#ooc // calm and collected... for now

[bcneheaded]

eagerly awaiting the day artemis gets to accidentally or otherwise go absolutely ham in front of one of his friends, acquaintances, or apprentice(s) (your muse) and scares the ever-loving hell outta them

[pan1ck1ng-alla-mamb0]

Jelletonial Designation Document =================================== Main Designation: Panicking Alla Mambo #46 Side Designation: "Samba" Status: Functioning Floor Assigned: "Scampering(Between-Crosshairs)_Covered.Floor" Serial Number: PAM-146-030124 Any Issues Witnessed?: None currently. Document Written By: "Order" (Seperate Note: Refrain from splitting them from Towering Nobilmente #84, they will either begin sobbing like a child or they will grow violent and protective of said Nobilmente. Is relatively friendly towards the others when it is with the Nobilmente, keep in mind its natural skittishness however) =================================== (OOC Note: Hello from the Coop! Samba is now open to being interacted with along with Mento! I will provide links to both of them on my main acc! Hopefully you'll enjoy your time with these two losers! Just be wary of the separate notes!)

[selfishdoll]

NOW PLAYING…. TOUCH

Just back into it, and let it touch

JJK MEN & THEIR REACTIONS TO YOU USING THEIR CROTCH TO SHOW OFF YOUR NAILS

ft. kashimo hajime, gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, & takuma ino.

cw: modern au (?), suggestive content (ofc) ooc characters(?), reader being a little shit, etc.

i’ve always found this tiktok trend adorable, and thought it would be nice to write hcs on with them. these are unedited so excuse typos and other mistakes. i might do more later.

KASHIMO HAJIME.

the nail designs you chose were cute, but a little cheesy. a simple cyan base with purple lighting bolts on each ring finger.

you came back from the shop to spot kashimo resting on your couch, clearly tired from either fighting a curse or general working out. you tapped him, showcasing your nails the moment you got his attention. hajime would only give you a small smirk, leaning his head back again to rest.

the idea would then pop into your head, softly declaring you needed to take a picture to show your friend. he didn’t care enough to respond.

but, that quickly changed when you sat beside him, resting your hand right on his crotch.

what are you doing?

you shushed him a bit, declaring his white pants were a perfect background. a plausible excuse, one that he believed less and less when he realized you were massaging him through his pants.

he allowed it to go on for a moment before he snatched your wrist, pulling you closer to him.

don’t start something you can’t finish, [y/n].

and well, you spent the rest of that evening facing the consequences of your actions. you never did send that picture.

GOJO SATORU.

probably asked you to get his tip color. you refused, much to his dismay.

you settled on a pretty blue and white design, curtesy of his eyes and hair. you sent a picture of it to him while in the shop; your lover hearting the image instantly.

on the way home, you were scrolling through your tiktok feed and came across the trend. a cheshire like grin covered your features soon after.

making it home, gojo wasn’t busy with anything, simply sitting on the couch and watching some random show. he greeted you and attempted to get touchy, only for you to declare you had to take a picture of your nails first.

just use the one you sent me?

no, baby, i wanna use a different one.

although confused, the man shrugged a bit, focus turning back to the tv. you sat on the couch beside him, humming as your phone hovered above your hand that rested on your thigh. taking a quick glance to assure he wasn’t looking, you reached over, placing your hand right on his crotch.

gojo noticed you instantly, eyes falling from the tv screen and over to your hand, eyebrows pinched close. he said nothing however, simply watching you closely. the moment you began to rub him, however, he was adjusting his hips eyes lifting to yours, adoring an are you serious? expression.

what’s wrong? you tried to play dumb, all while your hand still moved, not so secretly anymore. gojo would only grin at you, pretty dimples exposed, turning back to the tv.

nothing.

in that moment his hand reached over to your bare thigh, gently tapping it; fingers stroking the inside of them.

this had now became a game of who would crack first.

and much to your dismay, you always did.

GETO SUGURU.

your choice of design was a black base with his initials on each ring finger. when sending a picture to the man he complimented them, and was clearly happy his name was on your fingers.

you had been planning to do the trend on him the moment you saw it, booking an appointment the next day. you just wanted to see his reaction, to see if your normally calm and collected boyfriend would react differently.

you were basically rushing into the house the moment you locked your car, entering to spot him on the couch reading a book. you two greeted each other with a soft kiss the moment you walked over.

you really like my nails, suguru?

mhm.

lemme show gojo. you hummed, pulling your phone from your pocket. you bit the inside of your cheek, reaching over and planting your hand right on his crotch. you felt his eyes on you for a moment before they drifted back to his book. which, frustrated you.

and so, you adjusted your hand, a false mumble of needing a better angle exiting you. except the adjusting didn’t stop, seeing as you began to gradually rub your palm up and down his crotch.

you jumped a bit as he shut his book closed, grabbing your wrist and pushing it against his hardening length even more.

now, you deal with it? understand?

NANAMI KENTO.

much to nanami’s embarrassment, you used his tip color. he tried to talk you out of it, but it happened. how they color matched it was above him. and why you did such a thing was above him as well. but, he did have to admit the nails were still pretty.

when you got home the man was busy with some paperwork at his desk, grumbling to himself every once in a while. you walked over with a gentle smile, watching his tense shoulders fall the moment you made your presence known.

you then showed off your nails, nanami simply shaking his head with a smile.

you got a bit needy the moment his eyes turned back to his desk however, biting the inside of your cheek before a brilliant idea popped into your mind. you find a chair beside his desk, scooting a bit close to his own. which wasn’t suspicious, you did that often.

what was suspicious was you reaching over, placing your hand onto his crotch.

[y/n]…

just trynna get a good picture. your pants are the perfect color. the excuse left you quickly, hearing the man sigh softly to himself but allowing your hand to remain there.

that was until, you began to carefully slide your hand up and down his crotch— back and forth. nanami didn’t left it go on for long before he was grabbing you by the forearm, pulling you up from your chair and over to his lap.

oh, ken, your paperwork..

that can wait. can’t ignore you when you’re being so damn needy..

TAKUMA INO.

to ino’s surprise, you somehow got your nail lady to carefully draw his masked face on your ring finger. the moment you sent the picture he was amazed and very happy. something you found adorable.

so of course you decided to toy with him.

coming home you spotted the man not really doing anything, simply resting on the couch. he smiled up at you, eyes following you as you walked over to sit beside him. his arm came to wrap around you, the two of you sitting in silence for a moment; simply watching tv.

until you swore softly, pulling your phone from your pocket. gotta take a picture for a friend.. you would mumble, something ino barely acknowledged.

the moment your hand was on his crotch, however, his eyes fell from the tv quickly, staring down at your hand.

uh, y/n…

sorry baby, just gotta use your pants. you claimed, the man muttering nervous ok, going completely still— clearly not wanting to mess up your photo. you smiled at this, nearly feeling bad for what you were about to do to him.

slowly you carried your palm up and down his crotch, feeling the hand on your hip twitch. continuing the facade, you tilted your phone every so often, attempting to find the correct position; all while poor ino attempted to calm his rising hard on. he tried so hard too.

just as you felt his hard length through his sweats, you snapped a photo, rising from the couch— placing a chaste kiss to his cheek on the way.

thanks baby, imma take a quick shower.

needless to say, ino was a bit confused and disappointed, only able to give you a small nod— watching you walk away. ignorant to the fact you were holding in your laughter.

[scribs-dibs]

cherry wine

(separate) belle & wise, gn reader, kinda ooc... because im still early game i think..., late-night proofreading. godspeed if ur reading this 🫶🏾

wc; ~1.7k total

phaethon can navigate hollows with ease. but a crush?

Wise does not hear any of the words that play loudly on the screen in front of him. He doesn’t care to. Though this is one of his favorites– his brain is occupied by you just sitting here, beside him.

The documentary buzzes on about its topic, but Wise can’t make out a word over the sound of his rapidly beating heart. He’s stiff– sat up straight as a board even if the soft cushions of the couch beckon him to do otherwise. He can’t think. Usually he is the one who can iron out the folds of a situation, a cool collected mind built to play in contrast to his sister. But now his thoughts are a mess- contorted underneath the blunt of his embarrassment. If Belle were here now, she’d laugh right in his face.

It’s her fault he’s in this mess to begin with.

(“You suck at hiding it, you know,” Belle is at his side in the doorway, waving you goodbye for the day. Her words make him jolt.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Your crush, obviously.”

Wise is almost sure that for a moment, his heart stops beating. He barely manages to suppress the gasp that threatens to spill out of his throat.

Instead he brushes it off, turns on his heel pointedly and shakes his head from a sudden bout of fake-exhaustion.

“Okay. I’m calling it a night—”

“You’re probably not the only one to like them, Wise.”

He stops in his tracks.

Because she's right. In the months the two have come to know you, you've been the kind, helpful neighbor who has helped them through thick and thin. You are known on Sixth Street, a regular name heard from store to store— he'd be foolish to think that he's the only one that has warmth bloom in his chest at the sight of you. Damn.

“Buuut,” Belle nudges him playfully on the shoulder, her signature smile making her eyes crinkle at the edges, “You could be the first to make a move.”

“Belle–”

“I’ll even help! Come on Wise!”)

And now he’s here, with his heart fit to burst out of his chest.

“So…uh,”

Your attention is on him now, the smoothness of his voice pulling you from the visuals of the movie. Little does he know, Wise is a pleasant sight for the eyes. He has a soft, lopsided smile, and his complexion is tinted with warmth because of his room’s dim lighting. (It’s strange, though, that the more you look the more intense it seems to get.) His eyes are usually crystal clear and focused, but now they are glossed over with something that looks like unease.

The longer you stare, the harder his heart beats against his ribcage. It’s not fair, truly. You’ve only sat next to him and looked in his direction, yet his face feels like it burns and his tongue is too heavy to form proper words. Movies are his thing. Belle had suggested this because it should be easy. But he can’t think straight when butterflies are soaring in his stomach.

At the very least, he wants to see if you’re even enjoying the documentary, so he wills his mouth to do something other than open and immediately snap shut.

“Do you…like me?”

The movie. He meant the movie. The sentence was supposed to be: Do you like the movie.

There is something pitiful, Wise thinks, in how he scrambles to make up for his botched words. The calm, steady tones of his voice are replaced by chopped up mix-mashes of sentences, trying desperately to weave into something coherent.

To no avail of course.

His mouth can’t seem to stop now that it’s started, fragment after fragment tumbling freely out of his mouth– like it has a mind of its own. He’s flushed up to the ears, the pink flush to his skin now all- encompassing. His mouth just keeps moving– until you manage to stop it with your own.

You can feel his breath hitch in his throat. Wise doesn’t think he deserves a reward this good after fumbling so badly, but when your lips brush against his he can’t find it in himself to be truly upset. You are pulling at the edges of his jacket, hands digging hard into the material to ensure he doesn’t try to pull away. You can’t stand to see him apologize for crossing some sort of nonexistent line– your feelings are returned.

“Does that answer your question?”

Wise has to take a moment to breathe. The kiss was a short little thing, one that was chaste in nature– you just wanted him to be sure of your own feelings. The blue-green of his eyes are focused on you– truly focused, this time, not a fleeting glance that is quickly cast away.

“Wise?”

Your voice snaps him out of the daze he was in.

“Yeah. Yeah, but,”

It’s his turn to pull you in this time– subtly soft hands cupping your cheeks.

“Would you mind ‘answering’ me again?”

Belle is someone you’ve always looked up to.

She’s sweet and smart, and throughout all your errands throughout Sixth Street she’s always available to lend a hand. You couldn’t find a paper long enough to list all the reasons you’re grateful for her presence.

That being said, when you’re face to face with her, you can’t quite seem to get yourself together.

“C’mon, you’re not going easy on me, are you?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Belle pouting, brows furrowed and bottom lip jutted out. It’s adorable, and you’re so taken that you fully run into her snake on the arcade machine.

It was her idea to go out once the day had come to a close. The sun still hangs lazily in the sky, casting everything in gold. The arcade is a place where you can relax after being pulled this way and that by different people around town. This time, Belle joins you, offhandedly mentioning how she also needs to destress from such a long day at work.

You’re a bit distracted, though, when the neon lights reflect in her eyes and make her smile that much more radiant.

“You’re not answering…” Belle gasps, complete with a theatrical hand to her chest, “You are, aren’t you!”

“No, of course not! I just,” It dawns on you that the arcade is nearly empty, and suddenly this one-on-one game of snake seems far more intimate than it actually is. It’s just you and her. You can’t help but feel a bit giddy on the inside– the excitement must deal a blow to your accuracy.

“I’m just off my game, that’s all.”

Belle hums, contemplative. You can’t help but feel worried when the gears of her brain start turning.

“In that case…That just means we need to up the steaks!”

“Up the steaks?”

She nods, and her smile grows more devious by the second.

“Mhm! Let’s say…” Belle taps her chin, and though she is putting on a show of trying to think of something, you have a sneaking suspicion that she has already decided what it is she’s after, “The loser has to give something to the winner?”

You know, distantly, that this has to play into Belle’s hands somehow. But she’s never done you any harm, and her eagerness is so palpable that you can’t help but concede.

“Alright, alright. Fine.”

There is nothing but the buzz and click of the machine for a while, and Belle was right– the new motivation lights a fire underneath you, and suddenly your nerves are replaced by a burning desire to win. You don’t know what you’ll ask for if you do– by the time you two are finished here, with the score finally settled, you’re sure most of Sixth Street’s shops will be closed. But you want to win.

You swerve at the last minute to avoid Belle’s snake, grabbing a diamond on the tile in front by the skin of your teeth. But Belle has always been sneaky, able to pull a last-minute change in a situation with ease. She cuts a sharp turn, and the rest of her snake is able to encircle yours. You watch with a sickly sense of dread as your snake breaks into itty-bitty pieces.

You heave a sigh– at least it was a good game. But you’re still soured at the loss of a win that was so close.

“Aww, what’s wrong?” Belle is grinning, eyes forming little crescents, “Don’t tell me you’re a sore loser…”

You roll your eyes, but you’re far too endeared to be properly annoyed.

“’Course not. You won,”

The arcade’s lights have started to dim by now, the peachy-colored sky dipped into inky darkness as you step out.

“Even if you were sneaky about it.”

“Was not!”

You glare out of the corner of your eye, and again you are met with a playful pout.

“What is it you want, anyway?” You busy yourself with walking a few steps ahead, avoiding her moonlit face as much as possible. How can you put up a fight when she looks at you like that?

“Well,” Belle gazes upon the shops along Sixth Street, their windows dark and their doors closed, “Everything is closed for the night, looks like. I’ll have to get a bit creative, huh?”

Belle’s footsteps grow louder, and before you know it she’s made her way in front of you, eyes full of starlight.

“How about…”

She takes slow, calculated steps toward you, and your heart leaps in your throat.

“A kiss?”

Belle is but a few inches away from you, her head tilted and her gaze soft. Her voice is quiet and unusually meek as she says it, like her confidence had reached its limit.

“…O-of course, if you don’t want to–”

You pull her in before you can second-guess yourself. Her lips are plush, and though she is initially surprised by your sudden movement, it takes barely a second for you to feel them smile against your own. Her arms link around you like it’s the easiest thing she’s ever done, and the silver-tinted street is drowned out like it never mattered.

When you part, her face is flushed a pretty shade of pink. You aren’t better off– you’re so happy that you now stand on wobbly legs.

“Happy now?”

“Hm, not quite. I think you should give me another.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

ty for reading! rbs w/comments are appreciated!

[sweetpascal]

— 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫

pairing: general marcus acacius x fem!reader

summary: unsure of whether or not your husband is alive leading his army's invasion, the only method of tranquility is by reaching into your past memories as a necessary distraction.

warnings: MINORS DNI, wife!reader and husband!marcus, mentions of TW: miscarriages, (probably incorrect) roman history, mentions of TW: blood and death, making love, sweet nicknames (carissima/me - dearest, dulcissima/me - sweetest, meum cor - my heart, melculum - my little honey), marcus has a big dick, creampies, tender softness, probably ooc marcus ??

wc: 4.4k

notes: oh booyyyyyyy. so we all collectively agree that general marcus is scrum-diddly-umptious ?? all the pics, videos, and gifs dropping does not ease my obsession. so.. i turned my obsession into a work of art for all of you to read ^.^ idk squat about the roman times, but i did do my best to research !! divider from @saradika-graphics 🤍

main masterlist

follow @sweetpascal-notifs for future fic updates.

It seems like the days have been mixing in with each other the more time has passed. Unsure of which day started and which day ended, you lost track of time. It had been one month, maybe two at this point. The sun rose and set, the moon and stars following in tandem. It was almost like a dance. It was amusing, to say the least. It reminded you of your relationship with your husband. With the light color dress wraps and delicate gold jewelry you'd wear around your neck compared to his permanent scowl, it's clear to civilization who's the sun and who's the moon. But you both complement each other in more ways than one.

You're able to calm him down with a simple touch on his arm, causing his boisterous voice to quiet down and his heart to steady its pace. Marcus' presence looming behind you around others, everyone already knows how dangerous he can become if someone even looks at his wife the wrong way.

Now, without his presence and his voice and his touch, nothing feels real. Pacing around in the dining hall of your home, you rubbed your hands tenderly over your barely-there baby bump over your soft blue wrap dress that Marcus surprised you with the last time he had come home from a previous battle for more land. He had won, of course, because General Marcus Acacius never loses. The mere thought of him losing a battle led by him with his army in tow is one of your greatest fears as his wife.

Staying inside your home and wallowing in your fears was no good for you and your unborn child. You couldn't go through the stress of worrying after your husband and deal with another heartbreaking loss alone. The night that Marcus had come back, you had broken down in front of him, shakily telling him through your thick tears that you had lost your son.

"A son?" He had quietly asked you, his eyes wide and heartbreaking.

"The teller that settles by the river," you told him with a broken voice. "She had confirmed it with her readings."

You remember it clearly as day; the look on his face equivalent to that of a broken man. You had choked on your tears, begging for his forgiveness for not being more careful, for not being a dutiful mother that was supposed to protect their child. You had knelt down in front of him, grabbing his knees and pleading to him and the gods for forgiveness and punishment, your hands pressed together in a prayer.

"Carissima," he had whispered quietly to you, slowly getting down onto his knees to remove your tight hold on his dirtied pteruges. His hands, trembling and unsteady, tenderly hold your cheeks to look into your heartbroken eyes. "I shall never strike a hand upon you, need you deserve it or not. I shall never lay blame on something the gods have brutally stolen from us. Oh, my dearest wife." His last whisper had you gripping onto his arms and crying your heart out into his shoulder. He said nothing more, nothing else. On the ground that day, all he did was hold you, and that was more than what you needed.

Breaking out of that distressing memory, you busied yourself with around-the-house distractions. In your hands was a handmade wicker basket you had purchased at one of the markets. The owner was a sweet, older woman that knew of your reputation amongst the others. She always treated you with kindness and looked at you with excitement every time you came by and not fear. She also gifted you a handmade blanket sewn with intricate patterns of the moon and sun.

"I gift this to you as a thank you for your kindness," she had said, pushing the blanket further into your hands when you had protested. She lay a wrinkly finger against her lips and drooped her eye to a wink.

Stepping outside with the wicker basket in your arms, you traveled a short distance to a small pond with many bushes, trees, and delicate flowers all around. This was your happy place. And this was also where you and Marcus had made love for the first time so long ago. The tree, the rock, the patch of grass. All of it held a distinct memory of your first time. Thinking back to it brings a smile to your lips.

"Tell me to stop, and I will. Tell me to stop right now and I shall go back to where I rest and I will not pursue you any longer," Marcus had told you breathlessly against your jaw. He had you laid on the soft grass underneath the moon, the light shining against the pond in a way that makes the gentle movements look like glitter. Your dress was hiked up around your hips as he rested heavily between your trembling thighs, your hands squeezing on his strong biceps that flexed in response to your sizzling touch.

"Marcus," you sighed prettily in his ear, and it sounded like the sweetest song he has honor of ever hearing. "My need for you has not gone away. It will not go away unless you take me right here, under the moon and stars, until I'm singing for you in pleasure."

The look in his eyes was that of desperate hunger and wanton need. When he had slid himself into your cunt for the first time, all of your prayers to the gods have been finally answered. Marcus was made to be yours. And you were made to be his. Hushed moans and frantic thrusts, Marcus fucked like how others perceived himself – like a barbarian. Some women would disagree and find it appalling and dirty, but it was perfection. He wasn't scared to touch you. He touched you as though if he were to let go you would float away, for he would no longer be able to taste you on his tongue or feel your tight warmth wrapped around his thick cock.

A touch to your shoulder had you gasping and dropping the basket onto the ground. You spun around and laid a hand on your chest and one on your bump, staring at the poor maid that scared you accidentally.

"I deeply apologize for frightening you, miss," she stares at you with her hands up in defense as though she was staring at a frightening animal backed into a corner. "General Marcus has arrived and he asks for your presence in your bedroom."

"No, no, it's quite alright, dear. My head was in the clouds again," you offer her a gentle smile and a brief laugh, laying a hand lightly on her shoulder to ease her worries. "And Marcus, is he...?"

The young maid recognized your worry and shook her head as an answer to your unspoken question. You hand her the wicker basket of plucked fruits from the bushes and politely tell her to wash and ready them, and to bring them to your bedroom when the task is done. She nodded and hurried off immediately.

You carefully, but also hurriedly, made your way into your home. Nodding and giving polite smiles to the people inside, you walk up the spiral marble stairs. When you reached the top, there stood a statue of yourself sitting atop a stone with a statue of hour husband on his knees and his lips pressed to your knees. There were intricate details in the statue, like of Marcus' fingers gripping your thighs or the soft rolls of your body. Your husband preferred a large home such as this for his growing family. You preferred something quainter and more personal, but what your husband says, goes. You recognized his large, dirty footprints leading to your bedroom, another young maid already on her knees scrubbing the stains.

"Aureia, there's no need for that," you tut softly at the young girl, and she looks up at you with wide eyes. "Leave that alone for now, alright? As for this moment, will you please gather the others and bring pails of hot water for a bath?"

"Right away," she nodded and hurried off. It brings a smile to your face at how eager the young maids are to please. Unlike the other men and women that have maids in their homes, you treated yours like people. They respect you and in return, you respect them. Marcus used to disagree until he remembered how you grew up when it was just you and your widowed mother, along with the reputation of being poor. Realizing that you see yourself in these young maids, your husband made it a point to allow you to be in charge of them and do whatever you see fit. Having that much power can be overwhelming, only because of the fear of having your kind heart be taken advantage of. But those that work for and with you know to never cross you, for they'll have to deal with the consequences your husband has waiting for them.

When you entered your private bedroom, there he sat, still dressed from head to toe in his armor. He sits with his back facing the door, his sights focused on the large window that overlooks the garden which circles around the empty thermae. You slowly move around the bed and finally stand before him, essentially blocking his view of the window. Marcus doesn't look up at you just yet. So, you stay silent and let him do what he needs to, let him think what he needs to think.

His hands, still caked with dirt, grime, and dried blood, move up to your stomach. Your bump is within his line of sight. Both of his hands rest on either side, feeling the firmness and shape of the bump. You watch as his eyes shut and his jaw clenches. His face was also caked with dirt, grime, and dried blood. The ends of his hair are curled with sweat from the heat of his long journey back home to his family. Marcus says nothing when you stroke his jaw silently. Neither of you register the door opening and four maids coming in one by one to empty two pails each of hot water into the tub that sits in the corner of the room. They know better than to interrupt.

When the door shuts, Marcus moves to rest his head against your bump. His ear is pressed into your soft flesh through the dress adorning your body. He can faintly hear the thumping of your heart and that brings him back down to earth, back home to you. Your hands, warm and gentle, card through his messy, graying curls. Damp with dirt and sweat, you don't care. Feeling him right here, right now, was all that mattered.

"It's over," he finally speaks, his voice rough and low. His hands move down to find a home on your wide hips, fingers just barely digging into the shape. "The war is over. I made sure of it." And he leaves it at that.

Your eyes shut and you let out a sigh of mixed relief and heartache. You couldn't imagine what your husband had to go through, as a leader, to make sure that he and his army of men make it out alive. You couldn't imagine the number of bodies that are lying out there, hundreds of miles away, torn apart and bled out, mangled flesh and bone. You couldn't imagine your husband possibly being one of them. Bending down as best as you could, you tenderly wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and kissed the back of his head. You briefly sniffed his hair and pulled back.

"Let's get you inside the bath, hm?" You whispered softly, hands lovingly scratching at his scruffy jaw as you pulled his head up to look into your eyes.

When he stands, you almost forgot how imposing he was. His height was a strong factor. The bloodied armor he wears makes him look much broader and more dangerous. The exhausted look on his face makes him look much more mean – evil, even. But he's neither of those things, at least not to you. He stands as still as a tree as you begin to unclip and pull off his armor one by one. From the thick leather chest plate bound with protective metal underneath, all the way down to the thick leather arm-wear covering his forearms. Unsheathing his sword from its belt, you unclip that from around his waist as well. Having done this a million times, it's muscle memory.

He stands before you, naked, dirty, and exhausted. You reach behind your neck and slowly untie your dress wrap. It pools at your feet, your naked body now on display for him to see after months apart. Marcus' eyes take in every detail. The delicacy of your collarbones, your perky breasts, the curve of your growing belly, the soft curls of your pubic hair, those thighs that Marcus loves being in between, all the way down to the dangling anklet he gifted you.

"Come on," you whisper softly and take his hand to lead him to the filled tub. Steam sits above the water and Marcus' aching muscles scream out to it.

He enters first, hissing at first from the heat but then moaning gruffly once he sinks further into the hot water. Almost immediately, his sore muscles begin to relax. He could fall asleep right this instant. He feels a gentle push on his shoulder. He scoots forward and allows you to enter behind him.

"What are you doing, dear wife?" He doesn't hear an answer to his question. He's about to turn his body, but then he feels your hands massaging his tender scalp and washing his dirty hair. His eyes shut almost instantly, and he groans huskily with parted lips.

You wanted to laugh at his reaction but decided against it. Marcus never had time to relax and wind down. He was always on his feet, always discussing the next steps of battle, always readying his army men with hardcore training. It pained you to see him like this, especially at a distance. He never wanted you around to witness his leadership. Not wanting to induce stress onto you early on in your pregnancy, not wanting a repeat of your last pregnancy, he had given you strict instructions to let him handle everything.

"Meum cor, you do so good with taking care of your husband," Marcus quietly tells him, his entire body shuddering when your nails tenderly scrape the sensitive parts of his scalp. "I know the other men are envious of the treatment I receive from such a divine woman."

"Mm, I know, my love," softly laughing at his goading. You reached over the side of the tub to grab a small wooden bowl. Using that to pour water onto his soapy curls, you gently tipped his head back and did just that. You kissed the side of his head and gently cleaned away the dirt and grime on his beautifully tan skin. You paid extra attention by lovingly kissing the scar on his right cheek.

For the next hour, you put all your focus into washing his body. No longer was he a filthy barbarian. No, he was now your clean, fresh smelling husband. His damp hair curled elegantly behind his ears and neck. You had maneuvered onto his lap to focus on his front. There were more prominent bruises on his chest and arms, as well as some cuts that have begun its healing process. You gave him a small pout, to which he tuts and lovingly cups your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"I could ride into the sun and still come back to you in one piece, meum cor," he tells you quietly, moving his face much closer and shifting you to sit comfortably on his lap. "No man, no sword, no army could ever strike me down and take me from you."

Holding onto his scruffy jaw and peering into those dark chocolate eyes of his, he looks at you with such tenderness that no stranger will ever witness. Your bump is resting against his own stomach, and he feels every breath you exhale. Heads lean closer, his aquiline nose resting on the side of yours, lips just a hair away. There's distant chatter outside in the gardens, the curtains swaying gently from the warm breeze coming through the open windows. The water in the tub is still warm and steaming, the clearness of it was now murky from the dirt you cleaned from his aching body. You have half a mind to drain the tub and call out for more pails of fresh hot water, but you're so comfortable and safe in the arms of your husband.

"Do you recall the night I took you underneath the stars?" Marcus asks you huskily, both hands gripping your hips, strong fingers digging into your plushy flesh. He forces your hips closer to his, thick thighs tensing underneath your own. "The way you begged me to keep going, even when it began to rain down upon us."

Your lips parted to elicit a soft gasp when you felt his hardness on your thigh, thickening and rising with each second that passed. You do remember that night like it was yesterday. The soft rain pattering on your naked, writhing bodies. Your nails had dug deep into his skin to keep him from moving away. You had cried out to the gods for more, more, more.

"I do believe I may have scars from those nails of yours," Marcus joked lightly against your jaw, pressing a kiss to the bone with his plush lips.

Giggling quietly in his ear, you held his head close to your chest as his kisses traveled south. "I do believe you're creating tales, carissime."

He hums disapprovingly, holding you tighter on his lap when you shift. The steam from the water made his skin feel sticky and warm. You tasted salt on your tongue when you kissed below his ear. It was intoxicating, to say the least. Tasting him, trailing your tongue all over his molten hot skin, licking over his scars and freckles. There was a quiet minute when you both looked into each other's eyes again. Marcus can see the light hasn't died. He can see the adoration you have for him in the way your pupils dilate, and breathing quicken. And you can feel the love Marcus has for you in the way his eyes get slightly wide as he takes in your features, most likely mapping out which ones he hopes your unborn child takes from the both of you.

"Take us to bed, meum cor," you beg him. No longer able to keep looking at your handsome husband and not do anything about it, you leave it all up to him.

Without another word, Marcus stands with a hoarse grunt. With one strong arm wrapped tight (but not too tight) around your waist and his other hand under your thigh to keep you up and against his body, he steps over the tub and makes his way over to the bed. Neither of you care if your wet bodies are soaking the sheets. As he lays you down and rests on top of you, nothing else matters at this moment.

"Melculum, you look like a goddess with the sunlight kissing your naked skin," he whispers to you, lowering his head to kiss at your breasts and collarbones. You gasped and arched your back, further pressing your breasts into his mouth, to which he sucks a sensitive nipple between those lips.

Marcus rests on his forearms on either side of your head with his big hands tenderly cupping the crown. Your feet teasingly trail up and down the backs of his thighs, and you feel his hardness twitch between your bodies. Whispering his name in a needy voice, he looks up at you and catches the look in your half-lidded eyes. The flush on your skin makes your skin glow. He would never disrespect his gods and goddesses, but Aphrodite does have a competition on her hands.

Feeling too eager, you take charge and yank his neck down to finally kiss him. After months of not feeling his body, hands, and lips on yours, you powered all your emotions in this kiss. It was messy and desperate and hard. Tongue, teeth, garbled whimpers and heavy breaths. Marcus suckled at your bottom lip, letting it snap back against your teeth to then suck and bite at your neck. Your hips were shifting to slot his hard cock between the silky lips of your wet cunt. Grinding up and down, the thick vein that rests on his hardness glides easily against your swelling clit.

"Marcus," you weep quietly in his ear. "Oh, my husband. I need you more than life itself. Oh, you're the bravest, strongest soldier known to man. You're so... powerful, so dangerous. You keep your family and your people safe, my love." Saying this all while you're grinding your sweet cunt up and down the length of his hardness has Marcus growing erratic by the second.

He looks down between your bodies. Your cunt lips open like the blooming petals of the sweetest flower. The soft dark curls of your pubic hair rubbing against his own. Your small belly bump that keeps your unborn child safe and sound. Marcus uses his thumb to guide himself inside your cunt, breathing shallowly when the warm tightness sucks him in, inch by inch. Your mouth falls open to let out quiet, needy moans.

"There we go, melculum," Marcus grunts lowly in your ear, lowering his hips further down into yours and his thick cock slides deeper inside your leaking hole. The heat, wetness, and tightness of your cunt has him spiraling already. The knot in the pit of his stomach further unraveling the deeper he gets. "You were made for me," he breathes deeply, the heat of his breath fanning over your sensitive neck.

When he starts fucking into you, he was mindful to not rest his entire weight on your belly. He repositioned himself in a way that had his back curving to drive his hips deeper, faster, and harder into your own. The action had you arching and gasping. Your soft breasts and feet bounced gently from the movements. Marcus lovingly strokes down your temples with his thumbs and kisses you hard once again. Your fingers curl into his hair, now drying and curling beautifully. He looks like a god. It makes you want to cry. But then, his cock starts punching against the one spot that makes you scream.

"Oh! Marcus!" You yelped, eyebrows furrowed and lifted up as your mouth fell open and moans started pouring out. "Right there! Right... there. Ri-ight the-ere!"

He slows his thrusts until he's grinding so deep and so slow. Your moans turned into whimpers. He was able to hear the sloppy noises of your cunt soaking around his hardness. He grins down at you, his dimple deepening when you twitch and writhe.

"So beautiful," he whispers against your jaw. "So ethereal underneath me, writhing and begging for my cock." Marcus sharply drives his cock into your cunt unexpectedly. You let out a long, wanton wail that has his grin widening. He does it again, and again, and again. It was driving you absolutely crazy.

Your slick is most likely dripping out of your hole and onto Marcus' balls which slap against you. You can practically feel the weight of them, so heavy and full of two months' worth of cum. He drags his cock in and out of you slowly now, allowing you to feel every vein and every inch. Your thighs spread wide for him, eager for more. He answered your silent pleas and fucked you at a quicker pace again.

"Wrap your arms around me, Marcus. Oh, please, please, please!" You sobbed quietly, tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. He follows immediately. His strong arms wrap under your back and he rests some of his weight onto your front. Your thighs widen to accommodate his size, allowing his cock to nudge deeper in a way that steals your breath. "Just... like... that," you whimpered after each thrust Marcus gives.

He feels dizzy and overwhelmed in a good way. The smell of the homemade soap on your skin, the softness and warmth of your naked skin against his, your sweet moans like a pretty song in his ears, the slick tightness of your cunt sucking him in repeatedly. Feeling, smelling, and hearing all of these at once was enough to finally let him spill out his moans without holding back. His chest vibrates against your bare breasts with each grunt that passes his kissed-raw lips. The vibrations on your sensitive nipples tickled you erotically.

"You are intoxicating," he moans heavily against your sticky skin, his scruff scraping deliciously and his lips and teeth leaving little love bites. "Non possum satis de te." I cannot get enough of you.

With your eyes rolling back and your thighs trembling around his wide hips, you simply cannot control what your body does. Marcus catches you off guard by messily kissing you, his tongue intertwining with your own, tasting each other's saliva. The taste of him had you whining into his mouth. There was a faintness of wine on his tongue. Although you obviously couldn't drink while you bear his child, the lingering taste of it on your husband's tongue was enough to drive you wild. Your hands, originally placed on his shoulder blades, trail down to his tapered waist and finally cling onto his perky bottom. You squeeze the tender flesh and briefly dig your nails into the skin, feeling the muscles clench and unclench with every roll of his hips and cock driving into your cunt.

"Tu parum desperatus es, huh?" Marcus' voice sounded cocky and the grin on his face didn't help. You're a desperate little thing, huh?

One of the things that made your husband a respected leader was his arrogance was never wrongfully directed. He loved to gloat, about anything and everything. But when it came to you, his wife, his ego inflates to the point of popping.

That's when you felt it. The coil in the pit of your stomach gets tighter and tighter, forcing your gooey walls to twitch around Marcus' thickness. He moans lowly at the feeling of it. He hooks one of your thighs over his arm, bracing your knee into your chest to fuck you deeply. The position change had you shuddering, more slick leaking out and staining the sheets below your bodies.

"I'm... I'm... fuuuck!" With one final cry out to the gods, you scratched down Marcus' skin and braced yourself for impact.

Your orgasm washed over you like one of the strongest ocean waves known to man. Your body wouldn't stop twitching and writhing underneath his massive body. The squeezing tightness of your cunt wouldn't let your husband fuck you any longer. He drops down and lets out a final rough grunt before spilling inside of you. He has a entire body shiver as his cock twitches repeatedly, his thick cum spilling out every few seconds. It finally stopped after a whole minute; yes, you were counting. The tickle of his cum hitting you deep inside had you giggling drowsily.

"You should be thanking your husband for giving you a well-needed release, not laughing at him," he hums against your skin, the vibrations of his voice and bristles of his scruff tickling you further, causing you to laugh louder. He feels your belly jumping from your shaking body and he can't help but to smile.

Being in the arms of his wife after a long journey of war and death, there really is no place like home.

[m1d-45]

for all to see

summary: fontaine’s court of law is questionable on a good day. on a bad day? well…

word count: ~1.2k

-> warnings: you die, blood mention, spoilers for fontaine archon quest (only names of things), potentially ooc neuvillette(?)

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr

< masterlist >

despite being the nation of justice, fontaine was not known for its fairness.

trials took place in opera houses, the prosecution focused not on proving their claim, but to put on a show. the citizens didn’t care for the outcome if it wasn’t amusing, the archon known for throwing fits if things were too boring. to survive was to be entertaining, painting as many coats of shimmering blue over your soul until it was shiny enough to go outside.

obtuse laws hid around every corner. no floating objects for the first three days of each month. no fonta was to be brought into any government buildings, unless the date was a prime number, in which case it could be any flavor but strawberry. mechanical pens had long since been invented, but had to be classed as a meka, which required a permit that far outweighed the price of the pen itself.

nothing made sense. even neuvilette, as well versed in the law as he was, did not understand the reasoning behind most of these rules.

however, there was one that he backed entirely, the very first law ever established in fontaine—arguably in teyvat as a whole, the very notion of such a crime pulling disgust regardless of origin.

‘Any person or persons found to be impersonating the divine creator, with the exceptions of roles within an opera or other such performance, shall be punished with the full extent of the law, up to and including the death penalty.’

“defendant, do you have any evidence to refute ms furina’s claims?”

you said nothing, staring down at your hands. you’d stopped pulling at the cuffs that bound you to the railing, leaving you still as stone. your entire appearance was disheveled, a result of the nearly year’s long hunt for you. part of him felt pity, but he quickly dismissed it. you deserved this—provided you didn’t, somehow, have evidence to the contrary…

you looked up, overgrown hair falling into tired eyes. you were dirty, dark crusts of blood lining hairline scratches all over your face and arms. you didn’t say a word, but he found himself avoiding your sharp gaze quickly, inspecting your wrists instead. raw, angry, the metal cuffs unkind.

“if you wish to think, say so. if your silence continues, i will be forced to move on.”

you looked back down to the banister wordlessly, the crowd murmuring at your silence. he ignored them.

“we now turn to the oratrice mecanique d'analyse cardinale to render the final verdict on the charges.”

the oratrice clicked and clunked, gears spinning and meshing as the machine drew its conclusion. blue faith filled the tubes within the walls, collecting, then were pulled back in relative quiet. now would be when the scales would return to normal, but he hadn’t heard them tilt at all during the trial… he pushed aside that train of thought once again. he was getting distracted too easily considering the importance of this trial.

he picked up the verdict from the oratrice, addressing the crowd. “according to the judgement of the oratrice mechanique d’analyse cardinale, the defendant is…” his breath skips as he opened the small folder, something in his chest twisting violently. “…innocent?”

how?

furina sat up in a hurry, the audience clamoring for reasoning, but he barely hears anything. if the oratrice itself declared you innocent, then…

behind furina, his god also stands, cold eyes staring into the crowd. “calm down, everyone. it’s clear this fraud has simply tampered with the oratrice.” your head snapped up as neuvillette closed the pages from the oratrice, sending it back down the chute.

“my god, i can personally assure you that the defendant has not had the opportunity to-“

“silence.”

he bowed his head when they turned to him, mouth dry. something was off about the situation, but what?

“since we clearly have all the evidence in front of us, i think we can safely override the oratrice’s rule.”

“divine one, in fontaine law it clearly states that the oratrice-“

“and i’ve stated that it can be overruled. which is more important, fontaine’s laws or divine laws?” he couldn’t speak. “clorinde, my bow.”

he watched as clorinde produced a bow, as quiet as the crowd below. nobody could say a word—the death penalty hadn’t been imposed in fontaine for years… but this was a special case..

black steel arrows reflected light into his eyes as the creator pointed them at you, his heart thundering. the air was always polluted in fontaine, but it felt twice as oppressive now.

“chief justice. i can’t get a clean shot.”

neuvillette bowed once more, feeling cold. he weaved through the private hallways of the opera house, making his way to the defendant’s balcony.

he didn’t even know your name. you’d refused to give it- refused to say anything, really. how his god had arrived at this verdict was beyond him… but he could not overrule the divine. he opened the door to the balcony, uncertainly stepping to your side.

this was wrong. he could hear it begin to rain, water pattering against the windows, but all he could tangibly feel was confusion. he knew something was wrong, but what?

he lifted his hand but you beat him to it, lifting your head as you turned to face him. “step back,” you mumbled, and he found himself obeying in the split second before the arrow struck. bright blue blood flew into the air, landing right where he would have been.

you didn’t want him to get blood on his clothing.

the rain picked up, lightning striking close and shaking the floor beneath him. the whole house gasped, all eyes turned to you as you collapsed. he couldn’t look away, not when he heard the sound of a sword—clorinde’s, likely, furina was never one for a fight—or the shouts of the gardes. he was paralyzed, watching blue spread out beneath you, reaching the edge of the balcony and beginning to drip.

he’d known. he’d felt it. and yet he was powerless to stop your death, the one he- the one they all perceived as divine pinning down teyvat. he should have known from the moment they overruled the oratrice, should have seen the blue tint to your scratches, should have asked for more evidence before- before—

rain came down in hails, his hands shaking as he stared at the injustice before him.

[fuxuannie]

Wanted to request maybe hsr men with a partner that's their exact opposite?

* pairing(s) : various hsr men (i actually do all of them i promise) x reader

* prompt : opposites attract, amiright?

* authors note : so you may have noticed a bit of a.. redesign.. in my layout 🙏 but hi requester!! here u gooo ♡ cleaning up my requests sweep sweep. also thank you for 200 u guys r crazy omg.

* brief warning : blade is blade, sssadism if u SQUINT RLLY HARD.

(my love for gepard rlly shows in this im sorry. HABSGJABA 😭😭!!! some r rlly long.. ooc.. or short.. sbsndhsks HANDGSHWS i love gepard IM SORRY HES PRETTY BOY)

DAN HENG appreciated his silence and alone time, you however, could not go 5 minutes without his supervision.

While he liked to plan and execute said plan perfectly, you were reckless and went into anything head-first with worrying about the possible failures later.

And because of this, Dan Heng was protective over you. He was a gentleman after all, and he would do the same for March 7th back then, so it's no surprise he'd do it for you now. Especially with your tendencies to get yourself into unnecessary fights.

It aches his heart, you know? Having to see your wounds and bruises as he patches you up. But you've made a compromise to give him the equivelant amount of kisses equal to the bandages he put all over you. (and there were A LOT)

Even if you make him worry 24/7, he'll still love you. It's not bad to have a chance of pace after all.

JING YUAN is a man with many routines, calm and collected, with many worries on his shoulder.

You were more outgoing, a trailblazer who rode the express and were the one helping people with their worries.

He was always surprised with how helpful you really were in your first meetings, not that he doubted your abilities, but didn't expect someone to be able to do his asks as well as you did.

What didn't surprise him was how he fell for you, the way your heart was always pure and gold, and you lived a life to protect and help others.. he admired you. You were his inspiration, his muse, to be a General with that kind of care for his people.

When you two decided to date, Jing Yuan had to get used to your impulsive actions. He was always used to doing the same thing everyday, but with you? He found himself doing 50 other things before the next part of his schedule.

Not that he minded, he likes the excitement, and he really really likes you.

GEPARD, the Silvermane guards leader, falling for his sisters co-performer.

He LOVED to watch you perform or practice, Serval always saw him with such a love-struck smile, head resting on his hand as he sat and watched his sisters and you practice. She'd tease him about it afterwards, calling him loverboy and such, but he never confirmed nor denied her teasing about him liking you.

Sometimes the guards would hear him humming your part of a song or the general tune of a melody you play, considering how much he watched you, it was no surprise that you were stuck in his head like a popular song.

He quite literally, loved you like a love song, because it's ALL he ever listened to. He'd be in bed, white shirts and shorts, his arm covering his eyes as he listens to the CORNIEST love song and smiles while doing so because he thinks of you.

When you two started dating, he was quick to realize your differences. He was a leader, an intimidating figure, and had goals and missions he swore on his life to constantly follow and pursue even outside of work hours.

You on the other hand, unless you're onstage, you're pretty shy. Not really standing out in a crowd when you're in your civilian clothing, and you liked it that way. Almost like you lived a different life from your almost idol-like persona.

Gepard did find it incredibly cute though, how you'd have an explosive personality infront of a crowd. But with him? You were at the mercy of his soft kisses and his chuckles as your face turns warm from fluster.

SAMPO was the COMMON ENEMY between the Overworld and Underworld.

Okay, maybe a bit of an exaggeration. But YOU?? Natasha's sweetest nurse and sibling?? with the likes of HIM??

He was a liar, seemingly the type to decieve people who put their trust in him, only to repay them randomly out of nowhere with random treasure maps or save them from tight situations. It seemed like any suspicious activity was ALWAYS tied to him.

You, on the other hand, worked with your sister in her clinic. Often times praised for your kindness and patience, how amazing you were with children and people in general. Nobody would've expected that you fell for him, hell, he didn't expect it either.

But you saw that somewhere, in that heart of his, he truly did care about his friends and loved ones. Somewhere buried in his rather annoying antics, were the intentions of someone who was just worried for the others well-being. He proved it to you when he caught you crying in a dark alley, wiping your tears as you were so tired and overworked. He listened to you for hours on end, and he got to see a side of you that you didn't show to people, and vice versa. You saw the side of him people thought they'd die to see exist.

WELT YANG was always rather serious at times, with his status and achievements, people expected it of him.

You were his closest companion, one of the few he had left from his journey, but you were also his partner. Despite being just about his age, you were so calm, so gentle. Compared to his seemingly stern nature.

You loved plants and flowers of the such, always telling Welt about the newest one you learnt from a new planet on each expedition through the galaxy. You warmed his heart with how you spoke, explaining each and every plant with such detail. He loved it whenever you spoke, 'music to his ears', he'd tell people. Anyone would be enamoured with your voice and way of speaking, he admired your intelligence, but more importantly, he admired you.

BLADE.. with Kafka's partner in crime?

Kafka can't say she's surprised, hell, she'd love you too. But the pairing was rather odd.

Blade was monotone, cold. His stare as sharp as daggers, and could care less about those he hurt.

You, on the other hand, found immense joy in hurting others. A wicked smile on your face whenever you're permitted to do so towards anyone who dare stand in their way.

Whenever you two would kiss, the difference once again shows. You're clearly enjoying it, but Blade's expression is blank. But I guess don't judge a book by its cover? As the kiss he initiated is passionate and intimate, he's enjoying it I promise, he just doesn't show it.

Either way, you're both stuck babysitting Silverwolf most of the time. Oh well, more time with him.

[xazse]

JJK MEN X PUPPYGIRL!READER

Notes: Hi, This is for my lovely jjk enjoyers, and its pretty long

Pairings: Puppygirl!FemReader x Geto, Gojo, Nanami, Toji (Seperate)

Tags: They might be ooc, SMUTT, Fluff, Hybrid!Reader, Blowjob, Pussyeating, MeanMen!,Manhandling, and more!, NOTPROOFREAD,

Gojo

absolutely loves you so much, when it came to finding his perfect match he stumbled upon you. You were like his carbon copy in personality, all excited and jumpy: though at times it can be a little too much if he just got off work after a long day of the higher ups nagging him, but nonetheless he reveled in your attention.

He also loves how you jumped at the opportunity to give him the wettest kisses ever! Peppering kisses all over his face while telling him how you waited soo long for him. Though from him checking the cameras all you did was sleep the entire time and occasionally grab something to eat, then go right back to napping all cute.

Oh god Gojo absolutely adores teasing and leading you on. It riles him up to see you pout when he tells you a little lie, you just trust his word a little too much! But when he sees you on the verge of tears he’ll coo and bring you into a warm hug: while still adding fuel to the fire in a condensing tone: you don’t realize because ur a little.. well dumb!

NSFW:

On some days Gojo thinks you’re the one teasing him, you’re positioned in his lap, legs wrapped around his torso. Giving him such sweet kisses oh he loves it so much. One kiss on the corner of his lips and one directly on the lips: you obviously aren’t even aware just how much you’re riling him up. 

When you’ve decided you’ve had enough of kissing, you take to licking him softly, a gesture meant to calm and relax him: it does the total opposite he revels in it, feeling his cock stir in his pants. He was damn near excited when he picked up on you wearing the thinnest, tightest shorts, squeezing the outline of your cunt so lewdly, his money very well spent. Your pink tongue glides out to slide against the bottom of his lips to the top, he gladly and all too eagerly opens and latches onto your lips, already searching for your tongue and he starts sucking on it loudly, Gojo loves how within a few seconds you’re already mewling into his mouth, trying your hardest to not nip at him with your sharp teeth. 

Everytime you pull away with strings of saliva breaking, he pulls you right back in, you should know better by now not to give away when he’s trying to make you feel good.  

He takes it upon himself to shimmy you out of your shorts, no panties of course just the way he likes it. 

He lines himself up with your awaiting hole, gojo tries to be super gentle since he’s aware you hate the stretch of his thick length, it just overwhelms you too much. You’re whimpering in his neck as he brings you around him. Pitiful pleas fill the room, right until he has you flush against his torso, his cock twitching slightly in you, the warmth you provide has him near bucking his hips into you but he remains calm. 

Big strong hands grip your ass and before you know it, he’s lifting you up his cock slowly, only the tip inside before he slams you down using about only a fraction of his strength. You moan In pleasure and just a little pain. 

After awhile of gojo repeating this process, not even yet breaking his pace, You’re a mess, feeling his fat cock drag against your sensitive walls over and over. 

Nanami-

Nanami was a little different when it comes to selecting his favorite girl, he wanted someone calm and collected. At first he got what he wanted, you obeyed, listened so well, he loved you on your best behavior: staring up at him with star-stuck eyes when he gave you a direction. 

Until you started to get really comfortable with him, that shyness which was your shell had begun to open up and Nanami was in for a real hellstorm. You had began to get really really clingy, whining and pouting when he would have to leave, clinging to him at the door, practically in tears trying to persuade him to stay. He of course couldn’t stay and sadly had to leave you to your own: reassuring you that he could see you in the cameras and talk to you, with this Information you begrudgingly let him go. 

When he had checked the cameras sometime after you were on the couch laying down with his shirt being used as a pillow, your ears downturned in signal that you were not happy one-bit. When he spoke, rather low your ears perked and you jumped and quickly scanned the room, he slowly coaxed you towards the camera and he witnessed the cutest dopey grin on your face, you sat(pulled up a chair to sit near the camera) there and listened to Nanami talk just about anything. 

NSFW: 

Nanami’s favorite thing to do is focus solely on you, he just loves you so much, you’ve managed to implement yourself Into his daily routine. He won’t be complete if you aren’t cuddling with him at exactly 9:30, though his stoic nature will never let him say that outloud so he relays it by small lingering kisses. 

Nanami knows how easy it is for you to get horny, your ears and tails betray you when they tuck themselves under and you tuck your tail in-between your legs:  trying to hinder the painful throbs within your cunt, he knows it all too well, knows his goodgirl: you, wants him so badly but doesn’t wanna disturb his sleep incase he has to get early. 

Nanami always has to take the lead to touch you, so he makes his move, sliding himself inbetween your legs, and you happily obliged by moving your tail out of the way. 

Peeling off your panties is an easy task, Nanami wets his fingers before deftly swirling them around your clit, already attacking the source of your pleasure. You groan and move to grip his hair hard, he doesn’t mind at all. 

His skilled tongue collects your cum before spreading it everywhere, getting you nice and wet. His mouth moves further up towards your clit, giving teasing little licks, his large hands grab the back of your thighs and push them, giving him a more lewd view of you spread open just for him. Cute whines leave your throat as he takes the time to admire the sight  before him: cunt drooling just from a little foreplay. 

Within the next few seconds he’s sucking on your clit, absolutely loving the taste of you, you mewl his name shamelessly. bucking your hips onto his face for more. 

With all this nanami can finally slip two thick fingers into you, and that he does, he doesn’t wait till you adjust, simply fucking you with the digits while your head is thrown back moaning even louder, small pleas fill the air for nanami to let you cum. His fingers push the deepest they can go and you feel little pulses within you, awaiting before they finally get stronger and you cum right on his face with a loud moan, he’s already working on lapping up all the juices decorating your cunt.

Toji

Oh brother, Toji loves his pup SOO stupid, he wants her to rely on him completely, that’s where you come in, a dumb pliant thing, willing to let him do just about anything to you, and still have a blinding smile on your face. He loves the evenings where he can simply relax with you on top of him: belly flat, but he’ll never admit that outloud and especially not to you. It’s the time where he can softly stroke your hair and rub just behind your ears while you rest your eyes in complete content. 

Toji notices your drooling habit a bit late, he’ll catch you staring at a certain item with some type of newfound interest, with your mouth slightly open, but there’s a simple fix where he taps your cheek twice before all that attention is once again back on him: he revels In it. 

Speaking of you being too stupid, Toji does everything around the house, he can’t even trust you to wash a dish before that empty head of urs takes you somewhere else. So when he’s doing housework he’ll sit you in front of the Tv and throw on some cheesy romcon that’ll keep you busy: though it won’t even last two hours before your wandering around trying to find him. 

At times you can be kind of a thorn in his side when you want to be, maybe even giving him a little attitude when he asks something of you, it surprises him every time you shoot back a snarky remark because it’s just THAT rare. He’ll ask you to repeat yourself with a serious look on his face before you back down and just does as he says. 

NSFW: 

When you do decide to keep that stinking attitude of yours up, ur in a world of painful pleasure because toji is mean as hell. 

When he fucks you he likes to make it HURTTT, so when he’s balls deep in your poor abused pussy, slamming his hips against your ass repeatedly you can only mewl out apologies on how you’ll improve, Toji knows you’re lying of course you are, he can’t see your face but he can feel, feel the little quirk of your lip, but it doesn’t further frustrate him, no it drives him to push you even further, more than you can possibly handle. 

He switches positions to pressing you into a tight mating press, youre a whole mess, dried tears, hell even new tears take their place on your face. He begins his pacing starting off slow, but eventually speeds up to what he was giving you before. It feels so good you can’t help but slur into the air on repeat. Tojis hand moves down to your tail where he yanks on it as he moves, your reaction is quick, yelping to move your tail but his grip remains tight.

After a quick while of him using you like a toy solely meant for his pleasure, your habit starts to show itself, Toji groans at the sight, this just puts the icing on the cake for him at least.

He leans in and pressing his thick tongue into your mouth, you can’t deny him when you feel like you’re already on the edge of losing yourself, so he indulges, giving you sloppy kisses whenever he can while you tighten around his cock over and over. 

Toji lifts his hips up and slams back down into your already spent cunt, that’s when you start to attempt to away from your impending orgasm, he doesn’t let you move even an inch, letting you silently know that it’s gonna happen: and it sure does, he feels you spasm and twitch around him, pulling him in deeper while you cry out in pain, it hurts but the pleasure outweighs it by a ton, with ragged breathes you finally cum, your pussy contracting and convulsing while he still pounds away at you.  

Geto- 

Geto merely tolerates you, there’s no inbetween, he’ll let you do as you please as long as it doesn’t involve his work. But when said work is done all your attention is on him, it does feel nice to have a little stupid thing to do his bidding. You’re already on him as soon as he gives you permission, sliding yourself between his big arms and nuzzling into the crevice of his neck, it amazes him how you haven’t picked up on just what he does at work, do you know he's killed people? Of course you don’t and he’ll continue to keep you in the dark about that aspect.

When you latch onto his neck and begin to suck softly he doesn’t push you away like the first time, he had noticed a while back his pup has a habit of doing this every so often, quietly whining against him. You had mumbled to him it had something to do with your teeth, and needing something to keep you busy from the slight throb in them. He enjoys this much more than anything in the quiet space of the living room. 

You love when he begins patting your tail and ears at the same time, bonus when he slips a large thigh inbetween yours and slightly bounces you, encouraging you to not stop the soft suckling. 

Geto also loves cooking with you, by cooking with you he means you latched onto his torso your tail swishing back and forth so happily,  following behind every step, you absolutely do not let go, until everything is finished do you finally allow him to breathe, but as soon as your plate is cleaned you’re back on him. Deft fingers combing through his beautiful black locks. 

-Some days Getou has to leave for days at a time he’ll prepare some food while you’re sleeping worryfree. 

NSFW: 

Geto loves you in between his legs, loves when you see him spread open on the couch, practically inviting you with his happy trail on display. You show no hesitation when you crawl towards him. Your hands gripping on his fat cock, he hisses behind his teeth but continues to let you do your thing. 

Freeing his cock from their confines you take to slowly stroking him but also watching his expression with a new found-interest. After a while of gathering him up you wrap your pretty lips around his tip and suckle lightly. Geto has told you how he hates when you don’t just get to the point but right now he can’t seem to give a shit, right now want he wants is to fuck your throat till its raw. When he makes an attempt to help you, you call his name in that whiny tone, telling him to let you handle it. 

He doesn’t argue, but he does sit back to get more comfortable. You take him in your mouth; slowly taking him deeper and deeper inch by inch, sucking from the tip to his middle and suctioning your mouth, he groans, relaxing his head on the back of the couch. His thick hands go to knead your ears; to spur you to take more of him, you oblige and do what he wants, you can’t take all of Suguru, so both of your hands fill where your mouth can’t.

You completely pull off to suck on his neglected balls, he moans not really expecting you to do that, the heavy things fill your mouth, you continue to jerk him off while you remain down below. He feels his lower abdomen tighten and tighten and his panting speeding up,  before he’s spilling his thick load.

[httpsserene]

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝟑: 𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: your boyfriend has to make an appearance at some sponsor event. he's gone ahead and bought you an alluring outfit, but he failed to mention how seductive he looks in the new fitted suit his team got him. you two won't be staying long, but you increase the pace by riling him up, mostly unintentionally. so it's your fault that he makes you ruin his loaned mclaren. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. squirting. car sex. semi-public sex. ooc (out-of-character) oscar. overstimulation. mild possessive behavior. mild jealousy. vaginal fingering. vaginal sex. condom usage. the audacity of men. lando norris’ savior complex /jk. author’s overuse of italics and run-on sentences. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5k words 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: oscar piastri x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻��𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: water • tyla

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: what can i say, y'all. back at it with the unhinged thirst. every time i do one of these, they've been getting shorter and shorter. don't be afraid, for #4 (dr/mv) i'll be back on my game, they deserve it. yes gremlin lando appearance. also, i cannot imagine oscar ever acting this way, that's why i put the ooc tag? it's definitely a fun read tho (i think), along with the smut! thank you, loves, for the support on this event!

want to be added to my general taglist? or my f1 kinktober taglist? send me an ask!

thank you to my betas! @biancathecool for helping with my grammer and @barnestatic for her wonderful spoiled brat idea :))))

cross-posted on my ao3, httpsss

if you want to look at what i'm planning for ktober, or catch up on previous uploads here's my f1 kinktober masterlist and my general masterlist for all of my works!

oscar is known for his unfazed, composed and collected demeanor. he’s aware that some people say he has no personality–but, he’s just an introvert at the end of the day. oscar’s a man of few words: that’s what people who aren’t well acquainted with him would say. if you’ve had the pleasure of sticking around oscar long enough for him to become comfortable with you, you’ll learn that oscar has an incredibly complex personality. he’s overly sarcastic, has a niche sense of humor, and can ramble endlessly at you. but, he’s still a fairly calm and quiet individual. which is why the way oscar is about to scream at the top of his lungs in the middle of this mclaren event, would be considered uncharacteristic of him.

he originally invited you to join him tonight thinking that having you by his side would eliminate the social exhaustion he experiences at these types of sponsor events. however, the aussie failed to realize that you may introduce a…different problem, to tonight’s business party. when oscar asked you to join him two weeks ago, he was prepared for all of your objections–you’re both chronic homebodies, and you both hate partaking in small talk with balding, later-aged, cologne-drenched, white men who don’t know when to let a conversation die. he chose the perfect time to ask you (after you emerged from the bathroom post-self-care bath), and addressed all of your grievances. 

oh, you don’t have anything to wear? he already bought you an outfit, had it altered to perfectly fit your measurements, and bought you a pair of heels and a purse to match. oh, you won’t be able to get your hair done in time? he already scheduled an appointment with your usual hairstylist the day before the event, paid all of her fees, and tipped her very nicely. oh, your nails aren’t done?  he booked you a spot at your preferred nail salon for a premium mani-pedi, and has a few nail inspiration photos picked out if you can’t decide. if you need your lashes done or need to get waxed, he can make the call right now; he has them on standby to fit you in.

knowing the amount of phone calls oscar had to partake in to arrange all of this causes you to fold and agree to join him. there’s nothing more the two of you hate than making phone calls–well, besides the pr events.

oscar had chosen an alluring burnt-orange mesh corset and matching ruched ankle-length skirt that looks beautiful against your warm, soft and shining brown skin. your hair is silk-pressed, length reaching your mid-back and your edges are laid in a minimal manner, matching the simplicity of your makeup look. simple gold rings are spread across a few fingers, ears accessorized with a pair of small good hoops oscar gifted you, and his initials rest in the dip between your clavicles attached to a thin gold chain. objectively, you're considerably modestly dressed, the only skin you're showing is on your arms, shoulders, a smidge of your decolletage, and the tops of your feet in the low-heeled strappy sandals. 

this is the start of what oscar failed to account for. he didn’t expect the outfit to hug your curves like plastic wrap. the whole night he’s had to forcefully deny himself the opportunity to stare at your ass, but that doesn’t mean the other men at the event have the same courtesy. he’s taken to burning holes with his eyes into anybody who lets their gaze linger over your form for a second too long. on a regular day, oscar is generally unaffected by anyone who appreciates your body (they can look, but the second they try to touch–you let them know exactly how they had you fucked up), but if he catches one more mclaren engineer undressing you with their eyes–he will make zac fire all of them; he’ll plan his own race strategy and do his goddamn pitstop by himself.

oscar also didn’t account for how your timid and sweet attitude would have everyone enamored with you; at first, watching everyone eagerly attune to your shy words was amusing to him, but it quickly became a nuisance. he was originally leading you around the room, doing his rounds at any important figures’ tables, and everything was fine. and then, oscar had made the obvious mistake of making you laugh–a pleasant stream of giggles spilling from your lips, dimples deepening, and smile widening at whatever small joke he made. he’s always thrilled to see how you throw your head back in amusement, how your hands clap together gleefully, and how your eyes squint in from the force of your laughter. as he shakes himself out of your dazzling trance, he attempts to rejoin the conversation–but every single person at the table remains entranced and wide-eyed at you. 

this would be completely fine, of course, if it was a one-off occasion; but it’s not. 

suddenly, every person oscar tries to thank for supporting mclaren, starts ignoring him and paying more attention to you. he’s literally the pilot of the car that these people are spending an absurd amount of money on, but they can’t even bother to try and pretend to listen to him. men and women alike are finding any excuse to prolong conversations with you, and even lean within your personal space with the excuse that ‘they can’t hear you very well because you’re so soft spoken.’ nobody can invade your personal space, but oscar. he has no choice but to do the very thing he hates–pda. you continue to circle around the room, his hand constantly resting on the small of your back or the dip of your waist. when you’re in the middle of listening to some completely unnecessary story a man is telling you, oscar constantly adjusts your hair, plays with your rings, and smooths down your skirt if he feels like they’re trying too hard. you banish oscar to getting you a glass of water when he begins to interject in conversations in a passive-aggressive manner.

his third strike off the night, might actually be an overall win in his books. when you saw oscar in his new fitted suit, you stared him dead in the eye and told him to ‘get naked and rail you’. it’s this beautiful deep cream color that pairs perfectly with the dark orange tone of your outfit, but the vest underneath the suit jacket highlights his tiny waist so clearly that it makes you want to scream. in between socializing, you overwhelm oscar with compliments, unable to stop telling him how handsome he looks. you surgically attach yourself to his side and hug his arm; taking an occasional squeeze of his bicep, playing with his cufflinks, and tracing the veins on the back of his hand. oscar practically runs to get you a refill of water because he’d be unable to stop himself from getting fully hard if you touched him any longer–the trousers hide nothing.

he can feel your burning gaze from across the room, and turns back to watch you after asking a waiter for water, and catches your eyes roaming the length of his body. in high-definition, he sees your tongue wetting your lips before you bite at your bottom lip–and then, your attention is stolen away from some random man who’s introducing himself to you and the group of ladies you found yourself accosted by as soon as oscar left your side.

and, that’s it for oscar. he thinks he may have heard his last-fucking-button being pressed inside his head, and seethes. he goes to push off from his leaned stance against the counter and makes to start his warpath, but a hand grasps at his shoulder. oscar turns around snappily, biting out an irritated and sarcastic, “can i help you?”

“woah! calm down now, mate. thought you were going to bite my head off for a second,” it’s lando, “if i were anybody else i’m sure there would be an unfortunate tabloid of ‘how oscar piastri is the most rude f1 driver on the grid’” lando jokes teasingly, yet a hint of seriousness leaks into his tone. 

oscar nods, understanding the underlying warning within the brit’s teasing. he apologizes softly to lando, before glancing back over at you, and can infer that you charmingly informed the man that you have a boyfriend—based on the way you point in his direction. oscar watches the polite smile fade from your face as the man continues to bother you, and the murderous look rises to his face again.

“OKAY”, lando claps abruptly, startling not only oscar, but everyone in a 10 foot radius. lando waves everyone else’s eyes away, smiling like he didn’t do anything, and speaks underneath his breath, “go. i’ll cover for you.”

oscar’s mouth drops open, baffled, “what?”

“leave—get your girlfriend and go,” lando says matter-of-factly, his smile becoming genuine, “zac probably won’t like to hear that you looked particularly murderous, and he definitely won’t like hearing that you slaughtered our sponsors, and that i let it happen.”

oscar snorts before he thanks lando sincerely, and the brit dismisses him, “i’m just looking out for my rookie teammate as the senior driver for our team. i can’t let your horny teenage mindset become common knowledge to our esteemed guests.”

“first of all,” oscar says dryly, his grateful mood dissipating at the mocking, “i didn’t even know you knew the word ‘esteemed' existed,” lando scoffs, “and secondly, you are literally only two years older than me.”

lando looks at oscar with a blank stare and deadpans, “do you want to leave or not?”

oscar daps up his teammate in farewell, and makes his way over to you as quickly as he can without seeming desperate, your glass of water left behind on the counter. your back is facing him as he approaches and you're still unwillingly participating in conversation with the man who can’t take no for an answer. as he gets closer, he can piece together the conversation; the dude doesn’t believe you have a boyfriend and you must be lying to him, and you’re adamant that your boyfriend is very real.

“look, bro. even if i was lying about having a boyfriend, why would i give you my number now? like, i’m just supposed to forget how you’ve been harassing me—“

oscar rests his hand on your side, and when you turn your head to see who’s touching you, he leans down and kisses you. it’s a kiss deep enough to let everyone know who you’re leaving with tonight, but not deep enough to be salacious (he can hear lando’s cackle from the other side of the room).

you melt into his kiss before he pulls away, leaving you dazed and disoriented, stumbling into him. oscar drapes his left arm around your shoulder, guiding you to tuck into his side, while he offers his right hand to the offending man for a handshake. “it seems i haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you yet. i’m oscar, i drive for mclaren,” he introduces himself, sounding overly pleased.

the man angers, ignoring oscar’s extended hand and cockily states, “you should already know who i am. my family nicely lent you the mclaren you drove here tonight!”

“ah,” oscar smiles viciously, “if ‘your family’ kindly lent me the car, that would explain why i only remember your father’s name–and not his arrogant, disrespectful, and narcissistic trust-fund son’s name.”

the man stomps his foot in rage, like a spoiled brat, and questions, “who do you think you’re talking too?!”

oscar smirks, “nobody important, apparently,” (one of the ladies listening whispers a quiet ‘damn, that’s crazy’), oscar continues, “don’t worry, mate–i’ll make sure your father’s car returns home to him safely. should i bill you for any cleaning, in case i make a mess of it?”

the guy stumbles over a response before he scoffs and stomps away. oscar shrugs uncaring, before addressing the group of ladies who were cliqued to the side watching the whole interaction, “well. if you all don’t mind, i’m just going to steal her away from you ladies, if that’s okay?” (like there’s an option). the ladies fawn over oscar’s protectiveness before they let the two of you go, and then he starts herding you towards the exit.

it’s torture. in every five steps the two of you take, you're interrupted by various guests trying to catch you one last time. oscar feels like they’re all intentionally aggravating him; patting you on the arm, commenting on how eye-catching you look, and using the fact that the two of you are leaving to press a kiss to your hand in goodbye. you two burst out of the main doors and sigh in relief, for different reasons–for you, it’s because oscar didn’t give one of his sponsors brain damage, and for oscar, it’s because he’s one step closer to getting you in his bed.

you grasp at oscar’s hand, and he starts to lead you down the steps towards the valet, and as you fall into step at his side, you speak softly under your breath, “i can understand why you kissed me like that inside because the dude was being an asshole–even though you were marking your territory like some kind of dog–but, please; don’t tear this poor man’s throat out for helping me into the car.”

the australian remains quiet, properly chastised and works on releasing the pent up effect of the annoyances from inside the venue. everything is going well; the valet asks oscar for his parking ticket, and he goes to grab the keys, but stops just before he makes to start heading to the car, and turns back to you two and says, “i don’t know if i told you when you walked in but–you look incredibly beautiful tonight, miss. you could be a model, seriously. like, you should feel so lucky to have a woman like her–”

all attempts of oscar finding his peace are thrown out of the window. he interrupts the dude’s rambling, and bites out, “hey man, y’know what. i can just take the keys to the car. we can walk to it.”

the valet stutters, confused, “a-are you sure, i mean it’s like pretty far in the back. i can run and get it no pro–”

“it’s FINE! i mean, it’s cool, we can use the extra steps, y’know. enjoy the breeze and everything,” oscar says, slightly maniacal. there’s no breeze, it’s warm. the valet’s and your eyes meet for a second and a shared thought of “he’s trippin” is passed telepathically.

the valet concedes, not wanting to upset the f1 driver any farther and tosses him the keys. as the two of you are passing by, oscar hands the man a bill that’s probably too big based on the man’s astonished gasp. you call out to the man, continuing to walk further in the lot, “sorry about him! he just gets a little touchy about strangers driving his car, y’know?” oscar grumbles lowly next to you, and you smack him on the arm, “what did you want me to say? ‘oh sorry, my boyfriend just wants to fuck me really badly to soothe his needless jealousy?’”

“as long as he knows who’s the one who gets to take you home and fuck you.”

“oscar!” you squeak, “we both know we’d die of embarrassment if you said that. i can’t even imagine those words coming out of your mouth, in that order.”

you guys eventually puzzle out where the car is after several remote beeps of the car’s horn, and find that it’s literally tucked away in the last row, far corner with no surrounding cars for two rows.

oscar doesn’t open your door like he usually does, and leads you around to the driver's side. he opens the door, pushes the seat back as far as it goes, and sits down. without saying anything, he loosens his tie and goes to unbuckle his belt before you reach down and grab at his hand, bewildered, “oscar jack! what the fuck are you doing?”

he blinks, “i’m fucking you, right now. it’s too long of a drive back—i’m going to crash the car if you keep sitting next to me in that goddamn outfit. i was going to take you to the bathroom inside, but i figured you’d at least prefer the car. you can be a little louder here.”

your mouth dries, “you said they loaned you an incredibly rare, vintage mclaren, babe. i’m not gonna-“

oscar wrestles his way out of his suit jacket, spreads it underneath him on the leather seat, and pats his lap. “problem solved.”

shifting your weight, you glance around nervously. oscar is right, you would prefer the car over the bathroom. all those people inside who could overhear, gossip, and spread the news of how rookie mclaren, f1 driver, oscar piastri, had you yelling his name in the middle of an event. you’d pass.

“oh, c’mon now, babe. you didn’t think i saw the way you were eating me alive with your eyes inside,” your boyfriend teases, “i know you‘ve at least gotten a little wet for me already, haven’t you?”

that’s all it takes; the australian acting possessive and feening to get inside you is more than enough to have you straddling his lap and pulling the car door shut with a slam.

oscar tugs you into dirty make out, and you get lost in his pink lips, tugging teeth, and explorative tongue. the last of your breath tapers out in a reedy moan, and you break the kiss to pant against his lips, and oscar laughs. his laughter spreads through your chest, and it has your hips rolling against the bulge you feel underneath you. his amusement is cut off, and his hands fly to grip at your hips. he starts tugging you against him in a filthy grind, and choked off moans from the two of you start to fill the car.

you press kisses to oscar’s jaw line, paving a path down to his wide strong neck with your tongue. you suck on small patches of skin, not using enough suction to leave a mark, but enough for oscar to become aware of the fantasization that you could. the aussie gasps at every random suckle of your lips as he scrambles to pull the skirt up your legs. you shift your hips up to make it easier for him, as your hands feel down his torso to his belt. it unbuckles fairly easily, and you shove it out of the way, to unzip the slacks and pull his cock out.

oscar moans, throwing his head back at the feel of your hand on his length, and you get entranced in the trap that his pale thick neck is, again. you hum against his neck, introducing teeth alongside the ache of the suction of your mouth, and bully the collar of his shirt out of the way to find a space to leave a few marks. oscar’s breath freezes at the first hickey he feels you leave, but the rapid inhale he takes next clears his mind enough to have his right hand pull your panties to the side, and move to caress your heat.

you shudder on top of him, your breathy sigh amplified within the car. oscar sinks two fingers inside of you, and a much louder moan is tugged out. your hands fly up to grasp onto his shoulder, and your head tilts backward away from his neck in pleasure. his fingers thrust into you gently for a few beats slowly working to open you up for him and once he feels your cunt starting to relax, his thumb reaches to press at your clit. whines fill the air, as you lean all the way back, resting your back on the steering wheel allowing oscar all the space he needs to stretch you out. his fingers start curling as they drag out of you, and you can feel the pads of his fingers rubbing over a soft spot on the front of your walls. 

oscar’s eyes were stuck marveling over the overwhelmed expression on your face, but once he starts feeling wetness dripping down his arm he glances down, and curses out a rough, “fuck, baby—you’re dripping all over me.” your cheeks burn hot, and you can’t tell if that’s out of humiliation or the effect of his awe-filled voice. your right hand releases his shoulder, and bats at his arm, before tugging at his wrist to pull his fingers out, “that’s enough, mmm, just get in me already.”

oscar eagerly draws away; he uses his clean hand to tug his wallet out of his back pocket, and tugs a condom out with a smidge of struggle before handing it to you. you snatch it out of his hand, biting it open and rolling it over his cock, and once it’s on, you tease, “jeez, osc. you really were planning on jumping me in the middle of the event tonight—grabbing a condom and everything; you think i’m that easy?”

he chuckles, satisfied, his hand drenched in your wetness rubbing over his cock to get him slick, and teases back, “you’re about to ride my cock in the parking lot of said event, pretending to be worried about ruining the seats of this vintage car. i’m not calling you easy, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared, does it?”

your cheeks are definitely burning from humiliation this time around, but you huff, ignoring him checking you. you tug his hand away, raising your hips, and guide him to your entrance with your own hand, before slowly sinking down. 

twin sets of moans fill the air as he bottoms out; one of his hands reaches to palm at your ass (it’s sticky, so it must be the one he fingered you with), and the other grips at your waist tightly. you squirm on top of him, knees barely managing to find enough room to prop on the seat to give you a stable base. once you feel stable in your cramped position, you give a testing grind of your hips, and from there, it’s lights out.

oscar lets you set the pace for a few thrusts, suffering in the languid rock of your hips; you’re torturously tight around him, and he can only groan at the feeling of you wrapped around him. his chest heaves, before he brings both hands to halt your hips, and starts fucking up into you rough and quick. a scream jostles out of your throat at the unexpected change of speed, but you just take it with no complaints, allowing yourself to go limp against the wheel of the car to hold your body upright. he moves your body for you, pulling you downwards to meet his upward thrusts; and you feel him constantly applying pressure against that one tender spot right under your navel.

your boyfriend revels in the sound of the moans he’s punching out of your throat, admiring the way your head is thrown back—mouth open wide, eyes scrunched tight, lips bruised and bitten to hell. it’s a lewd picture, painted by himself. the car rocks along to his frantic rhythm, windows fogging, and sweat begins to form on both of your skin. the aussie’s core tightens; he won’t last much longer, you’ve had him half-hard the whole night.

a frustrated grunt escapes oscar, and you hum questionably about to ask what’s wrong–but his right hand leaves your waist to furiously start circling your clit, and an ear piercing shriek leaves you. “c’mon now, babe. ah-be good and come f’me yeah? im so close, baby–please,” he babbles, the last shred of sanity leaving him. his hips don’t falter once–to you it feels like they’re moving quicker, every sensitive spot receiving attention from the sharp snaps of them.

you cry out, it’s all too much; your hand reaches down to press against his navel in a feeble attempt to stop him from stroking so deep and roughly, and incoherent pleads try and tumble out of your mouth, “mm! osc–no! ah–too much, baby! it’s too much–hngh–feels weird–s-slow down!” it’s like his ears are filled with cotton; he can hear you begging down at him but can’t make out what your saying over the blood rushing in his ears. he’s trapped staring at your pretty cunt, watching the obscene amount of wetness coming out of you–the suit jacket underneath him is completely ruined, and he off-handedly thinks it won’t be saving the leather upholstery.

your legs start quivering and trembling–it damn near looks like you're freezing to death, even though the car has become as humid as a sauna. your own orgasm shocks you, and your eyes roll back erotically–unable to give oscar any warning. and in your last moment of awareness, you realize that something feels different, but it’s too late.

you choke on your scream of, “oscar, fuck!” as fluid gushes out of your cunt, and the first wave is enough to completely drench oscar’s pants, and oscar finally returns to the moment in amazement. he eagerly brushes his hand against your clit, and shortens his strokes to quick little jabs to force more of your juices out, and you can only ride along. you try to slam your legs shut, to jostle oscar’s hand away, but it’s futile with his torso propping you open for him. you’re sobbing messily, as he forces more liquid to spray from your cunt–and he moans out his own orgasm, ripped from him in surprise. the australian halts his stimulation this time around when you frantically tug his wrist away when the pleasure melds to pain, and allows himself to get a few more jerks of his hips in.

you fall forward, collapsing into his chest–the squelch of your thighs meeting his pant-covered ones has him humming and grinding his hips into you as gently as he can. the two of you shake against each other, hearts rabbiting as you catch your breath. oscar’s hands rise to rub at your back, bringing you down from the aftershocks still trembling over your body. 

“i-i’ve never squirted before,” you whisper into his neck.

your boyfriend hums softly, “did you like it?”

he feels you nod against him shyly.

“then, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he comforts, knowing if he seems approving of it, you’ll be quicker to accept it as something good, “how i’m going to explain the ruined suit and car seat to mclaren on the other hand…”

a shaky laugh from you causes oscar to smile, “i told you you shouldn’t fuck me in the car.”

“how was i supposed to know that tonight would be the night i’d made you gush all over me?! i was hoping that when the time came we’d at least be on a couch,” he whines.

“shut the fuck up,” you joke, “i want a live play by play when you explain the cleaning bill to zac.”

the aussie pauses, faking thoughtfulness, “maybe i should send the bill to the trust-fund baby. zac would back me up–he’s american, he’d probably find it hilarious.”

oscar gently shifts you over to the passenger seat, and you tug your skirt all the way down, and he fights his way out of his slacks that stuck to his thighs with your wetness. he manages to wrangle them off and kicks them to the side of the car floor along with the soiled suit jacket, after fishing the keys out of them, sitting out in his boxers, and glances over to see you adjusting your appearance as best as you possibly can.

“you want a mcflurry?” the aussie offers.

“as long as we can get a fry with it,” you smile at the random shift in conversation, allowing him to hide his embarrassment.

oscar turns the keys in the ignition, and the engine rolls into life with a deep, vibrating hum. he catches your legs pressing together tightly, and you squirm at the purr of the engine under your seat.

“well,” oscar starts nonchalantly as he reverses out of the spot, “you have the time that it takes to get from the drive-through to the flat to finish eating–because as soon as we get home, i’m taking you to bed and learning how to make you squirt, consistently. i don’t care how long it takes, or how many orgasms you have–i’ll keep going ‘til you come dry, babe.”

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© httpsserene 2023

[inlovewithpandora]

ꕥ — Found Someone Better / The End Of An Era

Artists — Jake x Neytiri x fem!avatar!reader

Genre — Chapter One

Lyrics — The beautiful relationship you use to have with your mates in the beginning has become loveless. Their horrible treatment toward you drove you into making the hardest decision of your life: running away.

Music Advisory — Pre-Atwow, Angst, hurt w/o comfort, sprinkles of fluff (with Lo’ak), ooc Jake, ooc Neytiri, dying marriage (that ends in implied divorce/breakup) implied/light scenes of domestic violence, implied emotional/physical abuse, mentions of manhandling, controlling!Jake, mean!Jake, mean!Neytiri, implied neglect, Kids are aged-down: Tuk - 1 / Lo’ak, Kiri, and Spider - 7 /Neteyam - 8

Some of the topics above are considered triggering to some. If you don’t agree with any of the content above or it makes you uncomfortable please dni! You’re responsible for your own consumption!

Duration — 4.3k

Index — ‘itan - son / yawntutsyìp - darling / mawey - calm

Words From Artist — The first chapter of the series is finally here! I’m so excited to start this series because this idea has been brewing for a while! This story will take you on an emotional roller coaster so grab some tissues, get ready to be upset at certain situations, smile at the happy moments, and smirk during the spicy scenes! I hope y’all enjoy and always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions! With that being said let the story begin!!

Current Platforms — Series M.list ・Series Taglist・Main M.list

As you sit in front of the cooking fire, stirring the pot of food you’re serving for lunch, you look up and see Neytiri sitting on Jake’s lap as they work on weaving a blanket together. Their laughs echo through the room and you can see them stealing kisses from each other every few minutes which makes you roll your eyes in annoyance. You haven’t always felt this way about your mates, your heart wasn't always filled with hate from how affectionate they are towards each other, but over the years this is what your relationship has gradually become: them being in their own world while you sit on the sidelines feeling alone.

In the beginning of your relationship, you felt love from them, probably Neytiri more than Jake, but nonetheless it was present. When you made the decision to become their mate, you left the comfort of the lab and fully emerged yourself into the Na’vi lifestyle and that included the soul transfer to permanently become one with your Avatar body. You loved being a scientist, but you loved being with your spouses more, so you put that aspect of your life on hold to explore a deeper relationship with them.

You knew they had an established relationship prior to you coming into the picture, and you were fine with that because they were always loving and kind towards you, but now they’re too consumed with each other to show you any sort of affection. When you first started noticing Jake and Neytiri not wanting to be intimate with you, you assumed it was because they were stressed or tired from their duties as Olo’eyktan and Tsakarem, plus having to take care of four entergetic children. However, one day while you were walking in the forest, collecting fruits to prepare as a side dish for lunch, you witnessed Jake and Neytiri having sex in a clearing of grass, his hands gripped tightly around her waist as he thrusted into her from behind as moans of pleasure spilled from Neytiri’s lips.

Watching your mates indulge in acts of sexual pleasure without you made you feel a tinge of pain that was indescribable. Knowing that your partners, the people who were supposed to love you the most, no longer saw you as sexually appetizing and felt the need to sneak around made your stomach turn into knots. Deep down you always felt like you should say something, tell them that you caught them during their private rendezvous, but you decided to keep quiet because you didn’t want a conflict to arise and make your living situation worse than it currently is.

No matter how hard you thought about it and replayed all the memories in your head about different stages of your relationship, you could never figure out when or why their love for you faded. Sometimes you would think about separating from them and moving on with your life, but you tolerated their behavior because of your children, not wanting them to grow up in a broken home.

While grinding a few herbs to season your food with, you hear the sound of small feet running in the marui, making a small creep on your face, already knowing who it could be. “Mama!” Lo’ak shouts in excitement while he runs up to you and wraps his arms around your neck, happy to see you after a long day.

“Hi, baby, how was your day?” You ask as you plant a kiss on his cheek, wanting to hear everything about his day so far. Lo’ak was your biological son, you gave birth to him a year after Neytiri had Neteyam. Lo’ak is your pride and joy, when you gave birth to him you felt like he was your physical heart on display. Knowing that this little boy came from your womb made you want to be the best mother to him, so that’s what you’ve done ever since he took his first breath.

When Lo’ak opens his mouth, ready to give you a spiel about his day, Jake’s voice begins to bounce off the walls of the marui, already deciding to start a sense of chaos. “Lo’ak! Stop talking and go do your chores around the house!”

“But I was-”

“Now, boy! Don’t talk back to me!” Lo’ak’s ear flattens against his head and the light of excitement in his eyes dims. When he was on the way home, he was compiling so many stories together in his head, so many things happened and he couldn’t wait to tell you every second of it, so when his father denies him the chance, it makes him deeply upset.

You don’t like seeing Lo’ak like this, a downcast expression and sad eyes, so you decide to pull him closer to you so you could tell him something that you know for sure would lift his spirits. “Don’t be sad, ‘itan. When you finish, me and you will go out and I’ll take you to your favorite pond to play in.” You could tell he’s back in his happy boyish mood when his frown turns into a smile and his head pops up from him staring at the ground. “Okay!” He replies in the quietest tone possible before running off to his chores so you both can go on your adventure.

When you watch him disappear to another part of the marui, Kiri and Neteyam greet you with a hug and a few kisses, telling you how much they missed you and how they were ready to come home. Once they finish talking to you they start playing in the center of the room which makes your eyebrow raise in a confused manner, wondering why their father hasn’t sent them to complete their current duties around the house like their younger brother. “Jake, why aren’t they doing anything?”

“‘Cause they don’t need to, they’re fine.” His harsh tone doesn’t phase you, he’s used it one too many times before, so you're used to it by now. Jake has always treated Lo’ak differently than the rest of the children, no matter how much Lo’ak tried to get his father to interact with him, he would always decline. He showed his other children more love and affection, taking them out to play and carving them wooden toys, but for Lo’ak, he didn’t do any of those things and sometimes not even your other mate. It never made sense to you why he or Neytiri treat Lo’ak that way, he’s such a sweet and innocent boy and he doesn’t deserve that type of treatment. Since they’re emotionally negligent, you always make it your mission to pour love and affection into Lo’ak’s life to fill in the areas they lack.

Instead of telling Jake how you feel about his way of handling things, you just sit back and bite your tongue, not wanting to start an argument with the kids in the room. All you could do is shake your head at his cold demeanor and how Neytiri is just sitting there like what just happened is okay. When Jake turns his attention from you and looks back toward Neytiri, you can see his facial expression soften; he looks more calm with Neytiri, he acts as if she’s his only mate, the only love of his life and that’s what makes you want to scream and cry at the same time. Just seeing them interact with each other makes you wonder how the hell your once loving relationship turned into this.

—

Jake and Neytiri took the older kids into the village so they could go to their young warrior training to learn and practice the basics about Na’vi life. Therefore, you’re currently home taking care of Tuk, watching her walk around the marui while babbling in her baby language that only she can understand. The sun starts to set and you see Tuk starting to get sleepy, little yawns coming from her mouth as her tiny hands rub her eyes. “Is my little one tired?” You ask as you scoop her up off the floor and cradle her in your arms. She responds to your question with a cute nod, looking up at you with her big golden eyes making your heart melt. You lay her gently down in her wooden crib before pulling her woven blanket over her and kissing her goodnight.

When you close the privacy curtain to the makeshift doorway, you see your family walking inside. Your eyes focus on how Jake has his hand wrapped around the back of Lo’ak’s neck, making you wonder what’s going on between them. When Jake roughly lets go of him, Lo’ak runs to you with tears in his eyes, making your protective instincts arise. “What’s wrong, ‘itan?” You bend down to his eyes level, wanting to figure out what was the cause of his tears. When you see a few drops of clear liquid trickle down his face, you take your thumb and wipe under his eyes. “Talk to me, yawntutsyìp. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Me and Ne-Neteyam were taking turns shooting the bow he made and when it was m-my turn, I broke it. It was an accident, but dad got mad and yelled at me.” As he tells you what happened, he sniffles in between every few words, his chest rises from trying to stifle his tears, and by looking at how his tail is tightly curled behind his body, you could tell what happened between him and his father frightened him.

You immediately pull him into your embrace, wrapping your arms around his body so you could soothe him, wanting to make him feel safe and comfortable. “Mawey, it’s okay, Lo’ak. I know you didn’t mean to break it and your father does too, he just… gets angry sometimes.” You rub his back, letting his head rest on your shoulder so he could relax. While continuing to calm Lo’ak down, you see Jake sitting at the wooden table working on something that’s related to his duties. Clearly he could see how upset Lo’ak was and he just sat there as if nothing was happening.

Watching Lo’ak come to you with tears in his eyes and viewing Jake treat Lo’ak roughly made an anger that’s been building up for years beg to be released. You’ve been wanting to give Jake a piece of your mind for a long time and tonight you’re finally pissed enough to make your feelings known. “Go in your room and wait for me. I’ll come in a little bit okay?” Lo’ak nods his head in response and before he turns to walk away, you kiss his forehead and let him know that you love him.

Seeing you send Lo’ak to bed made Neytiri follow suit, deciding to walk Neteyam and Kiri into their sleeping area, giving you the perfect opportunity to talk to your so called husband. “Jake, I need to talk to you.”

The man wasn’t in any mood to converse, especially when he’s in the middle of creating new trade strategies, so when he hears your statement he grumbles under his breath before deciding to respond, barely giving you a sliver of his attention. “What?”

“I’ve tried to stick this marriage out for as long as I can, but I can’t do it anymore. I want out of this, Jake.”

When the sentence falls into the air, Jake’s face scrunches up and his eyebrows raise. He doesn’t like a thing you just said, so when it finally registers in his mind, he abruptly stops what he was doing and walks over to you. “Leave? You’re not leaving this marriage, we are mated for life!” He growls, towering over your frame that was smaller compared to his. He wasn’t going to let you leave because if you left, the clan would look at him as insufficient, not being good enough to keep his mate and he wasn’t going to let you ruin his reputation.

“Why not? You and Neytiri don’t even show me any attention anymore, you both act as if I mean nothing! You do everything together and nothing with me and I’m not going to stay in a dead marriage!” You shout at him, causing Neytiri to come out and see what was going on. “And I don’t appreciate how you treat Lo’ak, I’m not going to keep letting you be mean and rude towards our child!”

“Mean?” He scoffs as if you offended him by your remark, his tail begins to thrash behind him as he bares his teeth. “You’re lucky I even got you pregnant! If I wasn’t drunk that night you wouldn’t even have him!” At this particular time in your marriage Jake had recently started falling out of love with you, the only way he could stomach having sex with you —when it was happening— was drinking a few cups of fermented fruit beforehand and on the night of conception there was a clan celebration so he indulged in hefty amounts of alcohol. “I didn’t even want a child with you, I just fucked up one night.” Jake doesn’t have any empathy for how his actions affected you, past or present. His face holds zero emotion and in his twisted mind, he doesn’t see anything wrong with his actions.

When his confession resonates, it finally clicks. The reason he treats Lo’ak like shit is because he didn’t even want him. Knowing that the man you loved didn’t want to create a child with you like you always thought he did makes your chest tighten with feelings of anger. Not only does that piss you off, but the fact that he happily gave Neytiri two children makes your head spin. “You bastard, I can’t fuckin’ believe you!” The volume of your voice raises as you place your hand on Jake’s chest, shoving him to try and release some of the raging aggression that was coursing through your body.

Before you can speak another word or angrily put your hands on Jake again, Neytiri stands in front of you, putting space between you and Jake. “Don’t touch him!” She hisses, now placing her hands on your chest, giving you a subtle threat. You’re taken aback at Neytiri being fierce toward you, not understanding why she’s upset with you and not with Jake. By her not reacting, it only means one thing: she knew about what he had done.

“Did you know Jake felt that way? Were both of you in fuckin’ cahoots or something?!” You hiss back at her and show your fangs, giving her the same energy she’s emitting. You can’t believe she would do something like this, you could see Jake doing something like this, but Neytiri being a co-conspirator makes everything hurt ten times worse.

While you’re spewing insults at Neytiri, Jake’s blood starts boiling. He has already been fed up with you, but now since you are going at Neytiri, he decides that he’s finally sick of you and your ‘dramatics’ as he calls them. He places himself in front of you and grabs your chin, pressing his fingers into your skin, tilting your head upward so you could look him in the eye. “I’m gonna say this one time and it’ll be my last. You are not leaving this marriage, you will stay in this house, and take care of your son.” His callous fingers are digging into your skin, making your skin crawl with fear, worried about what he might do next.

“And don’t you ever talk back to me, I’m your Olo’eyktan and you will show me some damn respect!” He speaks through gritted teeth, and his eyes fill with a mix of disgust and aggression. The more he talks, the more he squeezes your face, making your lips pucker out. “You got that?” You nod your head as much as you could, not wanting to be defiant because you’re scared he might hit you like he’s done in the past. When Jake lets his anger get the best of him or he comes home from drinking with the warriors, he would take his frustrations out on you, always leaving you with a bruise or two and sometimes worse depending on his mood.

When he’s satisfied with your response he roughly releases you, pushing you against the wall of the marui. He doesn’t say another word, he just walks to another part of the marui with Neytiri trailing behind him. When they walk out of your line of sight, you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding, followed by silent sobs. You don’t know how you got into this situation, trapped in a loveless relationship and feeling confined in the walls of your own home, but you were going to get yourself out of it by any means necessary.

As your warm tears continue to flow, creating liquid stains on your bra top, you hear the sound of a privacy curtain open. “Mama, Are you okay?” When Lo’ak’s voice rings through your ears, you hurriedly wipe your tears and force a happy expression on your face, not wanting him to see you in a saddened and distraught state.

You look up and see him peeking his head out the makeshift doorway which makes you chuckle at how cute he looks. “Yes, I’m fine, ‘itan. Come here.” You beckon and he comes walking toward you and sits on your lap. “How about I let you stay up a little longer tonight and I take you to play in the pond like I promised?” You ask while lightly poking his stomach, making Lo’ak erupt with giggles.

“Yayyy!” He stands up excitedly, grabbing your hand and pulling your arm so you can stand up. You stand up and you begin to walk with him to the nearby pond that’s a few feet away from the marui. Once you get close enough, Lo’ak unravels his hand from yours and runs into the pond at full speed, splashing around in the water as his eyes filled with amazement as the bioluminescent fish swim around his feet. Seeing the smile etched on his face helps you make one of the toughest decisions you’ve ever made. You know it will be difficult, but it needs to be done, before matters escalate into something you can’t control.

—

After that night with Jake, you started being more submissive than usual, doing anything and everything Neytiri and Jake ask while you waited for the argument to blow over. It took lots of self control and restraint to bite your tongue and not say anything to them but you kept your eyes on the prize.

It’s now a few weeks later and they’ve completely forgotten about the whole argument, which means it’s the perfect time for you to take Lo’ak and leave the forest. You’re sitting in the center of the marui, finishing up a newly woven blanket for Tuk while allowing the paste to dry on the handcrafted necklaces you made for Neteyam, Kiri, and Spider. When you finish the last stitch you hold up the blanket, admiring how nice the pattern came out. While looking at the blanket your eyes wander to the child sized jewelry on the floor next to you, making a saddened sigh leave your lips at the thought of these physical items will be how each of them will remember you. These pieces you made are special, the last gift the four of them will receive from you before you leave. You want to say goodbye to them in person, but you know that if you see their sad faces and tear filled eyes, you won’t be able to leave. All of them see you as their mother and you treat them as if they’re your biological children because that’s how much they mean to you.

You gather the gifts and place them on the wooden table along with two letters, one for the kids and one for Jake and Neytiri. The letter for the children contains heartfelt messages, telling them how much you love them and how you know that one day Eywa will guide them to wherever you decide to make you and Lo’ak’s new home. The letter to your now ex-mates is the complete opposite. You tell them how you’re tired of being treated like you hold no value, like the scum of the planet. All the built up emotions you felt over the years: invalidated, ignored, forgotten, and every negative emotion they made you feel you poured into your writing, wanting them to know how much pain and suffering they’ve caused you. You ended the letter with telling them that they can now have a happy live together with just the two of them because you’re done with them.

Looking at each object on the table makes everything feel more real, you were finally breaking yourself free from the restraints of Jake and Neytiri. You’re scared you might not be making the right decision, scared that everything wouldn’t be greener on the other side if you leave. You don’t know where Lo’ak and you are going to live yet, but you’re planning on flying in whatever direction the wind takes you.

As you notice the sun hiding behind the horizon you start packing essentials for the journey along with different keepsakes to remind you of your time with the Omatikaya. You pack quickly, wanting to leave before Jake and Neytiri come back home with Neteyam, Kiri, and Tuk. “Lo’ come on! We have to go!” You explained to Lo’ak yesterday that you both are going to leave and at first, he was sad, he didn’t want to leave his siblings, grandmother, or Spider, but when you explained that it would be better for you both to leave, he was able to understand in the best way a seven-year old could.

When you hear movement, you assume it’s Lo’ak, so you turn around but your eyes land on Mo’at which makes you nervous. You know she’s already witnessed you packing your things, so you stand up, trying to come up with an excuse, but before you speak, she puts her hand up, stopping you from conjuring up a lie. “I already know.” A few days ago she was given a vision from Eywa that you were leaving and Mo’at was here to settle your mind and tell you where you should make your new home.

“Mo’at, I don’t want to leave but I have to. I can’t handle the mistreatment and suffering anymore and I don’t want that to trickle down to Lo’ak.” As you continue explaining the reason behind your decision Mo’at nods with soft eyes, understanding why you feel compelled to leave. There have been multiple instances where you came to Mo’at’s marui in the middle of the night, riddled with bruises and fresh tears running down your face from a heated argument that turned physical with Jake and Neytiri. She hates that you had to endure their cruel treatment when you’re nothing but a good mate to them, so she is glad that you are finally leaving, even though she would miss you and Lo’ak.

“I understand, ‘ite, I will help you leave if that is what you wish.” Mo’at places her hand on your shoulder, taking in your presence since she knows that this will be the last time she’ll see you for a long time.

“I don’t know where me and Lo’ak should go. I want to leave in a few hours before everyone comes home, but I don’t know where to go. Pandora is so vast and I want to go somewhere that would be far away.”

“I know the perfect place for you to go. The Metkayina are Reef Na’vi and live in the Eastern Seas. If you travel beyond the sea you will find them and they will allow you to seek uturu among them. The journey will be long so I will help you prepare.” Mo’at begins to help you pack as she goes into detail about the people you will meet, what you will see, and most of all what to expect when you and Lo’ak arrive at Awa'atlu.

—

After saying your goodbyes to Mo’at, exchanging words and hugs filled with love, you and Lo’ak make your way to the large tree where your ikran resides. “Hello, Hufwe.” You smile softly as you pet the creature, letting it rub its head against your skin. Once your ikran calms itself, you begin to strap your belongings along its back. “We must leave the forest and go far away.” You make Tsaheylu, connecting your queues and letting your ikran feel your emotions, hoping by making the connection, it would feel your sense of urgency about leaving.

Hufwe’s wings began to gain momentum and flap slowly, preparing itself for the journey ahead. You pick Lo’ak up and place him on the ikran’s back before jumping up and sitting behind him. Once you and Lo’ak were in a comfortable position you wrap a blanket around your bodies so you don’t get cold while flying. “Let’s go, Hufwe.” You pat the side of her neck, urging her to spread her wings and fly off into the almost nightly sky. In a blink of an eye you realize that you were soaring high in the clouds, so high that you could see the Hallelujah mountains, the place you used to reside in with your mates.

As you watch the forest grow smaller and smaller you could feel tears begin to blur your vision. You hate to leave the forest, but you know that this move is what you need to keep you and your son safe from the evils of Jake and Neytiri. Knowing that you could start a new life, have a fresh start, and give Lo’ak a better quality of life are the most important things to you right now and it makes uprooting your life worth it. Now things can get better, since you’re free from Jake and Neytiri, and maybe you'll have the chance to find someone better.

Next — Chapter Two

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[kaahgyuya]

hello! uh can i request fem!reader who is in a secret relationship with Kinich and was hanging out with the natlan girls plus lumine and paimon practically taking her attention away from kinich making him jealous. No angst just pure fluff. thank you^^

Jelly . ! (FLUFF)

. synopsis ; kinich gets jealous!

. warnings/notes ; fem!reader, Kinich might be ooc... secret relationship, he gets jealous, pet names oneshot, and reader in this might not be a liking for you! (Reqs are open, so feel free to recommend some stuff of your own!)

rahhh!!! Thank you for being one of my first requests after awhile of not posting on Tumblr! Forgive me for not posting a lot last year, but I'll be sure to post regularly. Thank you anonymous for this request! (My apologies if this is not how you like it 🙏)

REQS. are open!!! (Open until 10/3)

Kinich and you started dating around 5 months ago, and ever since then, you wanted to keep it a secret because you didn't know how to explain it to the others.

Its been 5 months though, when will you tell the others?

Besides, Kinich has offered to tell them for you, but you just felt too embarrassed to do so, so he might as well leave it be until you're comfortable. After all, you're his partner.

Lately, Kinich has noticed you haven't been paying much attention to him, so everytime whenever he can't spread his love for you, he gets a little annoyed.

"Cmon, Kinich— you're so pathetic! Stop sulking before ya'lose all of your balls!"

"Shut up, Ajaw." With a snap of his fingers, Ajaw gets sent to the sky, being sent to his timeout.

Kinich sighs as he finishes off his commission and walks off.

He finally sees you, walking to his tribe while humming softly with your hands behind your back, however, they're in public so he can't help but feel a little sting in his chest.

"Y/N." Kinich called out for you, you turned around and waved enthusiastically.

"Hi Kinich! I was just about to look for you." You say as he approaches you.

He walks beside you as you yap your mouth off to him. He wants to hold your hand so badly, he just brushes his hand against yours.

As you and Kinich make it to the top, you still talk to Kinich as he listens to you carefully.

"Is that Y/N? Y/NNN!!!" You heard an eager voice call your name, and you turn around to see Paimon, Lumine, Mualani, and Kachina.

"Huh? Oh hey guys!" You run over to them immediately leaving Kinich on his own. He couldn't help but feel that same sting clench his chest again.

"Hi Mualani! Long time no see huh?" You asked her, she eagerly agreed too as you guys had girl talk... and then there's Kinich.

Kinich noticed that recently whenever he was with you, or about to give you a small kiss, someone always had to come and interrupt you guys. Whether it'd be a friend of yours, or a stranger.

He couldn't help but just stand there for awhile and contemplate. He couldn't help but feel that stinging feeling come back.

Was he jealous? No, no, of course not. The calm and collected Kinich would never, he would never let this stupid emotion take over him right here, right now. He's much more mature than this, he would nev—

"Oh? We should visit by sometim—" you were cut off as you felt arms wrap around your waist tightly, and nuzzling their head in the crook of your neck.

"Huh?"

"Eh?"

There was a long silence.

Kinich pressed a soft kiss on your neck as he kept his head hidden in your neck.

"My love," Kinich mumbled in a low voice."

"Wait— you're dating Kinich?!" Mualani was the first to yell that out loudly as some people nearby looked at them.

Lumine covered Kachina's eyes as she asked, "wait huh? What happened?"

"SHES DATING HIM??" Paimon screeched.

"Hold on, we never knew you guys were dating! How long have you..." Mualani paused and noticed your face was bright red and completely frozen.

Kinich looked up at them and answered her question. "We've been dating for about 5 months." Kinich couldn't help but feel a little guilty after breaking his promise with you, he felt bad because his jealousy took over.

He continued to leave his head nesting in the crook of your neck.

"M'sorry, my love." Kinich mumbled in a low voice.

Paimon waved a hand in front of your face, yet you showed no response.

"I—I, uh... um." The tips of your hands felt shaky and a wave of embarrassment washed over.

"How come you never told us, Y/N?" Mualani asked with a worried smile, you were so red you looked like you had a fever.

"It— I uh, I didn't know how to say it." The redness still bloomed all over your face.

"Trust me, it's easy." Kinich said.

"wh—wait hold on!" Kachina removed Lumine's hands from her face and saw them being all cuddly and close.

"If you guys are dating for real, then kiss!" Kachina immediately blurted out then covered her mouth.

"Sorry!.." She mumbled.

"Cmon, let's go." Kinich immediately scooped you up bridal way and then took his way off.

"Kinich— put me down!" You tried tackling him off but he didn't bother as he still walked off.

Mualani and the others heard you from a distance as you guys got more and more faint.

"Kachina, let's talk about this later." Mualani says with a somewhat concerned smile.

"What just happened?" Lumine and paimon ask.

"Dunno, but I can't help but feel happy for them. At the same time, a little upset because they never told us." Mualani said while putting a hand on her hip.

"Wanna take a bet on who confessed first?" Lumine asked while chuckling.

"I bet Y/N!" Kachina said.

"No way, I think Kinich." Mualani immediately said.

Kinich and you are both somewhere secluded as he put you on top of some boxes.

"M'sorry." Kinich immediately leaned his head on your chest and huffed.

You can suddenly hear the guilt in his voice.

"I was.." He paused.

"I was jealous because lately you haven't been paying much attention to me, so it built up over time and..." He paused again.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." Kinich mumbled as he hugged you tightly again.

"It's fine. I was planning to tell them soon anyways, but the way you did it was so embarrassing." You grumbled.

"Mind if I do it differently then?"

"What do you mean?" You asked.

"What if I just kissed you in front of them instead?" He chuckled while lifting his head up to look at you.

"No!"

@kaahgyuya 9/30/24 6:50 pm

A/n : sorry if there's any sloppy writing or anything like that, I hope you enjoyed reading though! <3

[dearhargrove]

Sink or swim

summary When the tsunami hits you're at the pier, watching in confusion and shock as the huge wave nears. You're swept away with a dozen others but gain back consciousness with a weirdly attractive guy and his.. son?

tags medical inaccuracy (I made everything medical up pls ignore it), blood and injuries, one POV change, cursing

word count 2831

a/n just watched the episodes with the tsunami and oh my god? I’m so in love with Buck, Chris and Eddie. These three are adorable. Also these episodes were just good as hell, wtf? Andddd I hope I didn’t make any of them OOC (out of character) but if I did forgive me yall 🫶🏻 also English isn’t my first language, so… 🥹

masterlist

Maybe you should've guessed what it meant when the sea started retreating and a huge wave built up more by the second. But somehow it seemed so surreal that you didn't. You clung to the thought that it was an optical illusion, after all there was no way a tsunami would hit that one time you're at the pier.

Now moments later you regret not running faster, earlier or simply finding a spot to hide. You're pulled under the surface every few seconds, swallowing mouthfuls of salty seawater that makes your nose burn and eyes blur.

You're choking when you're swept against a hard object, it's sharp edge digging into your waist. “Fuck!” you curse, though it ends in a gurgle when more water sweeps over you.

When you resurface you're facing an object that turns out to be a sunken fire truck. The red is striking against the blue and Grey around you and you could cry at relief when you manage to hoist yourself onto it.

You're exhausted, your side hurts and you're dizzy. Your phone is useless, the water having destroyed the technology. Cursing, you pocket it again and lean back. You're about to relax, aware that it could take hours for emergency services to reach you when you hear high pitched screaming. You look up, just in time to see someone with a yellow sweater being pulled towards you with the current, screaming at the top of their lungs.

“Jesus,” you swear and crawl to the edge of the truck, yelling to get their attention with your arm reached out as far as possible.

You almost faint when the person turns around and a small child looks at you, red glasses full of water and messy brown hair. He's crying, reaching out as he's struggling to stay afloat.

“Hey! I'm here, grab my hand!” You yell and lean over the ledge as far as you could. As soon as you saw that little boy you knew you'd jump after him if he couldn't grab your hand now.

“I got you, sweetheart, come on!”

Your assurance seems to help and he kicks his legs, managing to move closer to where you are. In a split second you grab his hand and pull him over the railing and onto the truck, holding the little boy close to your chest in relief.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, coughing a little as he adjusts his glasses. You try to look as calm and collected as possible, gently smiling at him and beckoning him further away from the railing and rushing water.

“Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” He shakes his head, biting his lip as he looks out at the water again. He must've been with someone else, you guess when he sits up at every piece floating by.

“Are you looking for someone?” You ask gently and he nods. He slowly speaks, hands fidgeting in his lap, “B-Buck. He's a firefighter.”

You stop yourself from cooing at this adorable child and nod, “We're gonna find him, okay? Just stay here and it'll be okay.”

He looks worried but slowly nods. You go back to sitting between him and the railing, looking out for anyone else.

Just as you spot someone, the small boy moves rapidly and pulls your shirt, “Buck! It's Buck!” He stutters loudly.

You whip your head back around to the rushing water and try thinking of a way to save him too. You couldn't just grab his hand, he would probably just pull you off the truck and you wouldn't risk leaving the kid by himself.

“Shit,” You mumble as you look for a way to help the man, the boy desperately crying out for ‘Buck’ behind you.

It seems you don't need to do much when something slams into the truck and seconds later the man pulls himself up and next to you.

And, damn. He was attractive. His dark blonde curls stick to his forehead as his blue eyes fixate on you and then the boy, strong arms holding him up as a smile builds on his lips, “Christopher!”

You move a bit as the two reunite, the boy- Christopher throwing his arms around the man's neck and giggling wildly.

You watch with a smile, the adorable sight momentarily distracting you from the tsunami keeping not just you but these two strangers trapped on top of a fire truck.

He turns around after a minute, keeping Christopher in his lap as he looks at you. He clears his throat and nods, “Thank you for saving him.” You shake your head and wave your hand in dismissal, unsure how to deal with compliments.

“No, really. I was going crazy when I couldn't find him,” his eyes are fixed on your face and you blame the heat creeping up your neck onto the temperature changes from the water and sun, smiling nervously. “It's all good. Your son is a sweetheart.”

He chuckles, “He definitely is. Though he's not my son,” he mentions, poking the boy's side when he mumbles something. You quickly nod, embarrassed. “Sorry, I shouldn't have assumed-” he shakes his head and a relaxed smile sets on his face.

“It's fine, don't worry. Did you have any luck reaching 911?” You shake your head and hold up your broken phone, screen flickering sadly as you do. He sighs and brushes a hand through his hair (you try not to stare at the hot sight because wow, what are the odds of meeting such an attractive man in the middle of a tsunami?).

“We're probably just gonna have to wait. It'll take time to get boats and units here. It probably looks like this everywhere,” he explains and you tilt your head in surprise before remembering that the kid had mentioned he's a firefighter. Meaning he knew the protocols.

“Right. Christopher mentioned you're a firefighter.” You smile when the boy perks up, a seemingly never faltering smile on his face. “Guess I'm lucky to be stuck with you. Safest I could be.” You shrug, a bashful smile on your face.

“Buck will s-save us all,” Christopher proclaims proudly and you coo at the cute boy. The man now seems a bit uneasy and sighs before his eyes widen, “Shit, right, I'm Evan. Everyone just calls me Buck, though.” You shake his outstretched hand and introduce yourself in turn, biting your lip as a nervous habit.

“So you're a firefighter?” You prompt curiously.

“It's a bit complicated right now…” He sighs, a frown setting on his forehead. You're about to apologize for overstepping when Christopher speaks up again, “He threw up blood.”

Your eyes widen and Evan- Buck pinches the boys’ side in reprimand. “Blood clots,” he elaborates as he looks at your slightly shocked expression. You hum sympathetically before realizing something. “Wait. You were the one trapped under that fire truck? On the news?”

He chuckles (which makes him even more attractive, what the actual fuck?) and nods, “Yep, that's me.”

You grimace in sympathy at the memory and automatically glance at his leg, “Is it all healed? You don't have to talk about it, it's fine if you don't-” he waves you off assuringly, looking relaxed.

“It's fine, don't worry. Yeah it healed fine, had some physical therapy and stuff but now I have blood clots kicking my a- butt.” He stops himself from cursing with Christopher on his lap and you almost smile at the adorable expression of confusion on the kid's face, when Buck presses his hands over both of his ears and whispers what he was originally going to say.

You laugh at the two and a relaxed and almost light atmosphere surrounds the three of you, momentarily disregarding your situation.

“It's kind of ironic isn't it?” He starts and you tilt your head in question. “You saved me, a firefighter, by pulling me onto a fire truck,” he elaborates and you can't help but chuckle, “Right. It should've been the other way around,” you sarcastically add and he holds up his hands in mock surrender.

You relax back against the railing, your eyes drawn to Buck again just to notice him already looking at you. You cock your head questioningly and he bites his lip before grinning, “Sorry, you're just- like, really beautiful.”

Your jaw drops momentarily before you compose yourself and hide behind your hands, “Stop! Geez,” you laugh and he does as well. You exaggerate a shake of your head as you look at Christopher who giggles happily and exclaims, “He likes you!”

Now both you and Buck fluster as he continues, “He's always angry but n-now he's happy.” You notice the small struggle of getting his words out but you couldn't care less, you'd wait hours for this sweetheart to finish a sentence if you had to.

“Oh, really?” You ask in mock surprise and he eagerly nods before Buck intervenes, “Woah, Woah. I'm not always angry. Just.. grumpy.” Christopher makes it a point to look at him and then at you, rolling his eyes and shaking his head which makes it hard to refrain from laughing.

When Christopher busies himself with leaves floating around them Buck lowers his voice a bit as he speaks to you again, “Don't get the wrong impression it’s just, it’s hard. Not being able to work, saving people and all that.”

You nod quickly, “No worries. I’d go insane if I was in your place. I’m guessing they’re keeping you from really doing anything ‘dangerous’?” You ask, careful in case of him wanting to change the subject.

He nods and drops his head back against a siren light, “It is. They’re trying to put me behind a desk! I mean, I’m supposed to be out here, saving lives, fighting fires. That’s my purpose.” He frowns and you hum to show that you’re listening.

“I know they just want me to recover, but…”

“It feels like they’re holding you back?” You finish for him. He chuckles in surprise at the accuracy of what you said and nods.

“I’m probably in no place to tell you this, but trust me, it’s worth it. Get better, do the light work and sooner than you think you’ll be back doing what you love. But if you start now and ignore your health.. it’s going to catch up with you. And it’ll be way worse than a few weeks behind a desk.”

He looks thoughtful for a moment before slowly nodding, “You're right. Thank you.” You smile and put a hand on his leg, making sure he doesn’t mind before adding, “I mean look at you, crushed by an entire ladder truck and you’re up and running already.”

“I’m just that great,” he sarcastically pats his own shoulder and you both break into laughter.

-

You don't know if it's been minutes, seconds or hours when you wake up, laying on top of destroyed concession stands and other things. Something is digging into your back, your leg is awkwardly bent and your ears are ringing.

Groaning you sit up, wincing in pain when a sharp pain strikes through your back at the movement.

Around you is just more trash and destroyed cars, you see an arm laying on one of the cars and decide to avert your eyes as quick as possible for your own sake.

Every step hurts but you keep going; walking through the flooded streets with your eyes looking for either of the two boys you’d spent earlier with or other survivors.

The sun is starting to set and you’re starting to get hopeless. You have no clue where you were, completely disoriented as you pass houses that look entirely the same. Your phone is useless and you’re alone. Shouldn’t you have met at least one person by now?

Your back has gone practically numb, same as your leg, when you see faraway lights in the distance. Your steps get quicker as you see people and to your utter relief firefighters. You don’t know if the tears in your eyes are of joy or utter despair from what happened but you couldn’t care less when a man with short, brown hair spots you and approaches.

You’re trying to walk closer when a small voice somewhere close stops you. You’re not sure if it’s your imagination but you turn around, squinting your eyes in the darkness. And then you see it. A small boy, waddling your way with his arms stretched out like he couldn’t see.

Could it be..?

“Christopher?” You see his head perk up and he tries going faster, stumbling over his own feet. Your heart drops in relief and you gather your last strength to run to him, “Hey, you remember me right?” He nods and you note the missing glasses.

“There’s help, come on,” you point out but he doesn’t look happy. He looks almost angry, “Buck.” You had almost forgotten about the charming firefighter. But your priority right now was Christopher.

“We’re gonna find him. Let’s get you help first,” you say with fake enthusiasm in your voice. He doesn’t look okay with that but stays silent and you awkwardly wrap your arms around him after making sure he’s okay and lift him into your arms.

It’s hard to avoid any obstacles while walking but you manage, seeing the brown haired man from a few minutes ago still there.

“Hey! I need help! It’s a kid!” You yell.

He waves you over while walking towards you and as soon as you can actually see him you’re once again surprised. What was it with these firefighters and their good looks? Jesus.

When he’s close enough you nudge Christopher, “There’s help, he’s gonna make sure you’re okay,” you nod at the man and he stands still before running the last feet over to you, basically ripping the child from you.

“Chris!” He cries, clutching the kid with all his might. Oh, this must be his father.

You smile, relieved that they found each other. He looks up at you with gratitude, “Thank you so much. Thank you.” You just smile.

“He’s found us himself. I couldn’t find him after..” you don’t even know what happened- you just know you passed out and woke up alone. Sighing you rub your temples and shake your head.

“You should get checked out, too. You’re barely walking,” the medic (you guess) advises. You take in the people behind him, the full cots and stressed professionals. “I’m okay. There’s people that need more help,” you nod.

He frowns and shakes his head, “I could tell you at least two injuries of yours that need treatment. Come on.” He nods his head in the direction of one of the tents and you chuckle but follow him. At least you try to. Four more steps and your legs give out, you clutch a random person's arm to prevent your fall, mumbling a sorry when they just barely catch you.

The ringing in your ears is back and you groan when you’re laid on one of the cots, your back protesting painfully.

Your vision is blurry and you can’t understand what’s being said - what the hell was happening to you?

-

“Wait, she’s- she was with me and Chris.” Eddie looks up in confusion as he hooks you up to an IV, checking your pupils with a small torch. “What?”

Buck nods, “Yeah, she saved Chris and then me. When the last wave happened she was swept away- we were all swept away.”

Eddies brows furrow and she looks down at you, your hair a damp mess, clothes dirty and bloody. “She saved Chris?” His best friend nods and crouches down next to you - Eddie notes the pained groan he tries to conceal as he does so - extending a hand and awkwardly patting your shoulder.

“Will she be okay?”

Eddie's answer is interrupted when you open your eyes and wince at the lights surrounding the tent.

“Hey, you feeling okay?” Buck asks before Eddie can get a word out, and you almost faint again seeing these two fine men looking down at you with concern. Great first impression, you think.

“Feel like I was in a tsunami,” you grunt and both of them laugh a bit. A third voice pops up next to you, “We were in one, silly.” Leaning over your head and looking upside down at you was Christopher, a smile on his face.

You huff a laugh and hum, “You’re right. Smart boy.”

Eddie looks at Buck at the exchange and he just shrugs with a grin. Chris walks to Eddie and leans into his side, eyes still on you.

“Is there something on my face, or..?” You ask half joking as three pairs of eyes stay trained on you.

“Just beauty,” Buck grins and there’s a second of silence before Eddie gags and rolls his eyes, “That’s so creepy, díos.” You laugh as Buck tries defending himself, simply looking just as cute to you as earlier.

[kfaem]

play video games with the LADS

i feel bad for not writing more for xavier but i honestly dont know how to write his character all too well

also i did go a bit heavier with sylus lol, sorry about that

also warning for cursing and probably ooc for xav and raf, im a sylus and zayne girly so i focused more on them lol

Zayne

I feel like our doctor would lowkey love farming/life sims like Harvest Moon, Stardew Valley, etc. cause he'd like the mundane grind of it all.

you'd introduce him to Stardew and leave for like 3 hours to do some errands and whatnot and when you return his farm is like fully functional and he's already rich.

when you ask how in the ever loving shit he got so far he said he just played the game as he saw fit. which also includes him doing the tasks on the board at Pierre's.

now whenever you both have free time, you two sit down and play a game together, enjoying the calm that it gives while making Zayne feel like he isn't doing nothing.

Sylus

i feel like he'd enjoy fps games?? but like, not accurate ones, yk, he wants to play a fps that has magic and shit in it.

he wouldn't play alone since he gets bored too fast, he needs you there with him.

dies "accidentally" so you have to revive him every few minutes, he'll sigh, leaning back on the sofa before looking at you, who is absolutely glaring at him for dying for the third time in a ten minute period.

whenever you visit, you two have a habit of sitting down and playing together, cuddled together with the lights dimmed and some snacks and beverages of choice (hot chocolate, tea, coffee, maybe some alcohol wanted)

he acts like he doesnt enjoy it all that much, but it really is some of his favourite times spent with you.

also, the twins have interrupted you guys a few times. they're pretty wicked at whatever games you guys end up playing too lol (pico park with sy and the twins? ultimate rage, the angriest you've ever been)

Xavier

isn't it canon that he's really good at video games? i could see him joining you in games like powerwash sim, a little to the left, or crime scene cleaner.

he'd probably want to play something thats more gameplay heavy (i've never played but i could see him playing the zelda games) but he honestly just wants to be close to you so anythings fine

the slower games dont keep him as well energized so be ready to nudge him awake when you two are in the middle of a powerwash sim map.

Rafayel

house flipper, unpacking, dress to impress

anything that includes fashion/design he is so fucking in dude, gets actually invested in dti and hates playing in most of the lobbies since those kids dont know how to vote for REAL fashion

at some point he kinda tunes you out and gets really invested in what game hes playing. its not that he doesnt want to pay attention to you, he just really wants to do his absolute best and if he focuses too heavy on what you're talking about (ie. shit talking the children in the lobby who are not sticking to theme)

after hes done with the task he zones in on, his attention is fully back on you and you guys will collectively bash the others who arent on theme

he calls it a bonding moment between you two

when one or both of you make it on the podium, he gets excited beyond comprehension lol

[rustygem]

hi do you take requests?

if you dont, feel free to ignore, but if you do..

imagine dr ratio having a wife/husband(reader), or lover whatever. they've been married for a long whike now on a really healthy relationship. reader is a opposite to ratio, a calm collected individual who doesn't lash out

but what happens when ratio became so stubborn the reader snaps and calls dr ratio by his full name? especially in front of people?

kinda want to know your perspective and jow you write this

(i love ut writing :3 its still okay to ignore though)

彡prompt: you love dr. ratio, you do. but sometimes he can irritate the shit out of you.

彡warning(s): swearing. sorta angsty, but it’s somehow fluff. probably ooc! ratio?

彡notes: dividers by cafekitsune.

Y’know, usually date nights with a loving partner are supposed to go well. And yours with Veritas did, but only until you two started having a back and forth on paying the tip.

“Veritas, please. It’s only 100 credits.” You pinched your temple. Seriously, the waitress was nice! She wasn’t too pushy, there wasn’t any attitude. One small tip wouldn’t hurt.

“What is there to tip the woman for? For doing her job right?” He crossed his legs. “Darling, you must understand that a waitress who isn’t unbearably contemptible isn’t one deserving of a tip.”

“For fucks sake…she’s gonna come over here in less than five minutes. If you don’t want to pay her, I will.” As soon as you took out your wallet, Veritas just shook his head.

You were endearing and your emotional intelligence was admirable. But for goodness sakes, you seemed just a little too insistent on spending extra credits for somebody just doing their job.

As if it was right on cue, you gave the waitress the bill, along with a 100 credit tip with a smile.

It wasn’t until you stopped the waitress from leaving to give her another 50 credits that Veritas just huffed and snatched the money out of your hands.

“Okay, that’s enough. She doesn’t need anymore money than you gave her.” He put your credits in his wallet, glaring at you. “Don’t be so careless with your credits.”

The nervous waitress looked at him, then at you. Her nerves only increased as she saw your eye twitch.

You raised your voice. “Veritas Ratio, quit being prudish and give her the credits!”

It wasn’t the yelling that made him recoil, it was the anger in your tone and voice. Frustration wasn’t new, but you were actually mad at him.

Noticing the eyes on you, your boyfriend, and the poor…poor waitress, your anger subsided.

“Uh…Please. Please give her the credits.” You spoke softly now, mumbling a softer ‘thanks’ as he handed her the money.

However, the waitress took a deep breath, and spoke up. “I can assure you 100 credits is more than enough for me. But thank you.” The waitress smiled at you and walked off with the check.

You picked at your nails, lip quivering as you thought about what you should say to your boyfriend—who was several steps ahead of you.

Noticing this, he looked at you as he continued walking. “If you feel guilt–ridden because you think you’ve hurt my feelings, then banish the thought immediately.”

You rushed next to him, looking at him with lingering feelings of doubt and regret. “Yeah well, I’m sorry for yelling at you and making a scene.”

God, what’s wrong with me? You thought to yourself.

He frowned, watching tears brim your eyelashes. “It’s not like you weren’t provoked.” He sighed before continuing.

“But, in all honesty sweetheart, I thought you were being too benevolent like always.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you stared at your shoes.

“Though, your attempt at trying to put me in my place made me reconsider something.” He stopped, eyeing you.

“I considered you to be someone who’s too kind for their own good. That was one of the things I wanted you to work on.”

And you swear you saw him smile for a second. “But, you’re still capable of standing your ground, so perhaps I misjudged. Apologies.”

Embarrassed, you scratched your cheek. “That’s sweet of you, Ver–ow!”

He pinched your cheek with his fingertips. “Though, the next time you want to raise your voice at me, I’d prefer you do it in a more private setting.”

[akutasoda]

i would like to request a luocha, jing yuan, and sunday with a reader that’s the complete opposite of them, like opposites attract sakndmalsow i love luocha :3 hope ur having a nice day ^_^

attraction on the contrary

synopsis - how are they with someone who is a complete opposite

includes - jing yuan, luocha, sunday

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, maybe ooc, wc - 621

a/n: anon you're so real for loving luocha. i hope you're having a nice day/night aswell!!

jing yuan ★↷

↪jing yuan was often found dozing off anywhere, seemingly having zero energy to get through the day. yet you seemed to be absolutely full of energy that appeared to never wain even in the slightest throughout the day.

↪you'd could be observed dragging the tired general throughout the luofu in search of whatever you wanted to do. he never complained and always obliged with a dumb smile on his face.

↪ it was known that he was often meticulous and often foreplanning, however you were much more careless and impulsive. but he enjoyed how spontaneous you were, it added a certain excitement to his life which he welcomed.

↪those that often gossiped about the love lives on the luofu, often speculated about the generals choice in partner but barely any of them could think that you would be the one that stole his heart. yet somehow you balanced each other out perfectly.

↪perhaps it was best that the general found someone who was his polar opposite, maybe it was like you two were the missing pieces of the others life.

luocha ★↷

↪the reserved and seemingly always calm traveling merchant had always kept his relations with others to a limit. he'd always move places often and so they seemed rather pointless unless it was a relationship more tailored to the business side of his life.

↪however, he didn't anticipate building a relationship with you. someone who was practically the complete opposite to everything about him. yet now that he knew you, he couldn't imagine ever splitting ways with you ever.

↪you were extremely sentimental and he always helped you collect trinkets from each place you two visited. you were much more open about things in your life whereas luocha often kept tight-lipped about himself, unless it was to you.

↪he actually found that your more natural outgoing nature attracted quite a bit more customers who became more intrigued in the two of you than the merchant's actual gig.

↪you added a much more enjoyable side to traveling throughout the cosmos, he realized now that traveling alongside someone was a great idea. although maybe that was because it was you.

sunday ★↷

↪the head of the oak family was very well known for being rather particulate. he preferred things a certain way and had the tendency to be a tad controlling. he held his image high and was intent on keeping it like that.

↪yet there was you, someone who wasn't particular and could be quite spontaneous. you were much more openly expressive than your more reserved lover. dignity belonged to both of you, but you were more willing to indulge yourself.

↪your naivety would've annoyed him, yet sometimes he found it rather adorable. however if someone dare try to take advantage of it, then he wouldn't mind pulling a few strings and all of a sudden nobody saw them again.

↪sunday didn't exactly imagine that he'd let himself allow someone like you into his life, yet here you were. you two had such different public images yet worked so well together that it practically seemed impossible.

↪if it were anyone else, he'd be annoyed at all the things that made you the complete opposite of him. but it wasn't anyone else, it was you. you were practically the opposite of him and yet he couldn't help but find himself in love with every part of you.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

[creamflix]

biker boyfriend! veritas ratio x gn/m/f reader; suggestive content, reader has a lip & tongue piercing, established relationship, modern/biker au, ooc ratio (he's very colloquial, sorry~), lots of making out (on a bike!!) – masterlist here ☆～（ゝ。∂）

you’re spread out on his bike, your back pressed against the cool metal as ratio leans over you, his gloved hands gently gripping your chin. with the way he’s staring down at you with those sharp eyes of his, it feels like he’s seeing through you, analyzing every detail.

his fingers brush against your lip piercing, a soft hum of curiosity escaping him. “fascinating,” he murmurs, voice low and thoughtful, like he’s studying some rare specimen. his thumb traces the metal with precision, like he’s trying to figure out the mechanics behind it. he’s always been like this — completely captivated by the things that interest him, even when it comes to your body. especially when it comes to your body.

you can’t help the soft gasp that slips out when his finger presses a little harder, the sensation sending a tingle through your lips. “ratio…”

he doesn’t pull back, not yet. his eyes flicker to meet yours for just a moment before they drop back to your mouth. “does it hurt? or is it more… stimulating?” his voice is calm, collected — typical of him — but there’s a certain tension behind it, like he’s holding something back.

you shake your head, feeling your pulse quicken. “it’s… it’s sensitive.”

he hums again, fingers leaving your lip to trail down to your chin, tilting your head just enough to keep you completely in his line of sight. “stick out your tongue,” he says, tone still so calm, so composed. it’s like he’s asking for a scientific demonstration, like he needs to see how this particular modification works.

you do as he says, sticking out your tongue, the metal of your piercing catching the light. his eyes lock onto it instantly, his breath hitching just slightly — barely noticeable, but you catch it.

his thumb comes to rest just beneath your tongue, pushing it up a little to get a closer look, the cool leather of his glove brushing against the sensitive skin. “interesting design…” he mumbles to himself, but there’s a slight crack in his voice. you notice the way his hand trembles just the tiniest bit as his eyes stay glued to your tongue, the piercing glinting against his touch.

“ratio, are you —” you start, but his other hand clamps down gently on your thigh, effectively silencing you.

“rationally speaking,” he interrupts, his tone still trying to hold onto that calm, intellectual edge, “this shouldn’t be… so enticing.” but the way his eyes darken, the way his grip tightens on your thigh — it betrays him.

you watch as his focus shifts from the piercing itself to the way your tongue moves, the way it glides over the metal when you pull it back into your mouth just slightly, before sticking it out again, teasing. you can see the way his pupils dilate, the subtle twitch in his jaw, the slight unevenness in his breathing.

“fuck…” he mutters under his breath, his composure slipping just a little more. he’s so used to being in control, so used to being above his own desires, but now, staring at you like this, it’s different. he can’t help it. his gloved thumb presses down on your lower lip again, tugging it down, exposing the glint of your lip piercing once more.

“this… this shouldn’t be happening,” he says, but his voice has lost that clinical tone completely. it’s raw now, breathless. “i’m… getting turned on by a simple piercing… how irrational.”

you smirk up at him, feeling a spark of heat rush through your body at the way he’s losing himself. “you sure about that?” you tease, your voice a little hoarse, your tongue sliding against the piercing again just to watch him squirm.

his eyes snap back up to yours, and for a moment, he looks like he’s about to say something, but instead, he lets out a shaky breath. “you’re… making this hard for me,” he admits, the frustration in his voice thick, laced with something much darker.

and then, he’s leaning down, lips inches from yours, his hand slipping down to your waist, pulling your hips closer to his body. “let me… indulge in this just once…”

his body is pressed so firmly against yours, the hard, cold metal of the bike digging into your back, but it only makes everything feel hotter, the heat radiating off of him in waves. ratio’s hands grip your waist, fingers tightening as he pulls you flush against him, his bike rocking slightly with the weight of you both. the hum of the engine beneath you is faint now, but the vibrations add another layer to the tension simmering between you.

he leans down, eyes still focused on your lips, his thumb brushing over your lip piercing again. “this…” his voice is low, almost reverent. “i can’t stop thinking about it.”

before you can even respond, his lips are on yours, crashing into you with an intensity that takes your breath away. it’s rough, unrelenting, his usual calm completely shattered as he kisses you like he’s starved for it. your lip piercing grinds against his mouth, and he groans, low and deep, a sound that sends shivers straight through you. the metal between you adds a sharp, biting edge to the kiss, and you feel his body tense against yours.

his tongue flicks over your bottom lip, teasing the metal again, and you can’t help but moan softly into his mouth. he presses you harder into the bike, the frame rattling beneath the weight of his need, the low rumble of the engine vibrating through your body. it’s grounding, pulling you both deeper into the moment, his lips working furiously against yours, messy and desperate.

“fuck…” he breathes against your mouth, his gloved hand sliding up your thigh, gripping tightly as he holds you in place. “this isn’t… just about the piercing anymore.”

his words are a rough whisper, but the way his lips press back against yours tells you everything you need to know. his usual control is nowhere to be found, replaced by something primal as his kisses grow hungrier, sloppier. his tongue brushes over yours, catching the metal of your tongue piercing, and he groans again, his body jolting slightly against the bike.

“stick it out again,” he mutters, pulling back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and intense. “let me see it.”

you comply, sticking your tongue out, the piercing glinting under the dim light of the garage. his breath hitches, and for a moment, he’s just staring, like he’s trying to make sense of the way something so simple has him unraveling. “i don’t know why this is getting me so worked up,” he admits, voice thick with frustration, but his fingers trace your lips again, as if he can’t help himself.

then he’s kissing you again, rougher this time, like he’s fighting to keep his composure but losing miserably. his hand moves from your waist to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer, as if the space between you is unbearable. the bike creaks beneath you both, metal groaning under the strain, but you don’t care. all you can focus on is the way he’s kissing you, the heat of his lips, the way his tongue rolls against yours, teasing your piercing again and again.

his body presses harder into yours, the engine’s vibrations now almost maddening as it buzzes beneath you. “i’m supposed to be… in control,” he mutters against your lips, his voice strained. “but you’re making me lose it.”

you smirk, pulling back slightly, breathless as you tease, “maybe you’re just not as composed as you think.”

that earns a sharp inhale from him, and his eyes flash with something darker, more intense. without another word, his lips are back on yours, his hands gripping your thighs now, lifting you slightly as he pins you harder against the bike. his mouth moves with fervor, consuming you, the cool metal of the bike against your skin making everything feel sharper, hotter.

“you’re dangerous,” he growls against your lips, his breath heavy as he pulls you even closer, the bike shifting beneath the weight of his need.

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