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drunkinyourbenz · 9 days ago

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IF YOU'RE GONNA LIE, DO IT IN MY BED

☆ SYNOPSIS: billie kept lying to your face, but when she looked at you like that, you didn't really have it in you to care. you did, however, have it in you to push her further by being a brat. ☆ PART TWO ☆ RELATIONSHIP: dom!billie eilish x fem!bratty!reader ☆ WARNINGS: SMUT, mean billie (oops), reader is a tiny bit pathetic, bratty reader, situationship/fwb, angry sex (kind of?), crying, established safe word (not used), strap-on, oral on a strap-on, deepthroating, gagging, oral, overstimulation, squirting, degradation, praise, petnames (pretty girl, baby, ma, etc.) name calling (slut, whore, brat, etc.), choking, hair pulling, humiliation, dumbification, billie is so condescending in this, toxic dynamic. ☆ NOTE: sorry babes i've been totally off the grid, writing this when i should be studying calculus lmao!! this is long as hell i'm so sorry i got carried away 😭 title from the song ‘guess we lied…’ by fletcher. this is oxytocin billie at her finest btw!! also situationship/fwb billie has me in a chokehold !! also i'm on my period rn lmaooo ☆ WORD COUNT: 4.8k words

you’d been in a friends with benefits situation with billie for roughly the past four months, but you’d known each other for far longer. billie was too busy for a proper relationship, so the past four months had been all hotel rendezvous and stolen kisses, but no real commitment.

billie would always fuck you better than anyone else could, and you'd be left alone in a cold and empty bed the next morning. she knew how to treat a girl, that was for sure, she was just emotionally unavailable. she needed someone who didn’t need her to actually be present in their life, just there for a good time when she felt like it.

of course, that was where you came in—you and the countless other girls she had wrapped around her finger. there had been many girls throughout the years, but rumour had it, most of them were gone after less than a month. that knowledge gave you an addictive feeling of importance, something that kept you coming back for more. you might mean nothing to her, but you meant more than the others did.

you’d planned to meet up today, but billie was late—of course she was.

she’d been at a party—of course she had.

chances were, she’d been out fucking one of the many other girls she had totally entrapped in her siren-like charm—she told you that you were her favourite, but you weren’t sure you believed her. she probably told every single girl she fucked that, she just happened to keep you around for longer than most.

so she stumbled into the hotel room she’d told you to meet her in, forty five minutes late, a resting frown on her face as she kicked off her shoes upon entering the room. you look up from where you sat on the bed scrolling your phone, raising an eyebrow.

“late again, where were you?” your voice didn’t sound accusatory, simply curious, but you were accusing her of something, and she knew it.

she shrugged casually, her face still set in that slight scowl. “a party, it’s not important.”

she was clearly in a bad mood, but you didn’t really have it in you to care. her bad mood was no excuse to leave you hanging for almost an hour. you laughed dryly. “next time, just cancel. i don’t care if you don’t want to see me, that’s fine. just don’t leave me waiting here for you to show up.”

billie rolls her eyes slightly, through her eyes, it genuinely didn’t matter, and it was irrational for you to be this annoyed. the two of you weren’t dating, she did this with so many other girls, you weren’t special. “god, you’re so dramatic. it was just a party, it’s not a big deal.”

you let out a soft scoff, “i don’t care that it was a party. just let me know next time so that i don’t sit alone in an empty hotel room for almost an hour looking like an absolute loser.”

“i meant to get here on time.”

“don’t lie to me, i know that if you mean to do something, you do it.” which was true. if billie actually wanted to do something, she found a way to do it.

billie raises an eyebrow, “you’re being a brat.”

you bite back another scoff, but can’t stop yourself from snapping back at her. “and you’re being a bitch.”

something seemed to change in billie’s eyes then, one of her eyebrows raising as she took a few steps towards you. you almost instinctively took a step back, a reminder of the control she had over you even when you were trying to be mad at her.

her eyes were a fraction darker than they had been before, her sharp blue eyes fixated on you as she kept waking forward, backing you towards the hotel bed without even touching you—that was the power she held over you.

“i’m being a bitch? hm, interesting. you don’t look like you think i’m a bitch, you look like you want me to fuck you.” her voice was smooth and level, but there was a sort of harsh bite to it, a warning, foreshadowing for what was to come.

you couldn’t even deny it, not really. you wanted to deny it, but she was right. you did want her to fuck you, despite how little she clearly cared about your feelings right now.

she took a step closer again, and you felt the back of your knees hit the mattress—you hadn’t even been aware of stepping that far back. she watched you closely, a calculating look in her eyes.

“so? you gonna say it, or what? i know you waited around for a reason.”

again, she was right. why else you have waited around for almost forty five minutes? no one fucked you like she did, and you could tell she knew it, from the smug smirk that always painted her lips when she was fucking into you with her strap. god, she could be so cocky sometimes, the knowledge that she was so incredibly hot was a little too powerful for her.

when you thought about it, it was kind of pathetic that you’d actually waited around for forty five minutes. like, who does that? why had you sat alone in the hotel room, waiting for her in the silence? why hadn’t you walked out after twenty minutes and gone to the party where your friends were probably drunk off their faces—the party that you had skipped because you already had plans. plans with billie.

you’d waited around for forty five minutes, and you knew full well that you weren’t going to get her to have a mature conversation. so, you concluded, you might as well make the wait worth it, and let her fuck you. and if you were going to get fucked, it might as well be good.

so, when you spoke, you kept the slightly snarky tone. “obviously, why else would i have waited around for so long?”

she saw the bratty look in your eyes, and her eyes darkened further. she clearly wasn’t in a great mood, and needed a way to blow off steam—your brattiness was giving her exactly that, an outlet. she huffed, grabbing your jaw tighter as she stared at you. she pushed you so you fell onto your back on the bed, landing with a slight impact on the soft mattress. she crawled on top of you so she was straddling your hips, one of her hands coming to wrap around your neck, pressing down to give you just the right amount of pressure. it was a warning, but you weren’t at all worried.

“watch your fuckin’ tone, ma. and don’t look at me like that. you’re a brat today, aren’t you?”

you caught the slight sparkle in her eye in reaction to your attitude, which just pushed you further. she was enjoying this, seeing you act up. you kept the same tone to your voice, looking up into her eyes as her ring-clad hand pressed down on your neck.

“well, i think i deserve to be a brat, after being left hanging for almost an hour.”

she pressed down slightly harder on your neck, her nails digging into your skin slightly and her eyes narrowing as she held your eye contact.

“is that really how you want to play this? don’t act like you didn’t wait around here like an obedient little slut for that whole hour.”

you could’ve sworn you felt your brain falter as her words went straight to your core, because when she talked like that, you always melted a little bit inside. you couldn’t find any quick smartass comeback this time, but you didn’t want to look even more pathetic by fumbling for a response you weren’t going to find, so you simply rolled your eyes.

at your eye roll, she pressed her lips together slightly, “where’s the good girl i normally get to fuck? hmm?” she said those words as if your bratty attitude is somehow displeasing to her, but you knew for a fact that it was the opposite. she loved when you were like this, it gave her an excuse to be rougher, meaner.

“guess i’ll just have to remind you how to behave, won’t i?”

the hand on your neck snaked around to the back of your head, where she took a fistful of your hair in her hand and tugged roughly at it, sending a stinging sensation to your scalp. she used the hand she was pulling your hair with to angle your face upwards, so you were looking right up into her eyes. you held the eye contact, an almost challenging look in your eyes as you spoke again.

“maybe you should. might wanna hurry up with it, though. getting bored here.” that was a blatant lie, you were not bored, and you could listen to her degrade you like you were her slut for hours, but you wanted to push her. you wanted her to be unable to resist fucking you hard. no matter how good the other girls she’d fucked at the party were, you would be better, and you were sure of it. you had to stand out somehow.

your words did indeed have the intended effect on billie, and she let out a scoff, giving your hair another harsh tug as a reminder that she was in charge.

“watch that fuckin’ mouth, sweetheart. it looks better when it’s being put to use.”

that, of course, was the perfect opening for another bratty remark, and you were too deep in to resist winding her up now. “well, i don’t see you putting it to use, do i?”

and… that was it. you could practically see something in the wiring of her brain change as she snapped. “that’s it,” she breathed out, her grip on your hair tightening as she climbed off you, pulling you off the bed and pushing you to your knees on the floor in front of her in an instant.

“you really can’t learn to shut your pretty little mouth, can you? you know, you’re a lot prettier when you shut up.”

she was unbuttoning her pants as she spoke, and you could see the bulge of her strap-on underneath the clothes. within moments, her pants were discarded on the floor, revealing her signature long red strap. for how long she’d spent on the back and forth teasing, she sure seemed to be in a rush now. her hand returned to your hair, gathering it in a makeshift ponytail, harshly tugging your head back to an angle that worked for her.

“you’re also a lot prettier on your knees, so gorgeous f’me.”

those words were misleading, almost soft. when she spoke again, her voice was raspy as she looked down at you with that harsh look in her eyes. “my fuckin’ slut. gonna take what i give you, and you’re not gonna complain.”

that you weren’t, even in your bratty state, you knew you weren’t in a place to complain, on your knees in front of her. plus, you were pretty sure that you wouldn’t need to complain, not for this. you were right, when she pushed the strap-on into your mouth. you hollowed out your cheeks to make it easier to take—not that billie was at all concerned with whether this was easy for you. she wanted to make you cry, she wanted you to be an absolute mess, right there in front of her and on your knees.

your tongue swirled along the sides of the strap, putting on a show for her. she smirked, loving that she had finally shut you up. the satisfaction of seeing you no longer talking back didn’t last for long, however, and soon she had tightened her grip on your hair, holding your head firmly in place. then, she started thrusting the strap as deep as she possibly could inside your mouth.

you faltered at first, your gag reflex acting up, as always. you’d always had a bad gag reflex, but billie didn’t seem to care. after a moment, you managed to sort out the gagging reflex, but it wasn’t long before it was acting up again. you could feel the tears prickling at your eyes, as you always did when billie did this. you were convinced the only reason billie ever got you to suck off the strap was so she could see you cry when you gagged.

after a while, you felt the tears rolling down your cheeks, mixing with the spit that had gathered around your mouth from the sheer pace at which billie was thrusting the strap into you. you let out a muffled whimper around the faux dick, and if you could look up and move your head from the tight grasp billie had on your hair, you’d see the cocky smirk painted on her face. she loved shutting you up like this, and she loved seeing the tears rolling down your cheeks. it was a reminder that she could make you into a mess like no one else ever could.

“god, look at you. so pathetic f’me.”

eventually, once billie was satisfied with how much of a mess you were, she pulled the strap out of your mouth, using the still-harsh grip on your hair to pull you up off your knees. she manhandled you to your feet in front of her, looking you up and down for a moment with a smirk. she took a moment to just take the sight in, your hair messy from how she’d held it, your cheeks tear-stained, and a slightly dumb, empty look in your eyes—oh, how she just adored how much of a mess she could make you.

it wasn’t long that she spent admiring you—she was still in a bad mood, and she desperately needed to blow off some steam. pretty soon, she had crossed her arms while she looked at you closely, “strip.”

you didn’t hesitate—she was unbelievably good at stripping you of your brattiness, as well as your clothes. you could feel any stubbornness you’d had leaving your body at an alarming speed. once you were stood there in front of her in just your bra and panties, billie’s lips twitched up into a small, satisfied smirk. she placed a hand on your shoulder, pushing you backwards to the bed with ease, and you fell backwards onto the sheets and pillows that had been perfectly smoothed out by the hotel staff earlier that day—they wouldn’t be looking that flawless for much longer.

she took a few more moments just admiring you, in front of her on the bed, almost bare. her index finger slipped under your panties before letting them snap back onto your skin with a teasing grin. her other hand moved to your bra, where she tweaked at one of your nipples through the lace, the sharp pain rushing straight to your core.

it wasn’t long before she’d manhandled you into the position she wanted—from behind, it seemed to be a favourite of hers—and rid you of your bra and panties. she lined the strap up with your entrance, and within moments, she’d thrusted the strap fully into you, not giving you any time to adjust. one of her hands circled your clit teasingly, dipping inside your pussy briefly and gathering your wetness on her finger with a smug smirk.

“so wet…that all from me throwing you around? treating you like some dumb toy? fuckin’ whore.”

you let out an utterly pathetic whimper, and she chuckled darkly as she thrusted into you roughly from behind, your pussy swallowing her so perfectly, so willingly—a huge contrast from the bratty display you’d been putting on earlier. her hand squeezed at your ass as she gathered your hair into a makeshift ponytail again, harshly forcing your head back.

“mm, look at you taking me so well, so much prettier when you just shut up. moments like this remind me why you’re my favourite.” you were sure you weren’t her favourite, you were sure she said that to all her girls, but you didn’t care. you let out a moan at her words, and she gave your hair another tug in response. “so fuckin’ pretty when you let me do the thinking, baby.”

she gave your hair another harsh pull to emphasise her next words, “dumb brats don’t need to think, yeah?”

you whined again, and she laughed, the hand that was grasping your hair moved to circle around your neck, squeezing slightly. it wasn’t enough to really hurt you, just a display of dominance—as if the way she was thrusting into you wasn’t enough to tell who was in charge.

the metal of her rings dug into the skin of your neck as she squeezed, and another moan spilled from your lips at the feeling combined with the pace at which she was fucking you from behind.

keeping her pace the same and her hand around your neck, she asked, “colour?” she always checked in, no matter how caught up in fucking you she might seem, she was always attentive to your signals.

“green,” you muttered, surprised you even managed to get a word out with the amount of pleasure you were feeling.

she grinned, although you couldn’t see it, and kept pounding into you at the same harsh speed, the hand that wasn’t around your neck squeezing your ass again. then, she leaned over to speak in your ear, her body pressed against your back. her lips brushed against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. god, she knew what she was doing.

“still think i’m a bitch, hm?”

you debated just not replying, but you knew that being bratty again was just what she wanted you to do—and who were you to deny her? “a bitch who’s fucking me good, yeah.”

if you could see her, you would’ve seen her smirk widen as her warm breath fanned over your neck near your ear, and she gave your ear a teasing nip, “still a brat, i see. guess i’ll just have to fuck it out of you.”

she moved away from your ear, the hand around your neck moving back to its previous position in your hair, tugging your head back with her harsh grip. her other hand moved to your hip, holding you in place as she thrusted into you. another trail of moans fell from your lips, your hands moving to dig into the sheets of the bed. “i’m- fuck, billie—”

she laughed condescendingly, giving your thigh a slap, and you whimpered as the pain sunk in. “mm, a bitch who’s fucking you so good you can’t even form a whole sentence, right?”

you just cried out at her words, your hands gripping the sheets as your walls clenched around her strap, your head going fuzzy from the pleasure she was bringing you. you didn’t care how many other girls she had fucked right before she got here, not when she was fucking you this good. you were so, so close, and she could tell.

“cum on my cock, baby. wanna see you fall apart,” she gave your hip a squeeze and tugged your hair, and that was enough to push you over the edge. you came with a moan, clinging onto the sheets like your life depended on it, pleasure washing over you in the most intense waves. your eyes squeezed shut as you mumbled incoherent nonsense, “bils, fuck—oh my god…”

she grinned again, keeping up the bruising pace, which you assumed was just her helping you ride through your orgasm. but even once you’d come down from the intense pleasure, she was still thrusting deeply inside you, causing whimpers to fall from your lips.

“bils, too much–fuck, it hurts—”

giving your hair another pull, she spoke with that same raspy voice, “i don’t care if it hurts, you’re gonna take what i fuckin’ give you, mamas. you know what to do if it’s really too much.”

you let out a strangled cry as she kept pounding into you, the pleasure mixing with pain and creating an intense feeling of ecstasy—but she was right, if you needed her to stop, you knew what to say. but you didn’t, you just kept letting out those same broken moans as your hands tangled in the sheets. your release was gathering around the base of the silicone as she pounded into you.

she let go of your hair, moving her hand so both of them were firmly holding your hips, keeping you in place as she fucked into you at that bruising pace. you were almost certain you would have bruises from how firm her grip on your hips was—not to mention how unlikely it was that you’d be able to walk the next day—but you didn’t care. it just felt too good, her fucking into you like this, the way she was manhandling you…

it wasn’t long before one of her hands snuck down to your clit, circling it torturously with her index finger and drawing even more desperate moans from your lips. you were embarrassingly close to your second orgasm, it couldn’t have been longer than five minutes since you came down from the last, but you could feel your walls clenching around her strap again.

billie noticed this, of course, and you could visualise the smug smirk on her lips when she spoke. “gonna cum f’me again, pretty girl? god, you look so much better like this.”

so, you came around her cock for the second time that night, moans falling from your lips like music. your arms were aching from holding yourself up, and you slumped down slightly, resting your head on the newly messed up sheets of the bed, a soft sigh escaping you. your thoughts were jumbled and you couldn’t pick out a single coherent thought amidst the mess of pleasure, your thoughts just a repeating mantra of billie’s name.

after a moment, billie pulled the strap out of you, and you whined again at the feeling of emptiness that took over you. she laughed softly, a slight condescending undertone to it, before grabbing your shoulders to turn you over so you were laying on your back. her touch was decidedly more gentle than it had been earlier, but she clearly wasn’t finished with you yet.

once you were on your back, she pushed your thighs apart and settled down between them, propping herself up with her elbows and looking up at you. her lips twitched upwards when she took in the expression on your face, you were completely wrecked—and she’d made you like that. she watched as you took deep, heavy breaths, your head resting back against the bed as you stared at the ceiling.

“can you move up f’me? get your head on the pillow, ma.”

her voice was almost soft, and you nodded quietly, using your weak arms to pull yourself up the bed slightly. once your head was resting on the pillow, you let out a soft sigh of relief—your neck was aching from how hard she’d been gripping it, so the pillow gave you some much needed extra support.

she looked at you for a moment, before speaking again, that raspy hint to her voice still very much present. she seemed a bit more cautious than she had been, a lot of her frustration from the day clearly fading from how hard she’d fucked you. “i wanna taste you, baby. colour?”

you nod softly, exhaling slowly. you were exhausted from how hard she’d been fucking you, but you needed her mouth on you. “mhm, green.”

it didn’t take any more confirmation for her to lean down and bury her face in your pussy, her hands gripping your thighs and holding you firmly in place. her tongue licked a stripe up your slit, drawing a loud moan from you. your thighs instinctively closed around her head, the amount of pleasure she’d given you hard to bear. she tsked, giving your thigh a warning slap and firmly forcing them open again,

“stay still.”

two fingers slipped inside you with ease, and she started thrusting them inside you at a torturously slow pace while her tongue circled your sensitive bud. the slow pace was a contrast from how fast she had previously been pounding into you, and you knew she was doing it on purpose to drive you insane. everything she did was always so calculated, exactly what you needed at that moment to make you fall apart, to make you an absolute mess for her.

her free hand moved up to your tits, giving them both a soft, misleading squeeze, before harshly pinching your nipple between her index finger and thumb, laughing mockingly when you let out a soft cry of pain.

“oh, it hurts? hm, you’re fuckin’ pathetic, baby. such a mess.”

the sounds of her fingers inside you echoed around the hotel room, the only sound other than your moans. you were so impossibly wet, and you could feel another orgasm approaching rapidly as her fingers curled inside you, “mm, you’re taking me so well. such a good, dumb slut for me, hm?”

your walls clenched around her fingers at her words, and she grinned, nipping at your inner thigh teasingly before returning her tongue to your clit. “yeah, my good little slut. like when i call you that, ma?”

you moaned again, and you were coming on her fingers before you could stop yourself, your body going limp against the bed as you were hit by your third high of the night, moans falling weakly from your lips.

billie didn’t stop her movements, her tongue moving from your clit to your pussy, gathering your taste on her warm tongue and moaning softly. her fingers replaced your tongue at your clit, and you flinched as they circled your sensitive bud.

you let out a whine as her tongue kept up her movements, slurring out a soft protest through the pain of being so overstimulated, “bils, i can’t– ‘m too sensitive—”

she hummed against your pussy, the vibrations eliciting another moan from you. she pulled back ever so slightly to respond, but you could still feel her warm breaths hitting your clit in the most achingly pleasurable way.

“fuckin’ take it like a good girl, know you can.” her fingers kept circling your clit. “you want to be a good girl for me, right? make up for being such a brat?”

you nodded desperately, because yes, you wanted to be her good girl. you wanted to please her, “yes, fuck– wanna be your good girl, billie-”

billie grinned, her tongue returning to where it had been, slipping inside you as her fingers teased your clit, “mhm, my good girl. my favourite girl.”

you whined at the pleasure she brought you, trying not to close your thighs around her head again as they shook from the sheer pleasure of this moment. you didn’t even really comprehend her words, the way she kept throwing around the lie that you were her favourite.

you didn’t even care if you weren’t her favourite girl, being one of the girls was more than enough for you. you didn’t care how many other girls she’d fucked right before this, because you could feel her tongue coaxing yet another powerful orgasm out of you. a sob left your lips, the pleasure overwhelming you and taking over your body in every way possible. god, she was too good at this.

you opened your mouth to warn her, but all that came out was a moan as she flicked your clit with her finger, and the dam broke. your head fell back against the pillow as liquid gushed out of you, soaking her chin and the sheets below you.

she eagerly lapped at it, and you let out another strangled whine, your hand reaching out to her head. your fingers tangled in her hair, trying to guide her off you. your things were shaking, your skin tingling, your body drenched in sweat, your mind foggy.

it was too much, the pleasure becoming too overwhelming. you’d have told her that if you could form words, but she took your signal and dragged her mouth away from your pussy, pressing a few soft kisses to your inner thigh.

“mm, look how messy you are, mamas. such a messy slut, all for me?”

you whined softly as she pressed kisses to your trembling thighs, “all for you.”

she grinned up at you smugly from where she lay between your thighs, her eyes raking over your face and body. her smile widened as she took in just how wrecked she’d made you, your hair messy and your body limp and exhausted, paired with the marks that were already appearing on your hips and neck from her harsh grip. she found you unbelievably gorgeous when you were like this, and she gave one of your thighs a teasing squeeze.

she had fucked the brattiness out of you, just like she’d said she would.

“see, baby, what did i tell you? so much prettier when you’re not being a brat.”

#୨ৎ lyd writes #billie eilish #billie eilish smut #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x reader smut #smut #billie eilish x you #billie eilish x y/n #hit me hard and soft #hmhas #happier than ever #when we all fall asleep where do we go #wwafawdwg

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mooooonnnzz · 3 months ago

Note

Can you PLEASE write about being stans daughter!!!! I read about being ford's and now I need to know about having stan as your dad 🩷🩷

Love You Forever and Forever

Stanley Pines x child/teen!reader

ᥬ✿ stanley goes by his actual name instead of stanford

ᥬ✿ 3,7k words oops

ᥬ✿ fem reader!

ᥬ✿ requests r still oppennn :3

ᥬ✿ book of bill website spoilers kinda? would u consider one of stans shame a spoil?

ᥬ✿ tw stans drinking alcohol is mentioned but in past tense!

ᥬ✿ mention of fords dad fic it makes sense when u read it

Stan wasn’t typically someone who wanted kids. He would have occasional drifting thoughts about how he’d have stories to tell for days if he had a little kid of his own. Those thoughts didn’t hold much meaning to them, they were just a little fantasy he would delve into whenever he had the chance. It seems like the universe heard his "calls" and being the reckless fool he is, he managed to get a woman he briefly fooled around with pregnant.

How did he find that out?

One day during the slow hours of the Mystery Shack, a knock was heard. Stan groaned, who could be knocking at his door? Shoving the newly counted dollar bills in his pocket, he grabbed his 8-ball-themed cane, in case he had to beat someone with it, and walked to the door. Pulling it open, there before him stood a beautiful woman. A moment of recognition sparked in his brain, but he was quickly blinded by her beauty and that feeling was instantly forgotten. The smell of her rich perfume filled Stan’s nostrils. Upon smelling the potent perfume, four words circled his brain. ‘Pretty Babe Who Has Money’

Leaning on his cane, he flashed a smug yellow-toothed smile at the woman. “What’s a beautiful woman like you doing this deep in the woods?”

“That won’t work on me a second time, Stanley Pines.” She growled, glaring at him so deeply he could feel her glare in his soul. Stan’s relaxed attitude was quick to dry up. “S-Second time? Do I know you?”

“As expected,” She mutters to herself, rolling her eyes. “I’m just going to cut to the chase here, Stan.” Shifting the baby that was settled on her hip, she cleared her throat. “I don’t care that you stole money from me, that’s fine. Whatever,” she says with a shrug. “But as for karma, I give you back your baby.”

The color drains from Stan’s face. “Hah, baby?” Stan uncomfortably chuckled. He opened his mouth to question where the baby was when it was quite literally right in his face. His jaw goes slack at the sight of his supposed baby sleeping soundly on her shoulder. “Look, lady. You got the wrong guy!” He pushed the door, but before it could fully close the woman shoved her foot in between the door. “Don’t do this to me, Stan. Or I will leave this baby on your porch and leave.” She threatens, kicking the door open with her heel. “Take the baby so we’re even.”

“I don’t even know who you are. For all I know, you could be lying to me.” Stan said, closing his eyes and lifting his chin up in defiance.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you.” She scoffed. “Barbara, Barabara Smith.”

That’s when the dots started connecting for Stan. Memories of him and Barabara resurface in his mind. That's why he felt that twinge of familiarity when he saw her. “It’s all coming back to you now, huh?” She rested a hand on her hip, tapping her foot impatiently on the floor.

“Barbara!” Stan smiled awkwardly, finally remembering the woman who stood before him. “H-How have you been?” He uncomfortably laughed, trying to alleviate the tension that swallowed them whole. “Oh, I’m just swell.” Her eyes narrowed angrily at him.

“So, about the baby…!” He leaned towards her, pulling a roll of cash from his pocket. “Why don’t I pay you a few hundred bucks and you can take the baby, how’s about that?”

“You’re despicable, Stanley Pines.” She said with a deep scowl.

Shoving the baby to his chest, she slammed the door shut. A blubbering mess of words spilled out of Stan in shock. In a quick flash, he opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. The woman was already in her car and sliding her keys into the ignition. “Are you sure you don’t want to keep the baby?” He yelled over the loud rumbling of her car, covering the baby's ear to block out the loud noises.

As she backed out of her parking spot, she rolled down her window and stuck a middle finger to Stan before driving off; leaving a cloud of dust behind her path. Stan sighed. What just happened?

Walking back into the shack defeated, he looked at the baby who awoke in his arms. “Guess you're stuck with me, kid.”

ꨄ︎ Having no knowledge of how to take care of a baby surely did make taking care of you hard. Unlike Ford, he doesn’t spend countless hours researching and reading books about babies to gain at least some understanding. Instead, he faces the situation head-on with little to no insight on how to take care of you. “Alright, kid.” He says, slapping his hands together. “Let’s figure out a way to take care of you.” He stares at you sitting on the sofa chair for a minute or so, waiting for you to cry, laugh, or even let out a sound. Unfortunately for Stan, all you did was stare back at him with your big eyes. “Are you gonna do anything…?” He scratches his cheek. Moments go by and still nothing comes out of you. Stan is left stumped, completely and utterly stumped. But does this convince him to finally grab a book and actually do something that benefits him? Absolutely not! He instead forms a plan in his head. He leaves the living room and has you all by yourself for a second. You don’t budge. All you did was stare thoughtlessly at the doorway where he left. Peeking his head into the living room, he saw your face brighten up. “Huh,” He says, surprised. He wasn’t expecting that to work. Drawing his head back, out the corner of his eye, he saw your smile falter. Peeking his head back in, you smiled, laughing in joy. Needless to say, Stan was amused and continued this game of peekaboo with you until a herd of customers crowded the front porch.

ꨄ︎ Feeding you wasn’t too hard! He did consider feeding you brown beef, but after reading the ingredients that were on the can, he decided against it. What he chose to do was to feed you what he had for breakfast. He had eggs for breakfast? Then he’d make scrambled eggs and give them to you. He didn’t have a high chair so he just sat you on the table and let you eat from his plate. He didn’t mind that you made a mess with your food. He found it rather endearing. “Good food, kid?” He’d ask you after every meal. “Yah!” You gurgled out, mouth full of breakfast. “Woah, careful. Don’t want you choking on your food.” At some point, during a quick run to the grocery store, he found some baby food and a high chair. He purchased them and when he arrived home, he couldn’t stop blabbering to you. “I completely forgot they had baby food at the stores,” Stan said, smacking his head with the underside of his hand. “Did you know?” He looks over to you. You responded with a smile. “Good to know I wasn’t the only crazy one here.” He walks over to you and picks you up, setting you down on the high chair. “Does this make you feel fancy?” He grabs baby food and with the spoon that came with it, he scooped it up and fed it to you. Luckily for him, you weren’t extremely picky on your food. You’d eat just about anything he would hand you. “You like my cooking better than this junk,” He would say after feeding you the baby food. “Right, kid?”

ꨄ︎ He would be lying if he didn’t find himself completely attached to you by the second day. He thought it couldn’t get worse, but during work, when he was showcasing all these different fake monsters to the tourists; all he could think about was your little chubby face and your cute laugh. There would be times when he’d close the shack early, just so he could spend some time with you. “A little birdie told me that you were missing me.” He said, picking up from your crib. “Isn’t that right, sweet pea?” He worked around this issue by implementing you in his museum of mysterious monsters. “Behold!” He pulled back the curtains, revealing you in a little sheep costume. “Half human baby, half sheep!” The crowd aw's at your cuteness. “The baby baa’s like a sheep when you throw money at her!”

ꨄ︎ Picking out clothes was something he prided himself in. He would deck you down in the cutest dress and purposefully stroll down the street with you in his arms for people to coo and aww at you and him. “Your daughter is so cute!” Someone would say and you’d be sleeping on his shoulder, rocking a cute bow on your head that he bought you. “Oh, I know. She has my cuteness.” Stan proudly said. He meant that sentence with all of his soul. Yes, you do have his cuteness and if anyone else told him otherwise, he will argue back.

ꨄ︎ Teaching you how to walk was one of the many prideful moments he had with you. Slightly crouched down, he held onto your little hands. You wobbled around, not accustomed to using your feet. “This is gonna be trial and error, kid. But as long as you’re with me, it’s going to be easy peasy.” Taking a cautious step back, he watches as you lift your leg up. Stan’s lit up, your foot stomping down on the ground. “Good, good. Now your other foot.” With your other foot, you raised it up. Shifting from side to side, you let out a scared babble. “It’s okay, sweet pea. I got you. No need to worry.” He assured you. Hearing his soothing words motivated you to continue on. With a deep breath, you moved your foot forward and stomped down. Pure delight and joy drummed through Stan’s body as he scooped you up from the floor and carefully embraced you. “That’s my girl!” he cheered happily.

ꨄ︎ The first time you called him Dad was when he was watching TV and you were on your playmat, playing with all the toys Stan bought you. The TV displayed a daughter and father, and you took notice of how she kept calling him Dad. Connecting two and two, you flipped back and forth to Stan and the TV. For a few minutes you were humming out words and Stan would smile at you and call you a cutie. At some point, he figured out what you were trying to say and picked you up. Putting you on his lap, he looked at you expectantly, hanging on to every single noise and gurgle you made. “What are you trying to say, sweet pea?” Chewing on your fingers you finally managed to say Dad. “Dada!” Stan is solid as a statue. Did you just call him Dad? He doesn’t process it fully at first but when you decide to say it again, tears begin to well up in his eyes. “I’m not crying, pea. I just got some of your baby spit in my eye!” He gave you extra snacks that day, and maybe every other day after that.

ꨄ︎ Your first birthday was one to remember, for him at least. Initially, he was going to invite the whole town over to celebrate such a big milestone, but he was rudely reminded of a memory when he tried to celebrate his own birthday and no one even bothered to show up. So he kept it between you and him. At first, he attempted to make your cake but when that ended in shambles he chose to go to the store and buy you a cake. Bringing you along, he buckled you into your car seat. Starting up his car, he started driving into the road. While driving Stan couldn’t remember the last time he was so excited to do something. How long has it been since he’s felt pure joy in his life? Since he had company that was equally happy to be around him. He can’t remember a life without you and that scares him, but just a quick glance at you calms his nerves and he feels at peace. He never knew how much of an effect you’d have on him. Stepping out of the car and into the supermarket, he searched. Pushing the cart that had you in it, he looked at you when he reached the cakes. “Which one do you want, pumpkin?” With a back-and-forth conversation that had him do most of the talking, he decided on a small vanilla cake that had strawberry frosting slathered on it. He placed it inside the cart and continued strolling on. At some point, he picked up some balloons and candles. “Should I buy you a happy birthday banner?” He said as he put the packet inside the cart. After purchasing all of the birthday items, he left the store and drove home. Setting up the decorations for him was a blast. And soon enough, the whole kitchen was gorgeously decorated for your birthday. Placing you in the high chair, he gave you a tiny piece of cake. “Happy birthday, sweetie.” His party hat was drooping sideways along with yours. “Thank you for showing me unconditional love.” He planted a kiss on your forehead.

ꨄ︎ Years went by and suddenly Stan was crouching down on the floor, slipping your backpack on you for your first day of school. “You ready for school, sweet pea?” Stan asked. You spun around, a small pout sprouting on your lips. “No,” You kicked a rock that was on the floor, fear and anxiety crackling through your small body. “I’m scared.” You admitted. Your vision was blotted with tears, your heart breaking at the thought of being separated from your dad for such a long time. “I’m gonna be so far away from you.” You sniffled, hot tears streaming down your cheeks. “Oh, come here.” A frown is so deeply etched on Stan’s face he worries that after this, he’d have a permanent frown on his face. Encasing you in a hug, he slowly ran his hand down your hair. “You’re gonna be okay, pumpkin.” He pressed a kiss on your temple. “You’re a Pines for Christ's sake, and we survive anything, don’t we?” You pull away from the hug, wiping off your tears with your sleeve. “Remember that I’ll always be there for you, okay? No matter the distance.” His hand cusps your cheek and on instinct, you lean your hand into his palm. “Mhm,” You sniffle, your hands wrapping around his finger. “And hey, if you don’t like it there, you can fake being sick and I’ll pick you up, alright pumpkin?” The idea of faking an illness just so you could be back in the comforts of your home made the anxiety of going to school die down a bit. You had an escape plan! “When I get back from school can we rob people of their money?” A surprised laugh bellowed out of Stan. “Sure, pumpkin. You can make me a sea monkey and make them believe we actually caught it, how’s that sound?” You nodded your head with a smile. And with that, he drove you to school. When he reached the school, saying goodbye to you tugged at his heartstrings. He couldn’t bear to see you go. With a tearful hug and a kiss on the head, you were off. Stan cried on the way home. The whole day, he was so distressed he didn't even bother to open the shack. When he picked you up from school, he asked you about your day. "I don't like school."

ꨄ︎ Stan could never say no to you, it was practically impossible to muster out the word. So when you asked to stay home from school because you weren’t feeling well, he said yes with no hesitation. You want this doll you saw at the mall, of course! Everything you wanted, you’d get. And did it hurt Stan’s pocket from time to time, but after getting over the initial shock of how much he spent on you, your reaction to getting what you wanted was enough for Stan to look past that.

ꨄ︎ Summerween was creeping and soon the houses were decorated with skeletons and zombies, melon lanterns littered the town at night and kids were rushing to the nearest costume store to snag a costume of their own. Originally, Stan spent his Summerween scaring children off one by one with a multitude of tricks up his sleeve. But ever since you implemented yourself in his life, he hasn’t done that tradition in over 8 years. Instead, he’d dress up with you. You wanted to be Boo from Monsters Inc? Then he’d be Sully to match with you. Beauty from Beauty and the Beast? Then he’ll be Beast. Photos of each costume were plastered on the billboard in his room. His favorite costume was when you were a baby, he dressed you up as Rapunzel and he was the tower. The compliments he received from that costume were insane. It was enough to fuel him into entering a costume competition and shockingly enough, he won!

ꨄ︎ Snowball fights in the winter is an activity you and Stan can never pass up on. You could be innocently building a tiny little snowman when you feel a snowball hit your back and slide down your jacket. Looking behind you, you could see Stan whistling to himself as he pretended to occupy himself with the snow. When he clumped the snow together, he shot a glance over your way. What he wasn’t expecting was to see you gone from your spot. His stomach drops, were you snatched by some rando in the woods when he wasn’t looking? Dropping his snowball he called out your name. Each time you didn’t respond, his heart sank more and more. “Pumpkin? Answer me plea—“ A snowball pelted right into his face. Sputtering out in disbelief, he wiped his hand down his face. A burst of laughter came from you and you happily clapped your hands together. “Did I get you?” Stan rolls his eyes playfully and before you knew it, a snowball was being shot towards you. You tried running away but you were too slow. The snowball hit you straight on the back causing you to fall face first on snow. Popping your head up, you laugh loudly. “Dad, that’s so unfair.” He scooped you up, wiping the snow off your face with his mitten. “Get used to it, I play unfair, pumpkin.”

ꨄ︎ When Soos came along, it was a playdate every day at the Mystery Shack. He was just ten and you were eight, not too far apart in age, you and him got along fairly well. When Stan would be wasting his time away on the TV, he’d get a gut feeling something was amiss. All the time. And whenever he’d go looking for you and Soos, he would either find you and Soos taking apart some part of the house or making a mess of things. However, there would be times when he benefited from the mess. It was crazy enough that he was able to convince people that a monster had come into his house and wrecked the entire place. That gained him a few hundred bucks while it lasted.

ꨄ︎ Soon enough, you were old enough to work alongside Stan and help him with tourists. Back then, you used to create the attraction by gluing taxidermy animals together. Now, you do both! You lead people around, show them a few tourist attractions, scam them with their money, and get away with it. On the side, you work together with Soos to create new abominations that keep more people coming into the shack. After a while, Wendy tagged along and the three of you ruled the shack, kinda. On slow days, you and Wendy chilled on the roof, drinking pit colas and sharing stories with each other. Sometimes Soos would join, but most of the time he’d be too busy fixing something that broke. “Dude,” Wendy began, closing the magazine she was reading and setting it down on the table. “I sometimes like, completely forget that you're Stan’s daughter. How’s that for you?” She asked, resting her chin on her palms. “Eh,” You swiped the mop you had in hand back and forth. “It’s not so bad.” You said with a shrug. “It’s actually pretty fun.” Leaning on the mop, a memory from early childhood sparked in your memory. “You know, back when I was like, what? one through three? Dad had me as a tourist attraction.” You say with a fond smile. “What! No way.” Wendy chuckled out. “What did he disguise you as?” You thought for a moment, tapping a finger on your chin. “I think a lamb?” Another laugh leaves Wendy. “No way, that’s actually so cute.”

ꨄ︎ “Dad, do you ever wonder how different life would be if Mom never came over here to give me to you?” Stan, without hesitation, replies, “Yeah. Sometimes I do.” Scratching his back, he locked the front door of the shack. You and Stan were currently closing up the shack for the night. “Like, what do you think about?” You ask, closing the blinds. “How calmer my life would be.” You scoff, shoving him. “Be serious, Dad!” You huffed out, walking over to the kitchen with him following. “You want me to be honest?” He plops himself on the couch that has his buttcheeks indented in them. “Yeah, duh. That’s why I’m asking.” You open the fridge and grab a pit cola. “Honestly, you were a gift in disguise.” He says. “Without you, I don’t know where I’d be.” He scratches his chin, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I’d most likely be drinking myself to sleep.” You frowned. “You don’t mean that, do you?” Stan looks off to the side, he’s never admitted that to you before, or to anyone. “That’s what I used to do before I met you, sweet pea.” Walking over to Stan, you wrap your arms around him. “Well, I’m glad you opened the door that day.” You hold him closer. “Me too, Pumpkin, me too.”

i absolutely love writing dad fics for stan and ford ohmg

#gravity falls x reader #gravity falls #stanley pines x daughter! reader #stanley pines x reader #stanley pines #stan pines x reader #stan pines x daughter!reader #stan pines

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lucysarah-c · 4 months ago

Text

Levi's horrible flirting skills part 5.

Will I start using my own art as banners? Yeah, 'cause I can lmao.

Masterlist link to all the previous parts.

Footsteps against the muddy ground, the little snow that had fallen in the south melted easily and only served as nourishment to the mud. Levi’s combat boots made it easier for him to take one sturdy step after another, hands inside the pockets of the scout’s green trench coat. Eyes fixed on the ground, dark rebel locks fell to the sides of his face as only his nose peeked through the scarf, creating a fog rhythmically in front of his face.

He took the muddiest side of the country road out of respect, it felt natural to him. Quickly, his eyes spotted that certain parts of the road were already frozen, “Careful-”

But before he could actually voice it, instinctively he stopped to catch her as her shoes slipped. Her little squeezed scream paired with her movements as she gripped his arms for support.

Levi, who was unfazed by her grip or the tricky winter ground, clicked his tongue, “I told you to be careful,” he said, but despite his words, his voice was calm and protective.

“Ah, yes. My uniform isn’t really designed for a trip to the forest, is it?” she commented between chuckles, but they seemed mostly out of nerves because there wasn’t anything funny going on.

Unfazed on the outside, Levi’s attention was fixed on his extended arms surrounding her frame but without touching her. She could easily grip any of his forearms for support, but he, who wasn’t a fan of physical contact, tried not to touch her. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t want to overstep. The only thought crossing his mind as she tried to get both of her feet on steady land was looking at her hands, imagining them around his.

This could easily be a routine of theirs, him making sure she reached the ferry station safely as she came over to visit him. Walking side by side, fingers intertwined. But that was a daydream still far away, and Levi quickly realized this as she placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Well... not actually, it was more like a cheek against cheek as she pressed the side of her face against his and made a kissing sound without her lips actually touching his skin.

He frowned and slightly pushed back, mostly out of surprise.

“Oops, sorry-” she said cheekily, recalling both of them how they first met, “I forgot that tough-up soldiers don’t give kisses.” It was mockery.

“Thank you, Captain.”

Levi raised his right hand, taking it out of his pocket and imitated her wave back but with far less enthusiasm. Greeting with kisses, something that he had only seen between women but it seemed that in the capital it was also exchanged between men and women. He found it a bit too personal for his taste, but that was because he didn’t even shake hands usually.

‘I’m a tough-up soldier... I’ll gladly receive a kiss from you.’

His hand lowered slowly as he observed her aboard, as an eagle his attention was inflexible. Levi didn’t realize he was holding his hand up until that moment, ‘what an idiot.’

But as his bare right hand began to feel the winter weather compared to how warm it was inside his pockets, the freezing air against his skin was a cold wash of reality; they didn’t walk holding hands, it was just a dream. ‘Four-eyes was right... I’m not even trying.’

For dreams to come true, you must wake up and work on real life. He was determined. Her welcoming smile from the ferry that began, and a new waving hand to him that was still waiting at the bottom, looking at her.

“Cap!” She screamed.

And he couldn’t help but smile very softly at the picture of her face from the top of the boat.

“Enjoy the cake!”

Levi’s smile dropped slowly, ‘Eventually I’ll have to fucking tell her that I don’t like sweet shit...’

‘Oh well... problems of future’s Levi.’

Since then, he was a man with a mission. ‘She asked me for a friend, so at least she doesn’t think I’m a fucking creep.’

Seeing the glass half full? That’s exactly what Levi was going to start to do. Baby steps. It’s not that he crossed paths with her continuously, especially when they were not going outside on expeditions. He began to do a mental list; Sweet stuff, flowers, cats, and allergic to nuts. He certainly could come up with something.

‘Maybe I could write a letter... thank her for the cake.’

‘Let’s not carry on the idea that you like that, I don’t like to fucking lie to her.’

‘Wouldn’t it be weird that you wrote a letter out of nowhere? Plus, what the hell are you going to write there? ‘Thanks for the cake, I don’t like it, but Hange did.’ No, no, let’s leave the letters to poets and their smooth shit.’

And so on, he wished he was as decisive as he was in battle in his romantic life. But as soon as he saw his chance, Levi was confident about taking it. Military event, the weather had gotten better, they were about to leave for an expedition in a couple of days. Had he protected the piece of cake that he was given at the end of the dinner with his life from Hange? Yes, an easier task was retaking Wall Maria.

“Come on! You’re not going to eat it!”

“I’ve seen Titans less persistent than you.”

Levi felt particularly judged walking down the hallways as he switched buildings of the military and went to the main hospital. MPs recognized him in the streets, citizens whispered his name, and he felt a ginormous power to turn around and forget it all.

‘This is stupid.’

‘Well, sometimes you gotta do some stupid shit to get what you want ... I just wished I did this sort of stupid shit when I was young enough to be too hormonal or drunk to care.’

“Y/N?” he asked at the front desk, “Is she on service?”

The other two girls exchanged a look, one took a sip of her tea to hide her raising smirk and the other replied, “Give me a minute, Captain.”

She rushed behind to the staff-only section and Levi felt particularly impatient. ‘What the hell am I going to tell her? I got a piece of cake and thought of you? No, that’s ridiculous. Then why the fuck am I doing here?! I don’t know!’

“Captain?” her voice, her almost closed eyes as she tried to force them open, her hair messy.

‘I want to see her... I want to see her before I leave to that hell out there.’

“Captain, is everything alright?” She asked worriedly, as she moved between the furniture of the hospital’s archive. Her hands hastily tried to ease out her clothes.

‘Fucking shit...’ he imagined her waking up by his side, drowsy, bed hair and tossed clothes. But as she grew closer, he grew speechless.

“Is everything alright? Is it an emergency?” Her worried tone made him snap.

“Yes,” “No,” he replied monosyllabically.

“Then... what are you-”

“For you,” Levi acted almost instinctively, pushing the gift in her direction. “No nuts so I don’t fucking kill you.”

Her lips remained parted while processing the situation, once sense came back into her, she slowly accepted the gift. “Why thank you...” she said in a trance, “Did something happen, Captain-”

“Levi.”

“Huh?”

“My name is Levi.”

He dodged the question. And while he felt it was only him and her there as her eyes shined in surprise, the truth is that people walked past by them in a hurry to fulfil their tasks.

“You... you’re leaving, right?” she broke the awkward silence, “To an expedition, I mean.”

Levi nodded.

“I hope you return safe. I’ll volunteer to the medical brigade for the return.”

The mere idea of her waiting at the improvised medical camp they always had to check the soldiers and help the wounded once they returned from outside the walls was enough to make him excited and hopeful. Both necessary emotions when you’re going to face death.

‘That’ll be a hell of a blessing.’

“You’ll be useful there,” Levi replied.

He knew it was almost disrespectful to be waiting for it; his comrades died, mothers lost their sons, kids lost their mothers. Everyone had their expectations of him, but he was only human. A man who wanted to just catch at least a glimpse of his girl’s face to make it seem like returning from hell had some sort of value.

Once most of the soldiers had been cared for, Levi searched through the crowd, peeking through the people, getting on his tiptoes to get some height to spot her.

‘There you are.’ He felt second-hand embarrassment for how excited he got, but as he took steady steps closer, the emotions withdrew slowly.

Her eyes were reddish and transparent, long face and trembling lips.

‘No... why are you crying? Who do I have to kill? Give me a name.’

Knuckles of a bigger hand began to caress her cheek. She looked up as his knuckle turned into his thumb, softly loving her face. He was dressed in a white overall that clearly indicated he was a doctor.

‘Who the hell is he?’ Levi quickly felt the anger boiling. He knew he was being irrational, but he had just come back from risking his life; his mind was not seeing reason.

“Is this a museum?” the doctor, who seemed younger than Levi anticipated, asked cheekily.

Y/N looked up at him confused. ‘Why the fuck is he so hella tall?’

“Then what are two art pieces doing here, you,” as he said that, Y/N gasped, blushed, and smiled shyly, “And that smile.”

‘He made her smile... he made her smile and blush.’

Levi’s steady pace up to them lost its confidence. She noticed him and smiled softly, welcoming, but that didn’t make the Captain feel better. The doctor realized his presence and probably decided to carry on with the rest of his tasks, not without moving past her by dragging his hand across the bottom of her back and giving her waist a little squeeze as he smiled.

“Levi, I’m so happy you made it back.”

But those words and her friendly squeeze of his forearms went unnoticed as Levi’s surgical observation caught all that, and he couldn’t hide his unfriendly stare at the man.

‘Cut your fucking hand off and feed it to pigs before touching her like that without her permission.’

—

“I don’t like the asshole.”

“You don’t like him, or you’re just jealous he’s charming?” Hange asked as they spun around in their desk chair. “Or that he’s almost as tall as Erwin.”

“Tch, I don’t like the asshole. Nothing to do with that frivolous shit.”

‘Perhaps a little bit.’

Hange chuckled and rolled their eyes. “Your reasons?”

Levi rose from his seat, exasperated, walking around the brunette’s office like a caged lion. “Do I have reasons? Yeah. Good reasons? Yeah. How many reasons do I need? None. My intuition has never failed me to spot out jerks.”

Suddenly, now that he was back to work and had excuses to visit her more frequently, he was always there. The way he always found a way to rest his hand on the bottom of her back right above her ass, squeeze her waist friendly, run a hand through her hair, smile at her.

“Doesn’t he have better shit to do?” Levi muttered annoyed, observing from a distance at how he said something that made her laugh.

“Well, he’s at his job,” Erwin replied, mocking him as the captain’s attitude seemed childish.

“I love how your hair looks in that,” the doctor casually commented.

It ate Levi from the inside how she began to make it her usual look. ‘That’s the kind of shit you should’ve been saying, but you’re stupid!’

Levi hated it. It made him grit his teeth in uncontrolled fury how she always smiled with blushed cheeks and hopeful eyes as she looked at him. ‘She’s just too naive and doesn’t fucking notice that he’s obviously trying to take advantage.’

“You’re just jealous; it won’t hurt you to admit it.”

Levi clicked his tongue, muttering against the hand that held his head, “He fucking stinks, he just wants to get between her legs.”

“Like you?” Hange joked around as they raised their eyebrows and smirked at their friend.

“Tch,” he straightened up, offended. “Don’t fucking compare me to him.”

‘I mean, yes... but no!... I’ll do it respectfully.’

One thing was Capital people being too frivolous about their personal space, and another was that Levi always caught him playfully around another girl.

‘The dude has more hands than an octopus, and none of them are ever over his own fucking body.’

The mere idea of him taking advantage of her, of her kindness, made Levi clench his fist. It was very early; Levi had just come out of an extraordinary meeting with the military board that lasted all night long.

Perhaps he should have given it a thought when he had slept better, not that he slept plenty, but at least he knew how to normally function with three hours of sleep. It was too early to get any transport back to the scout's facility, so he was just doing time as Erwin talked to investors. On the other hand, she was a fresh early bird working at her position quietly as it was a calm morning.

She seemed radiant, rosy cheeks and smooth hair... hair in the same style he had praised. ‘For fuck's sake,’ it rubbed him the wrong way.

“Oi,” Levi decided to interrupt her monologue; he was slacked against a wall, bent slightly over with arms crossed. ‘Show her that you care,’ Hange's words echoed in his mind.

“Yes?” She was archiving paperwork and organizing reports.

“That asshole... one of the doctors in your division.”

“Matty?” She quickly filled in the information, “What about him? Do you need him?” Her attention briefly moved to the clock on the wall, “He won’t be here until later on; he had the night shift today.”

Levi clicked his tongue, looking in another direction, ‘she doesn’t even suspect him.’

“No,” he spat out, “Look, keep your guard up around him. Don’t be stupid.”

Y/N turned around confused, her eyebrows drawn together in mixed emotions.

‘I’m just trying to protect you.’

Levi felt her attention. His steps echoed around the whitish walls of the empty hospital, keeping his head down as he approached. “I’m just saying that stupid little spoiled brats from the Capital like you sometimes don’t realize it, but morons like him aren’t playing friendly.”

“Excuse me? What did you say?”

That was the moment Levi should have noticed the change in her tone and the frown switching from confused to angry.

The click of his tongue was mostly because he didn’t know how to phrase it better, “I’m just saying, dummy,” he swore his tone was caring as his calloused hand from continuous hours of training reached out to caress her forearm tenderly, “that you may be too stupid for your own good and be all nice and friendly, but don't be stupid and do what I tell you."

‘I care about you and I know firsthand how those assholes abuse their power around girls. I’ll beat the living shit out of him if he ever makes you feel uncomfortable.’

Levi swore he had been tender. He wished to run his thumb over her cheek and show her how she could rely on him, how much he was there for her, for her safety.

“Captain,” Y/N’s tone made Levi snap up as he had his attention focused on his hand that was trying to connect with her, “Who the hell gave you the authority to tell me who I should get involved with?”

“Ehm-”

Levi took a step back, confused, as she looked back at him with anything but friendliness.

“I’ve lived alone my entire life, I have a career, and the last thing I need is a man telling me that I’m too stupid for my own good,” she said, arms resting on her hips as her angry eyes burned into his.

The cold water’s shock made any quick reply he had to fix the misunderstanding completely vanish, “No—”

“I respect you for your work and because you’re a close friend of Erwin. But you’re not my father, nor my boss, to tell me what to do and, much less, that I don’t know how to take care of myself,” Y/N snapped a couple of folders on the desk, “If you’re looking to control someone’s life, I recommend adopting a dog. I have work to do. Have a nice day.”

Levi stood there frozen in his place, perplexed. ‘Wait... is it wrong that I found it hot that she knows how to tell people to fuck off?’

“Fuck —”

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthor @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee @galactict3a @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime @hagridshaircare Wanna join my tag list? Here! You don't appear on this list? Do not worry! there's a limit of tags and I'll add you in the comments <3

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remlionheart · 11 days ago

Note

Hello beautiful

Can I put in a request where Megumi and reader both have a partner but are fully attracted to each other and Megumi of course plays it stoic, indifferent etc. but then something happens( I haven’t figured out what event exactly, maybe they get drunk at a party?I’ll leave it up to you 🤍) and they succumb to their needs( a little coercion from Megumi oops) and Megumi is just so pussy drunk, whiny, non sensical blabbing mess and reader baby traps him 🥴🥴

I just need Megumi so bad, he plagues my mind every second of the day… I need therapy and Jesus. Thank you if u decide to go with it, love everything you do 🤍🤍🤍

Hi pretty ♡ Sorry to say - no Jesus here, but maybe this can be therapy for both of us bc I’ve been thinking about this ask heavily since I got it. And what better time to start a depraved lil drabble than at midnight on the night of a full moon? 🌙✨

((as always, all characters are aged up to 21+, if u don’t enjoy that feel free to scroll along ♡ all trigger warnings are in the request itself, lemme know whatcha think, luv u ✩࿐࿔ ))

⋆˙⟡MDNI ⋆˙⟡

Megumi’s new girlfriend was sweet, kind, cute. Always by his side no matter what and tonight was no exception.

She was smiling at you with her hand wrapped delicately over his arm, asking you how you’d met your date… who was also, at your side and wrapped around your arm. He was cluelessly bantering back and forth with her while you and Megumi exchanged the same pointed look.

It was subtle, the way his blue eyes lingered on your boyfriend’s hand placement, watching him gently squeeze your hip as he laughed at a joke that two of you had missed entirely.

You'd only been been dating this most recent fling for a few weeks - it was hardly anything to be jealous of, but the fact Megumi had noticed at all gave a sick part of you satisfaction. It was an unspoken rivalry you had with him, one that you typically found yourself on the losing end of. He’d fuck someone, so you would too. He’d date someone, so you would too. He’d show up to this stupid fucking party with a date, so you would too.

It was the same pitiful dance that you'd been doing for the last year and a half, your feelings for him always right on the tip of your tongue but never at the right time.

Watching his girlfriend rest her head on his shoulder as the four of you continued on with your mindless banter was your own personal hell and yet, you said nothing. Instead, mirroring them, clinging onto your own date harder as you pretended to care about whatever work story was being tossed around.

The night carried on like this for the next hour or so as the once small house party started to evolve into something rowdier. The music getting louder and the living room getting more and more crowded as you knocked back three more drinks.

You were dizzy, trying not to lose your balance while you excused yourself from your group to go venture upstairs in search of a bathroom. Your boyfriend had offered to come with you, but you insisted that you were alright, shooing him away with a smile as you told him to go get another drink.

He seemed to be enjoying himself and you didn’t want that to end just because of your pathetic urge to chase after someone who clearly didn’t want you back.

Your footsteps came to a clumsy pause, a small, drunken laugh escaping you as you entered the bathroom and caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your red dress was shorter than you remembered it being when you left, your hair just as perfectly disheveled as your thoughts. You steadied yourself before taking a seat, letting the music from downstairs provide you with a comfortable sense of privacy.

You had just washed your hands and were in the middle of throwing your hair into a bun when the door opened unexpectedly. Your ankle almost sprained from how quickly you’d whipped around, your heart stalling in your chest as Megumi looked back at you with the sound of the lock latching behind him.

“The hell are you doing, Fushiguro?”

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, his arms folding over his chest as he rested his back against the door. “Since when do you date coworkers?”

You almost laughed you were so stunned, your posture straightening a bit as you continued to keep your attention focused on your reflection and not on him. “Since when do you care who I date?”

“I don’t,” he shrugged, “just don’t want to hear you complain about it later when things don’t work out.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a stupid smile at how annoyingly apathetic he had to be at all times. “And you felt it was necessary to follow me into a bathroom to let me know that?” You countered, finally turning to face him.

It was the first time all night that you’d seen his stoic demeanor start to waver.

His eyes narrowed as he raised his brow at you, letting his arms fall back to his sides. “You’re drunk.” He quipped, taking a slow step towards you. “Just because your boyfriend’s careless enough to let you go running around by yourself doesn’t mean I am.”

Your throat was suddenly dry at how close he was to you, his tidal wave eyes flooding your senses as they dragged down to your lips.

“Your girlfriend’s downstairs.” You reminded him, desperately trying to ignore the heat that was gathering at your center.

“I know,” he breathed, his hand traveling up to the back of your neck as he held you in place. “But you’re right here.”

“Megumi…” Your voice nearly trembled, your insides catching fire at the feeling of his lips grazing yours. “We can’t…”

Your protest was hardly convincing though - not with the way your body was having its own private conversation with his. Practically begging to be touched as he wedged his knee between your thighs just to see how much temptation you could withstand.

He knew you wanted this. Knew that you thought about it just as much as he did, if not more. You’d always followed him around like a lost puppy. Always mirrored whatever he did like your intentions weren’t glaringly obvious. He’d been fighting to restrain himself for the last year and a half. Did everything he could to not succumb to the carnal urges that plagued him every time you showed up to his house in the shortest sundress he’d ever seen. He kept himself busy with other girls - lied to himself and pretended that it wasn’t you he was thinking about when he closed his eyes and thrusted into them. But you were everywhere, not just tonight and not just right now, but always. A constant thought in the back of his mind. A task he couldn’t ever mark as complete. A gnawing, agonizing, need that he couldn’t fight for one more fucking second.

“I’m so tired of it always being someone else,” he said against your lips, letting out a heady little exhale at how submissively you were staring back at him. “I want it to be you.”

The coiling tension in your lower abdomen felt like it was going to snap as the firmness of his knee pushed at just the right angle, giving your clit a much-needed brush of friction while his words swirled lazily through your mind.

He was right- you must’ve been drunk because there was no way he was prompting you to grind on him. No way that he was parting your lips with his tongue. No way that his grip was tangling into your hair as your hips began to rock rhythmically against him. No way that he was helping lift your bra over your head all while a mere staircase separated the two of you from your partners.

There was simply no way any of this was real.

His mouth was warm against your skin, kissing and nipping across your collarbone while his hand palmed at your chest. “S’fucking pretty,” he praised, his gaze pointed at the way your dress had nearly hiked all the way up your hips as you kept riding his leg.

“Show me what you do when you’re alone thinking about me,” he panted, “just like that, don't fucking stop.” His voice was sinful bliss trailing back up your neck, your dress now only covering your midsection as he pulled the straps of it down over your arms so that the top half met where the bottom half had ridden up.

You were dangerously - pathetically, close to cumming, not caring at all who heard you as your nails dug into his shoulder blade. Your needy little clit still pushing and pleading into his leg. “More,” you begged, “please - this isn’t - fair.”

“It’s not fair?” You hated the moan that slipped out at the sickeningly sweet way he mocked you. “Poor thing." His mouth was warm and torturous in the shell of your ear. "You know what I don't think is fair?"

The whimper you let out was all the answer he needed though.

His fingers wrapped delicately around your neck - an odd sense of security laced into them despite the way they were cutting off your oxygen. “I don’t think it’s fair that I have to want you this bad.” His other hand suddenly roaming along the curve of your hip. “I don’t think it’s fair that I have to pretend not to care when you do dumb shit like dangle new men in front of me.” His lips returned to yours, catching all the little whines that were escaping you. “And I really don’t think it’s fair how hard I’m about to fuck you while he’s downstairs waiting for you.”

It definitely wasn't the sentence that should've brought you to your breaking point, but it did. His grip tightened on you, fingertips digging perfectly into each side of your neck making your vision blur and your center ache. Your moans were every bit as broken as your thoughts, your eyes not leaving his while he nodded back at you.

"That's it." His grasp slowly began to release, loosening up with each whine you let out for him. "Cummin’ so easily for me.”

The room was still hazy, electricity dancing along your skin as he gently helped bring you to your feet before turning you around. You watched him from the reflection in the mirror, a dizzy smile cutting across your face while you watched him slip your dress all the way off and bend you over the counter.

"Fuck," he groaned, admiring the slick glistening off of you as he undid his belt. He ran two fingers between your folds, his mouth slightly dropping open at how sensitive you were to his touch - the cute little noises he could coax out of you by barely doing anything and the way your back arched so perfectly for him.

"Look at me," he breathed, placing a firm hand on your shoulder as he lined himself up with you.

His eyes trailed back up to yours, his tip carefully prodding at your entrance while he watched the desperate little expression that had taken over your features. "God damn," he hissed, his breath hitching in his throat at how faithfully your walls were swallowing him.

You were so wet, your brain and body both completely enamored with the sight and feeling of him sinking into you. The waiting game you'd been playing was well worth reward and you were enjoying every inch of your prize.

He was stretching you so tenderly, going deeper and deeper with each thrust. Though he'd told you to look at him, he seemed to be the one having a hard time maintaining your stare. His pretty blue eyes were glazed over, his composure starting to leave him the longer he looked at you.

"Oh my god," he groaned, "why do you feel so fucking good?"

His rhythm became harsher, both his hands grabbing onto your hips as he used you to his liking. “You know how many times I've thought about doing this, huh?" You weren't sure where your moans ended and his began, the rest of the world slipping away as he continued to blissfully bully his way into you. "Look at you, so pouty and pretty. Taking me like such a good girl."

His words made you clench, your cunt nearly suffocating him as he kept letting out more incoherent praises. He was just as lost as you were, just as dazed-out and unaware of his surroundings. The only thing keeping him grounding was the sound of you whimpering his name and how it kept getting needier and louder.

He wanted people to hear. Wanted everyone in the entire house knew that he had you bent over with your tits pressed against the counter and your ass flushed firmly against him. Wanted them to know that it was his name you sang out when you came.

“Megumi -” you whined, “right there, ohmygod, right.. the - re.”

Your walls spasmed around him, little hearts and stars suddenly filling your vision as your eyes rolled back. “Please,” you begged, chasing the blinding white light of your release as far as it would go, “cum inside me, please - fuck, don’t stop.”

He knew he shouldn’t. Knew you weren’t on birth control. Knew you well enough to know how desperate you were to keep him around. He knew all the risks. Knew what a terrible fucking idea it was and yet,

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he grunted, his movements just as needy and out of control as yours. “For me to fill you up,” he was losing himself to the thought, “to go back downstairs with me dripping down your leg? Yeah, I bet you fucking would.”

It was the worst idea. Every reasonable part of him screaming at for him to stop.

“Y - es! Please, please - ah~!”

But the sound of you begging made that reasonable part of him disappear entirely, replaced by an absolutely unhinged part of him that he didn’t even know existed until that very moment.

He wanted your belly to swell, wanted everyone to look at you and know that it was him who had bred you and that it was him who would do it again and again. He was going to make the whole world know you were his and it made him fucking feral.

He groaned, chest heaving as he gave you one last punishing thrust, burying himself as deep as he could as he twitched inside you. His breath hitching in his throat, his mind only filled with you and your body only filled with him.

A beautifully damning warmth coated your walls while you shot him the prettiest, haziest smile he’d ever seen. Both of you slowly returning back to reality.

He carefully pulled out of you, watching the mess the two of you had made spill out of you as he grabbed your shoulders and turned you around to face him.

His hands were warm against the sides of your neck, thumb placed firmly under your chin to tilt your head up towards his, “Next time you decide to shove another guy in my face,” he said, “you better make sure they’re not dumb enough to leave you alone with me.”

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

#thots and prayers ── .✦#rem writes #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #megumi x reader #megumi smut

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romanarose · 7 months ago

Text

I Miss You, Mr. Miller

DBF!Joel Miller x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Joel makes you WET wet.

AKA

There's a pun here about eggs somewhere.

Warnings: Masturbating, sex toys, body worship, "little bunny", joel making sure reader knows he's old man, degrading, almost getting caught.

Immersivity: Reader is fem, dresses very feminine. Drinks and celebrates Christian holidays, not is christian but like family and culturally. Major age gap. Big girthy age gap but reader is 21+. Mentions of church.

A/N: Part of the DBF!Joel Holiday fuck series but you don't gotta read the previous part. I missed Easter OOPS so now we get a flashback.

1.3k words

You liked to start off slow, take your time with yourself. Hands, gliding over your shirt, feeling your body all the way down to your thighs. You learned this from Joel.

Sure a quickie was fun, especially under the threat of being caught, but Joel preferred to take his time with you. Likewise, you started to mimic this when masturbating. Joel you could, theoretically, take the vibe to your clit, put on some Gone Wild Audio and git’er done, but why? Why not show your body the appreciation it deserved. You were beautiful. You were sexy. Joel wasn’t the only one who could enjoy it.

Joel knelt before your spread legs, hands running up and down your pretty little Easter dress. Your dad had invited Joel over for Easter dinner, and you’d stayed in your dress all day to make sure he saw you in it. Joel was certain to show his appreciation.

“Such a pretty dress… such a pretty little bunny…” His fingers tweaked your nipples as he eyed you. “M one lucky old man.”

You giggle. “Thank you, Mr. Miller.”

Joel hummed. He loved when you called him that. Today, he’d had to hide the bonner he was sporting after you greeted him as Mr. Miller in your cute dress, hair all done up… he couldn’t stop thinking how he’d railed you in the church bathroom after Good Friday services… dirty, dirty girl.

Your hand skimmed over your clit at the memory… you might not need any porn this time, you were so turned on, so sensitive… you whimper at the first touch. Cupping your breasts, you try to get the feeling Joel gave when he touched them, but it wasn’t the same. Joel’s hands were large, rough, sure… Still, it felt good touching such sensitive parts of your body, and you sigh. You remember how much Joel praised you on Easter, touch yourself to the echo of his voice.

“Darling, beautiful girl… just look at you, cock dumb girl begging to be fucked with her dad downstairs… surrounded by teddies and pink frilly pillows… act’n like such a good girl, but you ain’t, are yuh?”

“Joooooel” You whine under his touch. “No, I’m a good girl…”

“Nuh-uh” Joel rips open your white tights to find you bare. “Good girls wear underwear to church.” he runs two fingers up your slicked up cunt. “Good girls don’t get wet for grumpy old men.”

You plunge two fingers into your core quickly dissatisfied so you add another. That makes you moan. You begin to pump them in and out of yourself, nowhere near as thick and god, not hitting close to how deep Joel hits you, when he fucks you raw. It’s wholly unsatisfying, but you were just getting started.

Joel finger fucked you, his two middle fingers pumping you at a rapid pace. “Naughty, naughty girl, little cunt clenching on my fingers… I can feel how tight you're getting, but you can’t cum yet… you wanna behave, don’t you? Or are you just as bad as I thought you were… Jesus Christ darl’n, can’t wait to get my cock up my bunny girl's guts again, shit, ‘m gonna miss you.”

Sarah was graduating college next year, and Joel was taking her on a road trip for a few weeks to tour colleges. Tommy had joked, saying he could ‘take care of yuh’ while he’s gone but Joel smacked him upside the head.

“Joel” you whimper. “I think… fuck… I think I’m gonna pee”

Instead of getting off you, Joel grinned. “Keep hold’n, baby… Ima take care of you.”

You stuff your cunt full of four fingers, just trying to get a taste of what Joel left you with, a bit of that memory. Chanting his name, ‘Joel, Joel, Joel’ You chase that high that’s starting to build in your stomach. You remember how he fingered you, how he kissed your neck, arms, stomach, legs, every single inch of your body he loved so much.

“Joel!” You try to warn him again, but he’s not listening. Instead, he brings his face close to your dripping hole.

“Let it go, sweet bunny, let go.”

Fuck. He edged you for 20 minutes, even as your mom walked past your door gossiping on the phone about Mrs. McKenzie’s nose ring. You’d warned him, now he’d deal with the consequences. Can’t be as bad as when you’d thrown up on him after St. Patrick's Day.

But when you let go, you cum. It’s hard, liquid shooting out of your body but it didn’t feel like pee. Your legs shake, body seizing up in shock from the sheer force of your orgasm. Joel laps it up, hungrily devouring your, drinking you up like you were communion wine.

Vibrator on your clit, you remember how Joel ate you out as you came, grinding his hips against the bed, small little moans escaping his pretty little mouth, he bucked and licked and humped and sucked, growling when you stopped and eating you out until you came again, desperately biting your lip to not scream his name. Here in your apartment, in your own bed that Joel carried up here on Presidents Day, you could scream if you wanted to. And you did. Your orgasm hitting you, you keep the vibrator to the exact pressure it was at and ride out your orgasm wishing it was on Joel’s face.

Joel kissed you, his soaking wet face and beard all over yours as you lay there in shock, completely spent from the orgasm.

“What…” You pant. “Was that…”

Joel couldn’t keep his mouth off your skin very long, only barely managing to mumble that you squirted. “Such a good girl, oh my god, I was wrong, you’re just, fuuuuck, such a good fuck’n girl…”

You smile against him. “You gonna fuck me or what, Mr. Miller?”

Joel ground his crotch against yours. Wet. “Your little stunt make me cum in my pants like I’m a fuck’n teenager again, yuh lil brat.” He flicked a tit playfully.

Once every last bit of pleasure was exhausted, when you had cum your hear out to the thought of Joel fucking Miller between your legs, loudly and proudly. You sit up and smile at the phone at you pillow, still recording. You make sure to save the voice note in messenger, then cue it up to send it to Joel.

Sweet Thing: Use headphones, don’t open around Sarah ;)

*Send* You fall back on your bed, smiling.

“Joel?” Your dad called along with your name, making you startle. “I know you’re in there!”

You look to Joel in a panic, eyes wide and scared. Not scared of your dad, perse, he was good natured. Scared of disappointing him.

Your dad again. “Your boots are still at the door and it’s too muddy to go outside without em, open the damn door.”

Joel turned to you, whispering. “I’ll take the fall, it was my idea.”

You and Joel both stand, looking more proper. Joel’s black pants covered the fact he came in them, and your dress covered your ripped tights“Joel, no-” But he cut you off with a stern look.

“Ima take care of you, darl’n, understand?”

You nod. Joel unlocks the door and your dad steps in, arms crossed. “I know what you two are doing.”

Joel steps forward. “Listen man, it ain’t her fault.”

Your dad held out a hand. “Hey, I don’t care if you guys smoke weed together.”

You blink. He thought you were sneaking off together for a blunt? “Oh… you don’t?” You don’t smoke weed. Joel does, but you never found much interest.

“Nah,” He waved his hand. “Just do it behind the garage, okay? It ain’t legal here yet. The neighbors can see your window from here.”

Joel cleared his throat. “Right, right, thanks man.”

“Thanks dad, sorry.”

Your dad chuckled. “I’m the cool dad, remember!”

Your dad was absolutely not cool, but he was fun. A good dad. And you and Joel dodged a bullet, but you needed to be more careful. You run off to pretend to smoke a blunt.

SORRY IM LATE YALL LMFAOOOOO

Lum to me: Are you not doing the holiday Joel series anymore ;-;?

Me: Did I miss a holiday?

YEAH JUST EASTER I GUESS

I relayed this story to Clem and said "not my fault, I don't celebrate easter anyway, Jesus means nothing to Jews"

Clem "DIDN"T YOU CELEBRATE EASTER FOR A CHUNK OF YOUR LIFE?"

She's right! but she didn't have to say it :((((((( lmfaooooo

Anyway I did a new chapter of this AND and new Room's on fire so, y'all'er welcome XD

Check out my upcoming pride event!

hugs!

Im phasing out my taglist, so make sure to follow @romana-updates

@fandxmslxt69 @runa-falls @k-ra @ahookedheroespureheart @mikaelak @littlenosoul @stevenandmarcslove @pikapuff-316 @del-ightfulling @faretheeoscar @harriedandharassed @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @milly-louise @casa-boiardi @joeldjarin @mrs-oharaxx @pedge-page @readingiskeepingmegoing @survivingandenduring

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cheolhub · 1 year ago

Text

MEANT TO BE YOURS — JEON WONWOO ࿐

summary. lying to your boyfriend about being sexually experienced has you stressed beyond belief. it’s a good thing your roommate— aka your best friend— is always there to help you out of every sticky situation.

wc. 7.2k+

warnings. [PLEASE READ THESE!] slight yandere themes (tame obsession, possessiveness, mentions of k1lling reader’s bf, etc.), corruption kink, virginity loss, f. masturbation, cheating (don’t do this), perv!wonu, NEEDY, DESPERATE dom!wonwoo, fingering, heavy praise, pet names (a lot ^^), very light degradation, so much dirty talk (literal filth), unprotected sex, size kink (if u blink, u miss it), kinda angsty ending (oops) — MINORS DNI 18+

note. ok so it’s finally here :p a few things— happy birthday wonwoo, my beloved <3 thank u keir @jeonghantis for reading this over for me, always reassuring me and being my literal rock. i luv u so so much ^^ lastly, this contains cheating which i do NOT condone, nor do i want to glamorize it. it’s simply for the sake of the plot. oj that’s all <3 i worked hard so pls enjoy it >< (if u dont, u should just lie to me anyway)

you were perfect. so sweet and so innocent. you were a doll in the eyes of wonwoo, with skin so smooth against his calloused hands and a smile so perfect, he can’t help but melt at the sight of it.

his adoration for you was obviously in moderation, he’s a sensible man after all. it’s not like he’d stand over you while you sleep and watch the way your barely-clothed chest rises up and falls down so enticingly or fuck his fist and imagine it’s your tight-virgin cunt milking him for all he’s worth or steal a pair of lace panties and absolutely ruin them. you’re his best friend not to mention his roommate. he can’t do things like that— it’s wrong.

so why does it feel so fucking good to imagine how sweet your moans would sound while he fucks you senseless, “wonwoo! wonwoo!”

wonwoo maintains his cool even in the most unfavorable moments. when you leave your shared bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around your chest, when you walk around in silky night shorts, when you press your tits flush against him every time you give him a hug— it’s too much sometimes.

he can't be angry, though, it’s not like you know any better.

just like how you don't know how loud you’re being when you have one dainty little finger shoved inside your sopping pussy. he watches through the tiny crack of your door with his bottom lip lodged between his teeth, just slight of drawing blood. he sees how your eyes are screwed shut and your back is arched as you inconsistently try to fuck a single finger in and out of you.

the room is filled with desperate huffs and moans, bouncing between the four walls of his old gaming room; it all rushes straight to wonwoo’s cock.

you sound so needy and he can tell you’re growing frustrated at the lack of results. you’re craving release, he can tell–

and he wants to help you. so bad.

he has to, right? that’s his job as a dutiful best friend— taking care of his pretty girl. plus, it’s not like he’s really doing anything wrong. he likes to think he’s just doing you a huge favor.

he steps away from the door before knocking quietly, hearing the halt in moans and jostling of the white bedsheets he’s memorized the scent of. he stifles a laugh, imagining how hot your face must be knowing that you’re easily flustered.

“just a second!” you pant and he’s so caught up in thought that he almost misses your soft voice, “okay…you can come in.” it’s as if you’re embarrassed, but you have no reason to be. it’s just him, your roommate. your best friend. your wonwoo.

he finds that he was right. as soon as he walked in, he noticed your embarrassed face and he could almost feel the heat radiating from your body.

“won?”

his cock throbs in his loose plaid pajama pants at the name you had given him ages ago. “Y/N, i-i just wanted to check on you… heard noises when i was passing by your room,”

“oh…” you mumble, gripping the comforter covering your body. you’re sheepish, shrugging at his concern. “thought you were out with gyu.”

your words are barely audible. you’re too humiliated to tell him what you were doing and, not to mention, how you were probably, most likely doing it incorrectly.

“nah,” he shakes his head, reverting the conversation back to the massive elephant in the room. “anything on your mind?” he tries, moving to sit on the bed next to you.

you sigh, cracking the unfazed facade you wore. tears form on your lash line; you’re beyond embarrassed. mortified, if you will. this is probably the worst possible thing to happen in all your years of living.

no, this is the worst thing to happen to you in all your years of living– nothing will ever beat you getting caught masturbating incorrectly by your best friend.

“wonwoo…” you sniffle and he immediately stiffens at the unanticipated sound. “i just… my… boyfriend wants to start doing stuff with me and i lied ‘n told him that i’ve done stuff before, but i haven’t ‘n—“

“hey…breathe, Y/N,” he shushes, reaching over to wipe the tears from your eyes. as much as he’s concerned with your feelings, he can’t help but pause—boyfriend? since when did you have a fucking boyfriend? he knew you were going on dates and meeting guys, and of course he didn’t like it, but he thought they were flings that would eventually fizzle out. why wasn’t he aware of this dick? his chest bubbles with newfound jealousy and discontent. without a doubt, he’d kill the first ill-mannered fucker he saw put his hands on you.

however, he plays dumb to hide the fact. “what type of stuff are we talking about?”

you bite back a whine, a small pout forming on your face, “you know what stuff, won, don’t make me say it.”

he chuckles, airily, shaking his head. yes, of course he knows, but he wants to hear you say it. wants to hear you say filthy things with your innocent voice that he simply can’t get enough of. “i don’t know what you’re going on about. for all i know, we could be talking about drugs,”

you let out a giggle, playfully smacking his shoulder. “no!” you tell him and he gives you an expectant look. one that screams tell me.

your laughter dies down and you fall silent for a few seconds. you inhale sharply, “wonwoo… he… he wants to have sex with me,” you mutter, completely catching him off guard. “and i lied about having experience… i’ve never even touched myself,” you say unwarranted, feeling your cheeks heat up in mortification once again. you hide your face in your hands after exposing yourself to your more-mature, experienced best friend. “god, i’m such a loser,”

“hey, don’t say that. there’s nothing wrong with being inexperienced. none of that’s important if you love someone.” the same way he loves you. “plus, a lot of guys like inexperienced girls.” he murmurs, mostly speaking for himself, though the only inexperienced girl– girl, in general– he likes is you.

a sigh escapes your lips at his words, “but… i don’t wanna be inexperienced. i wanna know what i’m doing and how to do it right…i wish i was more like you,” you frown, removing your hands to look at him, confusion prevalent on his face. “you seem like you’re so good at everything when it comes to… that…kinda stuff…”

his throat dries, “h-how would you even know that?”

“well, i mean…you’re not exactly the quietest, wonwoo,”

wonwoo is shocked, honestly. he knew he had a handful of hookups and one night stands, but he never thought you would’ve known that.

besides, he always imagined them to be you riding him, crying for him. as much as he loves getting his dick wet, he would never see another girl again if it meant even one chance with you.

it's a stretch. a big one, but if he could give you the earth, he would– in a single heartbeat with no hesitation whatsoever. “well… then do you want me to maybe… show you? what it’s like…? give you a good first experience?”

your body freezes and your eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights. sure, you’ve always found your best friend attractive, but you figured that couldn’t be helped. you knew you never had a chance, not when he had an endless line of girls who would do anything for just one night with him.

wonwoo is the definition of womanizer, he always has been. for as long as you could remember, girls would throw themselves at him and praise him like he was some kind of god. in some ways, you thought he was.

in all fairness, he was gorgeous and tall and strong. a catch, as some girls would say. he smelled good, too. so good it makes your head spin and your body flood with heat. and he had that rare smile– the one he’d only show the ones he loved– and it was blindingly beautiful. it was a smile that made you feel blessed. a smile that made you feel lucky because you were always on the receiving end– wonwoo always smiled at you.

he never pursued as many girls as you thought he would have. you always figured that’s what guys liked– all of the girls fawning over them– but wonwoo was so different. he didn’t like the attention that much, but, unfortunately for him, that’s what comes with being as handsome as he is.

you knew he was out of your league. he was everything a girl would want and what were you in a sea of girls? a sea of girls with loads of experience and confidence, for that matter.

you were just lucky to have him in your life because he really was such a good friend. he’s always been so protective of you since he met you all those years ago through a mandatory math tutoring session. nothing could ruin the image you have of him– not even the ear-splitting moans of the girls he fucks. you want nothing but for him to be your friend forever.

and maybe you have imagined… once or twice… what it would be like to be one of the obnoxiously loud girls in his bed, but that didn’t mean you wanted it… did it?

you try to play it off to see if he was pulling another one of his typical stunts on you. “wonwoo, this isn’t funny—“

“i‘m being serious,” he says so earnestly, leaning into you, the proximity between the two of you quickly closing. you feel like you should pull back, tell him to stop, kick him out— anything— but you just can’t. “lemme help you, sweetheart… i‘ll show you how to feel good,” his minty breath fans over your face.

your body twitches, feeling a soft pulse in your lower region when the familiar pet name falls from his lips. your pace of breath quickens along with your heartbeat.

“is…isn’t this wrong?” you ask. you want to scold your brain for wanting to do this with your best friend whom you live with. not to mention the fact that you also have a boyfriend.

yes, you think, this is totally and completely wrong.

he shakes his head, “it’s not, promise, ‘m just helping a friend out… only if you’ll let me,” his voice hushes to a whisper as his hand pulls the comforter off your body, a large hand moving to take a hold of your waist, the other on your bare thigh extremely close to the thin pink fabric of your absolutely-soiled panties.

you’re left panting at the little contact, skin itching for even more. “wonwoo…” you whisper and it’s absolutely desperate. “wonwoo, w-what will i tell him?”

he feels his blood boil and he has to keep from snapping at the mere mention of that son of a bitch. he doesn’t even know him and, even still, he wants to bash his head in. “you don’t have to tell him anything,” he responds to you sweetly despite how angry and desperate he is.

you won’t have to do a thing. he’ll take care of everything for you, especially that boyfriend of yours.

you contemplate your options, but it’s getting harder to have a coherent thought with his warm hand being so incredibly close to your needy pussy.

wonwoo is just helping you, he even said it himself. if anything, he’s getting you out of the sticky situation you made for yourself.

and so you nod your head, whimpering out the words. “okay wonwoo… please help me,”

unbeknownst to you, wonwoo was hoping you’d say that. hoping you’d let him help you stretch you out (not for your boyfriend, but for him). help you take his cock. help you cum all over him and corrupt your pretty body. he’ll help you leave your boyfriend and realize that wonwoo is all you’ll need. all you’ll want. all you’ll know. he’ll help you, his best friend, his pretty girl, his fucking dream.

your words trigger something in his brain and it’s all he needs before closing the gap between the two of you. the way he practically pounces on you and slots your lips together, it’s similar to a predator going after its prey.

it’s apparent you’re not as skilled as him as your lips struggle to keep up, whimpering at how rough he was being. you open your mouth a little bit to tell him to slow down, but instead, he pushes his tongue inside and explores the warmth and wetness of your mouth.

and he can’t slow down. he can usually keep his composure and control himself, but you don’t even know how long he’s been waiting for this moment. if only you knew the perverted things your best friend had done without your knowledge, there’s no way you’d let him anywhere near you. he can’t stop, tongue inspecting every inch of your mouth until he feels your hands press flat against his chest in an attempt to push him away.

your swollen lips turn into a pout staring into his eyes filled with hunger and desire. “won,” you say, a lilt to your angelic voice. fuck, is all wonwoo can think as he finally realizes how hard and leaky his cock is after all this time. “can’t keep up…”

he almost feels bad, but every time he feels remorse it’s overshadowed by the burning desire to hear you, feel you, see you cum… just for him, not your silly little boyfriend, that fucking asshole. he needs you to be his.

“‘m sorry, pretty girl,” he pants, hands inching up your upper thigh. “i‘ll slow down, yeah?” his voice drips with desperation and, god, you feel your pussy flooding with more of your warm arousal.

you nod, leaning into him again, pressing a kiss against his lips. his lips are soft as they mold into yours, nothing like what you’re used to. you couldn’t even compare wonwoo’s lips to anything– not even your boyfriend.

you feel heat course your veins. everything is so hot, the room feels like it’s on fire. when did it get so hot? you want to hide in his neck, in your pillow, in something, but wonwoo gives you no room to be shy.

the intrusive thoughts are cut short when you feel his warm hand slide into your panties, a deep gasp escaping your lips. his fingers quickly find your hardened clit, untouched and desperate for attention. the initial touch has shockwaves jolting through your body and you swear you won’t be able to survive anything more than that.

you part your lips from him as his two fingers rub swift circles into your clit, timid whines and moans erupting from your chest and your eyes practically taped shut as you feel his burning gaze on your face. it’s when your hips unintentionally begin to move, grinding into his hand, softly moaning his name out, “wonwoo!” that he loses it.

“fuck,” he mutters, removing his hand and watching your face of pleasure turn into complete shock. he ignores your whiny protests, gently pushing you to lay on your back. “shhh, baby, trust me. gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good, don’t you worry.”

his hands peel the panties off you, rolling them off your legs and inspecting them– they’re new. you don’t need to know that he knows, though. especially since he is the reason you needed to get more.

nonetheless, he tosses them to the side. you’re sure if your judgment wasn’t clouded by the new overwhelming craving you have for pleasure, your body would burn in humiliation due to being exposed to your best friend. the same best friend who’s always been there for you and seen you at your very worst, yet continues to be there for you when you need him.

with hearts in his eyes, he stares at your glistening cunt, “jesus christ,” he murmurs, “prettiest fucking pussy in the world, might have to keep you all to myself.” he knows the words are going through one ear and out the other, but the way you moan and arch your back for a single touch eggs him on.

“wonwoo,” you whimper softly.

“yes, baby, what do you need?” he knows exactly what you need. you need him to rub your clit, press his fingers into your tight pussy and open you up, and you especially need him to tell you how well you’re doing– he fucking knows, but he needs to hear you say it. he needs your pretty little mouth to tell him.

you pant, pussy getting wetter by the second solely off the pet names and wonwoo’s voice alone. “need you to help me like you promised… please help me…”

and he can’t resist when you sound so needy. he’s 99% sure he could cum untouched just at the sight of you under him with tears in your eyes while you beg for him to touch you. you’re so perfect, so so perfect and he doesn't understand how no one has taken you away from him yet.

“you want my fingers, sweetheart? want me to help you open up this pretty cunt for my cock?” he asks hotly, leaning in closer to your body.

you gasp at his words, your leaky hole clenching around nothing. “god, yes, yes, wonwoo, yes,” you nod your head vigorously, shyness fleeing your body as you're taken over by pure need. “please gimme your fingers.”

he smirks at your words and his dick twitches at the request. he knows this moment will replay in his head during every second of the day till he can have you like this again.

“good girl,” he whispers, pressing a peck to your swollen lips and keens when you chase him for another with a whimper. “brace yourself for me… might sting a little, but it’ll feel really good after a while. tell me if you need me to stop, hmm?”

you nod your head, stomach swirling with endless amounts of anticipation. the calloused pad of his thumb finds your clit, rubbing into it once more. you figure it’s to distract you from the feeling of his lengthy digit pressing into your hole.

a whine erupts from your throat at the tiny stretch that stings throughout your body. you take a deep breath, trying to relax as wonwoo pushes the finger in and out at a slow and steady pace.

“doing so well for me, pretty. promise it’ll feel good when you get used to it,” he reassures with a tight-lipped smile as if he’s getting ready to burst at any given moment.

that’s probably because he is. watching your tight pussy swallow his finger and wrap so nicely around him has him reeling. he thinks about what it’d be like to watch his cock disappear inside of you, for your velvet walls to wrap around him like you were made just for his cock.

luckily, the sting fades away sooner than you thought it would, just as wonwoo had promised. your tiny whimpers of pain were soon replaced by pleasured moans, and he can tell that you’re ready for more of his fingers.

he pulls out his middle finger to bring two of them together. you gasp in surprise feeling the pads of his two fingers circle at your entrance before they push their way inside of you.

it hurts more than the first finger, you have to admit, but you take him in easily with the amount of arousal that pools out of your pussy. you pant, whines dying on your tongue as you feel the burning stretch. you don’t tell him to stop, though, not like you’d want to.

wonwoo’s close to losing it. he can feel the way you clench around his fingers, almost like you're trying to push him out but suck him in at the same time. you’re so fucking tight and he thinks he must be in heaven. you’re the last thing he deserves, yet here you are, swallowing his big fingers in your pretty, virgin cunt.

he gradually spreads his fingers, opening you up and the experimental move has you moaning. “that feel alright?” he asks almost breathlessly.

you give him a broken nod, “feels weird… b-but good.” you attempt to inform.

you’re sheepish for a few minutes as he’s slowly scissoring his fingers inside of you, but the question comes out before your hazy mind can fully comprehend. “c-can you try three?” it comes out a bit slurred and timid, but wonwoo understands. he completely understands.

he wants, so badly, to fuck you stupid. to the point where you don’t know how to speak. he wants to call you his greedy slut for wanting more even though it makes him see red. he opts out, though, not wanting your first time to be tainted with degrading words because he knows you’re good. a good girl just for him. no one else.

“oh, baby,” he coos, body filling with even more need. he presses his ring finger inside of you and basking in your cry all the while purring, “you’re doing so fucking well for me.”

you involuntarily clench at his words, back slightly arching off the bed as you moan. “wonwoo.”

he lets out a guttural moan at the sound of his name on your tongue. it’s the way he’s heard it in his dreams, the dreams where he’s ruining you for everyone else.

wonwoo knows he’s crazy, trust, he knows. he understands the way he feels about you is abnormal, but fuck, right now? he feels absolutely, postively insane.

“god, you’re so gorgeous,” he whispers, his mind slowly drifting. “so fucking pretty taking my fingers like this, taking ‘em like a champ.”

he thrusts his fingers into you with ease, stretching you effectively while being sure to rub at your sweet spot. he watches them disappear and reappear at your opening while also stealing glances at your scrunched up face. you’re such an angel.

after a while, the burning sting leaves and you’re left with an immense pleasure. you didn’t think it would get any better, but there’s an unfamiliar pressure building in your tummy and you feel the need to clamp down on his digits. it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before and you swear you’re on the brink of pure ecstasy.

“wonwoo… wonwoo,” you gasp, hand blindly searching for his wrist as your eyes screw closed. “f-feels…weird… fuck! wonwoo!”

and wonwoo jus can’t. he can’t let you cum like this for the first time, it would be a crime. when you cum for the first time, he needs it to be on his cock.

he hates himself for doing so, but his movements stop. you gasp loudly, “no, no, no!” you cry out, tears forming in your eyes. you were so close, but it was unfairly taken away from you in a matter of seconds. “no, no, please keep going, please!”

“i want your first time to be on my cock, sweetheart, want you to remember it that way.” he says with his voice low. so low you can hear the beautiful rasp of his voice. “you want that don’t you? you want my cock, yeah?”

you nod profusely, face heating up at his words and the way he articulates them. “y-yes… i do.” you mumble.

“that’s a good girl.”

you moan at the praise, hips bucking up again as he stands to slip off his loose pjs. when they fall, his hard cock slaps against his covered abdomen and you feel your heart skip a beat at his size.

you gasp, sitting up as your sensitive cunt pulses once more. it’s so fucking pretty. you’ve heard your girl friends talk about how ugly and gross dicks were, a conversation that you never had input for, but after seeing wonwoo’s, you know they haven’t been blessed with the sight of one like his.

he’s huge, for starters. it makes your tummy churn and swirl because you know he won’t be able to fit inside of you— not all at once at least. it’s long with prominent veins running through. the tip is flushed and leaky and he looks so hard it hurts.

“won’t fit,” you whimper slowly gravitating towards him at the edge of your bed, eyes not leaving the throbbing member. “it’s not gonna fit, won,” you look up at him through your lashes and his entire body twitches as he looks down at your doe eyes.

“and how do you know that?” he grabs your face with one of his hands, squishing your cheeks with his pointer and thumb finger. “you can take it, baby, don’t worry. i’ll be gentle.”

the tone of his voice drops an octave, and this time, you don’t believe him. there is something predatory about his words that makes you squirm and gush under his gaze. you don’t think he’ll be gentle, the way he looks at you like… it’s like he’s about to have his last meal.

and, honestly, you find that you love it. you love having him look at you like he’s yours and your his. you love his attention. you love having him like this.

he pushes you back again, your back hitting the plush bed. you bite your lip as you see him join and tower over you. he flashes a smile and you slowly melt and wither away under him, body squirming a bit.

he looks in between your bodies and realizes he’s not wearing a condom. his face drains of color at the thought of your cunt taking his cock bare. “sweetheart… wait,”

your eyes widen and your lips form into a small pout, “what is it? what’s wrong?”

“need to get a condom,” he huffs and it’s apparent that he’s not very happy about the idea. he’s always worn one. every time. with every girl he’s ever been with. but every single time he’s imagined taking you, it was without one. he wants nothing in the way between you and him, but, of course, he needs to respect you and think about your safety. no matter how bad he wants it.

you furrow your eyebrows, “...why?” you whisper.

this time, he mirrors your confused look. you’re a virgin, sure, but you must know what a condom is. “what do you mean why, angel? it’s pro–”

you shake your head, cutting him off. “i mean, why do you need it? are you… not clean?” you ask worriedly.

“no, of course i am!”

“well, don’t leave me here,” you mumble. “‘m on the pill now, so you should be fine without one… now, please? wanna feel like i did before… wanna feel all of you…”

wonwoo now knows he’s died. he’s died and now he’s in paradise. you, and all your beauty, laying under him with the prettiest pout, begging for him. for his cock. raw. everything he’s dreamed of is about to come true... if he doesn’t cum first.

“god,” he mutters. he takes his length in his hand, stroking himself before lining up with your entrance. “you want my cock then?” he whispers, dragging the tip up and down your messy folds.

“yeah, please… go slow…”

he lets out a shaky breath, nodding his head before guiding himself back to your dripping hole. he inhales sharply, pushing himself inside, immediately entranced by the feeling of your warmth enveloping him whole.

you wince letting out a soft cry of his name. he pushes past the resistance and you feel him taking something that’s been so sacred for as long as you could remember, but if you’re being transparent you couldn’t be happier that it’s him. you wouldn’t want anyone else to be in this position.

“fuck, baby,” he grunts with his raspy, deep voice that makes you clench even tighter around him. “fuck, so fucking tight, baby. so perfect.” he can barely trust his voice. it’s barely been five minutes, but he swears on everything he’s never felt this good before.

you’re not even sure his fingers helped you enough because the stretch is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. “hurts…” you whimper out, eyes screwed close to keep the pained tears from falling.

he bites his lip to suppress a moan at the sight of you like this, instead asking, “you good, baby? need me to pull out?” he’ll die if you do, so he hopes you answer against the idea.

“n-no,” you pant, trying to breathe your way through the pain. “j-just go slow…s’big, feel too full,” you reply, brain unable to give him complete sentences.

his eyes almost roll at your broken words. “i know, baby, i know. you’re doing so well for me, hm? takin’ it well all for me,” he manages to tell you even though he’s twitching like he might explode within the next 30 seconds.

his praise makes you gasp as you arch your back, a new gush of arousal coating his hard length. when wonwoo speaks to you like this, it makes your head fog. the validation and praise and the lovingness behind it all makes you want to have him forever. you want him to speak to you like you're his baby forever.

it almost makes you forget that this is just a favor. that you have a boyfriend and he has a sea of gorgeous women lined up for him. almost.

after a few more minutes of slowly inching his way inside you, he finally bottoms out. you’re already a bit sore from the stretch, but the pain recedes and he fits like a glove. like he was made to be inside you and you were made to take him and all of his glory. it only riles you up, your pussy tightening around him even more.

he groans out your name, “fuck, don’t do that or i won’t be able to last, pretty girl.”

“‘m sorry,” you mewl. “can’t help it, feels so good, wonwoo,” you finally open your eyes to look into his. “keep moving please?” you pout, keeping your tears at bay.

he can’t emphasize how close he is to spontaneously combusting and pumping you full just to fuck you over and over again. he wants to fuck you till your pussy’s raw and you’re begging for mercy. he wants to see your pretty tears, hear your cries, see you dripping in sweat and cum.

he doesn’t say anything, pulling out slowly and pushing himself back in. you gasp, hands moving to tug on the fabric of his shirt in attempts to pull it off.

“ah, ah, ah,” wonwoo reprimands. “can’t be the only one without a shirt, baby, you gotta take yours off first.” he smirks at your eagerness.

you nod quickly as you sit up, still so full of him, peeling your flimsy tank top off. you free your chest and wonwoo groans when he finally sees them.

“so pretty…” he mumbles, pushing you back down with a bit more force than you were expecting. one of his hands comes to squeeze the fat, fondling it like he’s wanted to for so long. his cock thrusts into you again a bit faster and you cry again at the stimulation.

“t-take it off!” you beg, reaching for the shirt again.

he chuckles, pulling his shirt off and tossing it to the pile of clothes on the floor. once you see his skin, your arms immediately wrap around his neck pulling him down for a kiss. you imitate the actions of your first kiss earlier, opening your mouth to let his tongue in. you let him sloppily makeout with your own.

it’s messy. a newfound experience for you. you’ve never had a kiss like this– never had a kiss where it felt like you were about to get swallowed whole. you’ve never had a kiss filled with so much passion, a kiss so loud where you’re moaning into someone's mouth and they’re moaning into yours so lustily. it’s your first. wonwoo’s your first for many it seems.

wonwoo can’t say he’s never had a messy kiss because he’s had plenty. maybe a few too many. but, unbeknownst to you, he’s never felt so eager for anyone in all his years of knowing you– lusting after you. he wants this so bad. he wants you so fucking bad it’s making his throat constrict, his abdomen tighten, his dick twitch as it’s surrounded by your warm walls.

his cock fills you up so well and you feel like there’s a big possibility that you may get addicted to the feeling. now that the pain has subsided, you can feel the prominent veins pressing into your velvety walls. you can feel every twitch and his bulbous head rubbing right against that spot that’s turning your brain into mush.

“fuck, baby, you’re so good,” he moans into your mouth, thrusts increasing in pace.

“love it when you call me that,” you admit, mindlessly. you pull him in closer, nails digging into his back, imprinting red crescent shapes in the skin.

he lets out a guttural groan, breaking from the kiss and looking into your teary eyes. “you like being my good little baby, huh?” he asks breathlessly and when you whine and clench around him, he chuckles. “i can tell, angel, pretty pussy is loving my cock– swallowing all of me like such a good slut.”

he didn’t mean to say it, but when the words slip out, your eyes widen. his expression mirrors yours and his speed falters. your pulse thumps erratically and you’re sure your heart is going to lurch out of your chest, teeth catching your bottom lip, biting and digging into the pillowy muscle.

“i didn’t mean–”

“keep going…” you whisper, hooking your legs around his waist to pull him into you and return to his prior pace. “oh, won, please keep going.” your begs make him reel.

your pupils are completely blown out now. like you’ve taken some type of drug and you’re feeling the euphoric effects of it all. you can’t wrap your head around why you feel the way you do because of one degrading word.

jesus christ, he thinks to himself. he has to be in love. you’re so greedy, so much potential to be his gorgeous girl. he thinks you’re perfect for him– no, he knows you’re perfect for him. he’s confident with the way he fits in you and the way you trust him with your body. he can’t even care to think about your stupid boyfriend. you’re his now. his to fuck stupid and pump full of cum. his to punish and praise and pleasure. he’ll turn you into his own little cockhungry slut.

his thoughts get the best of him as he nearly blacks out at the idea of you being his. his hips snap against yours with a particularly harsh thrust and he feels his tip kissing your cervix and you sob out, “fuh-fuck!”

and at the sound of your sobs and pleads and curses, he feels as if he can’t restrain himself any longer. he sits up on his knees, hands grabbing at your waist with a vice-like grip that will likely result in splats of purple bruises the next morning. not like either of you could give a fuck. he relentlessly pounds into you, balls lewdly slapping against your sloppy cunt without a care in the world.

your cries and his groans plus all the pornographic sounds your bodies make together fill the room, bouncing off your cutely decorated walls. he can tell you’re going to cum soon when your breathing picks up, watching the way your chest rises and falls at an alarming rate.

you suddenly remember how you felt right before he had snatched his fingers from you earlier. you can feel it creeping back up, the fiery knot in your tummy tightening. your hand finds the sensitive bud wonwoo was toying with earlier, gently rubbing circles into it.

he notices immediately and grunts. “such a greedy girl already, aren’t you? i’ve ruined you.” ruined you for everyone else and it’s been the best thing he’s ever done, he fails to add.

you nod, tears dripping down the sides of your face. “g-god!”

“not quite, baby.” he chuckles breathily. “gonna cum for me? hmm, baby? gonna soak my cock for the first time like the good little slut you are?” he rambles, his own orgasm– that he’s held back all this time– quickly approaching.

you mewl at the mixed praise and degradation once more, fingers working faster as your brain numbs. “oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” you slur. “oh, ‘m gonna… wonwoo, ‘m gonna–!”

the words die on your tongue– the stimulation on your clit and the stimulation of his cock ramming into your sweet spot has you coming all over him. your back arches and your thighs convulse as you clamp around his cock. a squealing mantra of his name and curses flee your mouth as the tightrope in your tummy snaps.

you don’t think you’ve ever felt anything as euphoric in your life. it feels so good to let go and gush all over his cock while he fucks you through your orgasm so erratically. you can tell he’s close, too. a few more seconds and he’ll be making a mess.

“ah, fuck– ‘m so close, baby, pretty pussy’s milking me for all i’m worth,” he moans out the warning. “love it so much.” he loves you so much.

you can barely hear a noise, let alone comprehend any of his words, so you just nod frantically as your sensitive body twitches under him sporadically.

his thrusts go sloppy and before you know it, he pulls out, making you whine at the sudden emptiness. “fuck,” he grunts before he’s overtaken by the immense pleasure your pussy’s given him. he moans and lets out small whimpers as he pumps his cock, painting your sheen skin with his warm seed. he throws his head back as he moans out your name, “Y/N, fuck,”

he wishes so badly he could have came inside of you, but he’s going to make sure there’s another opportunity for that. he’ll be damned if he never fucks your cute pussy again.

you whimper at the sudden warm substance on your skin. your eyes crack open to see your stomach covered in a sticky, white liquid– or maybe a mix between liquid and solid. your not sure you know how to describe it.

you look at him as your mind comes to you. his hair disheveled, a few strays sticking to his sweaty forehead and the pace, at which, his chest rises and falls slows till it’s normal once more.

when you come down, you suddenly remember your boyfriend. you were so sure you wanted him till wonwoo looked at you, made you feel special, took your virginity– now, you’re a mess. the mental image of your boyfriend fogs over in your head with words wonwoo whispered to you while he was fucking you.

but you shouldn’t think about it anymore, right? everything was going to go back to normal after tonight, wouldn’t it? wonwoo will ever forgot this happened and he would bring some girl over when he thought you were gone and fuck her the same way he fucked you. you’d go back to thinking about your boyfriend trying to push the thoughts of your best friend making you cum over and over out of your head (it won’t work, but a girl can dream). all will be well. for one of you, at least.

“Y/N?” he mumbles.

you look up at him and give him a small smile, “thanks for your help, won,” you whisper masking the sadness in your voice. “‘m gonna shower…” you don’t wait for his reply before you move off your bed.

your legs are wobbly and your entirety feels sore. he really did a number on you. you whimper with every step you take and wonwoo quickly finds his pants and slips them on before rushing to your side.

“Y/N, c’mon, lemme take care of you.” he murmurs, his hands finding your waist to ground you and keeping your body from hobbling over. “get back on the bed, baby,” he whispers into your ear.

you huff, physically unable to fight him on the matter and shuffling back to your bed uncomfortably. the ache between your legs and the nasty feeling of his release drying on your naked body were not a good mix. then you fucking remembered you were naked. you gasp, startling wonwoo, your arms wrapping around your body in attempts to hide yourself as if he hadn’t fucked you five minutes ago.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, a look of confusion painting his face.

“y-you… i… i’m naked…” you tell him meekly, moving to lay on the bed again. “this… is so weird.”

he smiles softly at your sudden shyness. “back to being shy, are we?” you frown at him and he just laughs heartily, your body filling with even more dread because– god. he’s just perfect and not yours. “‘m only teasing, doll, ‘s okay.”

you don’t reply, awkwardly shifting under his gaze. the pet name sounds so natural. like he’s meant to call you pretty things. like you're meant to be his.

but he’s not yours and you’re not his.

you stutter, words fleeing you in the moment you need them most. “wonwoo… i-i…”

you look like you’re on the brink of tears, guilt wracking your body. wonwoo feels his chest tighten, breath hitching in his dry throat, “Y/N, do you regret it?” he asks, words hushed. he’s anxious.

“no! no, no, i don’t… i don’t regret it. i trust you more than anyone, wonwoo. i promise.” you say meekly and he feels a weight lift off his shoulders. “i just… can we act like it never happened?”

the weight returns. heavier. it nearly crushes him. he couldn’t forget about this even if he’d wanted to. he’s already tattooed every second of tonight into his fuzzy brain. every reaction, every moan, every single word you gave him is all he’ll think about.

he clears his throat, a shaky exhale slipping his lips before asking, “if you don’t regret it then why…?” he can’t even get the question out. he knows the answer. (read: the unnamed boyfriend– the one that he swears he’ll kill the second he meets him.)

you avert your eyes, looking anywhere but at him. “you know why.”

he does.

“and plus, we’re just friends. and roommates. it’ll just be awkward.” you cringe at your words because, unbeknownst to him, you don’t want to forget it. you know you won’t be able to forget it. not the possessive words that he spat during his sex-crazed haze, not the way his cock felt, not the way he looked at you.

he waits for you to look at him, but you don’t. you can’t look at him right now.

“okay.” he says coldly after sitting in deafening silence for over a minute. “consider it forgotten.”

he’ll make you his one of these days. you may not know it yet, but you belong with him. and he’d do anything for you.

#wonwoo smut #svt smut #seventeen smut

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lizardboiii · 5 months ago

Text

At The Tone ┃ DCU

Barry Allen x Spider-Woman!Reader

┃ Summary: Sometimes bad things happen to good people - and that’s where the Justice League comes in. Too bad you weren’t interested.

“Think I forgot how to be happy Something I'm not, but something I can be" Billie Eilish, "What Was I Made For?"

│cw: SFW, alcohol abuse, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief, hurt/comfort, violent themes

│wc: 3.9k

│chapters: One shot

│notes: This fic has been sitting unfinished (with 2k words!!) in my drafts for a WHILE. randomly decided it needed to see the light of day ig. was gonna make it nsfw but i low key hate it and just wanted too move on oops. enjoy <3

・❥・

│One Shot: At The Tone

You have five new messages.

“Good afternoon, Spider-Woman this is Cla-”

You heard a throat clear.

“It’s Superman. I see you still aren’t picking up any of the team’s calls,” He swallowed thickly, “I understand your recent loss was… hard. Something none of us would have wished for anybody.”

You could feel the tension in his voice.

“Please take all the time you need. The league is more than capable of taking care of New York in your absence for the time being.”

The sound of a pen clicking disrupted the message every so often, “But at least give us some indication you're alive…and well. The team cares about you,” He chuckled warmly, “Even “Mr. I Work Alone” Batman himself.”

His laugh dropped abruptly with a soft sigh, “Call me back when you can.”

Beep

You crawled out of bed slowly, dragging your duvet behind you like a cloak. The plush cotton laid heavy on your shoulders. You wondered if this was how Big Blue felt every morning - the weight of knowing everything depending on him once he bore his iconic red cape.

You knew what that weight felt like, and you knew what it felt like to have it all come crashing down.

You have four new messages

“How’s it hanging, Spidy? Haha, you get it?” A dramatic sigh escaped the machine, “Sorry, poor timing.”

He took a moment to regroup, “It's Green Lantern, just calling to check in. Headquarters has been depressing without you. I mean even Martian Manhunter is down in the dumps. It's a total bummer.”

Another sigh, “Listen you don't have to call me back if you don’t want to, but at least let Flash know you're still alive. He needs you more than he lets on.”

Beep

You groaned at the shrill ring of the answering machine. The outdated tech was too cherished to be discarded but the pulsing headaches you received from it almost outweighed the fond memories of Aunt May.

Thoroughly woken up, you entered your kitchenette. Your eyes shifted between the week old coffee pot on your stove to the half empty Hennessy bottle next to it.

Maybe this time you would make the right choice. A sober evening is a good evening. However, the battle was always rigged to begin with and the winner already predetermined.

The Hennessy felt burdensome in your hand as you took a long swig. It burned violently down your throat, eating at your skin, before finally settling warmly in your stomach. Though you hated to admit it, it satisfied you more than any pot of coffee could.

Staggering to your couch, courtesy of one of New York’s finest sidewalks, you flopped down. The cushions were well used and musty. But who were you to pass up a free couch?

You have three new messages

“Spider-Woman.”

There was a lengthy pause.

“Your recent inactivity has caused some concerns regarding your whereabouts. The league seems to be having a hard time focusing on missions with your absence.”

Bats’ uncertainty leaked through the phone as he thought of his next sentence, “You have my condolences, Webs. However, the league cannot continue to work with this distraction. Please report to the Hall of Justice immediately.”

He hesitated, “We are worried.”

Beep

An involuntary snort escaped you. Bats’ attempt at comfort was interesting to say the least. He was surprisingly awkward for a leader of the Justice League. Though you supposed dark and brooding was his brand.

You have two new message

“Greetings, Spider-Woman, Wonder Woman speaking.”

You could hear muffled arguing in the background.

“Batman may have been a bit…straightforward in that last voicemail,” She attempted a fake laugh, “Please do not mind his bluntness, he is merely just as concerned as the rest of us. In his own way at least.”

A loud slam made her curse under her breath.

“I apologize I must go, the “children” are fighting again. Don’t hesitate to call back. See you soon, Webs.”

Beep

Lifting the liquor to your lips, your brows creased when only a drop hit your tongue. Out already?

You let out an exaggerated sigh before placing the empty bottle on your coffee table. A quick glance at your barren pantry told you everything you needed to know. You’d have to go out and get some more. You felt your face scrunch. That means you have to go out in public.

You weighed your options.

You could stay inside and continue to peacefully hide from the world, but you're guaranteed to sober up eventually.

Or you could make a quick trip to the convenience store down the road and pray the minimum wage employee can’t smell the alcohol on you from a mile away.

You hummed thoughtfully. Though, now that you think about it, there’s a off chance you might run into the supe that’s covering your city for the time being. Then again, there’s a very high chance it’s not someone from the Justice League, a member from The Team at best.

Massaging your forehead, you tried to remember the last time a Justice League member took a leave of absence. A blonde goatee flashed in your mind.

That’s right. Green Arrow was out for a while when he got busted up pretty bad. His protégé, Speedy, ended up babysitting Star City in his absence. You bit your lip.

But you didn’t have one of those anymore.

You have one new message

“Hey Webs! Sent me to voicemail again, huh?”

An awkward laugh made the machine crackle.

“Just calling to check up on you. How are you doing? Feeling alright? Just say the word and I can grab you anything from anywhere. I mean literally anywhere. They don’t call me the fastest man alive for nothing!”

You could practically hear the large smile embedded on his face.

A large sigh passed through the speaker, “It’s been a month now. The team misses you…I miss you. A lot actually.”

He paused.

“Just call me back alright? I need to know if you're okay.”

Beep

Your hand paused over your front door handle. Flash’s deep voice was like a siren's call, beckoning you in.

What you’d give to turn around. What you'd do to call him back. It took everything in you to force yourself away from his voice.

Your best friend.

Your confidant.

Your everything.

You have zero new messages

・❥・

You weaved through the bustling sidewalk with a slight wobble, managing to dodge a third of the people you almost crashed into. Night was quickly approaching. That meant the streets were only going to get busier.

More people = More crime = More superheroes.

Fumbling into a dimly lit alley, you avoided Main Street completely. It was too risky. Even in your civilian disguise there was no guarantee your voice wouldn’t be recognized - mainly by your teammates but especially by… Flash.

You recalled how often you sought each other out in the Hall of Justice. Whether it was meddling in the business of others, or simply enjoying the company of one another.

His hand always seemed to find its way to the small of your back. Gently resting. While his thumb delicately circled the thin fabric of your suit.

He leaned in closer than he should. The dull smell of his cologne inevitably picked up by your heightened senses.

It wasn't how friends should behave - but that's all you ever were. Friends.

Thwack!

You slammed yourself against one of the side walls in surprise, extinguishing your mind of complex thoughts. Creeping closer, you cursed in your head when harsh thumps and muffled grunting filled the air.

“Where’s my money, Huey?”

Crack!

“I-I don’t know! Please!”

Whack!

You recognized the tell-tale sound of blood splattering against the ground, akin to paint splashing. The sound made you nauseous. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you thought of your next move.

Now, on any normal occasion you’d swing in all heroic and save the day. But today was different. You were different.

Excuses flooded your brain as you tried to explain to yourself why you felt little desire to help the abused man.

Your suit was at home crammed somewhere in between an ugly Christmas sweater and a latex bodysuit you practically begged Cat Woman not to give you.

Even if you had the energy, you were still considered MIA to the league. You’d basically be spoon feeding them your location.

Your internal dilemma didn’t last long as the pummeling swiftly came to an end. Peaking around the corner, you watched the assistants retreat into an adjacent alley. They moved lazily. Clearly they didn’t expect to be caught.

You could still catch them.

You found yourself making an internal description. Two Caucasian males both wearing black beanies and disgustingly outdated puffer jackets. The taller one sported purple and green. While the shorter preferred yellow.

Your foot shifted before you felt yourself hesitate. Maybe you shouldn’t. They’d probably be caught soon enough anyways.

If anything, the supe covering your city would swoop in and haul their asses to the local jail. Especially when you called an ambulance for the man who was passed out on the ground. It would put this area on tonight's map. You sighed and finally allowed yourself to relax.

This was fine.

Everything was fine.

Shifting your eyes to the ground, you located the poor soul who suffered the attack. His breathing was ragged and wet. You were quick to put two fingers on his neck, checking for a pulse. A wave of relief crashed through you when you felt a steady beating.

Pulling out your phone, you immediately dialed 911 and requested an ambulance, anonymously of course. You stayed with the man until you could hear loud sirens growing closer. Your sign to leave.

Exiting the alleyway, you reached the small convenience store in record time. The adrenaline in your system was starting to make quick work of the alcohol in your bloodstream.

You could feel your senses beginning to come back. Eyes clearer. Ears sharper. You could practically hear the heartbeats of everyone in the store.

Groaning at your misfortune, you beelined for the alcohol section in the back. My god was it beautiful. Itching to return home, you grabbed a random bottle that had the highest percentage. Taste didn’t matter. Only the effect.

Glancing at your selection you choked on your own spit. 30 dollars?? The glass bottle was swiftly put back as you grabbed the cheapest one you could find. Tucking the Shitty K under your arm, you turned to walk to the register.

“PUT YOUR FUCKING HANDS UP, OLD MAN.”

You froze. Extending your neck out, you caught a glimpse of the register.

Purple, green, and yellow.

You had to be fucking kidding.

You watched as the two assailants from the alley held the elderly cashier at gunpoint. His form shook like a leaf.

“Please! Just take the money and leave!”

You caught his eyes as he begged for his life. Tear filled and shaking. You could have prevented this. If you would have just stopped them when you had the chance none of this would have happened.

You could have saved the man in the alley. Saved the poor cashier.

You could have saved Uncle Ben too.

Your eyes watered. Fucking pathetic mistake. What the hell were you doing? You weren’t a teenager anymore. You were a grown adult who should have learned from your mistakes by now.

Shifting your eyes from the vodka to him, you pressed your lips in a thin line. You didn’t know what hurt more. The fact that you were repeating past mistakes or the fact that you wanted to take the more expensive alcohol and leave unnoticed.

When did you become this?

No wonder you let Spider-Girl die.

You needed a drink. Desperately.

Abruptly, a whiplash of red and yellow snatched you from your daydream. The streaking shape blew over the newspaper stand before spinning around the starstruck perpetrators. You knew those McDonald's colors from anywhere.

Kid Flash.

Like any speedster, he removed the gun in milliseconds before tying up the confused robbers. They stood no chance against the meta-human.

Dusting off his hands, Kid Flash smiled smugly at the dumbfounded duo, “Guns aren’t currency, you know?”

The man in yellow thrashed violently, “What the hell-Kid Flash!? Why are you in New York? Spidey taking a break or something?”

You cringed.

Kid Flash’s boyish voice laughed awkwardly, “Something like that.”

You need to get out of here. Now.

Slowly backing into the aisle, you clenched your teeth when your elbow hit the shelf. The bottles tinked in a symphony, altering everyone in the store of your presence. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Instantly, you snatched your coat hood and covered your face and hair. Staring into the grime covered tiles, you prayed Kid Flash wouldn’t think too much of it.

“Hello?”

Of course. The one time he’s actually thorough.

“Are you alright?”

Bright yellow boots came into your vision as you tried to conceal yourself further. You hunched into yourself with clenched fists. Mistaking your actions for something else, Kid Flash placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, hey it’s okay! You don’t have to be sacred!”

You bite into your lip eager to escape the conversation, “I’m not. Please let go.”

Kid Flash laughed, sounding a little too similar to Flash in your opinion. Removing his hand from your shoulder, he stood next to you with his hands on his hips.

“Then why are you hiding?” A red glove entered your vision. It was headed straight for your hood.

You slapped his hand away, “Didn’t your parents tell you not to talk to strangers.”

He shrugged, “That rule doesn’t really apply to superheroes.”

You couldn’t contain the breathy laugh that left your throat. You hate to admit it but you actually really missed the kid.

However, you failed to realize your mistake. If anyone knew your laugh it was Kid Flash. You spent way too much time around him and Flash for him not too.

There was a long pause.

“…Webs?”

You flinched hard, “Wrong person.” You internally cursed at yourself for the obvious slur in your voice.

“Are you drunk?”

“…No.”

His hand grabbed your upper arm tightly, “Where have you been? Are you okay?”

You gently pulled against his hold, attempting to break free without force, “I’m fine.”

“No you aren’t,” Kid Flash raised his hand to his ear piece, “Just let me notify Flash-”

“NO!”

Your arm flew up to the communicator without thought. Taking advantage of his surprise, you were able to snatch the high tech earpiece from his loosen grip.

“Hey!”

Kid Flash grabbed at you. His lanky limbs attempting to reclaim his lost device, “Let go!”

“You let go!” You shoved his face away with the palm of your hand.

Kid Flash merely continued to grab at the air around you, “Never!”

If this was any other situation you would have laughed. The pair of you looked like children fighting over the last dessert.

However, this wasn't just any situation. This situation involved Flash.

“Listen to your elders you brat!” Finally, after a well fought struggle, you managed to hold the device out of arm's reach. A much needed success after the month you've had-

“Webs?”

You halted in your tracks.

The small communicator in your hand blinked on and off, identifying an unstable signal.

“Webs is that you?” Flash was urgent, “Wait there! I'm coming-”

You crushed the device in your hand. Terrified.

Small fragments engraved themselves into your skin, dotting your hand red. What have you done?

“Batman’s gonna kill you for that, you know?” Kid Flash laughed in an attempt to lighten the mood.

You frowned, uninterested in entertaining him. Kid Flash merely smiled awkwardly. It was evident the boy was taken aback by your unusually serious demeanor.

The thought didn't take up much space in your mind. You could only think of one thing. When would Flash decide to appear out of thin air?

As if conjuring the hero, a red bolt flew through the mostly empty convenience store. The glass doors shook from the force. While newspapers scattered through the air, Vogue landed atop the cashier's head.

Though he moved faster than the speed of light, he stood before you still. Unmoving. It was as if you might fade away if he got too close.

“Webs,” His voice was laced with reverence.

Your mouth went dry, “Flash.”

The tension between the two of you was thick enough to cut with a knife, suffocating you. Maybe this was how Flash planned to get back at you for ignoring him. Slowly killing you with hypoxia. A metaphorical death pertaining to how he felt during your absence.

“Woah, this just got really awkward.”

Kid Flash’s voice suddenly reminded you of his presence. He swayed uncomfortably. Trapped between you and Flash.

The younger male pointed his thumbs at the door, “Should I leave…or?”

“Yes.”

Startled at your synchronous voices, Kid Flash quickly shuffled toward the door, “Alright. See you later?”

Flash nodded his head in response, ushering his protégé away. Kid Flash couldn't leave fast enough. Magazines, once again disturbed, twirled around the ground from where he left.

You stared at the loose paper. Preferring the sight of perfume ads then whatever expression Flash held. From the corner of your eye you should see him shift. He moved with unease. Your mouth curled slightly. He never was able to stop moving for long.

“Webs, I-”

You cut him off, “I’m sorry.”

Flash furrowed his brows in confusion, “You don’t need to apologize. It's not your fault.”

“But it is,” You clenched your teeth in frustration, “It's always been my fault.”

The taller male crossed the space between you hesitantly. You flinched when he placed his large hands on your shoulders, completely engulfing them.

“It wasn't your fault, Webs. Nobody could have known.”

“I could have saved her,” you finally met his gaze, “I was right there.”

You saw his eyes widen slightly, clearly used to your masked form more than your real face.

Your name spilled from his lips.

Not just Webs - your name.

You took a shaky breath, “Barry.”

The name was foreign on your tongue. You had tried to keep your personal life separate from hero work. Though that only lasted a year. Barry managed to weasel his way into your home life before you knew it.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

Barry’s hands slid from your shoulders down to your hands, caressing them softly. “Believe me when I say this,” He took a deep breath, “I’ve been in your position before. We all have.”

Breaking eye contact, your stare bore into the wall of cheap booze, “I know.”

“And I know,” He cupped your cheek, “That drinking away your problems won’t help. It only makes it worse.”

You bit your lip, “I just want to forget.”

“I know. God, I know. I want to go back and change that day every time I open my eyes,” He placed his head in the crook of your neck, “But I've been down that road before. And it's not sustainable.”

Your eyes felt hot, your throat dry, “I don’t know what to do.”

Barry pulled your smaller frame into his arms, “No one does.”

You sunk into his embrace, inhaling his scent.

“Let me take you home, Webs.”

“Okay.”

・❥・

You held tightly onto Barry, arms circling his neck, as he brought you home. You had barely enough time to blink before you were standing in front of your apartment’s door.

Barry hesitantly let you down from his hold. Though his arm stayed wrapped around your waist for support. You gave him a gentle smile as a thank you.

Unlocking your door, you were immediately reminded of the state of your apartment. Dirty laundry and loose items scattered the floor.

Shame crept up your neck. The uncaring attitude towards your humble abode seemingly disappeared.

Barry entered slowly, taking in the messy state. His eyes were quickly drawn to the empty bottles strewn about your floor. Unsurprisingly, he began to pick one up. Then another. And another. You snapped when he started to replace your trash bag.

“Barry.”

His head whipped toward you, only focusing on you.

“That's enough,” You tried grabbing the bag from him, “You don’t need to.”

Barry held onto the plastic tightly, “I want to.”

You shook your head, “It's my mess. Leave it.”

“No.”

You jolted in surprise at his commanding tone, “Why?”

He tossed the bag to the side, “Why?”

Laughing dryly, he shook his head, “Why not? Why wouldn't I take care of you?”

You averted your gaze, “I don’t need you to take care of me.”

“But you do,” his voice was imbued with desperation, “If you didn’t, I wouldn't have spent a month doing everything in my power to find you!”

Your face felt hot, “I didn't ask you too!”

Barry closed in the space between you, “You didn't have too!”

You weren't sure when the tears began to pour down your cheeks, “I never wanted you too! I just want to be alone! Why can’t you let me be?”

“Because I can't let you be!” Barry’s hand slammed down on your tiny island counter, “You're all I think about! From the moment I wake up to the time I go to sleep, all I know is you. I would rather you hate me for the rest of my life just to see you for a moment than ever ignore you.”

You felt like a deer in headlights, “What?”

“That day when Spider-Girl died,” He gripped the counter, slightly cracking it under the force, “I felt like I lost a piece of you too. And I could bear it.”

You felt like you lost your breath when Barry met your gaze again. His eyes were laced with anguish. Bloodshot rims already forming.

“I know you're hurting. I know what I am experiencing is nothing compared to what you are going through,” He searched your eyes, “But I'm in love with you! And I have been for as long as I can remember.”

The start of a cry made his voice waver, “And this is definitely poor timing for a confession, but I can’t lose you-”

You weren't exactly sure which one of your muscles was still intact enough for you to move. However, the feeling of plush lips against your own thwarted any other thought.

Barry stood rigid for a moment. Hands clenched at his sides. Then, he dominated the kiss like his life depended on it. His hands held onto your waist tightly, before slowly making their way to your face. You couldn't remember the last time you felt this happy.

Pulling away, you took shallow breaths, “I love you.”

Barry smiled and swiped a loose teardrop from your cheek, “I love you too.”

The warm moment didn't last long. Your mind was quick to remind you that there was a reason Barry had to confess in a messy studio apartment rather than someplace special. That reason was because you were broken.

You pressed you mouth into a thin line, “Do you still want me even if-”

“I want you no matter what,” Barry didn’t allow you to get another word in, “We can go through this together.”

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, “You're not alone, Webs. You never were.”

You swallowed hard, “Together?”

"Together."

・❥・

#dcu x reader #dcu x mcu #dc universe #justice league #barry allen x reader #barry allen #wally west #the flash #flash x reader #kid flash #young justice #dealing with grief #grieving #unhealthy coping mechanisms #hurt/comfort

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a-reader-and-a-writer · 3 months ago

Text

Sweeter Than Revenge Part 3

Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: After your "date" with Tyler took an unexpected turn, you wake up to see Scott confronting the cowboy about your disappearance. Word Count: 2045 TW: Fluff, Angst, Family Conflict, Confrontation, Yelling, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever for always answering my late-night panicked messages

Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)

Series Masterlist

“Where the fuck is she, Owens!”

As your eyes flickered open, you realized you were no longer lying on Tyler’s chest in the bed of his truck. Instead, you were curled in the back seat, one of his merch t-shirts balled up under your head and his jacket draped over your body as a makeshift blanket. Your head was positioned near the passenger side of the truck and, lifting it slightly, you noticed the driver’s door was open. Tyler was standing outside as if he had just climbed out, the little you could see of his surroundings revealing he had driven you back to the motel.

He turned towards whoever had just spoken—the voice was very familiar even though your sleep-hazed mind couldn’t place it—and held up his hands. “Why don’t we all just calm down an—”

“No!” Suddenly, Scott burst into view as he stormed up to Tyler, stopping only when he was practically chest-to-chest with him. Scott towered a good five or six inches over the other man, yet Tyler didn’t as much as flinch as Scott growled in his face. “I asked you a question. Where the fuck is she?”

Tyler stared calmly at Scott’s fuming face for a moment then chuckled. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen you lose your cool like this before, Scotty. In fact, can’t say I’ve seen much more than a sarcastic sneer from you before. Something must have riled you up real good for you to be in this state.” Tyler’s voice had slowed, his accent becoming twice as heavy as before as he milked every second in an attempt to push Scott’s buttons—and it was working.

Nostrils flaring, Scott yelled, “How about the fact you’ve been alone with my little sister for the past four hours? I’ve been trying to call and text her but she hasn’t answered.”

You suddenly realized you had tucked your phone into your purse when you left the motel room. The purse that you had then placed on the passenger’s seat when Tyler helped you down after parking in the field so you could both go eat your food in the bed of his truck. The one you had completely forgotten about until just now. Oops.

But Tyler didn’t offer any such explanation. “We were busy,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. “Besides, are you really worried about her, or are you just worried she was having a good time with someone like me?”

“If you laid a single finger on her—”

“No. You don’t get to do that.” The smug grin that had been on Tyler’s face evaporated as he became stone-serious. Whatever game he had been playing was now over. He took a step forward, this sudden shift causing Scott to stumble back in surprise. “You don’t get to play caring, protective older brother when just a few hours ago you basically told her to fuck off because you didn’t want her here. I understand you two might have a complicated history, but family isn’t something you can pick and choose when it's convenient for you. You didn’t want anything to do with her after she traveled all this way just to see you, so you don’t get a say in what she does now.”

Scott recovered slightly, but though he tried to bite back with the same fury as before, it seemed dulled by the force of Tyler’s words. “And you do?”

“No, I don’t. Only she does.” Tyler started to turn towards his open door but then thought better of it and faced Scott again. Lowering his voice, he said, “You know, I used to think you were in the wrong truck. That you should be in Tin Man instead of Scarecrow considering how cold and uncaring you seemed. But I was wrong. You may have your fancy degree from a world-class university yet you are too brainless to see that all she’s looking for is just a little of your attention and love. And if you aren’t willing to give that to her, you can’t get mad when she finds someone else who will.”

Scott sneered at Tyler. “You’ve known her for a few hours and you think you know her better than someone who’s known her her entire life?”

“Yeah. I do.”

The back door to the truck flung open and you blinked up at the bright lights shining in. Tyler stood in the door with a halo of neon light framing his silhouette, anger rolling off of him in waves. His jaw was clenched tightly and his eyes burned beneath his cowboy hat. However, when he saw you staring up at him, his expression softened. Giving you a small smile, he murmured, “Hey, sweetheart. You want me to carry you to your room or you think you’re awake enough to walk?”

Stretching to help wake up your limbs from where you had been curled, you sat up. “I can walk.” Ducking your head to hide the bashful smile fluttering on your lips, you added a soft, “Thanks though.”

Grabbing your purse off the front seat, you started to crawl towards the door when Tyler offered you his hand. You took it and slid out, a small cloud of dust bursting up around your ankles as your boots hit the dirt. Tyler reached back into the truck, grabbed his jacket, and wrapped it around your shoulders before placing his arm on top of it, hugging you close to his body. The warmth radiating off of him and the smell of his skin made you want to snuggle deeper into him and drift back to sleep.

Maybe you should have taken him up on his offer to carry you after all.

As he began to steer you towards the stairs leading to your room, you noticed Scott standing by the rear of the truck with his arms folded across his chest. The two of you made eye contact for just a moment, but you quickly looked away. You didn’t like the look in your brother’s eyes—the seething anger and blatant disappointment you were used to, but it was that hint of something else that made you turn away and lean your head against Tyler’s shoulder. If you didn’t know Scott better, you would almost say he looked hurt. But that couldn’t be possible because Scott would have to care about you for him to be hurt by Tyler’s words or by seeing you together.

Thankfully, he didn’t say anything else as Tyler helped you climb the stairs. Letting out a soft sigh of relief when your brother disappeared from view, you whispered, “Thank you. For standing up to Scott for me.”

“You heard that?” You nodded against Tyler’s shoulder and you felt him shift beneath you. “Yeah, well, he had the right to be worried about you, but he also needed to be reminded he wasn’t a saint in this situation. Besides, you’re an adult and can spend time with whoever you want.”

You hummed a soft agreement before, a few dozen steps later, reluctantly pulling yourself away from Tyler as you reached the correct door. “Well, this is me.”

He watched as you unlocked the door and stepped inside. Turning to face him, you said, “I know I already said it, but thank you…for everything. I-I really needed that, out in the field. It helped. And while today did not go at all how I expected, I’m actually very happy with how it turned out.”

“Me too, sweetheart.”

The two of you continued smiling at each other and you weren’t exactly sure what you were supposed to do next. But just as you started to close the door, Tyler leaned his shoulder against your door frame and said, “Hey, whether you’re done messing with Scott or not, I’d like to see you tomorrow.”

You blinked, butterflies blooming in your chest. “R-really?”

“Yeah. I had a really nice time tonight. It’s not every day I meet someone like you and I’d like to see more.”

Someone like me? You briefly flashed back to yourself sobbing into his chest in the bed of his truck and wondered what he could have possibly seen in you that he would want to see more of. However, you weren’t going to pass up this chance if he was offering.

Fidgeting with the strap on your purse, you nodded, “I’d like to see more of you too. Maybe you could let me come on a chase with you or something?”

Tyler’s dimples made your breath catch in your throat as his smile widened. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more interesting…I would love to take you on a chase. Show you what it means to wrangle a tornado. How ‘bout I pick you up in the morning around 7:30?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Nodding, Tyler reached out and took your hand. For a moment, you were taken aback. You might not have known each other long, but after everything that had happened tonight, it felt weird for him to end it by shaking your hand. But then he lifted it, his face disappearing beneath the brim of his hat as he dipped his head, and his lips brushed the back of your hand.

The kiss was brief and faint, just a soft caress on your skin contrasted by the rough scratch of his stubble, yet you felt a jolt of electricity surge up your arm before traveling throughout your entire body. You were so glad your other hand was still clinging to the door because, without it to steady you, you were sure your knees would have given out.

Tyler didn’t seem to notice as he straightened up and gently lowered your hand to your side, giving it a light squeeze before releasing it. Then, with a tip of his hat and a wink, he said, “Good night,” and strolled back down the walkway towards the stairs.

You watched him go until he disappeared. Only then did you close your door, leaning heavily on it with a sigh. Your head thudded back against the sturdy metal as you replayed every moment from the night in your head.

What were you doing? Had this really all started as a game, a way to pay Scott back for how he treated you? Now Tyler was planning on picking you up the next morning after you spent most of tonight crying into his chest? And why did you feel so giddy about seeing him again?

Tyler wasn’t at all what you had expected from his videos or from what Scott had said about him. Sure, he had a wild, playful side, but more than that, he was funny and kind and smart and, to top it all off, a perfect gentleman. You can’t remember the last time someone had treated you with so much respect or consideration. He never tried to make a move or insinuate you owed him for the fact that he was doing you a favor. And even when he pulled you into his arms where it would have been easy to take advantage of your emotional state, he had only sought to comfort you and make sure you were okay.

Then he had to go and kiss your hand like some handsome cowboy prince charming! What the fuck.

Pushing yourself off the door, you went over and grabbed a towel off the edge of the sink before disappearing into the dingy bathroom. Tyler’s scent still clung to your skin and you almost didn’t want to wash it off. However, the desire to rinse away the remaining tears from your face and feel the hot water streaming down your exhausted, tense muscles won out. You would just have to find another excuse to cozy up to Tyler again tomorrow. Maybe another meal next to him in the back of the truck. Or resting on his shoulder as you both watched the storm clouds roll in. Or pressing yourself against him as you leaned in—

It was only then that the full weight of your situation hit you. This might have started out as an act of revenge on Scott, but the joke was now on you. After only one day, you were falling fast and hard for Tyler Owens.

Part 4 coming 9/2!

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#fic #sweeter than revenge #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #tyler owens x scott's sister!reader #f!reader #scott's sister!reader #twisters #twisters 2024 #scott #scott twisters #twisters scott #scott miller #fake dating #fluff #angst #family drama tw #language tw

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makoodles · 2 years ago

Text

ミ tìtunu

part one | part two | part three (nsfw) | part four (nsfw

🍓pairing: tsu'tey x human fem reader

🍓word count: 9k words (oops)

🍓warnings: alien courting rituals, misunderstandings, accidental sexy touching

yoooo i was not expecting people to like this ahhahahaha but thank you all so much for all your lovely excited comments! they've been so fun to read and honestly pushed me into writing this faster! pls forgive me if i forgot to tag you (i tried to include everyone that asked) 🍓 masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

Tsu’tey is beginning to wonder if he had received some irreparable damage to his head in the fall from the sky that had nearly killed him all those months ago. It’s the only explanation for what’s gone so terribly wrong with him.

After his failed first attempt at courting, you don’t come back to the village for a few days. It’s probably a good thing, Tsu’tey tries to convince himself; he needs to decide what it is he truly wants, and how far he’s willing to go to get it. But even though he tries to use the time to himself productively, he finds himself on edge and impatient.

His foul mood is clear to the whole village to see, and so it’s only a matter of time before someone confronts him about it.

It’s just his luck that the person who approaches him about it is Jakesully.

“So,” The new Olo’eyktan drawls as he sidles up to where Tsu’tey is watching a group of young warriors training with their longbows, “Word has it that you’ve chosen a mate.”

They may be brothers in arms and tentative friends, but that doesn’t mean that Tsu’tey is pleased to have him poking around his business. His ears flatten back in a wordless warning to back off, but Jakesully pays no heed to it.

The bastard is grinning, as though this is the most entertained he’s been in weeks. “Word has it that your chosen mate is human.”

“Do not speak on matters you do not understand.” Tsu’tey bares his teeth in a move that is bold at best, considering he is speaking to his clan chief.

But Jakesully just laughs, his stupid shoulders straightening. He has become so confident since becoming one of the people, and Tsu’tey envies him for it. He was sure of himself just like Jakesully once, but now it seems like all he does is doubt himself.

“Relax, brother.” Jakesully says casually, leaning on one leg as he follows Tsu’tey’s gaze out towards the young warriors. “You are too tense. How could she want someone so grumpy?”

Tsu’tey turns to him then, his tail coiled in a tense loop as he glares. “She is a demon.”

Jakesully just rolls his eyes. It's a gesture so human that it’s almost jarring. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that he is alien, just like you.

“Everyone sees the way you look at her.” Jakesully says, raising a brow at him. “It’s a different kind of scowl than you give everyone else.”

Tsu’tey doesn’t think that he scowls that much. He tries to force the frown off his face as he turns to look at Jakesully head on.

“It does not matter what you think you see,” He bites out, frustrated and on-edge with embarrassment. “She is tawtute. Sky demon. She does not see, cannot connect with the People or with Eywa.”

Jakesully is nodding, but he still has that infuriating smirk curling around his mouth that suggests he understands Tsu’tey’s feelings better than Tsu’tey himself does.

“That hasn’t stopped you so far, has it?” He points out with a faux-innocent tone that is utterly unconvincing. “I mean, you certainly seem happier to show her around and explain things to her than you ever were with me.”

“That is because she listens, Jakesully.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jakesully waves this away as if it’s inconsequential, before his expression shifts.

The next look he levels at Tsu’tey is uncomfortably sober.

“Look. I know that you’ve been having a hard time since...” He trails off, and his eyes dart down towards the harsh, ugly scars that cover Tsu’tey’s torso from where the brutal human weapons called bullets had nearly torn him apart. “Look, who cares what anyone else thinks? The People are still wary of the humans left over, but they’re looking to you as an example on how they should act. You could set a precedent here.”

Tsu’tey clenches his jaw as he stares out at the warriors. Instead of answering, he shouts out to one of the younglings near the edge of their makeshift firing range. “Netu’li, keep your elbows up.”

Netu’li fixes his posture, and the next arrow he looses hits home in a perfect bullseye. Tsu’tey nods in satisfaction.

Jakesully is still staring at the side of his face, and Tsu’tey realises that there is no way for him to escape this conversation. He takes a breath, and tries to ignore the resentful embarrassment coiling in his belly.

“She did not accept my advances.” He mutters, his ears flattened against his skull.

Irritatingly, Jakesully doesn’t seem bothered by this in the slightest.

“Oh yeah?” He drawls. “Hm. Well, I never thought you’d give up so easily. I’m surprised.”

Tsu’tey flicks a quick glance his way. What a ridiculous, painfully transparent attempt at goading him into admitting the interest he’s been trying to deny. The worst part is that it might actually be working.

“I did not say I was giving up.” Tsu’tey says sharply, well aware that he’s playing right into Jakesully’s hands right now. “I am just… I am thinking.”

Jakesully raises his stupid eyebrows, but Tsu’tey is studiously avoiding looking at him now. This whole situation was mortifying enough when it was all going unsaid; now that it’s being discussed, Tsu’tey feels like climbing inside of a yomioang plant and never coming out.

“Well,” Jakesully sounds smug, which should be a warning in itself, “You’d better do some thinking quickly, because I believe that’s her coming now.”

Tsu’tey straightens quickly, and tosses a look over his shoulder. Sure enough, your familiar figure is standing awkwardly by the treeline. It seems as though you’re reluctant to step further into the village; you’re fidgeting with your fingers, eyes darting around until they finally find him.

Something in his lower belly leaps, and he finds himself taking a sharp inhale through his nose at the sight of you. It’s been days since he’s last seen you, and he had been beginning to wonder if you would ever seek him out again. The sight of you here is a ridiculous sort of relief, one that he doesn’t even want to fully think about. Even better is the fact that you look alright, you look healthy. It doesn’t seem as though he’s done lasting damage to you with the meat.

You smile at him, and even from across the village he feels his heart thump against his ribcage. Perhaps you don’t hate him after all.

Aware of your eyes on him, Tsu’tey hefts his longbow from his back and shoots an arrow. It flies straight through the target, and hits it with a heavy, satisfying thump.

Jakesully just laughs. “Wow. Impressive.”

“Be silent.” Tsu’tey grumbles, his tail coiled tightly around his leg. He is anxious in a way that is entirely unbefitting of a warrior, and he resents you for being the cause of it. “I do not wish to speak to her.”

“Oh, come on!” Jakesully tilts his head back, shaking his head as though Tsu’tey is nothing but a child. “I thought we just talked through this!”

Tsu’tey ignores him. He can feel your gaze on his back like a weight, and though he stands straight and tall he cannot bring himself to turn around and meet your eyes. It’s all too much – even from across the camp your presence needles at him, and he hasn’t even decided on what he’s going to do just yet.

Jakesully’s eyes on the side of Tsu’tey’s face don’t help very much either. “Where’s all your confidence from the other night gone, when you practically declared what you wanted in front of the whole clan?”

Tsu’tey’s tail lashes restlessly. That had been a moment of pure madness. “It was rash of me.”

Jakesully just makes a face. “Whatever. Look, if the People could accept a skxawng like me as Olo’eyktan, why wouldn’t they accept your interest in a human mate? They respect you; they’ll respect your choices.”

It’s a reasonable point, but Tsu’tey remains stubbornly silent. It rankles, the way that Jakesully is trying to insert himself into his business. Tsu’tey’s thoughts and feelings about you are confused and conflicted, but they’re private. The way Jakesully speaks about you as though he knows you makes Tsu’tey’s skin prickle.

“I must think on it.” Tsu’tey says at last. It’s a weak response, but he just wants to buy himself some time.

Perhaps Jakesully is right. Tsu’tey has always been strong-willed and stubborn, and has always known exactly what he wanted. Now though, he's floundering. Now he doesn’t know what he wants, and he’s casting about desperately in the hopes that someone will advise him on what to do. After having his life and expectations so soundly upended, he just wants to make his clan proud. He wants their approval, but Jakesully is right – when has he ever given up on anything just because it posed a challenge?

“Fine.” Jakesully says, jarring Tsu’tey from his thoughts. He had nearly forgotten the Olo’eyktan was still there, and it’s unnerving to realise that he’s being watched with a smug sort of smirk. “I’ll keep her company for today, then. Considering you need your space.”

Tsu’tey’s jaw clenches hard but he does not protest. He can’t, not after making such a big deal out of not wishing to speak to you today. His pride is hurt, and all he can do is double-down on his position. Besides, Jakesully is mated to Neytiri, and Tsu’tey knows that he would rather die than stray from her.

That doesn’t stop him from turning his head as Jakesully leaves his side, watching with sharp eyes as the Olo’eyktan approaches you. Even from this distance, he can see the little smile on your face through your mask as you tilt your head up towards him. The sight of it causes something to curdle in his low belly.

That should be him on the receiving end of your sweet little smile. It’s a selfish thought, but one that he can’t quite shake off. The sense of possessiveness surprises even him, and he watches with narrowed eyes as Jakesully leans down to say something to you.

When Jakesully’s stupid five-fingered hand touches upon your shoulder to lead you away to somewhere else within the camp, Tsu’tey feels his tail whip around his ankles in aggravation.

I will try again, He thinks wildly as he turns back around to stare unseeingly at the practicing warriors in front of him. And this time I will not fail to impress.

Now that Tsu’tey has reached the decision to court you (officially), there is much to be prepared. He has never been one to take half-measures, and initiating a courtship is certainly no exception. You may not be Na’vi, but he will court you with all the respect and courtesy as he would if you were one of the People.

Part of him wonders if his decision is written across his face somehow, because the People of the village seem to know. When he begins searching for materials to make an official courting gift for you, he begins getting help from unexpected places.

Some of the children have started leaving pieces of twine and plant fibre in his treehut, and he is pleased to find that it is of good enough quality to begin weaving immediately. The old woman, A’nayla, who is the best at carving beads in the whole village, slaps his hands away impatiently when he attempts to pick out a number of beads for your gift. She directs him instead to some of her shiniest and most vibrant beads, and refuses to make any trades. A gift, she had insisted, her old face crinkling in a knowing smile as she had waved him away.

He feels supported, even more so when Neytiri visits him in his treehut one evening after dinner. It has been a few days since you visited the encampment, but Tsu’tey is determined to have everything in good order before he approaches you in earnest.

When Neytiri enters the small hut he had built in the trees when they first settled in this encampment, she takes a moment to peer around with a neutral expression.

Tsu’tey has been sitting on the woven mat in the middle of the room, but he looks up and waits for his old friend to speak.

“My Jake has told me about your intentions with the tawtute.” She says after a long moment, stepping forward and sinking down to sit in front of him with her legs crossed. “Many people speak of it in the village.”

Tsu’tey’s ear twitches at that, embarrassed, but he just focuses back on his weaving. There’s no point denying it; he does not plan on hiding it for much longer, anyway.

“Yes.” He says simply. “My first attempt was… not successful.”

Neytiri hums. He thinks he can hear an undercurrent of amusement. “Yes. I saw.”

His ears flatten in earnest at that. He had hoped that no one had witnessed that particular humiliation, but that’s no matter. People will soon forget, and he will soon have you distracted with his second (and surely more successful) attempt.

Her eyes fall on the half-finished woven piece in his hands, and she eyes it carefully. “That is too big. She is small, remember.”

“Of course I remember.” He snaps, before raising the half-finished jewelry to his face and squinting at it. “You think it will not fit?”

“Give me.” Neytiri demands, and stretches out her hand.

Tsu’tey passes it without complaint. They have known each other since birth, certainly long enough to forgo any passing formalities and niceties. He trusts Neytiri with his life, his best-friend and once-potential-mate, and he finds himself waiting with his tail curled protectively beside him as he awaits her judgment; not only on his half-finished gift, but also on his choice of a mate.

“This decision I have made,” He says suddenly. “To court the sky demon. It is madness, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Neytiri speaks with hardly a hesitation, though she doesn’t raise her eyes from his weaving. She starts picking out a loop where he had made a mistake, and begins reweaving it with deft fingers. “But I will not be the one to judge you for that.”

“And Mo’at?”

“She thinks you are a skxawng.” Neytiri says easily, “But she loves you like a son.” The next look she darts at him is quick and sharp out of the corner of her eye. “Out of everyone in the village, your heart was the most firmly closed against the Sky People. Does that not make it all the more meaningful, that you have chosen a sky person as your mate?”

Tsu’tey is silent. He used to think that he knew exactly how his life was going to work out; he would be Olo’eyktan, he would mate with his first love Sylwanin, they would be happy and prosperous and strong together. But that future evaporated like mist before his eyes; not all at once, but gradually, until he could barely see the vapours. His reality is very different now; he clings almost desperately to the idea of you. There have been many people that Tsu’tey has not been strong enough to protect, but you are so small and soft – you need protecting more than anyone he’s ever known, and he’s determined not to let you down.

“She will accept,” Tsu’tey murmurs, before casting an uncertain glance in Neytiri’s direction. “Do you think so?”

“I see her look at you.” Neytiri murmurs back, her mouth curving. “She will accept.”

That brings a rush of relief so sudden and unexpected that Tsu’tey feels it like a physical blow. He keeps his head bowed in the hopes that it will not be so obvious, and hums absently as though he’s only half listening. It’s not enough to convince Neytiri, but he hopes that it works to recoup at least some of his pride.

“You have redecorated.” Neytiri comments, though her eyes stay focused on fixing the small section of the necklace that Tsu’tey had messed up. “Your kelku is inviting.”

That pleases Tsu’tey, and he sits up straighter. Decorating has never been a strong suit of his, and it presented more of a challenge than he had initially anticipated to decorate in such a way that it would appeal to a human. He knows you are very interested in the plants of his planet, considering the amount of time you spend studying them, so he has effectively cushioned the rough wooden walls and floors with softer wide leaves. From the ceiling hangs intense blue eanean flowers and hippophae leaves, lending a soft phosphorescent glow to the small space.

“Humans are weak,” Tsu’tey grunts. “Soft bones, fragile skin. She needs soft surroundings, too.”

Neytiri hums her agreement, before finally lifting her head. In her hands, the knot in the half-finished necklace has been unpicked and resolved. She hands it back, and Tsu’tey takes it cautiously into his hands before peering carefully at her work. Her hands are far more practiced in the art of weaving than his; she has done a wonderful job.

“Thank you.” He says quietly. He is appreciative on several levels; for her weaving, for her company, for her support.

She seems to pick up on what he isn’t saying, as usual. “You should approach her again soon. My Jake says that she is sad – she thinks she has upset you, and that you are angry with her.”

Tsu’tey raises his head sharply at that. He’s not sure if he’s more displeased at the idea that you are upset or the fact that you have apparently been confiding in Jakesully. It is difficult to push past the feeling that you should be confiding in him, that he should be the person offering you comfort. But how could you approach him when he was part of the problem?

“I will find her tomorrow.” He decides. The thought of him losing his chance is sickening – he can’t afford to wait until everything is perfectly prepared. He will just have to do his best with what he’s got so far.

Neytiri grins at him, her lips peeling back of her teeth in a way that is both joyful and intimidating.

“Sìltsan tìtaron.” She says, and Tsu’tey finds himself grinning back without conscious thought.

It is a customary saying in their tribe, used for both chasing prey and courting mates. Good hunting.

When the next day dawns, Tsu’tey curses himself for feeling nervous.

The last time he felt this way was the night before his iknimaya, when he was a fledgling warrior. Even then, he was so confident, his ego inflated by the simple fact that he had never experienced a loss before.

This time is different. He finds himself anxious in a way that he is utterly unused to experiencing, and it makes him bare his teeth in frustration as he bounds down from his treehut into the village properly. It is already a hive of activity, and the familiar buzz of conversation and laughter eases some of the tension out of his shoulders.

He will take this slow, he’s already decided. Slow and careful.

The thought of you refusing him is something that he can’t bring himself to consider; he needs to show you that he is strong, that he is thoughtful and caring, that he can provide for you and keep you safe and make you happy. He has to convince you that there is no one who can care for you better than he can.

Finding you is easy enough; the human scientists that have remained on the planet follow a routine, and you are no different. Besides, as some of the children in the village tell him, you have been lingering close to the village for days now. Ostensibly you are studying the plantlife, but Tsu’tey knows that you have likely been waiting to catch a glimpse of him. The realisation has a hollow feeling of guilt gnawing at his stomach, but he tries to push it aside – he will apologise soon.

He finds you in the forest, only a little while outside of the village. You are not alone; as is standard procedure, you are accompanied by three other scientists and a dreamwalker.

Norm is as awkward as ever in his Avatar state, discussing whatever he is reading from his demon technology with wide eager eyes. Tsu’tey is familiar with Norm now, mostly against his will – Jakesully is fond of the scientist, and he has been invited to take part in village life on several occasions. Tsu’tey will begrudgingly admit that the dreamwalker is respectful of Na’vi life and culture and he has come to accept his presence both on his planet and around his people, but seeing him around you is making him fidgety.

One of the scientists is armed (and the sight of the gun makes his skin itch from the memory of bullets tearing flesh) and Norm is at least Na’vi-sized, but that is the extent of the protection they have brought. Tsu’tey’s fingers twitch. It is not enough. You are so small and fragile, entirely unsuited for his world. Don’t you know that? Don’t you know how dangerous it is to be out here like this with so little to protect you?

You’re so preoccupied with the helicoradian you’re studying that you don’t seem to notice anything else around you. Your head is bowed, your eyes bright and shiny with interest as you inspect the orange pigment dusting the leaves.

The dappled light that filters through the trees casts shadowy patterns across your face in a way that is nearly mesmerising, and he ends up staring at you for a longer moment than he had originally intended. You are strange-looking and alien to him, and yet his fingers itch with the desire to touch you.

Tsu’tey leaps from the branch he had been watching you from, and lands neatly on the balls of his feet. His movements are nearly soundless, and none of the humans raise their heads. They don’t seem to sense his appearance at all.

His brow furrows in dissatisfaction. Anything could creep up on you, and you would not see it coming until it was too late.

He reaches out one leg and steps purposely on a twig. The snap is resounding, and the man with the gun whirls around and hoists the weapon higher, aiming at Tsu’tey’s chest.

He just bares his teeth in warning.

“No!” You yelp, throwing your hands up as soon as you realise what’s happening. “Don’t shoot him!”

Despite the situation, he’s sure that he looks quite smug. It feels good to experience you standing up for him, even if he doesn’t really need it – he could knock this puny little gun-toting tawtute into the dirt with a single backhand if he wished, though he refrains. He’s trying to be on his best behaviour.

“Fuck!” The little man yells, clearly spooked. “What does he want?”

That makes you falter, and you look up at him with uncertainty. It seems like you’re waiting for an explanation as well. All of the scientists are silent are apprehensive, eyeing him cautiously as they wait to see what he’s going to do. Their eyes linger around the knife strapped to his waist and the longbow strung over his shoulders.

Norm is looking at him with raised eyebrows, his ears perked up. Judging by his expression, Tsu’tey assumes that Norm has guessed exactly what he’s doing here.

“I wish to speak with you,” He tells you in Na’vi – he knows that some of the other scientists will be able to interpret his words, but it brings an illusion of privacy all the same.

You blink, but hesitate. When you don’t agree immediately, Tsu’tey feels his ears pin back. Your uncertainty is surely a bad sign for him – has he misjudged how upset you were?

He turns to the other humans and narrows his eyes at them. “Leave.”

They burst into motion satisfyingly quickly. The moron with the gun looks as though he is about to start arguing, but Norm hooks the long fingers of his demon body into the back of his collar and tugs him away. For once, the scientist is not being a nuisance.

You’re still standing there, turning to stare in apparent bewilderment at your comrades, who are practically fleeing. “What-”

“Come.” Tsu’tey says. Now that it’s just the two of you, he loses some of the edge in his voice.

When he turns away and begins to lead you into the forest, you follow after him without complaint. Out of the corner of his eye, Tsu’tey can see you twisting your hands nervously. Your clear anxiety has him frowning – he wants you to be comfortable with him, not on edge.

Once he’s determined that you’re both far enough away from the other humans that they could not hear you, he turns to you. You’re already looking at him, fingers twisting as you bite at your lip.

Calm and steady, Tsu’tey thinks to himself. Just apologise for ignoring her.

Apologising does not come easy to him, but he rolls his shoulder and takes a breath before opening his mouth.

“I’m sorry!” You blurt before he can make even a sound.

That throws him, and he ends up staring at you with his mouth ajar for a long moment like an absolute moron. Why are you apologising? This isn’t how this was supposed to go.

“I didn’t mean to get sick,” You continue, a little desperately, “I really did appreciate your hunting, it was very impressive and the meat was very nice, I swear I didn’t mean to come across as ungrateful-”

Oh no, are those tears he sees shining in your eyes?

Tsu’tey feels as though he’s been frozen in place. He knows that his face is stuck in a confused scowl, but he can’t soften his expression no matter how hard he tries. Panic starts to curdle in his stomach. He may be a seasoned warrior, fearless in the face of fearsome opponents, but he finds himself at a total loss in this situation.

You just keep going – his silence seems to be making you even more upset. “I never meant to offend you, and I’m so, so sorry if I have. I never meant to make you angry-”

Finally, Tsu’tey manages to find his voice. “I am not angry.”

Even he has to admit that he doesn’t sound particularly convincing, but he’s never been an eloquent person. How does he explain that he’s not angry at you, he’s frustrated with himself? Right now, with you staring up at him with your eyelashes all wet and clumped together as your lower lip trembles, he feels like kicking his own ass.

He needs to make his move now, he realises wildly. Be conciliatory, he thinks. Let her know you are interested.

His voice sticks in his throat, but he manages to push the words out. They come out slightly strangled, but semi-confident all the same.

“Would you like to come fishing?”

You hesitate, and Tsu’tey feels his heart seize in his chest – you’re not going to turn him down, are you?

“Would I-” You begin, face crumpling. “What?”

Despite all the similarities in your bodies and faces, Tsu’tey finds himself floundering when it comes to reading your expressions. Is that disappointment? Confusion? Anger? It’s so difficult to tell with your tiny blunt ears and lack of a tail.

“Fishing.” He repeats. His own tail lashes restlessly, the only part of his body that moves at all. “Come and watch me fish.”

It doesn’t come out quite as smoothly as he had planned in his head the night before, sounding a little more like an order than an invitation, but Tsu’tey thinks it’s a victory just to get the words out at all.

You look a little lost, but you nod all the same. Your tears are blinked away, your expression smoothing a little. Is Tsu’tey imagining it, or do you look hopeful?

“I- alright.” You swallow, and your hands reach up to tug at your hair in what appears to be a compulsive sort of movement. “Yes. Fishing. Right.”

Tsu’tey barely stifles his reaction. A success. He can’t stop his ears from pricking up, but otherwise he tries to appear neutral – he doesn’t want to scare you off.

“Come then.”

Just like before, you follow him readily through the jungle. He is careful to keep his back to you – it is a display of trust, to show off his conviction that you will do him no harm. It is mostly symbolic in your case, considering that you are unlikely to cause him any real harm even if you wanted to, but he is determined to carry out these courting rituals correctly even if the rest of this courtship is unconventional.

His ears are pricked the whole time for signs of danger or any other signs of life approaching, and to ensure that you are close behind as the two of you make your way towards the river winding towards the Omaticaya stronghold.

“You don’t have a fishing rod.” You say when you both finally reach the river.

Tsu’tey has no idea what you’re talking about, but it sounds as though you’re doubting his ability to fish.

He frowns, turning to squint at you – is this a challenge? Do you require him to prove his prowess right away? Displays of physical prowess and skill are part of the courting process, but he had thought that he had already done that with the hunt you had witnessed. But then again, the meat from the prey of that particular hunt had made you sick – perhaps you had decided not to count that hunt as an official courting display.

You stare back at him, looking perfectly innocent, if a little confused.

Fine. Tsu’tey straightens his back, and pulls his bow from his back. If it’s a display of prowess that you want, that’s what you’ll get.

In one smooth movement, he draws, nocks, and looses an arrow. It lands true, hitting home in the sleek, smooth body of a large fish that has just darted out from behind a stone lodged in the riverbank.

You let out a startled sort of sound, but lean forward quickly as Tsu’tey strides into the water and reaches for his catch. He had been planning on drawing this fishing display out a little longer, but it seems that you’re a demanding little thing. He doesn’t mind that; if anything, it will make satisfying you all the more exciting.

He retrieves his catch and holds it up for you to see. The fish is a large one, and it glints in the sweet sunshine that streams through the canopy of trees above you. It is a catch to be proud of, but he is careful not to be too pleased with himself until you react.

You laugh at the sight of the smooth glinting silver surface of his catch, clapping your hands together.

“Oh!” You call out, and you sound delighted. “Amazing! You make it look so easy!”

The praise sends a pleasant warmth effusing through his chest, and he feels a slow, hesitant grin begin to spread across his face.

“I am good at providing.” He tells you earnestly, stepping forward. He snaps off the long shaft of the arrow before proffering the fish towards you for your inspection.

You glance down, still smiling, but you don’t look particularly closely at his catch. That dulls some of his satisfaction – he glances down at the fish himself, wondering if there was something about it you found lacking.

“I know.” You murmur, tilting your head as you gaze up at him with lidded eyes. “You’re strong.”

His ears twitch like a child’s, and he nods, pleased. Hearing those words coming from the person he has chosen as a prospective mate fills him with a type of excitement that he has never experienced before. As a tawtute, you cannot connect with Eywa or with the People; but in this moment, Tsu’tey feels as though you see him anyway.

He swallows, and sets his catch aside in the pouch at his waist. He feels flustered in a way that is entirely unlike him, and he has to push his reactions down deep. He doesn’t want you to think of him as a silly little youngling – he wants you to see that he has taken this decision to court you seriously.

Time for the next step.

“We are close to an area where the Tsahìk gathers her herbs for medicine,” He says, clearing his throat as he turns to look at you with wide, earnest eyes. “I have offered to collect some for her. Would you like to help?”

Plants have always fascinated you – he knows that the original reason that you came to his planet was to study the wildlife and the flora. He waits, hoping that he’s right in thinking that this is something you will enjoy.

Your strange, sweet little face brightens. “Really?”

Tsu’tey nods, relieved by your reaction. “You would like this?”

“Yes!” You breathe. For the first time since he had approached you, you relax in earnest and Tsu’tey finds himself mirroring you.

He reaches out and cups your elbow as he helps you step over a log, and he doesn’t miss the little shiver and quick glance that you send towards his hand where it’s wrapped around your arm. It seems like you’re just as taken with the size difference between you as he is, and his lips begin to curl in excitement at the realisation.

This is good, He thinks, biting at the inside of his cheek. He is very slow to remove his hand, and you make no move to shake him off. Very good.

Tsu’tey does not want to speak too soon, but he feels as though his courting attempts are going very well indeed.

You had loved gathering the medicinal herbs with him, even more than he had hoped – you had badgered him with questions, curious about the names of the plants and their properties and their appearances, and you had bounded along at his side with a bright grin the whole time. It had pleased him greatly to experience your interest in the ways of the Omaticaya and the life of his planet; it was proof that you could be taught, that you were willing to learn.

And most thrillingly of all, you were receptive to his advances. Over the next couple of days, he continues with his cautious attempts at approaching you with little gestures.

When he gives you flowers and pretty leaves, you take them with brilliant, near-blinding smiles. Every time he shows off by flexing or practicing wrestling with the other warriors, you watch with interested eyes and tiny smiles. Whenever he tentatively touches you, small brushes to your shoulders or hands or waist, you never flinch away – on several occasions, you lean into him.

He tries not to let it go to his head, but it’s difficult. Since he’s started to admit his urges and his attraction to you, he swears it’s gotten worse. It feels like all he thinks about is you. He’s distracted during training, during his duties, during meals. He thinks about your reactions to his offerings, to your smiles, your scent, your voice. It really does feel like an illness, but it’s one he’s beginning to come to terms with if it means having you close by.

It’s beginning to get more difficult to keep his hands to himself. Traditionally, at this point in a courtship it would be acceptable for a courting pair to exchange flirtatious touches and other little intimacies, but Tsu’tey is aware that this is not exactly a conventional courtship.

He’s trying to be careful, to avoid spooking you or making you uncomfortable or uneasy, but it’s beginning to wear on him. Though he’s getting bolder with his little touches, it’s not enough to quench the skin-hunger growing in him.

But no matter. The courtship is going well, and moving at a good pace. The next step is one of the most important ones.

His carefully woven courtship necklace has been completed. It is customary to present a potential mate with a statement piece of jewelry, and Tsu’tey has spent several late nights fussing over the finishing touches. He recognises on some level that he’s stalling; it’s not in his nature to be nervous, but he’s beginning to grow nearly obsessive about getting the necklace as perfect as possible. It has been crafted to fit you exactly, with fibres and beads selected by him personally based on what he thinks you would like and what he thinks would suit your features.

The finished product is eye-catching, and Tsu’tey feels nearly delirious at the thought of it decorating your neck.

He crushes any semblance of nerves as best as he can, just like he might have done before a big hunt.

Of course you will accept his mating advances. Why wouldn't you? He is a strong warrior, a protector, desired by a great number of women. He could likely pick any woman he wanted out of the available women in the clan, and they would be honoured. Why would you be any different? You may be difficult to read at times, but he has laid his intentions out loud and clear and you have not shied away. You would accept him.

His mating necklace for you feels like it’s weighing him down as he steps through the village. It’s tucked safely into the pouch at his waist, though his hand keeps drifting to his hip to check that it’s still there. He’s not unaware of the looks he gets as he makes his way towards the edge of the encampment, but he ignores them. No doubt many of his people have guessed at what he’s up to, but he can’t give them his attention right now; he’s too focused on you, now that he spots you sitting next to one of the large pxiut trees.

Your head is bowed over your silly little notebook, lost entirely in your own world. Tsu’tey’s steps slow as he approaches you, taking the opportunity to drink in the sight of you while you’re unaware of his gaze.

His eyes track over the curves of your strange features, the slope of your alien nose, the arch of your neck. Your features may be exotic, but he’s finally beginning to admit to himself what he’s been trying to deny for a while now – you’re attractive to him.

He likes your weird little face, your odd five-fingered hands, your thick silly accent when you speak his language. He likes that you are so much smaller than him, he likes that you are soft.

He appreciates that you are patient with him, too. He knows he can be gruff and surly, and most people find him off-putting or intimidating, especially when they don’t know him. But you – you’re so calm and sweet, and you never seem to care when he’s stoically silent beside you. Most of the time when he’s around you, most of his brain-power goes into trying to keep his hands to himself, and he doesn’t have much intellectual power left to attempt conversation. He’s content with simply listening to you about whatever it is you wish to talk about, occasionally chiming in to ask a question or just to hum gently to show you he’s listening.

As he watches, you shift where you’re sitting and reach up to scratch absently at your neck. Beneath your odd human garments, your skin is glowing lightly with a thin sheen of sweat. Tsu’tey finds his eyes tracking over your exposed skin like a moron, and he clenches his jaw as he pulls himself together.

You're a warrior, you're a warrior, you’re a warrior, he chants in his head. He would not be cowed or intimidated by a tiny human.

You raise your head as he approaches, and a smile unfolds across your face. Your expression is bright, full of pure innocent happiness just to see him. He wavers, and nearly turns right back around.

“Hey, big guy.” You call out, setting your notebook aside as you beam at him.

You’re waiting for him to join you, he realises. He jolts forward, his previously confident stride turning a little jerky under your sharp eyes.

“Hello, little demon.” He murmurs, keeping his voice low and level.

You bite at your lip, still watching him with that little smile on your face. He watches you back just as closely, even as he sinks down to sit next with you. Your smile melts into a little look of surprise; usually, when he comes to you it’s so he can invite you somewhere else, either to show you something or to give you something. Joining you as you just sit is new for both of you.

For a moment, you’re both quiet. It seems like you’re waiting on him to speak, but he stays silent. He’s trying to compose himself, to appear cool and calm as he reaches his hand towards the woven bag slung around his waist.

Finally, he says, “I have something for you.”

It comes out impressively calm and level. While he’s not a man prone to nerves or to doubting himself, this is entirely new territory for him. When your expression brightens into a look of excitement, he feels a new little seed of confidence build in his chest. You’re anticipating his gift, you want it.

When he slips his hand into his bag, you sit up onto your knees so that you can watch him. Over the last few weeks, you’ve gotten used to receiving little flowers, plants, beads, or little carved figures. You accept each one with your usual brilliant, sweet smile; the thought of how you may smile at him when he gives you the necklace makes Tsu’tey’s tail flick eagerly.

He pulls it carefully out and hands it to you. As you take it your fingers brush his, and he twitches slightly as he stares at how small your hands are next to his.

“Oh,” You breathe, lifting up the necklace to eye level so you can get a good look at it. “I… Really? For me?”

“Yes.” He says simply, his eyes sharp and alert as they drink in every minute flicker that crosses your face. What are you thinking?

“It…” You begin, and then pause. Tsu’tey is just beginning to feel like crawling out of his skin when you slowly continue. “Tsu’tey, it’s beautiful.”

You so rarely say his name, choosing instead to call him variations of big guy, and he feels a near physical jolt run down his spine at the sound of it in your mouth. He wants to hear you say it again.

He just hums, still watching your face. You are examining the necklace intently, fingering the beads and the weavework, and he feels his pride inflate the longer you inspect his work. You are giving real, earnest thought to his offering rather than simply making your decision rashly. He respects this, and revels under the careful consideration you’re giving his proposal.

“You like it?” He murmurs. His voice comes out rougher than he had intended, and you jerk your head up to look at him.

Like this, your faces are very close together. Tsu’tey had leaned closer unconsciously as you were examining the necklace, and he makes no attempt to back off. Likewise, you make no attempt to retreat either, blinking up at him from behind the odd clear surface of your bubble-like mask.

“Yes,” You whisper, a shy, cautious smile beginning to bloom across your face. “Did you make this yourself?”

Tsu’tey just huffs. What sort of fool wouldn’t make their mating offering themselves?

“Of course.”

“Oh.” You bite at your lip. You seem to be trying to suppress your smile, though he can’t imagine why. He wants to see it, now more than ever.

You are certainly not racing to give him an answer. Your fingers trace over the beads, taking your time to admire the craftsmanship. Your obvious appreciation is certainly inflating his ego, but the longer you go without giving him a firm answer, the more agitated he gets. He hides it as best as he can, aiming to appear cool and unflappable. He is a warrior – he doesn’t want you to think of him as someone who is easily ruffled.

When you finally turn to look up at him, your eyes are shining. He can’t help but sit up a little straighter, watching you very carefully as he awaits your decision.

You proffer the necklace back to him, and Tsu’tey feels his stomach positively plummet. He truly hadn’t considered what he would do if you refused him.

“Will you help me put it on?” You ask, a little shyly.

The relief nearly bowls him over. Tsu’tey swears his stomach jolts so violently that he nearly makes a truly undignified sound. You are not refusing him – you wish for assistance.

“Yes.” He says lowly and seriously, taking the necklace back.

You beam again, then turn your back to him and bow your head to give him access to your neck. Tsu’tey’s heart thumps dully in his chest at the display of trust and vulnerability, though he keeps his face carefully still.

As he reaches out and slips the necklace around your neck, he gives in to his weakness and allows his fingers to drift over your shoulder. Your skin is so soft, your frame lacking the lean hard musculature that is so common among his own people, and he allows himself a moment to admire the feeling of you beneath his hands before finally beginning to tie the two ends of the necklace together.

He can feel you breathing carefully beneath his hands, the steady rise and fall of your chest matching the thumping rhythm of his own heart. The blood is rushing through his ears as his knuckles brush over one of the knobs of your spine at the base of your neck and you shiver in response.

Success, his instincts are screaming at him. Success.

When he finally pulls his hands back, you turn to look at him through your eyelashes behind your breathing mask. The corner of his mouth twitches as he eyes the way the necklace sits above your collarbones; a perfect fit.

It probably goes without saying that you have accepted his advances, but the customs of the Sky People are odd and he wants to make certain.

“You accept, then?” He asks, reaching out and settling his fingers over the woven fibres of the necklace. You’re small under his hand – his fingers reach one of your shoulders and his palm reaches the other, dwarfing you.

Your head tilts, a little frown creasing your brow, before you smile and nod. “Of course I accept it. It’s very lovely. I’m honoured. I didn’t know that you made your own jewelry.”

The last piece of mating jewelry he had crafted had been a bracelet for Sylwanin. It’s not something that he wants to think about right now, so he shrugs roughly.

“I do not, usually. This is different.”

“Oh.” You say, a little breathlessly.

Tsu’tey’s tail twitches recklessly. It’s time for the next step.

“I would take you to my hut.” He begins cautiously, watching your face. “It is finished now. I have made it comfortable.”

You blink, and take a careful breath. He wonders what you’re thinking.

“I would like that.” You say quietly, your eyes drifting towards his tail, which is twitching as he awaits your answer.

Triumph soars in his chest, and a slow smile begins to spread over his face. This feels better than any hunt, any accolade, any success he has previously enjoyed. This one is his and his alone – you see him, you want to be his just as he wants to be yours.

You appear to get flustered, and look down at his twitching tail in an apparent effort to distract yourself. You watch the movement, your own lips beginning to curve, before you reach out to touch it.

Tsu’tey goes entirely still, his eyes flaring wider in surprise. He doesn’t pull away, watching intently as your fingers trail over the thin, sensitive skin of his tail. It is bold of you, so bold it nearly steals his breath away.

“You’re like a cat.” You say, and laugh.

Tsu’tey has no idea what that means, and just continues to stare at you. You’re still holding his tail in your warm, soft hand. The fact that he isn’t pulling away seems to embolden you even more, before you start to bite your lip as you look up at him.

Tsu’tey takes a soft, quiet breath – do you even know what you’re doing to him right now? Desire is beginning to pool, dark and hot, in his belly as your fingers stroke absently over the thin skin of his tail, your liquid eyes gazing up at him with that shy, enigmatic little smile playing over your face.

Slow and steady, he tells himself firmly, fighting to stay composed. He doesn’t want to scare you away by moving too quickly, but your soft warm hands and sweet little smiles are making it terribly difficult. He wants to touch you back, but he doesn’t want to startle you.

“Sorry,” You murmur, apparently growing self-conscious. You begin to pull back. “I didn’t mean to-”

“You may touch me.” He interrupts before you pull too far back. He has been intimate with women before, but this moment with you feels infinitely more intimate and illicit than anything he has experienced before.

You watch him in return, eyes bright. Is he imagining the excitement on your face, mirroring his own feelings?

Slowly, you trace up his tail. His skin shivers under your touch, but he doesn’t pull away. In fact, he leans in a little closer as your fingers move from his tail to his chest, tracing over the lighter stripes on his skin. It feels as though your touch is leaving trails of heat in its wake, and he fights to keep his breathing steady and even as your eyes follow the path of your fingers.

His own fingers twitch, but he keeps his hands to himself. He wants to give this to you, to allow you the opportunity to be in charge of this moment. You’ve always been curious, and watching you exploring his own body only stokes his desire – but he holds back. He will be patient, and he will take this slow. He wants to do this whole thing right.

Your fingers trail down over the defined muscles of his abdomen, and he flexes entirely on instinct. You must like what you see, because your smile turns bashful as you trace your way around his waist.

He’s so preoccupied with watching your face that he doesn’t watch where your hands go next. It means that he is taken entirely by surprise when he feels your delicate, small fingers wrap around his kuru.

His back goes ramrod straight, his eyes flaring wide in shock. It was an innocent touch, only wrapping around the protective braid curiously, but the sheer fact that his prospective mate, wearing the mating gift he had made, holds the most intimate and sacred part of him in their hands has his toes curling into the dirt where you sit.

A jolt of pure, liquid elation jolts down his spine. No partner of his has ever touched his kuru – it was saved specifically for a mate. And though you may not be capable of making tsaheylu with him, the sheer sensation of you holding this sacred part of him nearly makes his vision white out.

“Oh!” He hears your voice say as though from a distance. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep-!”

He’s sure his pupils are blown wide, his ears alert and hot. He wants to reassure you that your overstep is most welcome, but it feels as though his brain has half-melted.

“Tsu’tey?”

He comes back to himself, though his thoughts are still scattered. As he regains some of his awareness, he realises that his desire is beginning to grow obvious beneath his loincloth.

Fuck. He was meant to be taking it slow! He couldn’t invite you to his hut and then grow so visibly aroused in front of you; it was not honourable, and he did not want you to feel pressured.

He lurches backwards, nearly sprawling in the dirt. It’s a graceless movement, ungainly and unlike him, but then again all of this is entirely outside of his realm of experience.

You’re staring at him with wide eyes and an open mouth, your hand still raised in midair.

“I have to go.” He says sharply, pushing himself to his feet. It’s all he can think to do to preserve both of your dignities before he ruins his careful courtship plans with his own reckless desires.

“But-” You start, your face crumpling. “Am I still invited-”

“I must go,” He repeats, hastily angling himself so that you can’t see his front.

He takes several firm steps away before hesitating, then turns back to look at you. “Tomorrow. You may come back tomorrow.”

You still look utterly bewildered, but Tsu’tey hurries away all the same. As he goes, he adjusts his tewng as surreptitiously as possible.

Despite his tactical retreat, he feels more optimistic than he has in a long time. As he approaches the village he feels a feral triumphant grin begin to grow over his face. That likely could have gone smoother at the end, but overall he finds himself feeling impossibly pleased with himself.

He has succeeded at his attempt at courting a human, and he has done so without Jakesully’s help. You have accepted all his gifts, you agreed to come and see his hut, and judging by the way you had groped at his tail and his kuru, physical attraction certainly wouldn’t be a problem for either of you.

It has left him excited for tomorrow, and yearning for more of your soft little hands against his skin.

#tsu'tey x reader #tsu'tey imagines #tsu'tey #avatar 2 #avatar x reader #avatar way of water #na'vi x reader #na'vi x human #alien x human #avatar 2009 #terato

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 3 months ago

Text

Sweeter Than Revenge Part 3

Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)

Series Masterlist

“Where the fuck is she, Owens!”

He turned towards whoever had just spoken—the voice was very familiar even though your sleep-hazed mind couldn’t place it—and held up his hands. “Why don’t we all just calm down an—”

Nostrils flaring, Scott yelled, “How about the fact you’ve been alone with my little sister for the past four hours? I’ve been trying to call and text her but she hasn’t answered.”

“If you laid a single finger on her—”

Scott recovered slightly, but though he tried to bite back with the same fury as before, it seemed dulled by the force of Tyler’s words. “And you do?”

Scott sneered at Tyler. “You’ve known her for a few hours and you think you know her better than someone who’s known her her entire life?”

“Yeah. I do.”

Maybe you should have taken him up on his offer to carry you after all.

You hummed a soft agreement before, a few dozen steps later, reluctantly pulling yourself away from Tyler as you reached the correct door. “Well, this is me.”

“Me too, sweetheart.”

You blinked, butterflies blooming in your chest. “R-really?”

“Yeah. I had a really nice time tonight. It’s not every day I meet someone like you and I’d like to see more.”

Fidgeting with the strap on your purse, you nodded, “I’d like to see more of you too. Maybe you could let me come on a chase with you or something?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Then he had to go and kiss your hand like some handsome cowboy prince charming! What the fuck.

Part 4 coming 9/2!

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