Mom wants me to start meeting with him again.

…It’s okay. Fannie and I aren’t a thing anymore anyway, so…

…Yeah.

My twenty-fourth birthday is in a couple of weeks. I was originally gonna do something for it, ‘cause I have ongoing December-birthday-overshadowed-by-Life-Day trauma—but…meh. I’m too busy now to celebrate. Twenty-four’s pretty much the same thing as twenty-three anyway.

Hey—sorry I haven’t written as much, the past month. (Well, I’ve been writing a lot—just, not for my blog.) But…I’ll try to keep you guys updated on my move, and whatever. Happy to answer any questions about my writing project, too.

Oh—but do me a favor and don’t…ask Fannie about my trip to Ryloth, or anything. Some…stuff happened while I was there—I mean, besides the breakup—and…well, I think it’s just best if you don’t ask. I’m not sure it’s something she’d like to talk about.

Hope everyone is staying warm and enjoying season’s festivities and punching germs in the face and all that.

Me—I’m doing pretty okay, too.

You know me. I always pull through.

Your dude,

—Ben

[jenyifer]

I love Boston and he deserves Nick.

I get a lot of flack for having the chaos boys as my favorite duo of only friends. Sooo allow me to rant about my reasoning here. I get a lot of ‘ohhh you must like the sex scenes bet you like VegasPete’. No… actually… Sex is just a part of adult life. Im personally not interested in dick but I do like my characters to be realistic. Being promiscuous doesn’t make you an evil person. That isn’t my lifestyle but I can respect people who live that way. What I love about Boston is his confident persona that clashed with his smart cunning underbelly. I don’t think he’s malicious or narcissistic. Boston is a confident gay man who is loyal to his friends only. Now you might say wtf to that understandable but in Boston’s head he has done nothing wrong except let Nick get too close. Top is like him and in his logic Boston called dibs. He knew he’d be there for Mew when things went down but he didn’t expect everyone to find out about him and top. Boston probably thought he was accelerating to the end to protect his friend. I think this is also why he tells Sand Ray’s ass is fully owned by Mew. In Bostons mind he was helping Ray cut the bullshit. Boston is honest 90% of the time which makes him our most reliable character. AND YET WE HAVE YET TO REALLY GET HIS POV we know so much about him without being in his chaos mind. Do you know how impressive that is? We can also see Boston change from the start of the series being heavily effected by his fights with Top Mew Nick and Ray. He isn’t a 2d boy who falls in love and magically is fixed. While I think he knows what his feelings for Nick mean He intellectually has made the decision to reject him which makes me want their relationship to work out even more.

As far as Nick his oversteps are pretty normal for someone with too much tech knowledge on his hands. Yes it’s wrong. But terribly tempting when you have access to it and see how the world regards privacy as a fiction. I like how Nick tries his best to not fall for Boston it’s extremely endearing. Nicks heart wins out every time. I’ve been in have relationships with people that others say “hey that person is trash” but to me I like to look beyond the surface. Everyone has their own motivation. Everyone has their own struggle with social things so… it’s not fair to judge someone too quickly. Sometimes you click with someone forever changed with the touch of a hand. It’s not some fairytale. Nick wants to see Boston be happy and for him to actually see Nick is at his side. No matter what Boston does. Because regardless of other people their spark remains. Unfinished and true. Honest and Nasty. Chaos.

Together Boston and Nick make eachother better. Boston looks outside himself more often and Nick gains confidence. They do balance eachother out. I don’t feel like one is really the hunter and the other is the prey. They are both Savage it’s just Nick is quieter than Boston so gets out in the shadow. I’m excited to get to the point where they are both chasing eachother and hit into one another again.

[marshmallowprotection]

out of curiosity why do you hc rika as a lesbian? :)

I don't know many people in this fandom who don't headcanon Rika as a lesbian, to be honest with you. In fact, it's been a long time since I've seen anyone write her any other way.

In my eyes, I've always read into Rika as someone who reflected on her sexuality later in life because her traumatic experience with the Catholic church made her bury anything about herself that didn't fit with whatever the church believed (I.E. the Pastor and her Abusive Parents).

How could she think about who she liked when she had to focus on surviving? How could she think about having crushes and having a normal childhood when all she knew was suffering? How could she openly experience crushes when her family would've hurt her for it? Rika knew that openly expressing anything that went against what the church and her abusive parents believed would hurt her. She'd learned to try and keep quiet and stay small, but even that couldn't protect her.

She never thought about her romantic feelings for others growing up. She didn't think she was worthy of love! Had she been able to grow in a safe, warm environment, I think it would've been easier for her to sit down and reflect on her feelings towards other people enough to see that she was sapphic. That she had feelings for girls instead of boys. That she felt like herself around other girls and wanted to explore it more freely.

Rika yearned to be loved her entire childhood, just as much as I think she yearned to love in return.

Rika was taught that she was the devil from a young age, a devil for simply existing as an orphan girl with trauma who could never make the adults who were hurting her happy, and she internalized so much self-hatred because of that. Her experience with love isn't healthy for the most part. She latched onto Jihyun Kim because she wanted the chance to become him. She wanted to be him. Her love for him, in my opinion, wasn't never her being "in love" with him.

Does that mean she didn't love him? No, I do think she loved him in her own way, but I don't think she was in IN LOVE with him.

Rather, Rika was in love with the idea of being in love with Jihyun and in love with the idea of becoming Jihyun. She wanted to love him, at first, especially, she wanted to be in love with him, she wanted a life with him, she wanted everything with him because he felt like a God and a Savior to her life that felt miserable up until that point, but the longer she spent with him, the less it felt like love and the more it felt like obsession.

She was in love with the idea of escaping her demons, and to her, V was her dream. If she could become him, she would no longer be the devil, she would be V, a savior, a sun, a perfect lift that could do not a single thing wrong.

I think it's very easy for a lot of people to look at Rika's story from the perspective of a closeted lesbian who grew up in an abusive Catholic household, who never had the opportunity to think about what she'd like out of life because her family made the decisions for her ahead of time, and anything that deviated from what they wanted would have her face their wrath.

I've had a few friends with the same story as Rika in that sense, they tried to follow the expectation their family set up for them. They tried to force themselves into that role and they were miserable because of that. They kept trying to be someone they weren't, and someone they could never be, and only when they were able to be honest with their feelings and what they knew in their heart, did things start to change for the better in their lives.

You can't force your way into being someone you're not. All you do is make yourself miserable in the process. The world would be a damn better place if we didn't have to deal with homophobia and the effect the Christian church has on young people who are told they will go to hell for simply loving someone. My family did and said a lot of things to me because of my sexuality, before I even understood who I was or my feelings, all because of people using the bible to spout vitriol and hatred.

It's miserable to have to live in hiding growing up, feeling like you have no choice but to hide away to learn and explore your feelings without the fear of someone screaming at you or worse. So, when I think about Rika, myself, and I know many others, look at Rika and find a sense of kinship.

Headcanons are just headcanons, after all. My viewing Rika as a lesbian brings me some comfort and it ain't hurting nobody.

[yukine-sakamoto]

I finished The Golden Compass a couple days ago, so here’s some thoughts. I enjoyed it. The world building is quite good, and there’s a lot of interesting fantasy elements that are encountered along the journey that make the world very rich. Unfortunately, I feel like there wasn’t much interaction with any one of the elements specifically, but I hope there will be in the next books. The compass itself was obviously important and the main piece of fantasy in this part. I thought it was a really fun way to write divination that I haven’t really seen before. The fact it’s a a little machine that Lyra has to click through and interpret is very satisfying to me. It felt slightly more exact than a lot of other representations of fortune telling and such.

The daemons were very fun as well. I feel like I’ve seen animal companions done before, and I don’t know if this is the first one, but it’s definitely the most well done I’ve seen. It felt fun and slightly frivolous at first, but in a way that added depth to the characters. However, as the story goes along and more about the daemons is revealed, it becomes really heartfelt. I was genuinely saddened by the scenes with Tony Markarios and afraid for Lyra and Pan when they were almost severed. It’s a really interesting concept to basically have your soul manifest outside the body. I wish there had been more exploration of what each daemon form said about the characters, like what the seagull fisherman talked to Lyra about. Some are quite obvious on their own. Asriel having a snow leopard makes a lot sense, for example. It was mentioned briefly that it was rare to have same-sex daemons, and I want to know more about that too.

I liked hearing about life at Jordan, but I felt it dragged on a little bit. Similarly with the part with Mrs. Coulter in London. Perhaps it’s because I had a hard time identifying with Lyra. I was never much for roughhousing at that age. But it also might be because I was impatient to get to the meat of the story. I do feel like Lyra is a bit of strange child though. This is somewhat true of all young fantasy protagonists I feel. They have to deal with things well beyond what’s normal, and for the sake of the story, have to be fairly comfortable with that. Lyra is younger than a normal YA protagonist, and at that age, I think, you tend to not fully understand danger, and Lyra is shown to be bolder than most kids. But even still, she watched several adults and children die and didn’t really seem phased by it. Briefly sad for Tony but she moved on pretty quickly. And she’s a little more competent than I would expect of someone who had never had a formal education. (Not that kids aren’t smart, they just haven’t been around all that long)

The story itself was a bit strangely paced at some points. It felt like a good chunk was mainly for exposition for the world and the series rather than to progress the current plot. I don’t mind a little bit of that, I mean I really like world building. However, it felt like there were a lot of scenes where Lyra would meet someone and they would infodump for a few pages. Sometimes the character would be sharing a story, but it still felt a little tell rather than show. Plus, later on in the journey, Lyra kept passing out in between scenes. It felt she would be awake for a couple hours to have a conversation and then lights out until the next plot point. I suppose you get more tired when it’s that cold but still.

I liked Iorek, but I’m little confused about what he thinks of Lyra. (It was a bit odd that she started calling him “my dear” at the end too) It’s mentioned in the book that although he seems to care for here, that’s what he ordered to do by John Faa, so perhaps he’s just doing as he’s told. Most of the time he seems completely above all the human bullshit going on around him, and honestly I respect that. It makes his tone hard to read, but maybe that’s the point. It’s mentioned that bears are difficult for humans to understand. I want to know more about their relationship to their armor as well.

I liked the gyptians too. They seemed very friendly and egalitarian. John Faa and Fader Coram were very nice, and so were the Costas. I don’t know if they’re supposed to be Egyptian or what. They never seem to leave the sea near northern Europe which is pretty far from Egypt. I did think it was funny that Lyra got so far from home to this strange Marshland with this strange people who clearly have a different way of life than she’s used to, yet their grand meeting hall was eerily similar to the great hall at Jordan. A bunch of chairs at the head of room where some import men sit and make all the decisions. Not really so foreign then, but John seemed to do a good job of listening to his people and fully addressing their concerns. It’s nice to see.

Lee Scorsby is such a plot point. He just sort of got swept away, literally, when he wasn’t needed anymore. The witches were kind of the same way. There wasn’t too much given about their lives other than a few hints and a general air of mystery. It was kind of sad to see Fader Coram pining after this ageless woman who could only know him as tiny fraction of her life.

Asriel and Mrs. Coulter are the worst parents, just the worst people really. Neither seems care about hurting anyone even kids to get what they want, or even caring about whether their ambitions are worth it. It’s my way or the highway for both of them. The description of their kiss while their daemons are fighting was very strange to me. I had a hard time deciphering the all the underlying emotions. Overall they just seem very toxic in general and especially to each other. It’s very casually mentioned that Asriel has some kind of ability to summon things which I need much more explanation of.

I thought it was odd too how much time was spent describing the Aurora but not the bridge to the other world. Asriel seems to plug a cable into… the sky(?) and then it’s just there. Or something is there, we don’t know exactly what except that you can walk through it. There’s no description of what it looks like other than the fact that you can see the other side.

Anyway, there’s lots of questions still and I’m excited to find out the answers. I’m hoping all the exposition and dangling plot hooks will come together and I’m excited to get the full picture.

[intoanotherworld23]

Love On Camera II

Pairing: Reader x Chris Evans

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY DNI, smut in this part, oral female receiving

Summary: You had always wanted to become a famous actress one day, you just never thought it would be as an adult film actress, and your first movie happens to be with the devastatingly handsome Chris Evans

✨Please do not copy and paste my work or steal my work or publish my work or I will have you reported✨

Part 1 Part 3

The schedules were out and it looks like you were already scheduled with Chris. What seems to be multiple times too.

Guess the ratings went through the roof with you two. Apparently yours and Chris's video was the most watched video in one night. It made you feel good hearing people were already in love with you.

You really mind doing the rest of your films with Chris anyway, but they told you it didn't work like that. In the world of adult film you had to make movies with people you weren't interested in.

Although you really were looking forward to doing another film with Chris. It had your lips feeling numb, and the tips of your fingers tingling.

Laying on the couch watching random shows you heard a loud knock on the door. Muting the television as you stood up to go see who was at the door.

You weren't expecting anyone nor did you know anybody else in the city. Maybe it was the wrong door, and they didn't realize it. This was someone you didn't expect though to be standing on the other side with a huge smile.

"Chris." You stated looking him up and down. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I would drop by and come see you." Shoving his hands in his pockets as you stood there shocked.

"How did you find out where I lived?" Scrunching your eyebrows at him.

"The office gave it to me." He said like it was no big deal. "I hope that's okay."

A part of you wanted to say yes it did bother you, but you were afraid you would then lose him. Not wanting to risk that you put on a big smile and welcomed him in.

"Of course not it just surprised me." He walked in as you shut the door behind him. He looked around checking the place out making you a little nervous.

"Nice place you got here." He complimented and you just nodded.

"Is there something you needed?" Asking out of curiosity crossing your arms underneath your breasts.

"Not really I just thought we could hang out." His voice became soft making you feel bad for sounding harsh for his drop by.

"Sorry I just didn't expect you would want to see me outside of work." You choked out the last word. "If that's what you call it."

"No I'm sorry I should have asked if this was okay." He seemed nervous almost like he didn't know how to act.

"It's actually nice to have some company." You smiled to whir he returned. "Since I don't know anybody here."

"Well let's get this party started." He hollered clapping his hands together making you laugh.

"Party for just two people?" Raising an eyebrow.

"Even better." He wiggled his eyebrows at you making your cheeks heat up.

The two of you talked for quite some time about each other. You got to find out that he had a brother and two sisters. He grew up normally from you understood.

Admitting he loved sex and the feeling it always have him, so he decided to get paid to have sex. He started off as a low ranking actor who only got small roles in commercials. He wasn't happy with his life so he made the decision, and he's glad that he did.

Afraid to tell his family what he was doing for the past year, but they accepted him still anyway. It was never brought up whenever he came home for holidays though.

When he did mention sex though the air around the two of you became heavy. It was like there was always this pull towards him you couldn't control. It was intoxicating but also very dangerous.

The way he looked into your eyes and just stared had your heart beating so fast. It was getting hard to swallow the longer you were talking with him. You started to feel that pressure between your legs again. Clenching your thighs together to help ease the ache.

"You got anything to drink around here?" He asked as he stood up.

"Yeah I'll get it." You told him making him sit back down as you headed to the kitchen. "I've got water, soda, tea, vodka, whiskey, tequila you name it I've got it."

"I'll take tequila." With a nod you stood in the kitchen and grabbed a cup with some ice.

Grabbing the bottle you stood with your back to him. You could feel his eyes on you the whole time. Suddenly the room became very quiet and tense. Holding the bottle in your hand it sounded like something moved behind you.

Slowly pouring the liquid into the glass you felt a warm body standing right behind you. Keeping your head down as your breathing became shallow.

As if time was slowing down feeling him press right up against your figure. Your eyes focusing on the still empty glass. Unable to move or feel like you could even breath.

Feeling his hot breath fanning across your neck making the hairs on your skin stand straight. His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled your body back against his. Dropping the bottle back onto the counter.

His lips softly grazing your exposed neck kissing the skin making you moan. The stubble on his face rubbing against your shoulder as he moved his lips around your neck and shoulder. Your hard nipples pushing painfully against your shirt.

"God I want you so bad." He growled into your ear making you close your eyes.

Leaning your head back against his chest as you let him take over. His touch was so gentle but sensual at the same time. If you weren't wet before you were right now.

"I got to feel how tight that pussy was for me." His left hand moved down your hips moving towards your front. "Now I want a taste."

Gasping as your felt his warm hand reach inside your sweatpants cupping your pussy. His mouth open slightly as he felt how soaked you had become cause of him.

"Fuck baby all for me?" He teased as his pointer and middle finger rubbed up and down your folds. Hearing the sound of your wet pussy as he slid his fingers down.

Feeling yourself moving your hips around to get more of a feel for his fingers. Chuckling into your ear at how easily he could control you.

"Such a dirty little slut." That was the first time he's called you that, and you loved it.

His other hand gripped your hip as he twirled you around to face him. Sticking the same two fingers that were just inside you into his mouth. Groaning against his fingers as licked your juices off.

Standing there in awe that a man could make you feel this way. Something as simple as licking his fingers had you wanting to bend over this counter.

Grabbing you swiftly as he placed you on top of the counter making you squeal. Maintaining eye contact with you the whole time as he gripped your pants, pulling them down your legs, throwing them to the side.

"Little pussy all wet for me." He spoke as he looked down between your legs. Your pussy glistening in his view making him lick his lips.

Getting down on his knees as he spread your legs apart by keeping his hands on your ankles. Keeping yourself balanced by leaning on your hands.

He started to kiss from your ankle all the way up to your inner thigh. Every other kiss he would glance up at you to see how crazy he was driving you. Your mouth was opened as shallow breaths left your lungs.

His mouth was inches from your folds, and you found yourself lifting your hips just wanting to feel his tongue. He chuckled at your eagerness, and instead of teasing you more he placed his entire mouth on your wet folds.

Leaning your head back as you moaned out loud. Sticking his tongue out so he could slowly lick you from the bottom of your pussy to your clit that was now poking out.

"Oh fuck Chris." Moaning louder than you intended, but it just felt too good.

Doing that movement over and over again. He started to draw figure eights against your folds. Teasingly sticking his tongue inside you very fast quickly pulling it out making you gasp.

"You taste even sweeter than you look." He groaned as he licked your pussy again.

It was hot to hear him talk about you like this while he was on his knees. You've never felt more powerful than where you were sitting right now.

His tongue was moving faster this time as he rapidly moved it up and down against your pussy. Flicking his tongue around your clit making your squeal as you gripped his hair. He loved how sensitive you were.

"God yes lick my pussy Chris." Those words were enough motivation for him to turn into the animal he was meant to be.

For several minutes he kept the same pattern and rhythm up without breaking a beat. Your hands went from gripping his hair to gripping the edge of the counter. Unable to control your body or hands anymore.

"Feel my tongue baby." He encouraged you not to think too much and just feel. "Imagine my cock."

He then would trace circles around your clit for a few seconds, and then slurp your pussy. He was eating you out like you were legit his favorite meal, and he couldn't get enough of you.

He kept that same movement up until he felt your legs shaking against his hands. Burying his face between your legs as he stuck his tongue inside of you growling when he felt your insides clenching around his tongue.

"That's it sweet baby." He cooed up at you as he maintained his eye contact with what was between your legs. "Feed me."

Looking down to see his mouth practically swallowing your entire pussy. Grinding your hips against his face trying to feel more of his tongue. His hands keeping a grip on your knees to keep you open and spread for him.

Feeling your lower stomach tightening you knew you were seconds away from cumming on his face. Your moans filling the room you were glad at this moment you didn't have a roommate otherwise that would have been embarrassing.

"Ugh yes right there." Encouraging him to not lose the spot that had you seeing stars.

Chris knew you were close as his mouth left your pussy and started to suck on your now swollen clit making you scream. Your legs were shaking and your eyes were rolling into the back of your head.

"God yes yes yes." Squealing through your tightly bit teeth.

Making eye contact with him as you felt your orgasm swiftly approaching you. His tongue felt so good you could stay like this forever. You were never one to be eaten out like this, but if he were the one doing it all the time you wouldn't mind it.

"Cum around my face baby." He commanded you as he stuck his tongue back in your pussy.

At the same time he moved one of his hands so his fingers could flick your clit as well. It was like a fire was being ignited inside of you, and you were about to lose control.

Your senses were becoming overwhelmed and your body was basically grinding against him and the counter. Feeling the urge to pee you kept trying to push his head away from you but he stayed right where he was.

"Shit I'm gonna cum Chris." You moaned almost as a warning but that only encouraged him to move his tongue and fingers faster.

Chris moved his hands then to your hips when he felt your pussy squeezing around his tongue. He knew you were close, and he planned to bring you to your orgasm. Your thighs clenching around his head as you tried not to suffocate him.

Your stomach tightening as you felt your release hitting you quickly. Chris swallowed every last drop of you and he groaned loudly as he did it. Your body started to relax when you were coming down from you high. 

"Oh my god." You panted as you felt a drop of sweat roll down your back.

Chris stood up as he kept his hands on your hips. A layer of your arousal covering the scruff around his lips. Taking his fingers and wiping it off then sticking those fingers inside of his mouth groaning at the taste of you.

You sat there out of breath and satisfied. He looked across your face to make sure you were okay. Once you weakly smiled at him he placed his lips against yours, and you could taste yourself on his tongue.

Placing your hands on his hips as the two of you made out on top of the counter. It was like he couldn't get enough of you, and had to feel every inch of your body.

"Next time you're sitting on my face." He joked as he poured himself a drink shooting the whole glass smirking when he set the glass down.