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delusionalwh6re · 5 months ago

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࿐࿔ ⋆ ｡˚ a helping hand

࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ aged up!neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader

summary: it’s late at night and you’re struggling. not only can you not fall asleep but there’s a sudden ache in your core. now what type of mate would neteyam be if he didn’t help you?

warnings: 🔞NEASSTYY smut, masterbation, fingering, missionary, riding, doggystyle, p in v, squirting, can’t spell mother without mo’at, neteyam being jumpscared but then turn into a freak, reader has no shame, & dirty talk

authore note: i had a daydream abt this and needed it come to life 😫 (unlike neteyam) & yall if i make a taglist would anyone wanna be apart of it LMAO 🧍🏽‍♀️hope this makes up for my mini absence on not posting 😇

bye this took forever.. guys pls don’t be shy, i loveeee any type of feedback 🥲

You let out a long sigh in exhaustion as you dropped the second batch of medicine you just made. You couldn’t understand what was going on with you. This was happening all day today, constant screw ups and honestly you were over it.

Inhaling a deep breath in attempt to calm yourself, you started cleaning up the herbs. As you were cleaning up, you failed to notice the presence of your tsahík making you slightly startled.

“What is this?” Mo’at gestured to the mess on the floor. Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment and you squeaked out a little “Hi”

She sighed and walked over to your kneeling position. You pursed your lips feeling disappointed in yourself. “My child” Mo’at grabbed you from out of your thoughts “You need to relax”

Your tensed shoulders slowly started easing at her words. “I apologize” you muttered respectfully. “It is alright dear, now tell me what is bothering you” she walked in front of you putting her hands out for you to grab. With her words of encouragement, you picked yourself off of the ground. Avoiding her cold harden gaze you felt your emotions rushing back to you.

While looking around the healing tent your eyes accidentally landed on hers. Her eyes piercing directly into yours commanding an answer.

“I feel like a failure” you finally admitted. “What makes you feel that way?” she questioned motioning you to sit on the mat beside her.

“Many women in the past have succeeded beyond my level. Why am I so far behind? I should be able to do this, how can i ever be tsahík if I can’t complete a simple task such as making medicine?” you huffed in frustration after your rant. Mo’at gave you an understanding look before taking her hands in yours “Child, it takes time” she started “but I don’t have much time! Neteyam is granted to be olo’eyktan soon and-” you stated before it was her turn to cut you off.

“What does Neteyam becoming olo’eyktan soon have to do with any of this?” she squinted her eyes at you. “He is my mate” you shrugged. “Exactly , he is your mate, not your conjoined twin!” she exclaimed causing you to let out a breathy chuckle.

“The two of you are completely different people. His learning pace is different than yours and that is okay. Neteyam has been training since he was in the womb, he’s meant for this” your eyes landed on hers as you digested what she was saying. “You on the other hand, have not. You didn’t expect to mate with my grandson but I am glad that you did” she looked you up and down with a sigh of relief.

“Why you say it like that?” you laughed at her sudden look of disapproval. She looked at you with a straight face “I was afraid our village would’ve come to doom had Neteyam picked any of those thirsty women, I don’t know how their mothers do it” she spoke with an eye roll at the memory of many annoying girls trying to get neteyam to court them.

‘What a time’ you thought. Before you and neteyam had become mates, when the two of you were just friends. Time had really gone fast.

Mo’at noticed your dazed out expression knowing you were thinking about your progressive relationship with her grandson. She smiled seeing a bit of herself in you when she had her own mate. She used to be in this exact situation which is why she was able to relate to you.

Snatching you out of your thoughts once again she spoke up breaking the newfound comfortable silence “I used to be in your exact position” your attention went back on her with hopeful eyes “For real? but you’re the best tsahik we’ve ever had” you rambled “I know” she smiled in pride causing you to giggle.

“My point is, practice makes perfect. That is a term i have learned from the sky people here and it is one of the only things they said that are true. You will not get it the first tries, but don’t give up and keep going. Success will come your way, my child” she nodded her head at you in approval

You nodded your head back and felt a sudden rush of confidence run through you. If Mo’at who was honestly one of the strongest people you knew was able to run this clan, so could you.

“You give me hope Ma’ Tsahík” you smiled at her gently squeezing her hands “Oh please, we discussed this, you can call me grandmother” you placed your arms around her for a well needed hug. She tensed before relaxing as she hugged you back with genuine love.

“Besides, I have hopes that there will soon be little ones calling me great grandmother” she pulled away with a smirk and hope glistening in her eyes. A blush crept onto your cheek before laughing at what she was implying “You’re funny”

She began walking you towards the makeshift door to exit out of the healing tent as you discussed your plans for tomorrow. Your ikran landing on a nearby cliff after sensing your presence. Before you were able to fully leave Mo’at reminded you of something “Don’t forget the war party returns tonight, I will not be present but will you able to make sure everyone is in one piece?”

Your eyes widened in realization, Neteyam was returning in a few hours. He had went on a one week hunting trip and you had been missing him like crazy. How could you forget? You figured spending time with Mo’at and being occupied your mind had let that slip.

“Fuck” you mumbled. “Yes! I can do that don’t worry! I’ll see you tomorrow grandmother. Take some rest you deserve it” you yelled out as you sprinted towards your ikran to go home.

You had spent all day at the healing tent that you had no time to prepare for Neteyam’s return. Even though he told you multiple times that as long as you were there he is more than satisfied and he just needed to be wrapped around you.

However, you were still insistent on setting atleast something up for him, what kind of wife would you be? Neteyam was the best husband any one could ever asked for. Always putting you and others above himself, making several sacrifices and just being overall selfless. So you had no problem with being a little housewife.

Once your ikran had landed at the home that Neteyam literally built for your future family. You felt your body getting excited at his soon to come arrival, you had missed your man dearly and you knew once you were in his arms all your problems will disappear.

“My love? I’m home” Neteyam called out as he walked through the door. Immediately frowning once he didn’t see you, however he did notice several candles lit up so he knew you were home.

Walking towards the candles he also noticed a platter of his favorite foods. A smile emerged on his face he bent down to sit as he waited for you since he was sure you would reveal yourself any second. His guess was correct as you slowly appeared in the makeshift door way of your home in a newly made outfit “Welcome home handsome”

Neteyam’s ears perked up at the sound of your voice and your scent. Turning around to finally have a look as his eyes widened. Your azure skin was complimented by green and blue jewels. Your loincloth and top were scattered with them, along with small purple crystals dangling from the pieces. Your cleavage was on display just for him but also not enough in order to tease him. You took your braids out so your hair had the most perfect waves which was a style you knew Neteyam adored.

The forest inspired outfit you had done left him completely star struck. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on, and you were all for him. He was so in awe of you he didn’t even notice you were now sat next to him until you said something.

“Handsome you alright? Welcome home” you placed a hand on his cheek before placing a gentle but loving kiss on his lips. He decided to make a move by tilting his head to deepen the kiss, slickly sliding his tongue once you let out a small gasp into his mouth. You giggled into the kiss at his antics causing him to giggle with you before he playfully bit your lip with a smirk.

The two of you leaned away to finally look into the other’s eyes. His eyes were full with so much love you swore they would’ve burst. “Hi beautiful” he rubbed your cheek softly. You nuzzled your face into his hand with a contented sigh finally feeling at peace.

Your gaze met his as a sigh left his mouth. “What is it?” you lifted your head. He stared at you not saying anything. You started becoming nervous under his gaze and debated whether this was too much or not. You were about to speak up about his behavior until he beat you to it.

“You’re just so” he paused to take another moment to admire you “so so beautiful” his voice lowered as his eyes trailed downwards. A heat started to spread across your cheeks as you smiled at him.

For he rest of the night the two of you caught up on everything. He explained how he made several successful kills during the hunt leading to you giving him kisses in reward as you praised him. On the other hand, you came clean to him about how your tsahík training was actually going. He could tell you were very stressed out, encouraging you to take your time and not worry because he will be by your side every step of the way.

Your mind was racing with thoughts as Neteyam peacefully slept on your chest. The two of you cuddled up on your shared bed. After talking for a few hours, time caught up to Neteyam and his tiredness consumed him. You were very understanding and insisted on him getting some rest, even including yourself by laying with him.

But as time went on you couldn’t help but think about the time he was gone. How many nights you were forced to fall asleep without a release. As you debated with yourself on what to do, your mind eventually came to a conclusion. Trying to be as quiet as possible, you gently pushed Neteyam of you, still beside him so he wouldn’t wake up, while slowly trailing your hand down your loincloth.

You were so close. The pit of your stomach tightening more and more with each flick to your clit. It was like you were running to the finish line in slow motion, yet almost there. In just a couple of seconds that knot would finally snapped and you would be stress free. Which is what you desperately needed.

So caught up in your own bliss you didn’t realize the movement from beside you, right when your core was at its peak your fingers stopped at what you heard, losing your hard worked orgasm.

“What are you doing?” Neteyam asked in a quiet voice staring at the side of your face. Your heart physically stopped and dropped for a second. Eywa please say this was just a dream, but no, this was actually a nightmare.

You heard shuffling next to you and finally got the courage to look over at him only to be met with a blank stare “Go ‘head, continue” he licked his lips looking you up and down

You shook your head as frustrated tears filled your eyes. He chuckled before looking down in disbelief “Nah, you wanted to touch yourself right? So finish before I do it for you”

At his words you swore your orgasm would’ve just shot right out of you despite no physical contact, his words just had that affect on you. You bit your lip in anticipation as you pulled your hand away from your pussy and spread your legs further

“Please” you whimpered looking up at him desperately. “Please what baby?” his head tilted as he caressed your cheek lovingly. “Touch me” you whispered dragging his other hand down to your now dripping cunt. He snarled before cupping your pussy while slightly grinding his palm against your throbbing clit.

“Oh I’m gonna do more than touch you, just wait” he smiled before leaning over to kiss a trail across your stomach. Your breath hitched, you were in for it now. “Neteyam” you whined as his lips got more aggressive on your skin. “A week without my attention and you just don’t know how to act, huh?” he shook his head. Your breath got caught in your throat “That’s not true” your voice was barely a whisper.

“It’s not? Over here touchin’ yourself while i’m sleeping right there. You wanted to get caught, didn’t you yawne?” he hovered over you

“Maybe” you bit your lip seductively as the excitement of all of this grew inside of you

He dragged a finger along your slit, gathering up some already built up slick. “All you gotta do is think ‘bout me huh?” he asked looking up at you. “And look at you” you replied cheeky with a lopsided grin. Deciding to be bold, you grabbed onto his hand to press it against your soaked pussy.

“This is what you do to me Neteyam” you moved his hand up and down slowly as wet sounds started filling up the room. He growled as he inhaled your scent “dirty girl”

You laughed breathless as your previous orgasm slowly approached you again. Neteyam, being an expert in your body language already knew this as he continued to watch you, allowing you to use him for pleasure. It’s what you been doing while he was away anyways.

He licked his lips before trailing kisses all over your body. Starting from your cheek, to your neck, then your chest and as he moved downwards his kisses became more aggressive on your stomach. Each time a kiss ended a ‘pop’ would be heard.

You gasped when his slender finger suddenly slipped in, a smirk on his face. He curled his finger at the perfect angle, hitting that squishy spot inside of you that he knew always drove you crazy.

“Oh! I’m so close” you whimpered within seconds. Neteyam helping you reach your peak with ease. “Go ‘head, let it out” he sloppily kissed your clit. At the much needed contact your orgasm flowed right through you. Your mouth opened as a silent scream left you.

“Yeah, yeah make that pussy squirt for me” he spoke lowly rubbing your puffy clit at a fast pace to work you through your orgasm. “Teyam” you whined trying to close your thighs around his hand.

“Unt unt, no, we’re not done” he sat up looking down at you. Your eyes widened as you watched his hands move towards his loincloth to untie it. You inhaled a deep breath at the sight of his cock now in your view. He loosened his loincloth completely as it was now pooled at the bottom of thighs, removing it entirely and throwing it across the room.

“You’ve been so, so greedy. Tell me, do you want it slow or for me to fuck you like I’ve been dying to do?” his voice came out raspy as he placed lighthearted kisses against your neck.

Your body stiffened, your words getting stuck in your throat as you didn’t know what to say. “I-I- just need you Teyam. So bad” you whined.

“How bad baby?” his eyes met yours as he stroked his cock directly in front of your warm sex. His bottom lip was trapped between his teeth, a wet sound could be heard from the amount of pre cum gathered on his tip. You were so incredibly turned on by him, your body proving that as your cunt clenched around nothing.

“So bad, I want-need you to destroy me.” you ran your hands across his chest. “Fuck me until i have nothing left to give, stuff me to the brim, I want it all, I can take it. I’ll be your good girl, I promise” and if he wasn’t already turned on by just the pure sight of you the words that left your mouth was enough for him to slide his dick inside of you.

The both of you let out long moans at the familiar feeling. Having to be away from each other for a long period of time was hard, but now you guys were together, intertwined.

“Fuuuckk” he moaned looking down at the source of pleasure. You whined and brought your legs to wrap around his waist, bringing him closer to place kisses all over his face.

“I’m all yours, all yours” you whispered in his ear before kissing it gently

“Yeah? You’re all mine? Say that shit again”

“I’m all yours neteyam” a whine leaving your mouth as he grinded on top of you creating the perfect amount of friction

He purred quietly at your words, nuzzling the side of his face into yours and bringing you into a much needed kiss. Causing you to mumble against his lips “I love you”

“I love you more” he placed his hands onto your hips. “You gonna let me fuck you? You’re gonna be good and take it right? he sat up to look down at you.

You pushed your hips up, hoping to answer his question. Circling your hips to feel some friction as he bottomed out inside of you, smirking at him.

Finally feeling satisfied with your response, he started to move. “Shit” he groaned as he felt your sticky walls contract around him. He smirked at your not so slick antics before starting to thrust inside of you. Your whines started to fill up the room along with quiet slapping noises. “Oh Neteyam!” you moaned out scratching his back.

“I been waiting to fuck you for so long baby, I’m right here” he growled in your ear, placing one of his hands on your hips to steady his harsh thrusts.

You started letting out soft moans feeling him go deeper and deeper, your juices making it easier for him to hit spots inside of you only he could reach.

You screamed as his hands made its way behind your thighs to hold them up in the air. Taking this as a sign, your hands replaced his as you now held onto the back of your thighs. “Good girl” he mumbled drilling his dick inside of you

“Mhm, dick- so, so good, yes!” you babbled out complete nonsense but he knew what you were trying to say. “This dick is just soooo good, huh?” he chuckled teasingly

His pace was becoming almost painful but in the most pleasurable way possible as he continued fucking you relentlessly. Pushing your thighs all the up so they were pressed firmly against your chest. Completely folding you just the way he wanted, not having any mercy on you or your poor cunt.

The most obscene sounds consuming the room, all that could be heard is skin slapping, your fucked out screams and his grunts.

“Ugh, don’t stop! Right there, Oh right there!” you whimpered as he jackhammered your pussy

“I’m not gonna stop my love, this pussy is way too good” he mumbled rolling his hips into you as his thrusts became sloppy. You felt your stomach tightening and your cunt clenching rapidly as a signal you were close.

“You’re gonna make me cum” you moaned as you held onto him for dear life. he reached down to be face to face with you before whispering in your ear “Then cum my love”

At his words you completely let go with a scream as you threw your head back. Your orgasm leaked out of you making your privates even wetter. You weren’t embarrassed per say, but every time this happens you kind of shy away from it. Neteyam on the other hand never did and he found it so attractive, he was the only one who got you like this.

“We made a mess baby” he smirked before looking down between your bodies. ”I know” your cheeks heated up and you looked up away from him. “Nah, don’t be shy now” he laughed at you before leaning up to pull out of you, he assumed you were tired and wanted to call it quits, but oh your man just had no idea how badly you really needed him.

Within a couple of seconds, he was laid out on his back with you hovering over him. Your plump lips slightly swollen from the amount of kisses and moaning, the tits that he loved so much on a perfect eye level so he could trail his tongue around your sensitive nipples, your slim waist that he loved so much, fuck. you were truly a goddess on display.

“You’re so sexy” you moaned biting your lip as you rubbed your sensitive clit on his abs making them tense. Not that he was completely on soft anyways, but now he was rock hard again.

“Don’t play with me babe, if you wanna do something then do it” he smirked at you before he placed his bottom lip between his teeth. You smiled at him with pure adoration before reaching behind you to grab his wet cock to line it up with your drenched hole.

Sinking down onto him with a contented sigh, the familiar feeling of his dick filling you up once again. Light moans from you and Neteyam filling up the hut. A hum from Neteyam catching your attention, his head firm against the pillow as his mouth slowly formed in an ‘O’ shape.

You felt your insides tingling knowing you were the reason because of that, bringing him pleasure. Catching him out of a trance you rolled your pelvis against his, his tip kissing your g spot perfectly.

“Baby” he whispered lowly as his eyes were hooded as he looked at you. “Yes?” You smiled bringing a hand to his neck up to his cheek. “C’mon” he impatiently moved your hips back and forth signaling what he wanted

With a proud smirk on your face, you made sure your knees were placed firmly beside his hips while perching yourself on your tippy toes for balance. “Ready?” you adjusted to his size

“Always” he cockily bit his lip and closed his eyes as he began to relax while you fucked him. Gathering up the confidence, you pushed your hips up until his throbbing tip was the only thing inside of you before slamming back down.

A loud moan left the both of you. You looked at Neteyam through your lashes; his eyes slightly rolling to the back of his head, he was enjoying this. Repeating the same action, each time a perfect stroke against your g spot causing you to cry out and drip. After gaining some rhythm with your hips, you were riding him like there was no tomorrow.

“Hmm, oh my gosh” you moaned loudly throwing your head back as you slammed down onto him harder, the pleasure consuming all parts of your body and you didn’t want it to stop. “So fucking- ugh” he was cut off when you started to circle your hips.

You leaned forward placing your hands beside his head as you placed your mouth by his ear. He smiled up at you before putting a hand on your lower back. Deciding to be bold, you moved your hips in a specific motion which led to his eyes widening in realization.

“Told you I’m all yours baby” you whined in his ear as you continued spelling his name with your hips

He placed a hard spank on your ass, a chuckle leaving his lips “Damn right you are, no one is ever fucking you the way I do right?”

You let out a moan once his hips roughly thrusted towards yours, him meeting your thrust more than half way. “Answer me” he demanded forcing your hips up and down. “N-no!” your voice shook as your guts got played in

“Neteyaaam” you moaned as your legs were starting to give out from his harsh thrusts. “Gonna cum, hm?” he trialed his thick tongue around your perky nipples, a bolt of electricity running through you due to the amount of pleasure.

“Yes! Yes please let me cum” you begged placing your hands on his shoulders. “I was never gonna deny you release baby” he laughed at your vulnerable state, clearly amused at how much you really needed him to fuck some brain cells back into you.

“Mhm, turn around” he moaned giving your ass a hard smack before gripping it gently. You gave him a smirk before placing your hands on his chest for balance while getting off of him. Turning around, making sure to give him a perfect view, your round ass on display just for him along with your slick pussy lips. He moaned at the sight before placing another firm slap on the flesh.

You giggled while sliding back on his thick cock that was desperately waiting for your dripping cunt “My ass is gonna fall off with how much you smack it”

“I don’t give a fuck, it’s mine right?” he smiled behind your back while gripping the flesh tightly with both hands. “Obsessed” you mumbled before leaning forward to place your hands on his knees for balance as you began going crazy on top of him.

“Yeah put it on me, juuuuusst like that” he moaned watching your ass ripple against his pelvis. “Oh! Mhm, I- FUCK!” you screamed using all your force to slam down onto him. Your eyes crossing as his warm sack met your clit.

“Damn mama” Neteyam looked in awe as strings of your juices started to create lines all over your privates; moans getting louder as the both of you approached your peaks.

“I’m gonna fucking cum” your voice getting higher after each word from every thrust into your core. “S-Same time baby” he stuttered holding onto your hips as the knot in his stomach finally unraveled.

His seed flowing through you was enough to trigger your own orgasm as you let go on top of him. Your guys’ cum now mixed together pooled all over each other’s thighs.

Your breathing slowly became steady as your legs staggered while trying to get off of him. “Let me help you” a raspy voice was heard behind you. However, it wasn’t long until you were set up face down ass up.

“You’re actually trying to kill me” you muttered turning your head to look back at Neteyam. “Kill the cat” he winked at you while playing with your swaying tail.

You bit back a smile before pushing your ass back onto him; making sure to hold eye contact with him the whole time. An obvious smirk on your lips as you teased him.

You were caught off guard by a stinging pain on your right cheek. “You know what-” you started before being caught off by a harsh thrust into your cunt.

Neteyam set a merciless rhythm from the beginning. He was determined to have you worn out by the end of this round, wanting you to sleep real good in his arms tonight which is right where you belonged.

“NETEYAM!” you screamed plunging your face into the sheets as you gripped onto them tightly causing your knuckles to turn white. “I really wish you could see this baby” he groaned watching himself go in and out

“Oh great mother! Yes!” you moaned as he impaled you from behind; another orgasm quickly approaching unsurprisingly. “Yeah? You wanna see this too right?” he gripped your hips

“Mhm, baby please” you didn’t know what you were saying please for but both of you had an idea that you just didn’t want him to stop. He laughed “Maybe next time I should just take one of those cameras then, could just make our own movie, so every time I’m away you’ll have something. Keep you in check of exactly who this pussy belongs to”

You moaned loudly at his words and clenched around him tightly as you came on him for the third time tonight. “That’s what the fuck I’m talking ‘bout!” he bit his bottom lip; tugging on your hair to lift you up.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as his pace increased. With every firm thrust he sent you he smashed against your sweet spot that had you trembling “I-I caaan’t”

“You can take it though right? Wanna be big and bad every other time” he mumbled under his breath now rolling his hips into you; his pace changing to slow but deeper

“Too big” you whispered as your thighs shook. He bit his lips admiring your form before planting kisses all over your back “I want you to think of everything I just did to you the next time you touch yourself, you hear me?”

You nodded your head letting out a soft moan “Babeee, I can’t stop cumming, feel so full, feels so fucking good”

He soothed your cries with a gentle rub on your ass to calm you “I got you, just let it out, you been good like you promised”

“I love you, Neteyam! I love you soo much” you sobbed as he picked up his pace again in attempt to make both of you guys cum. His dick bullying its way all throughout your stomach, hitting all of the right places.

“I love you sooo much more, beautiful. Cum all over this dick, you deserve it” he spoke softly tightening his grip on your hair.

You came with a cry of his name, your jaw dropping as pleasure washed over you for the fifth time in a row. Your body slowly giving up on you, but a smile was plastered on your face as you got what you’ve desperately been wanting.

“Shiiit” he whimpered as your juices ran down your body getting his cock wetter than before; the position you were in not helping at all as he looked down before suddenly busting his load inside of you.

You hummed in satisfaction as you rolled your hips back towards his still ones, letting the moment die down peacefully. As exhaustion washed over the both of you, it was time to cuddle up. Neteyam got up to go across the room to clean you up with gentleness and care. You even cleaned him up aswell leading to you guys being extra lovey dovey with one another.

The two of you were inseparable. Now finally settled in your shared home, in bed, peacefully. Your queues now connected together as you guys let your minds speak to each other, letting the other know how much they were loved.

In the end it was all worth it…

#neteyam #avatar the way of water #avatar #atwow #avatar smut #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #atwow fanfiction #neteyamsmut #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam sully #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #i need him #dick me down #this took forever to make #neteyam avatar

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nanpecan · 4 months ago

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₊✩‧₊˚once more to see you˚₊✩‧₊

{nanami x f!reader}

˚₊✩‧₊summary: You're a manager at Jujutsu Kaisen and happen to get assigned to driving a rank 1 sorcerer you've had a crush on for a while. Everything seems to be going as normal until an interaction with a curse leaves him a little hot and bothered.

˚₊✩‧₊tags: nanami x fem!reader, explicit smut (mdni) !!

˚₊✩‧₊ word count: 5.6k

˚₊✩‧₊author's note: this has been in my head for so long and I guess its part one to a longer story but who knows if I'll ever get around to writing it, yet alone posting it. anyways first time, kinda nervous; this is super self indulgent and i'm not even sorry about it.

˚₊✩‧₊this is also kind of inspired by this Mitski song, hence the title. I love this song, I think it's very Nanami coded<3

˚₊✩‧₊all parts here! pt 2. pt 3. pt 4. pt 5.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

An obsession.

That’s what it was.

A rush of emotion when you caught even the smallest glance of him.

Always in a hurry.

Always somewhere to be.

Never paying any mind to you.

This lifestyle was a rushed one and you hardly ever found time for yourself, but your mind always seemed to have a second to wonder about him.

Was he safe? Was he injured?

You had heard about him through others.

You had really only seen him in action from a distance, once, and very briefly. But that had been enough to develop this stupid crush.

You were a busy body, nothing but a cushion to the real missions of importance.

You had come to accept that you would never really matter past making it from point A to point B, with whatever message you had to deliver, or whoever you had to transport for the day.

You were secretly content with the position. You had started because you wanted to make a difference.

But you knew you were a coward.

You had the spirit but lacked the physical strength to back it. And that made you afraid.

“Nanami Kento.”

Your hand stopped mid air as you reached for your phone.

“I’m sorry?” You must have misheard.

“You owe me one.” Akari said with a smirk. The head manager had been one of your closest friends since you had begun working as an assistant. You had similar pasts and were around the same age, so you had instantly clicked. She was very much aware of your infatuation even if you hadn’t directly expressed it. She could see right through you every time you tried to feign indifference whenever the topic of Nanami was brought up.

“Nanami needs transportation to his next mission. He usually goes on his own, but the client insisted he gets driven to this location specifically.” There was something suspicious about that last statement, but you dismissed it as she kept talking. “Ijichi is busy dealing with something so it was passed down to me.” She smiled again and shrugged. “But I have some very important business to take care of so I’m passing it on to someone I trust is more than qualified to drive a sorcerer of his class.” She winked at you. “Don’t worry about the briefing he’s been sent all the information. All you have to do is drive him there and back.”

You looked down at your phone and tried to act nonchalant. Until you saw the details. “Today?”

She nodded. “Sorry for the last minute switch up, I figured you’d get in your own head if you had too much time to think about it. Make a good first impression. I’m rooting for you!” She gave you two thumbs up and laughed.

You tapped your finger against the wheel nervously. You had never been more nervous to drive. It’s okay, you thought to yourself, nothing is going to happen, I doubt he’ll even speak to me. He’s not much of a talker, and besides, he always carries around a newspaper or a book. He won’t be paying attention to me. Just focus on-

You flinched as you heard the passenger door open. You had expected him to sit behind you.

You felt your stomach drop as Nanami was suddenly next to you. It was almost overwhelming, his size, his smell, his warmth.

You stared ahead awkwardly and felt his gaze on you. You turned to look at him trying not to seem too flustered.

“Ah, good afternoon.” You smiled warmly at him. “Um, I’m y/n.” You said.

He nodded and didn’t say anything back.

“Right, it should take us around 36 minutes to get to your location.”

He nodded again, his glasses turning to his watch. He suddenly looked up and stared ahead, as to signal that he was ready to head out.

This was so awkward. It was kind of making it easier to be around him. You didn’t know what else you expected. You’d actually preferred the silence rather than trying to carry a conversation with him. At least that’s what you were telling yourself.

“Feel free to mess with the radio. I don’t have any preferences.”

“I prefer to sit in silence before missions.” His voice sent a chill up your spine. Wait a minute, in silence? Weird. You thought to yourself. “Is that okay?”

“Yes, that’s fine too.” Really weird. Most sorcerers would listen to something to amp them up before a mission. For Kusabe that was smooth Jazz, Yuki would put on 80’s Japanese Rock Classics, Ino would put on Ska and you couldn’t help but laugh the first time he requested it. You smirked at the memory and felt his eyes on you again. You dropped the smile and clenched your jaw. “Alright, we’ll be off then.” He hadn’t stopped staring. You quickly turned to look at him and smiled warmly. He turned away, seeming flustered. You quickly made a note of his reaction and you felt your stomach flutter a bit. You let your eyes linger on him for a bit longer, as he tugged at an invisible string on his suit, before turning away and driving off.

You arrived at your location and looked up at the old building. You bit your lip to hold back a laugh. The crooked neon sign over the door was no longer lit up but you could still read out what it said, ‘Paradise X Massage.’ You curiously looked over to see Nanami’s reaction. As usual, he was stoic.

He has to know what that means, right? You went around the car to stand next to him and the moment you took a step closer you felt the aura of the building. A shiver went up your spine and your stomach felt tingly. You couldn’t help but smile. A curse born from a place of sex was bound to have this kind of aura.

Things started to click. Of course Nanami was the best sorcerer for the job. He would take this very seriously. You doubted he ever let his emotions get ahead of him. You thought back to a story Ijichi had told you a long time ago about a group of male sorcerers that had been sent to exorcise a type of Kejoro, only for them to return unsuccessful, unable to carry out the mission, as well as being hot and bothered for a week.

You felt Nanami’s eyes on you again. You looked at him before turning back at the sign and scrunching your face. “Nanami, I wouldn’t have taken you for this type of man, but don’t worry I won’t tell.” You winked at him and cringed at your stupid joke. You didn’t know him like that. He probably thought you were insane.

“Thank you, I try not to make it a habit.” He said back with a small smile.

You looked at him a little surprised and laughed.

“There you are, hello!” A sweaty man with beady eyes came your way and beelined to Nanami. “My name is Gonji, I was the one who sent for you.” He glanced at your direction before turning his back to you to speak with Nanami. You blinked and grimaced. “I bought this location five months ago, I should have known there was something wrong for the price I paid, but hey! That’s business! I’m planning on fixing her up and turning it into a real refined establishment if you know what I mean. I already have the clientele, and the girls but this damn thing keeps scaring the girls away and-“ he whispered the next words. “-killed three of my guys. But hey, that’s business!” He laughed nervously. He was talking a mile a minute, becoming more and more sweaty. The air had to be getting to him. “Anyway I’ve already called a bunch of weirdos to go in there and kill the damn thing but they were all useless. Scammers all of them.” He spat at the ground. “Hey if ya help me out, I’m sure we can work out some sort of discount for you once we’re up and running. What do you say, your choice of girl-“

“Has it taken any hostages?” Nanami cut him off.

“No it only scares off the girls, but lets them out. The men on the other hand…If they do manage to make it out they act like wild animals. I have to keep them away from my girls.” He laughed and then erupted into a coughing fit. “That’s why I recommend you bring a driver. Even if you do kill this thing, the tent in your pants won’t let you focus on anything else for another two hours.” He cackled and elbowed Nanami in a playful manner. Nanami’s jaw clenched and he stared down at the man. Gonji didn’t seem to notice. He finally turned towards you. “Well at least you brought yourself a cute mouse to play with if it gets to be too much.” You couldn’t hide the look of disgust on your face when he finally looked at you. “Hey there little lady, a smile might help.” He rolled his eyes and turned back to Nanami. “Women these days. Can’t take a joke.” He tried elbowing Nanami again and was stopped by Nanami’s large hand grabbing his forearm.

“We’ll get started. Did you want to go inside with me?” Nanami asked the man.

Gonji pulled his arm out of Nanami’s grasp and swore at him under his breath. “No, I’m taking off. I have places to go, people to see, although I’d pay god knows what to see that bitch’s blood spilled on the floor.” He looked around and picked up a rock before weakly throwing it at the sign. He missed, it didn’t even hit the wall. He messed with his jacket, embarrassed. “I’ll be leaving now. I’ll send the payment tomorrow when I come and see the place again.” He waddled off.

“What a fucking dickhead.” You said. “We shouldn’t even exorcise this curse. He shouldn’t be allowed to run a place like that. I’m willing to bet-“

“Will you put up the barrier?” You turned back to Nanami and nodded before muttering the incantation. Nanami awkwardly placed a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.” He turned towards the barrier. “For the record I agree. Scum like him are a scourge to society and should be dealt with accordingly. For now let’s bring this curse some peace.”

“Let’s.” You said in agreement. You watched him disappear into the veil.

You leaned back against the car and checked the time on your watch. He had been gone for 20 minutes now. You sighed. Was it an insult to worry about him? He was one of the best - in your heavily biased opinion.

You heard your phone ding from inside the car as you received a message and you quickly went around to check it.

-So when’s the wedding?

Akari was checking in on you.

-answer me this, what does it mean when someone doesn’t want to listen to any music on a 30 minute drive.

-No music? Like at all? -none. -weird.

-that’s what I was thinking! he must be fighting demons in his head. -or he just wanted to savor every minute with you<3 -shut up. -how’s it going anyway? -don’t you have “important” business to take care of? -:p boooo -it’s fine, it’s some sort of sex cu-

You jumped as the back passenger door to your right was suddenly being opened. You felt the car shake as Nanami collapsed into the seats.

“Shit, Nanami? Are you okay.” You should have been out there to greet him. You exited out of the car and dropped the veil. The building was a pile of rubble. You made your way around the car and yanked open the door.

You felt blood rush to your face and your jaw dropped as you looked at what lay in front of you.

Nanami had taken off his suit jacket, and was no longer wearing his glasses. He was suddenly desperately undoing his tie and fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, all the while breathing heavily. He turned away from you as you looked in.

“What’s wrong, are you injured? How can I help?” Your face felt hot as you watched him struggle with his clothes. You hesitated to move forward, unsure what to do.

He moved around a bit more, still struggling with his shirt, and you got a better look at him. His face was flush red and there was a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. He was panting, basically gasping for air. You stared at him feeling a burning in your chest as your heart beat in your ears.

You snapped out of your trance, this was not the time. He might be hurt. He had backed up enough to be leaning on the opposite car door so you moved forward and let the door shut behind you. “Let me help you with that.” You said softly, moving your hands closer to help him with the buttons. “Are you hurt?” You asked as he let out a soft grunt. “Let me take a look.” His hands fell to his side and you noticed he was gripping the seats. He winced away from your touch, hissing as your knee touched his thigh.

You froze. Your hands still on his shirt. He shuddered away from you but you felt him move his thigh forward, slightly, to touch your knee again. He let out a deep exhale and a muffled grunt. He repeated the movement again and again. You stayed there staring at him, face burning as you realized he was basically humping you. His breaths got faster and you felt the ghost of his hand on your back slowly pulling you closer. His inner thigh was now pushing into your knee repeatedly and you felt him slightly buckle his hips as his hand finally landed on your neck and pulled you forward. Your hands, still on his shirt buttons, pushed lightly against his chest and your head fell into the space above his shoulder, cheeks now next to each other. He pushed hard against your knee one more time and then you heard him moan deeply into your ear.

“Fuck.” You heard him mutter. His voice was full of frustration. “Fuck.” He said again.

You slowly pulled back, looking at him, completely in shock. He wasn’t meeting your gaze. He just kept muttering “fuck” and “sorry” under his breath.

You looked down and once again felt blood rush to your face as you realized what had happened.

Since his body was leaned back against the door, you had crawled closer to him and were now on your knees between his legs. You guessed at some point he had managed to undo his belt, the button to his trousers, and pulled down the zipper because you were staring at his erection through the fabric of his underwear. It was soaked.

You quickly pulled back away from him, somewhat losing your balance and placing your hands back down to steady yourself. Nanami lurched up as you placed your hands on his thighs and you watched as he came again. This time seeing the white liquid bleed through the fabric and drip down.

“I- I am so sorry.” You said quickly and started to back away. You needed to leave him alone. One of his hands grabbed onto your arm keeping you in place. You looked at him confused.

“No, stop,” he said, panting. “I’m sorry,” he said, finally looking into your eyes. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I apologize. This is bad. I can't control-“ he squeezed your arm a little as his eyes shut and his brows knit together. “I need...” he looked into your eyes and slowly moved closer to you. His face was inches away and you felt the warmth radiating off of him. He looked directly at you now and seemed to be looking for some sort of sign. His eyes were beautiful. You realized this was the first time you had seen them. “Please…” You continued to stare at him, in shock. He wriggled beneath you and let out a soft moan. “I need you.”

You understood.

You quickly moved closer to him, crashing your lips into his. He moaned into your mouth and desperately pressed his lips to yours. You pushed your tongue through his closed lips and he slightly opened his mouth meeting you with his own tongue. You let him slither his in yours before closing your mouth and tugging at his lips slightly. When you finally pulled back you were both panting heavily, a string of saliva connecting you. You looked down and saw he had come again.

“Y/N, please,” he took your hand and pulled it towards him. “I want…” you looked at him and smirked. Your eyes wandered down as he groaned again.

“What do you want?” You said mischievously. You looked back up.

“Please.” You had intended to tease him, but he looked so distraught and frazzled, you felt it would be too mean spirited. You nodded and let his hand guide you to his pants. You laid your hand down gently over him and felt him twitch underneath you. He groaned and you felt your face burn up again. This was happening.

“I’ll-I’ll help you out, don’t worry.” You said nervously. You pressed down and his hips jutted into your hand. Your chest felt fluttery as your eyes were glued down to your hand and his member twitching beneath it. You smiled a little and clenched your thighs together. Focus. You were all talk. You tried to hide your nerves as you slowly wrapped your fingers around his clothed cock. He tried to suppress a moan as he shuddered underneath you. You watched the discoloration in his underwear spread as more fluid leaked out. “Wow.”

He suddenly pulled your face closer to him and kissed you. He was desperate for contact, moaning into your mouth as he used his free hand to pull down the band of his underwear and you gasped as you felt his hot skin in your hand.

You opened your eyes to try to sneak a peek but his right hand was buried in your hair, keeping you in place to make out with him. You kept your fingers together and wrapped around him as he thrust his hips forward, sliding between your curled fingers easily. He tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth as you felt him wrap a hand around yours, guiding you to stroke him. His breath shuddered at the feeling and he pulled you closer again. You moved your free hand to steady yourself as you leaned over him.

He looked up at you and you saw fire burning in his eyes. He suddenly moved your hand away from his dick and placed his hands on your hips lifting you slightly so he could readjust himself under you. You were straddling him. He watched you carefully as he gently rocked his hips up between your legs and moved his hands up to go under your shirt. He waited patiently for your approval. You nodded and his hands slithered up your shirt to cup your breasts. You gasped as he roughly kneaded you and you started to undo the buttons on your shirt. Nanami decided you weren’t fast enough and ripped the shirt off of you. You didn’t have time to process past the sound of fabric ripping because he sat up and kissed you again.

His hands moved impatiently all over your body as he pulled you closer. He was rough, but not in an aggressive way, he was impatient. You suddenly felt his fingers work their way into the waistband of your pants and you moved your hands to stop him. He looked up at you and stopped moving. He stared silently, still breathing heavily. “Would you like me… to stop?” He asked.

You looked down at him and took a moment to assess the situation. Nanami was half naked laying under you. His shirt was now off revealing his toned chest and abdomen. You finally looked down and saw his dick. Wide and long, the bright red tip was leaning right and radiating heat. Your mouth watered. And you lightly moved your hips forward to feel it push against your core.

“Is there a problem?” He asked.

You hesitated to answer him. How embarrassing, you thought to yourself, this is probably going to hurt. Would he stop if you told him you were a virgin? Maybe it would be for the best. You could feel yourself soaking through your underwear, but would that be enough? He was big. You looked back up at him and opened your mouth to speak. You met his eyes and you blushed. His hair was tousled, skin pink and flush and of course he was breathing deeply. You noticed something on the side of his neck. A cut. It was a puncture wound, no bigger than your pinky nail, but it looked deep.

“You’re injured.” You put your hand up to it and carefully examined it. It was emoting cursed energy and everything clicked. He might have defeated the curse in the building but she had gotten a good lick in. You put your hand over it to heal him.

You weren’t good at much, but your ability to use a tiny amount of RCT had been your saving grace. Not that you were very good at it. You could really only handle superficial wounds like this one.

Suddenly his hand grabbed your wrist and pulled it away. “Later,” he said. You stared at him confused. “I want to finish you first.” His hips thrust upwards against your pants and you couldn’t help but smile. You nodded and brought your hands down to undo the button to your pants. Nanami hissed under you as you shifted your weight around trying to pull your pants down. You were able to get one leg out and began pulling them down the other when he grabbed you quickly and settled you on top of him again. He looked up at you and you watched his eyes move down to take in your body. “Are you ready?”

You looked back at him nervously. “I-you’re so big.” You were too embarrassed to tell him it was your first time. He sat up and was suddenly inches from your face.

He smiled coyly and nodded. “It’s okay, I can help you.” You felt one of his hands grip your waist and the other moved down to rub your clit. Your breath shuddered and you automatically buckled your hips against his hand. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders for support. He smiled wider, amused. His fingers moved lower and he slid them between your folds to collect your arousal. You were breathing heavily, your face buried into his chest. You felt him slip a finger inside of you, slowly, you felt him push up against you as far as he could go before there was a slight pop.

A moan escaped your lips as he pushed his finger deeper. “Fuck,” he muttered. “You’re so tight.” You felt him drag his finger out, “I’m adding another one, okay?” You nodded lost in bliss. You bit your lip as you felt his fingers stretch you out again, this time sliding in a bit easier. His hands were large and his fingers long, but you knew this was easy to take compared to the real thing. Your ability to think was damped as he sped up his thrusts and his other hand slid down to rub your clit again with his thumb. You gasped and felt yourself clench onto him. You moved your hips forward desperate to feel friction. You were panting wildly and felt yourself getting close. You moved your arm down and wrapped a hand around his cock. Roughly stroking it, to repay the favor.

“Wait-I’m close, I-I want you inside of me.” You whispered into his ear. You could feel his heartbeat quicken as his lips crashed down on yours again.

“Whatever you want.” He said. He removed his fingers and you winced at the new empty feeling. Still rubbing your clit with one hand, he moved his now free hand to stop your strokes and guided himself between your legs. He thrust slowly against your folds running his cock between your thighs and your mound and you buckled your hips against him.

You smiled happily. Even if you couldn’t take him, you’re sure you could come from just this. He suddenly stopped and pulled back, you looked down at his cock now gleaming, covered in your fluids. He lay back against the seat and put his hands on your hips. “Now it’s up to you,” he lifted your hips and positioned you so your cunt was hovering over him. “Take your time, if you don’t think you can do it, let me know.” You felt embarrassment rush through you. Did he know?

“Thank you.” You said meekly.

“I’m not trying to embarrass you,” he said softly. His hand came up and caressed your cheek. “I just don’t want to hurt you.” The kindness in his eyes made your heart flutter. You nodded with new determination. You placed a hand on his chest to balance yourself as you reached down with your other one to position him in place. You thrust your hips against his tip and pushed it into your folds, watching as his jaw clenched from the feeling. You found your opening and slowly lowered yourself to allow him inside. You winced as the tip entered you and you pushed down as far as you could go. You looked down in disappointment as you realized he wasn’t even half way in. You moved your hips back and forth just on his tip and he moved his hands onto your hips digging his fingers into you. He hissed and closed his eyes from the feeling.

“Sorry.” You apologized.

He opened his eyes and furrowed his brows. “Don’t apologize. If that’s all you can do, I’ll take it.” He slowly thrust his hips and you moaned. You wished you could take him further. You bit your lip, you could do it. You reached down to lead his cock further into you and you braced yourself as you pushed him in deeper. You whimpered as you felt him stretch you out and after a little resistance he slid right in with a plop. He pulled you closer and bucked his hips slightly as he felt you wrapped around him. Pulsing from the new feeling. You winced as he moved. He was so big. You looked up at him and his face was pure bliss. His mouth was slightly open and his eyes closed, brows furrowed. “Shit,” he muttered. “You’re so tight around me.” He looked up at you. “Is this your first-“ you cut him off with a kiss. You winced at the sensation of him inside of you but suddenly moaned as he pushed up and you felt him reach a spot deep inside of you. You gasped as he thrust and hit it again.

“There, right there, please.” You said desperately. He smiled and began thrusting his hips upwards satisfied every time he saw your face scrunch when he hit that spot. His hands moved back to your ass and he spread your cheeks out allowing himself to go just a little bit deeper. You let out a yelp as he now directly hit that spot inside of you.

“Good girl, you’re taking me so well”. He said. You smiled lazily and kissed him. He slowed his pace a bit as he moved his hand down to rub your clit again. He had seen how much you had liked it and wanted you to finish soon. The feeling of you clamping down on him was going to make him cum soon, too. You let out a heavenly moan as he started to rub you.

Your hips moved down on their own as you rode him. “Nanami! Fuck!” You whined as you bounced over him. You pulled him closer to you to make out and he began to move his hips in opposition to yours. You gasped as you felt him reach deep inside of you, and you wanted more, you felt your climax building up as you desperately pushed against him. Wanting to keep him deeper. He understood and thrust sharply and rubbed your clit harder. Loud moans of his name and ungodly noises left your lips as you felt it all become too much and you suddenly felt your whole body shake vigorously as you came. You felt tears come to your eyes.

You had never felt this good, you felt radiant, like a blinding fire took your body and left you refreshed. You shook over him a couple of times, enjoying the feeling of your cunt pulsing on him. He had stopped moving, still buried deep inside of you so you could ride out your high. Your eyes fluttered as you looked up at him and you smiled, happier than you’d ever been. He planted a kiss on your lips.

“You’re beautiful.” He said. You felt heat weld up in your stomach, he wiped your tears away softly.

You looked down at him and furrowed your brows. “You didn’t come.” You lifted your hips slightly and winced. “Keep going.” You blushed as you saw the white ring that had formed at the base of his cock. The opening of his pants was also covered in your slick.

He nodded and put a hand over your waist, quickly flipping you over and laying you down across the back seats. You were now under him and watched as he backed up, pulling his pants further down. You watched him through the V frame of your legs. Your cunt was sore and you felt like you looked a mess but when he looked back up at you, all your insecurities vanished. He took the sight of you in and you saw his dick twitch with anticipation. He came closer and while you expected him to just go in you gasped as his face went between your thighs and his lips latched onto your clit. You let out a moan. It was too much, you were still so sensitive. You grabbed his head and ran your fingers through his blonde locks. He looked up at you as he ran a stiff tongue against your folds and you shuddered. He smirked and went to town.

He threw your legs over his shoulders and devoured you. Your toes curled and you had to stop yourself from closing your thighs, afraid to crush him. You suddenly felt his fingers curl deep inside you as his tongue played with your bud and you yelled out, your climax hitting again. You held his head against you as you rode out your high; thrusting your hips forward, and rubbing your cunt over his entire face, his nose in particular hitting your clit and making you shudder. You let your head fall back and looked up at him. He smiled at you before backing up and lining himself up to your entrance. “Are you still okay?”

You nodded, exhausted but ready for more. This had to be a dream. “Whatever you want.” You repeated back to him with a smile.

“Good girl.” He pushed himself easily into you and you watched his face form a scowl as he went past your tightest part. You clenched down on him and he opened an eye and smirked at you. “Tell me if it gets to be too much.” You couldn’t even answer him before he was thrusting into you quickly, his hands on your hips holding you down and pulling you against him. He was desperate to fuck you. His hips bucked wildly against you, going in and out at a sickening pace. You could only stare at him in bliss, your mouth open and deep moans escaping everytime he moved. He grunted and pulled you closer, feeling himself coming to his limit. “You’re so good. You’re taking me so well, Princess. Fuck.” He muttered.

“Nanami-” you moaned his name as you felt another high wash over you. You yelped and shut your eyes, arching your back with a cry. You wrapped your legs around him, locking him in place as you felt him growing more desperate with each thrust. You hummed as you noticed him looking at you, once again looking like he was looking for a sign. You smiled, exhausted and nodded. That’s all he needed.

He grunted again and thrust his hips into you one last time, roughly, as he came. You felt him shooting hot ropes of cum inside of you and you brought his head down to kiss him. He smiled against your lips. You felt his cock pulsing inside of you and your eyes closed sleepily.

“Thank you, y/n.”

You nodded as you felt exhaustion come over you. “You can go again if you want.” You said barely keeping your eyes open.

“What?”

“You made me come three times just now. I think I owe you two more rounds.” He smiled and shook his head.

“Rest, I’ll clean you up.” You furrowed your brows and frowned. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes, but,” your eyes closed again. “It’s not fair. Go again, I don’t mind. I’ve been dreaming about this for so long I-“ you fell asleep.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

pt. 2 pt 3. pt 4. pt 5.

˚₊✩‧₊nana here: if you made it this far bless you. if you saw a typo...no you didn't. idk if i'll ever post pt 2...i guess it depends on how this does or if a certain someone somehow convinces me to post the next part—shout out to cath my biggest supporter<3

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odinsblog · 8 months ago

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“I had a Zionist grandmother who grew up, she grew up in Poland, she was supposed to go to Israel to study. Her father had paid for her for the first year of tuition. And then in 1939, when she was in her last year of high school, Germany and the Soviet Union invaded Poland.

She ended up for a couple of years in the Soviet-occupied part of Poland, which was how she ended up in Moscow. And by the time Germany occupied all of Poland. So then she spent the rest of her life living in Moscow.

And 45 years after the end of the war, dreaming of being able to go to Israel, but not being able to because she was now stuck in the Soviet Union. And so I think I was very infected by, infected in a non-derogatory sense, by my grandmother's dream of Israel. And I had my own dream of Israel growing up as a, as a Jewish kid who was bullied and beaten up and teased.

I just wanted to live in a country that, that was majority Jewish. I could not understand why my parents would want to go to the United States and live in another country where Jews are in the minority. My parents on the other hand just didn't want to be Jewish.

Like their only experience of being Jewish was being systematically discriminated against. They were both born during the Second World War, so they were second generation, utterly non-religious and separated from any Jewish tradition, except the tradition of being a targeted minority. So they just, they just wanted to go somewhere where they wouldn't be Jewish.

And so when I was 15, a year after we moved to the United States, I actually went to Israel planning to stay there and didn't. For a variety of reasons, but one of them was being confronted with, with what I found at the age of 15, a shockingly racist society.

So the first time I went to Israel was when I was 15, it was 1982. And then there was like an 18, 17 or 18 year gap.

And I started traveling to Israel regularly from 1999, 2000. And the first time I went back was to actually complete the research on the book about my grandmother's. So it's been a good 25 years that I've been coming back.

And I think Israel has undergone a lot of changes in that time. But no, I don't think that like the kind of Ashkenazi Sephardic racism that shocked me in 1982 has found subtler expressions. But politics of settlement have only been exacerbated.

And I still find them extremely painful to observe, especially because some of my beloved relatives are settlers.

I did visit them this last time I was in Israel, because I really wanted to see what it looked like for them.

I was compelled to go visit them because of a Facebook post that my cousin made. And just to give you an idea, I really hold these people very, very dear. But for years, I would go to Israel, Palestine and not tell them that I was there, because I kind of couldn't face them.

So it's been a number of years since I last saw them, a number of years since I went to that settlement. But my cousin had posted something on Facebook. It was a picture of her son playing the violin.

And she wrote, in one of the houses where they stayed in Gaza, there was a violin. He played for his soldiers and then put the violin back. And I found that post-heart-rending and eye-opening, the picture of him playing the violin was not from Gaza.

It was from earlier, but he had apparently told her about playing the violin in Gaza. And obviously she was worried about her son serving in Gaza and so she's posting about it. And she wants to assert that he is a good boy.

But also, entirely missing from that post and from her world view is that somebody lived in that house in Gaza. That violin belonged to somebody. Like, it was such an extraordinary example of the blindness that we were talking about a little bit earlier that I wanted to go visit them and kind of engage with that blindness more.

And I got a really good dose of blindness to the point where, and we had this incredible moment when we went walking around the settlement after Shabbat lunch. And we sort of got to this hilltop where there's a swing and there's a little free library.

And we're looking out on a Palestinian village. And I said, what are we looking at, to my cousin? And she was trying to get her bearings.

And she said, where are we looking? And she named another settlement, which was kind of, which was not on our line of sight. It was like this literal example of looking at an actual Palestinian village that she drives past every day.

And before the village was sealed off after October 7th, she used to get gas there. And she knows it exists. But somehow she, also it also doesn't enter her geography.

It is nameless.”

—Masha Gessen, the descendant of Holocaust survivors, discusses the dehumanization of Palestinians (part 2 of 3)

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sleepy-writes-stuff · 10 months ago

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DP X DC PROMPT #27

(Time for something a little more lighthearted/found family. Could probably also make this a crack prompt instead.)

(#) = Notes at the end of post

(*) = Just me building off of other ideas.

✦

Visitation Rights

When Danny went to list Dani/Ellie as his heir after she'd come back from her years of traveling the world, he was quickly informed that he already had one in line for the thrown.

"What? Since when?!"

The pretentious, floating eyeball looked like he wanted to be anywhere else other than here, providing information to King Phantom, but explained anyway.

"The day you officially achieved royal status, you permanently linked your being to the Infinite Realms. When this happened, however, a child was in the process of being created with the assistance of ectoplasmic runoff that's been leaking into the mortal world for centuries. As a result of your power being incorporated into the Realms at such a time, this human child retained an imprint of your core signature. The Infinite Realms itself has recognized this child as your offspring. Your... other offspring has yet to be recognized in such a way and would therefore be considered your second heir once claimed."

Danny stared at the Observant with wide, blank eyes that were slowly filling with dread and panic.

"Why are you just telling me this now?? My coronation was over a decade ago!" He held his face in his hands and gave a horrified groan at what he just learned.

"If you really wanted that clone as your heir, I'm afraid it's too late to change it-"

Danny's head shot back up with a snarl and furious green eyes.

"That's not what I'm upset about you walking cataracts! Eleven years! I've missed eleven years of this kid's life!! How could you think I-"

At a loss for words, he growled deep in his chest. Deep enough that it echoed throughout the halls and rattled the floors.

"Who is this kid, and where can I find them?"

Once given the information and learning of the child's other parental figures, he gets to work. A few weeks later, he appears in the home office of a well-known billionaire with a stack of papers that he promptly slams onto the desk in front of the startled man. (1)

"I demand visitation rights to our son, Damian Wayne."

✦

(1) Danny actually visited Talia first to get visitation rights. Needless to say, that didn't go very well. He's still got a couple knives floating around in his chest cavity because of it.

(*) ALSO! I'm not sure how this lines up with the DC/Batman timeline. All I figured out is that if Danny waited to be crowned until after he graduated college as an astrophysicist, which take 5 to 7 years, he'd be about 36 years old when he finds out about Damian. Bruce would be about 41, so the age gap is only 5 years. If y'all wanna make this Danny/Bruce, go ahead!

1K notes · View notes

gothcsz · 3 months ago

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Summary: Another chaotic shoot... but at least it's in Malibu?

Tags: more plot keeps sneaking into the porn, angst, frankie has entered the villa, jealous!javi, reader stands on business, it's a porn set other people are also fucking, masturbation on camera (m), dirty talk, lots of cursing (f bombs my beloved), an attempt at a blowjob, javier can't get it up, a dash of misogyny, author projects her ooc thoughts about problematic age gaps in the porn industry, no use of y/n, reader has a degree in film production, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: me nervous that part 3 isn't going to live up to the hype? more likely than you think! 🙂‍↕️ this fic is taking on a brain of its own and i'm just along for the ride, baby! for my just the tip stans— i'm sorry but i'm going to have to edge you until part 4 *crowd boos and i'm dragged off stage* i was going to wait to post this, but i really wanted to get it out because i'm so damn proud of it lowkey, lol, so i hope you all like it 🖤 let a bitch know what ya think! also, shoutout to my pookie @persephone-girl for reading over this 💋 love u mamas

Your phone’s shrill ring pierces through the haze of sleep, and you groan in frustration, burying your face deeper into the pillow.

The comforter is pulled tight over your head, shielding you from the annoyingly bright sunlight filtering through your window. Your hand shoots out, fumbling blindly across the bedside table until your fingers finally close around the receiver.

“What?” you grumble, voice thick with sleep and muffled beneath your sheets.

“There she is! My beautiful, talented camerawoman. Have I ever told you how much I appreciate what you do?” Robbie’s overly cheerful voice blares through the phone, so you pull it back from your ear slightly, wincing.

“Why are you calling me this early in the morning?” you snap, already regretting picking up.

“Early? It’s almost noon—”

“What do you want, Robbie?” You cut him off, not in the mood for small talk, especially since last night’s bar shift ran past four in the morning. You were hoping to sleep through most of the day, recovering in your bed with no interruptions. Clearly, that plan has gone out the window.

“Look, I’ve got a big shoot happening in Malibu today and I’m short-staffed. I could really use your magic touch behind the camera.”

“No.”

“C’mon,” he drags the word out, “I’ll make sure you’re well compensated for working on your day off.”

You rub your eyes, the remnants of sleep still clinging to you. “How much?”

He tosses out a number, and despite your best effort to remain indifferent, your eyes widen. Damn. That’s more than decent money.

“Malibu’s all the way across town,” you point out, “I won’t make it there in time if I take the bus. And a taxi? That’ll cost me a fortune.”

“Don’t worry about that. Your ride’s outside waiting for you.”

You blink, confused, and get out of bed, dragging the corded phone with you as you move toward the bay window. You pull the curtain back just enough to peer down at the busy street below.

Sure enough, Steve is there, leaning casually against his Jeep with sunglasses on, a cigarette between his lips. The second he spots you looking down, he grins like the cheshire cat and waves.

“Seriously?” you mutter to Robbie, flipping Steve off with a half-hearted smile. “And what if I’d said no?”

“We both know you wouldn’t have.”

After a few more quick exchanges, you hang up, glancing once more at your ride through the window before turning to rush and get yourself ready for the day ahead.

Truth be told, you’re still not fully awake, your body moving on autopilot as you shuffle through your morning (midday) routine.

It’s been ages since you’ve been to the beach— especially one as nice as Malibu’s. The thought of it softens the blow of losing your rest day. You tell yourself you’ll make the best of it, turning this unexpected workday into something that benefits you, too.

After shooting wraps, you’ll indulge in a quiet evening by the shore, sinking your toes into the warm sand with a good book in hand. No rush to head back. This time, you’ll gladly take a taxi if it means getting some peace seaside.

With that plan in mind, you dress for the day accordingly. Your halter-style bathing suit doubles as a cute top, the color complimenting your skin, while your favorite denim shorts sit comfortably over your bikini bottoms.

You pack a few essentials into your beach bag and make sure to grab your camera bag as well. Once you’ve double-checked that everything’s packed, you make your way downstairs, feeling a bit more awake now.

Steve catches sight of you approaching and flashes a dramatic grin, straightening up like he’s about to chauffeur royalty.

“Your chariot awaits,” he announces with an exaggerated flourish, swinging the passenger door open.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the bemused laugh that escapes your lips. “God, you’re ridiculous,” you mutter, shaking your head as you climb into the seat, tossing your beach bag onto the floor.

He shuts the door behind you with a smirk. “Ridiculous? I prefer charmingly dedicated to my craft.” He hops into the driver’s side, flicking the cigarette away before starting the car.

You snort at his self-satisfaction, leaning back against the seat and putting on the seatbelt.

“Malibu, huh? How the fuck did he manage to swing that?”

He chuckles, one hand lazily draped over the wheel, the other tapping out a rhythm on his knee. “He didn’t tell me much either— just asked me to stop by and pick you up on my way.”

That makes sense. Robbie’s always been a bit scatterbrained, occasionally running around like he’s managing a multi-million-dollar empire when, in reality, he’s holding it together with duct tape and half-assed enthusiasm.

The drive is surprisingly fun, Steve’s constant jokes keeping your spirits high. He always manages to make you laugh, which is why you tolerate his quirks.

“I’m pretty sure Javi’s going to be there,” he says, almost too nonchalantly, meaning he’s in the mood to be messy.

You keep your gaze focused on the coastline, watching as palm trees blur past. The wind from the open windows has you squinting momentarily, but it can’t cool the sudden heat spreading through your body.

“It’s not going to be weird seeing him, right?” He presses and you finally turn to face him, moving your sunglasses to the top of your head.

“Why would it be weird?” you ask, the challenge clear in your voice.

He shoots you a look, brows raised and lips quirked in that irritating way of his. “Oh, I dunno. Maybe ‘cause of the whole flirtin’ with you during the middle of a scene thing? Or, y’know, the elevator incident… which, by the way, what the fuck even happened there?” He glances at you, curiosity practically oozing out of him.

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, but you can’t stop the way your thighs rub together at the memory.

Javier’s mouth... God. “None of your damn business.”

“Don’t tell me you fucked him.”

You laugh, loudly, the sound bordering on forced. “Absolutely not.”

He shoots you that okay, sure look, and you groan internally.

Steve’s like a dog with a bone when he gets curious, and you know he’s not going to let this go until you give him something. You sigh, deciding to indulge him— partially.

“He was being an asshole,” you start, and he immediately interjects with, “Nothing new there,” causing both of you to share a laugh at Javier’s expense.

You shake your head, returning your sunglasses to the bridge of your nose. “No, seriously. He was pushing my buttons, being his usual peacock self. I don’t even know how it escalated, but one moment we’re arguing, and the next... he’s got his tongue in my pussy.”

Steve chokes on his own spit at your bluntness. He’s heard and seen much worse on set, yet your confession has him all tripped up.

“So, you did fuck him?”

You roll your eyes again, shifting in your seat as the horny flashbacks hit you all at once— Javier’s lips wrapped around your clit, the perfect rhythm of his tongue, his fingers.

You shove those thoughts away, focusing on the road ahead, annoyed at both Javier and Steve now. “Getting head isn’t fucking. It’s, like, third base. And anyway, I made it clear— that’s all he was getting from me. I’m not about to waste my time rolling around in bed with him.”

He gives you a look— a knowing look— and you scoff, shaking your head. “What now?”

“Nothing. You’re just the first person I’ve heard say that about him.”

“Someone’s gotta humble his ass,” you mutter, though the words feel heavier than they should. You try to act like you’ve put Javier out of your mind, like that moment was nothing but a blip in your life, but deep down, you know it’s not that simple.

You’ve never met anyone like him, and the fact that he can elicit such reactions from you pisses you off so bad.

As the coastline stretches out in front of you, Malibu drawing closer with every mile, you can’t help but wonder if seeing Javier today will be as easy as you’re pretending it will be.

The mansion is far more extravagant than anything you could have imagined. Its grand facade, with towering columns and ivy crawling up the sides, feels like something out of a movie set, and for a second, you almost forget why you’re here.

But then, as soon as you step past the threshold, you hear it— echoing from deep within the house are the unmistakable sounds of exaggerated moans, grunts, and the rhythmic thump of bodies meeting.

You adjust the strap of your camera bag on your shoulder, your beach bag abandoned in Steve’s car. As you step further into the foyer, Robbie appears, that infamous smirk plastered on his face.

“Long way from home, aren’t you, Dorothy?” he jokes, taking in your wide-eyed amusement as you scan the expensive decor— the towering glass chandelier overhead, the marble floors gleaming beneath your feet, the floor-to-ceiling windows.

You can’t help but be a little impressed.

But of course, he’s there to give you shit about it. You turn your wide-eyed gaze into a glare, bringing your attention to him. “So funny. You should quit your current sleazy day job and take up another sleazy one— stand up,” you reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

He just grins, unbothered by your sharp tone. “You’re always a joy to work with. No wonder Javi asked for you specifically.”

Your entire demeanor shifts viscerally and you curse yourself for it mentally, caught completely off guard. “Wait, what? Javier asked for me?”

He shrugs, indifferent to your confusion. “Yeah. He’s set for a solo shoot upstairs in one of the bathrooms before he’s on with...” He snaps his fingers, trying to remember. “...Mariella. Real pretty girl, it’s her first on-camera gig today.”

The world blurs a little as your mind zeroes in on that one bit of information: Javier asked for you. And not just for any shoot— a solo one. You blink, shaking your head to clear the fog. “I’m sorry, can we go back to the part where I was summoned here by someone who isn’t my boss?”

“Oh yeah, he made a real fuss about it. Sent away the other guy we had lined up for the shoot. Told me he wouldn’t do it unless you were behind the camera. Even offered to pay out of his own pocket just to get you here. It’s the only reason we’re paying you as much as I promised over the phone.”

Your stomach twists and you can feel your face settling into a deep frown, the kind that pulls some of your mood down with it. So that’s why he dangled such a big paycheck in front of you this morning.

After the elevator incident (as Steve has so eloquently named it), after the intense heat of his mouth on you, the way he had you— he said he’d leave you alone. He was supposed to respect the boundaries you set, but here he is, yanking you back into his orbit.

You can already picture him upstairs, lounging in one of those stupidly lavish bathrooms, probably smirking that damn smirk of his, waiting for you.

You try to squash down the way your pulse quickens at the thought, the lingering memory of his fingers digging into your hips, his tongue working between your thighs, is beckoning you into temptation again.

“Fucking great,” you mutter, more to yourself than your boss. You have half a mind to storm up those stairs, find the pornstar, and give him a piece of your mind before marching right back out to spend your day on the beach— free of drama and distractions and him.

But the reality is, you’re being paid nearly three times what you’d normally make on a gig like this. It’s enough to drown out the temptation to walk away, however satisfying that would be.

You’re an adult. You’ve dealt with worse. You can handle this.

Robbie gives you a sidelong glance, clearly sensing your hesitation. “You’re not backing out, are you?”

With a sigh, you force a smile and shake your head. “As good as it’d feel to leave, no, I’m not. I’ll be up in a sec.”

Relief flashes across his face, and he gives you a few pointers before rushing off into this maze of a house.

You linger for a second longer, taking a deep breath to shake off the nerves. Come on. Get it together. After a final mental pep talk, you head toward the grand staircase that winds up to the second floor.

The sight that greets you at the top of the stairs stops you in your tracks: Lexxie is splayed out on her back atop some console table, currently getting the life fucked out of her. The visual is chaotic but nothing new. You’ve seen it a hundred times before.

A guy with a scruffy beard and a beat-up baseball cap stands behind the camera, looking more bored than impressed, barely watching as the two stars go at it.

You lean against the nearby railing, your voice cutting through their heavy breaths and grunts. “Guess your marriage to Javier didn’t last very long,” you tease from off camera, referencing the honeymoon shoot.

The star’s eyes snap open at the sound of your voice, and she flashes you a playful, almost sweet smile in between heavy breaths. “Kinda regretting stepping out on him—oh, fuck.” Her snappy comeback dissolves into a breathy moan as the guy currently rearranging her on the table pushes her legs up to her chest, hitting just the right spot.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to ruin your shot,” you say, throwing a glance at the cameraman, knowing how annoying it can be when someone messes with your focus.

He waves it off with a lazy shrug. “It’s not ruined. Honestly, I would’ve quit filming ten minutes ago. It’s starting to drag. I’m impressed they’re still going.”

You let out a small laugh, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, they’ve got stamina like you wouldn’t believe. Makes me feel lazy in bed sometimes, but then I remember how unrealistic this shit actually is.”

He chuckles, scratching at his jaw. “Should make it an Olympic sport. Bet we’d bring home gold.”

“Pretty sure that already exists and it happens in the Olympic Village.” You smirk, finally peeling your eyes away from the couple to look at him properly.

He’s cute in that disheveled, stray-dog kind of way. His curls poke out from under a worn baseball cap, his beard patchy, and his clothes rumpled, like he just rolled out of bed and threw on the first thing he could find. He fits in perfectly with the kind of guys you’d expect on a porn crew.

Earning a genuine laugh from him, he extends a hand. “I’m Frankie.”

You shake it, offering your name in return. “I’m also part of the crew. About to go shoot a scene in the master bathroom.” You explain, noticing how his grip lingers just a little, his smile playful and easy. You feel a bit of warmth rush to your cheeks, and he’s about to say something when—

“Oh fuck, I’m about to cum!” Lexxie’s voice is piercing, loud and breathless, pulling your attention back to the scene.

You shake your head, stifling a laugh. “Well, that’s my cue,” you mutter, stepping out before you get too caught up flirting with him.

“Nice meeting you,” he says before dismounting the camera, moving in closer to capture the so-called money shot.

Cute. Too cute. It’s almost enough to make you forget about the man you’re about to see.

You push open the door to the room Javier’s in, and the sight of him has you doing a double take.

He’s standing in the middle of the room with nothing but a white towel hanging dangerously low on his hips, his defined Adonis belt drawing your eyes in a way you hate to admit.

His toned, brown torso glistens with the thinnest layer of sweat, the sunlight pouring into the room making him look like he’s glowing.

You need to toughen up, and in order to do so, you have to bitch at him. It’s the only way to keep that lustful cavewoman instinct away.

“You’re a piece of work,” is what you settle on, making sure to let your tone really punctuate how annoyed you are by the stunt he pulled today.

The second his eyes lock onto yours, amusement flickers behind them, as if he’s been waiting for this confrontation.

He quirks a brow, lips curving into a lazy smile. “¿De que hablas nena—?”

“What happened to ‘if you don’t want me anymore, I’ll leave you alone’? Was that something you said just to lower my guard? To get me to give you what you want?” You cut him off, keeping your distance even as you notice him inching closer.

Your eyes are daggers as they bore into him, and for a brief second, you hope he feels at least some of the fire burning in your chest. But if he’s affected, he doesn’t show it. He is frustratingly calm, like he’s above it all.

“You gave me no indication that you didn’t want me anymore.” His voice is casual, almost patronizing.

You groan as you throw your hands up in exasperation. “I literally said, ‘Hope you got your fix because it’s never happening again.’ What the fuck else do I have to say or do to get you off my back?”

Silence settles between you two as you stand there staring each other down. He’s unreadable, watching you with an intensity that makes your skin tingle.

“Well?” you demand, impatient.

“In my defense— it didn’t sound very convincing.” You stare at him incredulously before turning on your heel. Hell no. He can keep his money and his bullshit. You’re not doing this.

But just as your fingers graze the doorknob, his voice sharpens with a hint of panic, calling your name.

“Wait, look,” he starts, running a hand through his hair, “I’m not trying to start anything. I just thought—” he pauses, searching for the right words. “I’d feel more comfortable if you were behind the camera during this shoot. Not the other guy Robbie brought in.”

Frankie? He seems so harmless, and besides, Javier’s never had an issue with whoever’s in the room when he’s filming, so why is it a problem now?

However, his tone does sound sincere. You turn to face him again, narrowing your eyes and refusing to let your guard down. “This better not be another one of your tricks, Javier. If you’re doing this to try and get into my pants—”

He almost grins, but catches himself just in time, clearly biting back a remark. You can see it in the way his mouth twitches, and you know exactly what he’s thinking. Already have, his brown eyes seem to say. But he holds his tongue, offering a faint nod instead.

“I promise. No tricks. Just a professional shoot. That’s it.”

You give him one last warning glance before sighing. “Fine. But I’m telling you, Javier—”

“I know, I know,” he interrupts, holding up his hands. “I get it and please stop calling me Javier.”

You arch a brow. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but everyone calls me Javi.”

Ugh, whatever. “Okay, fine, Javi. Just show me where I’m supposed to set up.”

He bites back another grin and motions you with a flick of his head, and with the weird tension simmering, you follow him toward the ensuite bathroom. The door creaks open, revealing an elaborate setup, and you pause in the doorway, eyes widening.

It’s surprisingly... beautiful.

In front of a massive window that overlooks the sprawling blue ocean outside, there’s a porcelain clawfoot bathtub filled with what looks like a milk bath. Various colored flower petals float delicately on the surface, scattered in an almost artful arrangement.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Well, damn. This actually looks nice.” This bathroom is bigger than your entire apartment.

Javier notices your reaction and leans against the doorframe to the connecting walk in closet, arms crossed over his bare chest, a smirk playing on his lips. “Catering to the female gaze,” he says with a cocky shrug, “At least, that’s what my agent told me. Seems like I’m very popular among the ladies.”

The way he says it makes you want to smack him upside the head. He’s pushing your buttons again in the most subtle way, and you hate how good he is at it.

“Cute,” you reply dryly, walking past him to set your camera bag down on the large counter.

As you begin to unpack and set up, you can feel his eyes on you, watching your every move, lingering on the exposed skin of your back then dripping down to your legs.

It kind of feels good to have him ogling you like this. The whole look but don’t touch thing is really doing it for you, more than you’d care to admit. There’s a certain power in keeping him wanting, yet also forcing the distance.

“It’s not just about the ladies, you know. I actually want this to be good. I trust you to make it look that way.”

You glance over at him. His playful arrogance has slightly faded, shaded in by the genuine want to make this feel more than just some raunchy scene.

“I’m not a director, I just film it,” you remind him, adjusting the camera lens as you try to play it off. “So just do whatever you think is right. Robbie gave me some pointers, but it wasn’t much.”

“Still,” he presses, “there’s some finesse to what you do.”

At least he’s aware of that. “Let’s just get this over with,” you say, deflecting the compliment.

You finish setting up the camera, adjusting the tripod to get the perfect angle. It’s important to capture the full picturesque scene to begin with— the soft light spilling in through the window, the sparkling blue ocean in the background.

You clear your throat, “Okay, I’m all set for whenever you’re ready.”

Javier moves casually as he unwraps the white towel from around his waist. His cock, already half-hard, demands your attention, but you force yourself to look away. You rub your lips together then lick at them unconsciously, trying to focus on anything other than his naked body.

“Got plans after this?” he asks as though he’s asking you about the weather.

You blink at the normalcy of the question “Just going to hang out by the beach,” you reply plainly, trying to keep your focus on the camera and not on his crotch.

It almost feels strange talking to him like this, without the usual teasing or sexual tension-laden bickering.

“Sounds fun,” he says as he steps into the tub, the water sloshing around him. “Real nice out here. The weather is perfect for it today.”

You watch as he settles in, the milky water rising around his body, and for a moment, you’re completely mesmerized.

The scene in front of you looks like something out of a romantic painting, and it hits you how undeniably beautiful he looks. His skin, a warm golden brown, contrasts perfectly with the creamy white of the bath, and the colorful flower petals floating on the surface make the whole thing look like a dream.

He leans back, the water just kissing his chest, and you catch yourself imagining what a soft, hazy vignette filter would do to the shot, how it would add an enchanting glow to an already intimate scene.

You shake your head slightly, snapping yourself out of the reverie. You’re supposed to be filming him jerking off, not admiring the aesthetics like this is some fine art shoot. But fuck, it’s hard to separate the two when the visuals are this damn good.

Javier, of course, senses your brief distraction. He watches you, eyes thoughtful as he stretches out, letting the water ripple around him. He doesn’t say anything, but there’s a slight smirk playing on his lips, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the task at hand, despite the heat pooling between your thighs. “Is there a clear direction for this scene, or are you just improvising?”

“I’m just winging it,” his voice is a rich, velvet drawl, a little rough from all the smoking he does. “No dirty talk. They want my natural noises to be the main focus… amongst other things.” He cocks his head to the side, one arm coming up to rub at the back of his neck.

Heat blooms low in your belly, shooting straight to your cunt at the sight. The way his bicep flexes, the muscles shifting smoothly beneath that taut, sun-kissed skin, showcasing just how defined he is while still looking so maddeningly soft.

Calm down, girl, you silently reprimand your pussy. She’s fucking purring right now.

You clear your throat and give him a nod, signaling him to begin. Stepping behind the camera, you focus through the lens, grateful for the distance.

Javier moves slowly. His head tips back against the edge of the tub, eyes falling closed, the soft curve of his lashes fanning out like shadows against his skin. One hand trails down, lingering at the hollow of his collarbones. The movements are unhurried, almost reverent, as though he’s savoring the feel of his own skin.

The intimate build-up draws you in, despite your best efforts to remain detached.

You unmount the camera from its tripod after a few moments, stepping closer to him, framing the shot tight around his chest, the slow glide of his hand along his torso. You can’t help but notice the pounding of your heart, each beat mirroring the steady, throbbing pulse at your clit.

The sight of him— relaxed, fully in his element, bathed in the soft glow of light— stirs that fucking feeling deep within you.

It’s not just desire, though that’s certainly there. It’s the maddening awareness of how sensual, how magnetic this man is. And even though you try to tell yourself you’d feel the same about any other attractive man in his place, you know that’d be a damn lie.

Javier’s hand moves lower, ghosting over the ridges of his soft stomach. His other hand trails slowly through the water, sending gentle ripples through the milky bath. You swallow hard and focus the lens on his face— the slight parting of his pouty pink lips beneath his trimmed mustache that you just now realize has a small patch right above his cupid’s bow.

Even his imperfections are attractive.

The flushed skin of his cock makes an appearance, his thick, swollen head breaking the surface of the water with each subtle movement, teasing you and the camera. The way it peeks through, the slick tip glistening in the milky bath, almost feels like a taunt— winking at you.

Doing as you’re supposed to, you adjust the lens to zoom in on the way his cock flirts with the surface.

If you were anyone else, one of his usual co-stars maybe, you’d lean down and give it a few kitten licks. You’d tease the sensitive crown with your tongue, circling the tip before letting it slide past your lips— just enough to drive him wild.

Your tongue twitches at the thought.

A soft groan escapes his lips as he gets closer to where he’s aching to touch. It’s as if he can read your mind, as if he knows you’re imagining the feel of his cock in your mouth, the taste of his salty skin, the way he’d twitch against your tongue as you tease him until he begs for more.

Maybe he’s picturing your lips wrapped around him, too.

You bite down on your lower lip, forcing yourself to stay quiet, to stay focused, even though your body is betraying you. The mess in your panties, the way your nipples stiffen beneath your bathing suit top— everything about this moment is dangerous.

Then finally, his fist wraps around his cock, a soft slosh of water accompanying the motion. The eroticism of the scene— paired with the proximity, the memory of those hands on you— ignites that annoying need deep inside.

He strokes himself slowly, eyes still closed as though lost in the pleasure of it all. You focus the camera on his hand, on the way it moves with purpose, his thumb brushing over the head of his cock, slick with precum.

His groans start to fill the air, and your own body reacts, hips shifting slightly as you try to ignore pressure at your cunt.

“Still with me?” His voice cuts through the silence, raspy and knowing, eyes fluttering open to look at you.

Oh. Have they always been this golden?

“Yeah,” you’re proud of yourself for keeping your voice steady.

Javier’s body is pure, unfiltered sin in motion. As you move around the bathtub to capture every angle, you can’t help but admire him. His muscles shift with every slow pump of his hand, the sinewy lines of his arms and torso rippling just beneath the milky water.

His stomach contracts with each exhale, drawing your gaze lower to the faint trail of hair leading down to his cock, which you catch glimpses of when his hips buck up inadvertently.

His breathing grows heavier, his pouty bottom lip caught between his teeth, brows furrowing in concentration as his pleasure builds. It’s mesmerizing, the way his face contorts, his expressions almost too intimate, too personal for the lens. But you can’t tear your eyes— or the camera— away.

His fist moves with such confidence, touching himself with an unhurried rhythm that only a man used to his own pleasure can manage. Every time his thumb glides over the tip of his cock, a heavier grunt rumbles in his throat and it’s so hot.

You’re too focused on capturing every inch of him that it almost catches you off guard when he begins to speak.

“Wish it was your pretty hand around me right now, baby.” His voice is husky, laced with want, and the words hit you like a punch to the gut.

You blink rapidly, heart stalling in your chest as the camera wavers slightly in your hands. “Javier,” you sigh, his name slipping from your lips before you can stop yourself.

“Fuck, I know, but shit—” His words are more ragged now, spoken between heavy breaths. “You’re all I can think about still. You stay in my mind, muñeca. Can’t get you out.”

Even though every rational part of you knows you should stop him, should leave or at least say something to shut him up, you don’t.

You don’t run, you don’t protest. You just... let it happen.

“Talk to me, please.”

“I-I—” The words get stuck in your throat, “I can’t. I’ll ruin the shoot.” Why is that your priority right now?

“You won’t.”

The way he says it chips at the walls you've built around yourself.

“What do I even say?”

“Anything,” there he goes again, using that tone that makes him sound like he’s begging.

So, you say what you’ve been thinking of since he got into this damn tub. “Your cock is so pretty, Javi.” You purr, throwing all caution to the wind, lying to yourself that this means nothing.

The effect is immediate. He groans, a deep sound from his chest, and his hand moves faster over his shaft, the slickness of the water amplifying the movement. “Fuck,” he says, his breathing now erratic, “say it again.”

Your gaze flicks down and it’s mesmerizing watching the way his body responds to his own touch, but it’s the fact that he’s unraveling in front of you that leaves your mouth dry.

“Such a pretty cock, Javi,” you repeat, voice steadier this time, growing bolder with each passing second. Every flex and contraction of his body feeds the arousal pulsing in you. “I bet it would feel perfect sliding down my throat, hitting the back of it until I’m choking on you.”

All those hours spent listening to cheesy porn dialogue are finally paying off.

His head falls back, exposing the strong column of his neck, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. A guttural groan escapes him as the image of what you just said sets in. His other hand moves down to cup his heavy, swollen balls, the water around him rocking more violently now as he starts to lose himself in the fantasy.

“Shit… I’m close,” he growls, voice breaking with need, the words barely coherent. “Keep talking to me, fuck…”

You lean in slightly, the camera momentarily forgotten. “You want to come for me?” Your whisper is dripping with lust, the idea of him falling apart because of you making your pussy ache. “You want to make a mess? Pretend I’m kneeling right here, my mouth open and waiting for you to fill it, warm and wet just for you?”

You’ve seen him come so many times, watched him fill too many cunts with his spend and paint different parts of their pretty bodies— but none of it compares to the sight before you.

The way his body jerks in response tells you everything you need to know. His grip tightens on the edge of the tub, knuckles going white as he pumps faster, rougher, pushing himself toward the brink. His hips start lifting out of the water with every thrust into his own hand, chasing that final release.

“Fuck, yes…,” he groans, voice strangled, barely holding it together. His eyes squeeze shut, every muscle in his body tensing, going rigid as he falls over the edge.

His bilingual expletives cut off into a long, drawn-out moan as his cock twitches, thick ropes of cum spilling out in messy spurts, splattering against his fist, swirling into the milky bathwater. The petals float lazily across the surface, some clinging to his skin, as the evidence of his release drifts around him.

You stand there, heart pounding, frozen as your brain tries to catch up with your pussy.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, fumbling with the camera as you stop the recording. You quickly move to pack everything up and try your damndest not to look at him.

“Wait, don’t—” Javier’s voice is still hoarse, but there’s a touch of urgency to it now, breaking through the post-orgasm haze. You hear the water sloshing violently behind you as he moves, and you know he’s getting out of the tub. “Just… hang on.”

“No. I-I gotta go,” you stammer, your hands frantically packing up the camera, the lens cap slipping through your fingers. You try to grab it, but your nerves are shot and it fumbles. Thankfully, it doesn’t take damage. You’d hate to hear Robbie bitch at you for breaking the brand-new camera.

Just get out of here is the only thought running through your mind. Every time you’re around him lately, you end up a confused, horny, exasperated mess, and you can’t handle it anymore.

“Hey—wait!” Javier slips as he tries to step out of the tub, nearly falling as he reaches for you, his wet feet squeaking against the floor. You turn just in time to see him catch himself, water dripping from his body, his skin still flushed from what just happened.

“What the hell?” You shoot him a look, “You’re gonna break your neck trying to stop me from leaving—”

“I wasn’t—fuck, just let me talk for a second.” He runs a hand through his soaked hair, water dripping down his neck, over the curve of his shoulders, and you hate how even now, you’re distracted by how good he looks. He reaches for the towel and loosely wraps it around his waist. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Neither did I,” you snap, stuffing your gear into your bag, not caring how haphazardly it’s packed. “This— this isn’t what I signed up for. I’m here to work, remember? Not… whatever the fuck that was.”

He steps closer, reaching for your arm, but you yank it away before he can touch you. The last thing you need is his hands on you right now, reminding you of everything you shouldn’t want.

“You think I don’t know that?” His voice softens, but there’s a frustration beneath it, like he’s grappling with the same confusion you are. “I wasn’t trying to mess with you, okay? I just… I don’t know what the hell is happening between us either.”

You stop, finally meeting his gaze. There’s something in his eyes that pulls at the part of you that’s freakishly tethered to him, but you can’t let that get to you now. Not when everything feels so damn complicated.

“Javier, this—” You struggle for words, shaking your head. “This can’t keep happening. I can’t—” You pause, your breath catching. I can’t have you. “I don’t want you,” you correct yourself.

His jaw clenches, muscles ticking under the strain. “Stop bullshitting me,” he growls, eyes narrowing.

“I’m not,” you shoot back, but it comes out too quickly, too rehearsed.

“You’re lying through your fuckin’ teeth, and it’s pathetic. What is so wrong with giving me a chance?” He keeps circling back to this— chances.

One thing about him, he knows how to trigger a fucking migraine.

“Everything!” The word bursts out of you like a confession. “Everything about this is wrong. It’s why I’ve been trying to stay away since day one, but you’re so— ugh!” You throw your hands up, exasperated, the bathroom suddenly feeling too small and claustrophobic. He’s got you spinning in circles, tying you up in knots, and you can’t think straight around him.

Without a second thought, you turn to leave, your feet moving as if you’re fucking levitating. So what if you’ve made a habit of running away from him? You don’t owe him shit.

“Nena—” Desperation laces his voice and that stupid nickname makes your skin curl. “I don’t want you to leave like this.”

“Well, too bad,” you snap over your shoulder. “I’m leaving so you can’t sweet-talk me into anything.” The slam of the door echoes behind you, a final punctuation to your statement.

As you step out into the hallway, the distant sounds of people fucking filter through the air, kind of grounding you back to the real world.

You can’t keep working with him, not if every interaction is going to end like this. You make a mental note to talk to Robbie after today’s shoot. No more Peña.

The day drags on, the tension from earlier still lingering, but now, sitting outside on the shaded patio, you feel a small reprieve.

A half-eaten sandwich rests before you on the table, your eyes lazily tracing the lines of the zero-edge pool that blends into the horizon. The soft rustle of palm trees swaying in the gentle breeze lulls you into a sense of temporary peace. You glance around, taking in the pristine luxury surrounding you. Rich people really have it made, you think, marveling at the extravagance of someone else’s life.

The spat with Javier lingers but you’ve done your best to ignore it by keeping busy. The other shoots happening in the house have kept you distracted, but you know what’s coming: the last scene of the day— with him— and the new girl, Mariella. A small sigh escapes your lips as you sink deeper into the patio chair, absolutely dreading it.

Your tranquility is shattered when you feel a presence nearby. Already anticipating another confrontation with Javier, you steel yourself and don’t even bother looking up before snapping, “Oh my god, can you just leave me alone—”

The words get jammed in your throat as your eyes land on Frankie, not Javier. He stands there, looking taken aback, a paper bag in one hand and an awkward smile tugging at his lips. You instantly feel like a bitch.

“Shit— sorry,” you stammer, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I thought you were someone else.”

Frankie lets out a small chuckle, brown eyes softening as he rubs the back of his neck. “No worries, I can leave if you want—”

“No, no,” you say quickly, waving him off. “Please, stay. I didn’t mean to be snappy.”

He hesitates for a moment before motioning to the empty chair across from you. “Mind if I sit?”

You shake your head, and he lowers himself into the seat, setting his lunch down. The small talk starts easily, flowing naturally as you both munch on your food. He tells you about his daughter, a proud smile on his face as he recounts how she’s the light of his life. Then he goes on about how his friends call him Catfish because of some dumb inside joke, and also the fact that he’s a retired pilot. It somehow doesn’t surprise you— the career fits him.

“How do you go from flying helicopters to shooting porn?” you ask, the question half serious, half teasing as you lean back in your chair, eyes hidden behind your sunglasses.

Frankie raises an eyebrow and smirks, clearly amused. “Shit happens,” he says with a shrug. “How do you go from having a film production degree to spending your days staring at tits and ass?”

A wry smile tugs at your lips. You tilt your head, pausing for effect. “... Shit happens,” you echo, the irony not lost on either of you.

He snorts, taking a slow sip of his water, the sound of his laughter rolling into the lazy afternoon air. You can’t help but steal a glance from behind your shades, your gaze wandering over his rugged features.

There’s something about the way the sun hits him just right, casting a golden glow over his tanned skin. You swallow, feeling a subtle pull in your chest, an unexpected attraction. He’s not flashy, not like the other guys you’re used to working with— there’s an unspoken confidence in his ease, a solidness that makes you want to keep looking.

“So… who’d you think I was? Just then?” He asks, adjusting his cap.

You try not to let your small smile falter. “Oh, just an annoying coworker.”

“Ah, the kind who shows up at the worst times, huh?”

“Exactly,” you reply with a laugh, “You know the type.”

Frankie leans in just slightly, lowering his voice. “Well, I’m glad I’m not that guy.” There’s a flicker of flirtation in his tone, his eyes lingering a beat too long. “But if you ever need someone to… keep him under control, you just let me know. Got the remedy for that right here.”

He exaggeratedly flexes his biceps, and the snug t-shirt he’s wearing pulls taut around his arms, highlighting their impressive size.

You can’t help but admire the view— he’s really fun to look at, all charming smiles and playful confidence.

“I might just take you up on that, actually,” you reply, matching his energy with a teasing smile of your own. “I could definitely use someone who knows how to handle things.”

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his pink lips. “I’m more than equipped for that, trust me.”

For a second, it feels like the two of you are in your own little world— until, of course, it comes crashing down.

A voice cuts through the moment like a knife. “We’re ready for the last scene.”

You turn to see Javier standing there, arms crossed, jaw tight, his gaze flicking between you and Frankie. His entire posture screams annoyance.

“And who are you?” Frankie retorts, squinting one eye against the harsh sunlight, playful defiance dancing in his tone.

Javier doesn’t seem to like that response at all. “I’m ready to get this shit done with,” he snaps, and you narrow your eyes, practically shooting daggers at him.

Frankie clears his throat, sizing up Javier’s bristling energy. “Right.”

You catch the word presumido slip from his lips— the Spanish insult that has you exhaling a light laugh through your nose, because he’s so spot on and he doesn’t even know it.

Both of you stand, Frankie gathering the remnants of your lunch. “If you’d like some company down by the beach later, I’ll still be around,” he adds smoothly, sliding the proposition in there as casually as if he were just suggesting grabbing coffee. You almost don’t mind him crashing your solo date.

“I’ll let you know,” you reply, pushing your chair in. “It would be great to not have to take the taxi back, but I was willing to do it for a nice afternoon by the water.” You can feel Javier’s possessive stare burning into you from across the way.

Frankie, absolutely unbothered, leans in closer, a charming grin on his face. “Here’s my number if you need that ride.” A pen appears out of nowhere, and he scribbles down his digits on a clean corner of his napkin, tearing it off with an effortless confidence before handing it to you.

“Definitely,” you say with a flirty smile, tucking the napkin into your pocket, feeling a thrill against the scowling presence of the spectator watching from the sliding glass door

Frankie branches off to use the restroom and you push past Javier, no intention of speaking to him until—

“If you spent less time flirting with the crew and more time focusing on your job, we’d be finished by now.”

You can practically taste his jealousy.

You stop in your tracks, turning to face him, your patience running thin. “Really, Javi? You’re jealous of Frankie? That’s what this is about? Did our last conversation not put shit in perspective for you?”

He steps closer, eyes hard, voice low. “Jealous? Of him?” He scoffs, but the tension in his jaw betrays him. “I just don’t appreciate having to wait because you’re too busy cozying up to someone else. Especially someone who looks like they just got picked up off the side of the road.”

“And you wonder why I don’t like you.” Is all you can say, brushing past him yet again, his presence looming heavy as you head toward the living room where the last scene is set to be shot.

The moment Robbie goes on with his usual pre-shoot rundown, your attention shifts to the newbie Mariella immediately, drowning out his usual spiel.

The girl— and she is a girl, no matter what the paperwork says— looks painfully young. Her cropped tee hugging her braless chest, barely keeping her breasts from spilling out, and those flimsy pajama shorts riding high on her thighs. It’s the kind of outfit that makes you uneasy— one you’ve seen too many times in this industry, designed to play into the fantasies of men who want their women to look barely legal.

You bite the inside of your cheek, the sour taste of frustration building in the back of your throat. This is the part of the job that gnaws at you— the undercurrent of exploitation that no one acknowledges.

You’re not naive, you know exactly what sells in porn. You know what these people want to watch, what they get off on. The younger, the better.

Still, it doesn’t make it any easier to stomach when you’re standing on set, watching it play out in real time.

Just as Mariella positions herself, preparing for the camera to roll, you can’t stop yourself. The words come out before you can think to censor them. “How old are you?”

Suddenly, everyone’s attention shifts to you. Robbie. Steve. Frankie. Even Javier, who’s lounging in the corner, waiting for his moment to shine. They all freeze, the casual banter dying off as your question lingers in the air. Mariella blinks, looking around as if unsure who you’re even talking to.

“I—I turned twenty last week.”

Your expression hardens, and the disapproval is written all over your face. “She’s not even old enough to drink, and you’re having her fuck Javier?” Your eyes cut to Robbie, who’s staring at you like you’ve just sprouted another head.

The silence stretches for a beat too long before he scoffs, shaking his head like you’re being ridiculous. “I don’t pay you to hear your opinions on shit,” he snaps, clearly irritated. “Just sit there and record the damn thing.”

Your eyes roll hard enough that it almost hurts. “You’re all a bunch of perverts.”

Poor Frankie catches a stray with that one. It’s like everything is grating on you in ways it usually doesn’t. Normally, you can shove it down and keep your head low because, at the end of the day, you’re just here for the paycheck.

“Perverts pay your bills, sweetheart,” Robbie throws back, all nonchalant. What’s worse is that he’s right.

Moments like this make you wonder how long you can keep doing this without losing a part of yourself in the process.

You look around at the other three men, none of them stepping up to say anything in your defense. Useless.

You shouldn’t be surprised, but it stings. Even Javier, usually quick with a sarcastic quip or biting comment, says nothing. He just sits there, stuffing out a cigarette that’s magically appeared between his lips.

It feels like a betrayal, even though you know better than to expect any different.

And Mariella? She’s clearly distracted, caught up in the magnetic pull Javier has over people. The way she’s looking at him with that starstruck, wide-eyed awe only makes it worse. You can see it in her expression, the way her gaze flickers over him like she’s already imagining how it’s going to feel when he fucks her. Thinking with her pussy instead of having common sense.

You recognize it because you were just in her exact position, drawn into that same orbit. You find empathy for her, but not the other motherfuckers.

The room descends into awkward silence, as if everyone’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. But you’re not in the mood for a full-blown argument, so you shut down, slumping into the chair behind your camera with your arms crossed tightly over your chest.

You know it’s only a matter of time before all these feelings you’ve been aggressively pushing down come back up and make you snap, but for now, you continue to force it all away.

You’re assigned to shoot the stoic, wide shots while Frankie’s in charge of the close-ups, and honestly? You’re relieved. The last thing you need is to be up close, watching this trash unfold.

The scene starts with the typical, raunchy premise: Dad pays babysitter with his cock! It explains Mariella’s barely-there outfit and the cluttered coffee table with school notebooks, setting the scene.

Then there’s Javier who looks the part too; dressed in dark blue slacks, a typical white collared shirt with a few buttons popped open to give that I’m stressed, come take care of me vibe.

He’s the picture of temptation, and it’s obvious Mariella’s already in the clouds.

The filming begins and they share that cheesy, erotic dialogue and lustful touches. You feel yourself sink further into the chair, silently counting down the minutes until you’re decompressing by the beach.

She sinks to her knees before him, her doe eyes looking up at him with that practiced innocence they all seem to perfect so quickly. She reaches for the buttons on his slacks, her delicate fingers fumbling just a little before she pulls down the zipper and tugs at the waistband. She nuzzles her face against his thigh, brushing her lips against his skin, and finally pulls out his cock. Even soft, it’s still an impressive size— but it’s definitely not how this was supposed to go.

“Well, are you going to suck it or just stare at it?” Javier snaps, his tone cutting through the air with an edge that feels too sharp, too real. It doesn’t sound like the crudeness that’s meant to spice up the scene.

His hand shoots out and tangles in her hair, yanking her closer. He’s rougher than usual, harsher, as he forces her mouth onto him.

She wraps her lips around his head, suckling softly at first, then taking him deeper into her mouth. She’s trying to do her job, playing the part of the eager babysitter, but something’s off.

Javier’s head tilts back, eyes squeezed shut, but it’s not the usual look of pleasure that crosses his face. It’s more like he’s concentrating, forcing himself to feel something that isn’t there.

You can’t help it— your eyes flick around the room, looking at the rest of the crew. No one seems to be noticing what you’re seeing, their eyes all honed in on the action in front of them.

But you’re catching the small details like you always do.

After a few more moments, it’s clear that it’s not happening. Javier lets out a frustrated curse, pulling out of her mouth with an audible, wet pop. “Fuck—just, give me a second,” he grumbles, stepping back. Mariella wipes the saliva from her lips with the back of her hand, looking up at him with a mix of confusion and hesitation.

You take that as your cue. Reaching over, you stop the recording, your finger hesitating on the button for only a moment before pressing it. Frankie does the same, Steve lowers his mic and pulls his headset off.

Javier runs a hand through his hair, his eyes darting to the floor, like he’s trying to avoid looking at anyone directly. “I just need a minute,” he says again, but it’s more to himself than to anyone else.

Your gaze lingers on him for a second longer than you intend, and your mind flashes back to earlier, to the way he was with you. The memory is sharp and clear, the contrast striking. He’d come undone for you without hesitation, without needing any coaxing or forcing. Just words. But now, with Mariella kneeling in front of him, offering herself up like a gift, he’s struggling.

“How long will this minute take? We gotta be outta here soon so get it up before I get one of these two to take your place.”

Javier scoffs, dismissive, “Tape wouldn’t fucking sell.”

“Well one featuring a soft dick won’t either,” comes the retort, and the two of them start their back-and-forth bickering.

You rub at your temples, trying to ease the pressure building behind your eyes. This has to be some weird-ass dream; it sure as hell feels like it. Maybe you’re still in bed, blissfully sleeping until three in the afternoon.

Javier storms off and Steve puts his equipment down. “I’ll go talk to him.”

Robbie just waves him away. “Take five,” he mutters to the rest of you, going in the opposite direction. This is such a mess, and poor Mariella remains on her knees, picking at her cuticles.

“Please get up and sit on the couch. You look pathetic,” you say to her, not cruelly but bluntly. It’s not her fault, but the sight of her there is making you itch. She complies like a chastised child.

Frankie drops down beside you, letting out a breath that mirrors your own. “These things usually go like this?” He takes his hat off, ruffling his hair before putting it back on.

“No,” shit has just been weird amongst this group for weeks now. “Burnout is inevitable, I guess.” You’re not about to sit there and shit-talk Javier, despite everything. You might have a mountain of complicated feelings when it comes to him, but you won’t kick him while he’s down.

Before Frankie can respond, Robbie comes barreling back into the room, his face flushed with anger. His eyes lock onto you, and you can see the accusation in them before he even opens his mouth.

“This is your fault,” he spits out, voice sharp, acidic. “All that shit you were talking earlier— now he’s fucking broken.”

You narrow your eyes, standing your ground. “Excuse me?” you snap, incredulous. “I was making a valid point. How the hell is it my fault that he grew a conscience?”

“Y’know,” he starts, his words dripping with the kind of vile, misogynistic shit that makes your blood boil. “You’d do me more good in front of the camera. Have somethin’ shoved up in there to keep you fucking quiet.”

The reaction is immediate. You shoot up from your seat so fast the chair scrapes against the floor, the sound sharp and angry, mirroring how you feel. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Frankie stands too, his face hardening as he takes a step in front of you, finally coming to your defense. “Watch it,” he warns, and it feels like the whole situation could explode into something much worse.

Robbie, of course, just sneers “What? You gonna defend her? She’s been a pain in my ass for weeks—”

“I’m done.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can think them through, but they feel right.

You’re tired— so damn tired— of this whole mess. Of dealing with assholes like Robbie and Javier who think they can get away with saying whatever they want. “I quit.”

Your boss’s mouth opens as if he’s about to say something else, but you cut him off with a cutting glare. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to you treat me like shit because your precious Javier can’t get his dick hard. Go fuck yourself, Robbie.”

You don’t wait for a response. You turn on your heel and head for the door, your heart pounding in your chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You’ll double up on shifts at the bar or go back to waiting tables like you did throughout college. Whatever keeps you away from this bullshit.

As you stride down the hallway toward the entrance, you pass Javier and Steve. Javier’s face is stormy, brows knitted together as if he’s still reeling from whatever heated discussion they just had.

The moment he spots you, his expression shifts. There’s a flicker of surprise, maybe even concern.

“Where are you going?” Steve asks.

You yank the heavy, probably expensive for no reason, front door open, the sound echoing through the hallway. “I just quit,” you snap, voice sharp as glass. “See you never.”

🏷️ : @almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @libre-sol . @cherrysugarx . @goodvibesonly421 .

finally started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out. muchas gracias mis putitas (gn) (endearingly) 🖤

#pedro pascal #javier pena smut #javier peña smut #javier pena fic #javier peña fic #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfic #javier pena narcos #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña narcos #javier pena x you #javier peña x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfic

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 9 months ago

Text

Rules

Summary: Joel wants you pregnant. And you want to have Joel's baby. And not even a big council meeting would stop the two of you from getting what you wanted.

Pairing: Raider!Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 1.9k

Rating: E

Warnings: Raider!Joel who has his own little community, smut (public sex, unprotected sex), massive breeding kink, dirty talk, established relationship (kind of), unspecified age gap (around 15 years prob), massive exhibition kink, someone dies because he looks at reader for too long, so guns and death, mentions of drugs, Joel picks reader up and carries her away but this is fiction so Joel has super powers to carry anyone he likes anywhere because I say so

A/N: three fics, four days. I am going to hibernate into my horny jail now. Boop!

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It was getting dark and he still wasn’t back.

He told you he had the council meeting today, but you were running out of time. Every minute getting you farer away from the window you needed him to hopefully grant him his biggest wish.

Making him a Dad.

According to your calculations your fertile window for the month was closing and you needed him.

Joel and you found each other almost a year after the outbreak. You, alone since you fled your college on outbreak day, stumbling towards the abandoned Ikea store in search of just something to drink or eat, Joel stepping in front of you before you could even reach the door, his hand wrapping around your neck, making you look at him as he questioned what you were doing.

Even years later you felt like he was sent to you from a higher power to safe you.

To feed you.

To own you.

To fuck you.

You became his wife, not even a month after joining his little group, that now was bigger than ever before, people living in all the abandoned department stores around, living under his protection.

You were his only wife, even though he allowed all his men to have as many wives as they pleased.

He was pretty possessive about you, and you over him. Sure, you couldn’t actually do anything against him taking another wife if he wanted to, but he assured you from the beginning that he was a one wife kind of husband.

And he demanded the same in return, not that you had a problem with that.

Joel was known to be a fair but ruthless leader. He had no time for bullshit and he didn’t give second chances.

The power he wielded had become one of your biggest turn ons, fascinated how with a flick of his fingers, his men would dispose of every problem, every person he did not trust.

There weren’t many rules around here.

Listen to everything Joel says.

And don’t look at you the wrong way.

Something that you had to admit was hard when he was fucking you out in the open hallway.

Most of his men knew not to look at you too long, no matter if it was in passing or when Joel was fucking you in front of them.

You would look too, but you weren’t the one who would lose their cock or life for it.

Glancing at the clock you knew your fertile window was closing. He had fucked you twice today already, but you didn’t want to waste more time.

Standing up from the bed you took your clothes including your underwear off, grabbing a wrap dress he had found for you years before, wrapping it around your body. Pulling on some high heels he loved to see you in, looking at yourself in the mirror you gave yourself a small smirk, before you opened the door, waiting for your assigned guard of the day to step away from the door, before you started to walk towards where you knew Joel held his meetings.

„This is becoming a real fucking problem. A problem I pay you for to get rid off. What the fuck is taking so long?“ Joel hissed, his jaw twitching as he sat at the edge of the table, legs wide spread, a glass of whiskey in his right hand.

He had been stuck in this room with twenty of his men and nothing was going according to plan.

It was moment like this he really missed Tess. She’d have this shit done weeks ago.

„More clickers than we planned for. We hope we’ll be done by the end of tomorrow,“ Sam, one of the men who had been with his group the longest assured, and Joel sipped on his drink.

„I want the whole building cleared by the end of the week. Then I want you to extend the outer wall around it. We need more fucking space so we can extend the drug lab. Frank is expecting a new drop by the end of the month in exchange for more ammunition,“ he reminded them.

„I’ll take care of it personally,“ Tommy said, who was sitting to his right, looking at him and Joel gave him a quick nod.

„There are to many fucking assholes trying to get into this settlement. Too many to handle. Might be time to stop for a while,“ one of his other advisors spoke up but Joel wasn’t listening to anything after that, cause he heard the familiar clicking of your heels before the door opened and you walked in.

A vision in purple silk, giving him a big smile as you walked into the room, the men around him staggering to their feet to show you their respect.

„Please, don’t let me interrupt you. In fact, ignore my presence at all,“ you hummed, giving Tommy a quick peck to his cheek before you turned away from the table and straddled Joel’s lap, his hands coming to rest on your thighs.

The conversation behind him opened up again, Tommy taking over while Joel stared at you.

You made quick work of releasing the bow that held your dress together, letting the fabric part, his hungry eyes all over your naked body. One of his hands cupped one of your tits and you smiled at him.

„Whatcha up to baby girl?“ He asked, already hardening in his pants.

„Need you to cum in my wet little pussy again. Need you to fuck it deep inside of me so I can give you your baby,“ you leaned in, nibbling at his earlobe. He groaned as he tilted his head, his eyes closing for a moment as you kissed up his neck, his hands now both under your dress palming your ass roughly.

When his eyes opened he found one of his newer men, Tom, looking at you, his eyes widening for a moment when he saw Joel had caught him, looking away quickly.

„First strike,“ Joel’s voice boomed and you moaned before you kissed him, your hands in his hair, Joel’s eyes on Tom who had had the nerve to look at his wife. At you.

Everyone knew the rules.

They look at you for too long, they die. He had lost a lot of men that way, but he didn’t fucking care.

Your fingers were working on his zipper when the conversation in the room picked up again, one of the other men talking about the greenhouse and what shit they needed in the future.

Boring.

Joel grunted when your fingers wrapped around his cock, helping you pull his pants down a little so you could pull him out of his pants and he leaned down, sucking at you tits.

„You gonna fight our kid for my milk huh,“ you teased and he bit into your nipple, making you moan.

„Gotta get you pregnant first, baby girl,“ he sucked a bruised just above your right tit while you pumped his cock in your fist.

„You gonna make me shoot all my men if you tease me like that one day,“ he grunted, bringing one hand between your legs, three fingers slipping inside of you with ease, a smirk coming to his lips.

„My dirty little whore,“ he whispered against your ear and you gasped, your back arching against him, your dress falling down your shoulders, exposing your naked back to the room.

Not that you cared.

You loved when he fucked you in front of other people.

„Put your little pussy on this cock, baby girl,“ the fingers that had just been inside of you pushing into your mouth as you lifted your ass so you could line his cock up, sinking down on him slowly.

„Fuck baby,“ you moaned and he leaned back in his seat, both of his hands now on your ass as he looked up at you.

„Make yourself cum on this cock and I’ll fuck your ass later,“ he said and you whimpered as you began to ride him. Moving your hips on top of him, your hands on the armrests of his chair for leverage. He slapped your ass, hard, and you cried out.

He watched you satisfied as you fucked yourself on his cock, before his eyes found someone behind you.

„Don’t bother Elijah, his wife is super fucking pregnant. Find me tomorrow morning, and I’ll go,“ Joel said, still clearly listening to the conversation happening in front of him. You clenched around him and he looked at you again.

„You get so fucking wet for me like this. Maybe I should always let you fuck me in my meetings. Would make them a whole of a lot more enjoyable,“ he hummed at you and you smiled.

„You’d loose all your men within a week,“ you grinned, turning your head to look at Tommy.

„Except Tommy,“ you hummed and the man looked at you, giving you a wink.

„Tommy is family. He can look all he wants,“ Joel said and you winked back at Tommy before you focused back on Joel and began to bounce on top of him. The sound of skin slapping against skin and you moans filling the room. Joel played with your tits, pinching your nipple as you clenched around him. He pulled you against his chest, fucking up into you, his mouth against your ear.

„Cum for me and I’ll fuck you on the table. And I’ll let everyone look when I put a fucking baby into your belly,“ he whispered and you moaned loudly as your orgasm washed over you, only realising that he had picked you up and sat you down on the table, when he had pushed your back down against the cold surface and began to drill his cock into you.

„Watch how I fuck my slutty little wife full of my fucking cum,“ he grunted out with every thrust and you stretched your arms over your head, your tits moving with every hard thrust of Joel’s cock into you.

„Joel,“ you moaned, crying out when he slapped your clit.

„Gonna fuck you so full, you’ll be dripping all the way back to our rooms,“ he groaned, his eyes on you.

„Shit baby,“ you whined and he groaned.

„Watch,“ he grunted and you looked down, his cock pumping into you, your cum all over his cock, fucking you so hard the table was moving over the floor.

„Shit,“ he moaned, his thrusts getting sloppier until he twitched and filled you with his cum, pumping it deeply into you.

Still out of breath you gave him a dozy smile that he mirrored, before his eyes darkened, his gun in his hand the next moment, raising it up to shoot someone behind you.

„Inform Tom’s family that he won’t be back,“ he said to no one in particular before he reached for you, helping you sit up. Apparently Tom had in fact not stopped looking at you before Joel gave his permission to look.

He pulled the fabric of your dress back over your shoulders, his softening cock still inside of you, before he picked you up.

„Meeting is dismissed,“ he called over his shoulder, before he carried you back towards your rooms.

Where he fucked you once more to make sure it would finally take.

#my fic #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x fem. reader #Pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #raider!Joel Miller #tlou #tlou fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

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that-weird-thing-in-the-woods · 2 months ago

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Heyyy so if you’ve been around here long enough and payed attention to some of my hints about future posts so here you go!

🦭🌊Selkie au🦭🌊

===================================

So Danny with Jazz are looking through some old family books while Jack and Maddie are at a ghost Hunter convention or something and after like 30 minutes of this Danny finds a very old book, Danny and Jazz weren’t going to read it but the title and a note on the front got there attention

The title itself looks like it was scratched out and is unreadable but the note on the front says ‘For future generations of the Nightingale family’ while Danny is a bit confused about who the Nightingale family is but Jazz looks intrigued and when Danny asks her to explain Jazz says that the Nightingales were their dads OG family name so now their both interested in this book

So they read it and find out that their blood line from their dads side is full of silkie blood and that the ones who found this out hid it from the others in the family and next to the book was a box with a integrate design of seals and waves marked out by silver -{ Plot Convenience }- and as they open it they find three pelts, two fit them perfectly but there is a anther one that is much MUCH smaller than theirs and they just think is was a old relatives and just keeps it in the box

And a few weeks later they are still trying to figure out what to do with this stuff but they hid the book under Jazz’s bed under some extra blanket she keeps under there and his the box under Danny’s bed behind of some old stuff so that if Maddie or Jack find something under one of their beds they don’t find the rest and it was easier from them due to their parents being tired from the Conversation and not really paying attention to what they were doing

But they had to put plans on hold for what to do as Jazz was going to go look at some colleges that she may want to attend for a few days so she leaves but not before she and Danny take out a piece from the portal so they don’t have any emergency’s while Jazz is gone and can’t help

And while Jazz is gone, Maddie and Jack catches Danny changing from ghost to human and Maddie knocks him out and Jack brings him down to the lab and while Maddie is getting things ready for the experiments and stuff, Jack is putting on the restraints and that’s when Danny wakes up and he start to move and get out while pleading for them to let him go and that’s when Maddie and Jack do what the people here in the Dc x Dp love to do traumatize the fuck out of this boy

And a few days before Jazz is supposed to came back Dani goes to the Fenton home so jazz and Danny can explain what they wanted to ( they texted her saying they wanted to tell her something very important because since she’s Danny’s clone daughter and has his DNA she should have some silkie blood in her and want her opinion on this ) so when she doesn’t see Danny Mama and that’s when Maddie finds her and knocks her out like she did with Danny

As jazz comes home and sees an empty house she just thinks Danny is out with Sam and tuck and her parents are doing something and as she just abouts finishes unpacking she hears a wail and cries that she recognizes as Danny’s voice and big sister instincts ( and a bit of silkie instincts ) kick in and she goes running to the lab

She finds Danny pined down to the table and Dani’s body next to him her body looks like it is going to destabilize any second and that’s when Maddie and Jack notices her and they all start to fight and Jazz manages to knock out her parents and get Danny out of his restraints and he goes to Dani but not before grabbing one of the ecto injections and helping her but due to the damage Jack and Maddie did, she de-ages to about a 1-2 year old

And now that Dani isn’t going to die, Danny and jazz start running to their rooms so they can grab the box and book and some money because they can’t really grab to many things to where their going and run out of the house to a bus stop at the edge of town, where no one goes but buses still stop and they get on and they do this a few more times until they are at a port town and managed to get on one of the fairies is going to a remote island where there is only about 70 people total and as they get there they hide until it is late at night so no one sees them

And they open the box and wrap the pelt around them and little Dani and as they do a pod of seals come closer to them and start making noises almost like their call them back into the water, back home…

And as they start to walk into the water and swim to the pod they know they made the right decision and maybe they can be around humans again

Someday…

——————————————————————————

And now onto the DC part of this thing!

So while on a mission to a remote fishing island because something the fishermen seeing at night and Damian was sent out because the Batfam got mad at him due to him seriously injuring a mugger who was injuring a small animal and now he’s here

As he walks around the island it is around 1 in the morning he notices some sounds around a part of the island no one goes to due to sharp rocks around and as he climbs down that’s when he sees them a seal and their pup swimming around until a large wave causes by one of the boats in the water hit the pup and send them up on the beach and almost immediately Damien goes to help the pup back into the water back to their mother who is swimming close and watching him help their pup

And as he puts the pup back into the water they swim back to their mother and he calls this a good day

The next day around that area he comes back and sees the mother and pup again who seem happy to see him

And this goes on for a few days until a few days before he’s supposed to go back to Gotham he goes to the area to see the mother-pup duo and that’s when he sees them a person around his age with a toddler around 1-2 years old as he is standing there he makes eye contact with the person and…he recognizes those eyes as the mothers eyes and they smile at him as the little girl who he now knows as the little seal pup and runs up to him and holds her arms up expectantly and who is he to deny her so he picks her up and walks over to the mother and now that he is closer he notices the brownish red seal that sometimes came around this here but as a very tall woman who looks to be 18-19 or very early 20s

And they explain who they are ( while Damian is internally simping over the pretty silkie boy, Damian called dips this is his beloved now ) and what brought them here and stuff and Damian makes it his mission to protect them ( and get into a relationship with the pretty boy ) so he stays for a bit longer than the OG mission needed too but the Batfam sent him here so they didn’t have to deal with his actions so if here for a bit longer why would they care

Meanwhile, at the Batcave : running around the headless chickens trying to find out why there youngest isn’t coming back in Gotham when he should have

——————————————————————————

And now on to the details!

For Danny’s I’m thinking something like this

And for his pelt

Mixed with this

-{ I refuse to believe Danny isn’t a dramatic ass bitch when it comes to fashion }-and here is the hair I’m thinking for him

And for Jazz I’m thinking this

And for her pelt this is what I’m thinking

And hair

===================================

And that’s it! This is inspired my the movie “Song of the sea” that movie has me in a chokehold anyway I hope you guys like it -{ also tumblr kinda kicked me out well I was writing this so if some part are weird that’s why}- Byeeeee

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bvidzsoo · 6 months ago

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Take me to Paris...

▽ Neighbor!Seonghwa ▽

∞ Author: bvidzsoo

∞ Pairing: Park Seonghwa x female reader

∞ Warning: light mocking, blood, murder ∞ Word count: 5.6k ∞ Genre: non-idol!au, mafia!au, single mother!au, moving in together!au ∞ Rating: nc-17 ∞ Summary: With the appearance of Park Seonghwa in your neighborhood on a random afternoon, you find yourself running into him more often than not. You can't help but be skeptical of him, but I mean, your daughter loves him, so he must be a good man, right?

∞ A/N: I haven't forgotten about this little drabble series I have started a while ago, fear not hehe! Finally, Seonghwa's part is here, I hope it's enjoyable as I find it wonky lol. I don't know yet who I'll be posting next, it could be either Hongjoong, or Wooyoung, or even Mingi. Oh, and nothing is too detailed so you don't have to worry about that. I'm not starting a taglist for this one, sorry<3 (you'll have to lurk around) Feedback is much appreciated and I hope you enjoy!

▽ Listen to this before or while reading! ^^

∥ Hongjoong ∥ Seonghwa ∥ Yunho ∥ Yeosang ∥ San ∥ Mingi ∥ Wooyoung ∥ Jongho ∥

Summer was nearing its end, the weather slowly turning cloudier and moodier. The mornings were chill, refreshing, but throughout the day it would warm up significantly, allowing you to walk around wearing thin and cute outfits. However, by the time the evening came, you’d have to cover up with something warm to keep yourself from catching a cold. All of that while trying to remain fashionable, well, whatever a four-year-old found fashionable enough. Wrestling my little one into outfits that would keep her both warm but not too hot was rather difficult as she turned out to have a rather stubborn persona even at her young age. Not liking to be coddled, but also hating to be alone was something we battled with daily, except on the days when her nanny came over so that I could go to work. My little one hasn’t been trusting of strangers since an even younger age, big eyes wary of anyone who came too close and cooed at her. Perhaps my overprotective tendencies played a big role in my daughter being skeptical of those around her, unless they were little girls who liked to play dress-up and organize tea parties in blanket forts.

Life as a single mother hadn’t been easy, but we managed just fine—have been for a while now. My parents lived in the city next to ours, a mere one-hour long drive away, and that also played a role in me learning how to be independent while navigating through motherhood for the first time. I would be lying if I said it was easy and an absolutely lovely journey, but I also would be lying if I said I haven’t been enjoying every single part of it, every little step my beautiful daughter has taken by my side. Without my two best friends, I probably wouldn’t be living as comfortably as I was at the moment, would be probably juggling between jobs, and considering moving back in with my parents. Arin’s father hasn’t been part of our lives since the second he found out I was pregnant, instead, he ran off to work on a cruise ship, throwing in the excuse that he’d be too absent in our lives like that, and instead he’d like to prevent his daughter from growing up wondering when her father would be back. However, due to his stupid choices he ended up making her wonder why she didn’t have a father like all the other children she went to kindergarten with or played at the playground with. Everyone makes mistakes, and mine was trusting my highschool sweetheart, who also happened to be the biggest asshole and player known to mankind.

With the weather changing drastically and the new school year being just around the corner, I tried to take my little one to the playground as often as I could, wanting her to enjoy the little freedom summer break offered us. My job was rather flexible and allowed me to spend a lot of time with my daughter as I more often than not worked from home, only required to step inside the headquarters when there were important meetings and business proposals. Arin had been excited when I told her we’d be going to the playground once again, before it could get dark, with the thought in mind to let her know that I would be sending her to daycare as I have decided to take on a second job as well. We managed just fine, but I wanted her to have more comfort, more toys, more pretty clothes that she could show off whenever she wanted to.

Her dark hair was in two little pigtails, bouncing on the top of her head with every step she took. The purple jeans she chose to wear didn’t match with the rest of her outfit, but I couldn’t care less when I saw the happy look on her face as we walked over to the mirror. Her blouse was a simple beige colour and had all sorts of different coloured flowers decorating it, her red socks peeking out from her white shoes. Thankfully her most favourite playground was in our neighbourhood, just around the block, and she was more than eager to meet her friends today too. I had held her little hand as we walked down the pavement, grinning as she babbled on about whatever cartoon she had been watching earlier, elated to tell her best friend about it too. Stepping inside the gated playground, I was quickly forgotten as she rushed over to her friends, not paying mind to my request of always staying within my sight. I had walked over to an empty bench and sat down, watching my daughter play around with other children with a smile on my face.

At times, I wondered what life would be like without her. Whether I would have stayed here or moved to another country, whether I would have signed up for another college or remained with the diploma I have right now. Whether I would have chosen a career that was more active and sociable than the one I had now, secluded and homebound. Whether I would have found a man that actually cherishes me and my child, whether he would have gotten married to me first and wouldn’t have run away, leaving a pregnant woman alone to fend for herself and their baby. But it was better without my ex, he would have been a horrible father, and I’d rather my little Arin not have a father figure while growing up than have one that is horrible and makes her hate all men.

It didn’t take long for the other mothers to approach me, wide smiles on their faces as they were happy to see me, happy that Arin was here to play with their children. Most of them were stay at home mothers until their children grew past the point of constantly needing attention and help, and they were rather friendly, understanding, and quite helpful if I needed guidance or a little bit of help. Doyoung’s mother was the friendliest out of them all, she never failed to make my day better and she always brought cookies for the two of us to snack on while our kids played around in the sand. But today she wasn’t here, and that meant I had to face Jake’s mother on my own, a woman that was far from being nice, and never failed to find ways to belittle me for being a single mother. She never said it, but I knew she thought I was a whore; I could see it in her eyes whenever she grinned that fake grin of hers.

“Ah, the weather is so lovely today.” And to my luck, it had been her who approached me first, the other mothers slowly coming up to us, greeting us with smiles and little waves. I paid her no mind, instead looked for my little girl, finding her on the swings as Nakyoung gently pushed her, making Arin giggle loudly.

“Is this real snake skin?!” A mother, one that was rather shallow, exclaimed as she grabbed for Jake mother’s purse, mouth having fallen open.

“Of course, it is,” Jake’s mother chuckled, looking over her sunglasses, “I don’t wear fakies.”

I tried to keep my eyeroll minimal as Jake’s mother threw a fleeting look my way, never failing to flaunt her wealth and the fact that I owned one fake Louis Vuitton bag. Sue me, the design was elegant, and I wasn’t about to leave it at the thrift store just because it was a fake one.

“It must be nice to have a rich husband.” Emma’s mother sighed dreamily, her lipstick a little smudged, but nobody pointed it out to her.

“It is rather comfortable,” Jake’s mother giggled, pushing her lavish curls behind her shoulders, “saves you from a lot of house chores and work I’d rather not do.”

“How are you today?” I felt a soft nudge against my knee, and I turned my head to face Mingyu’s mother, a woman who was beautiful beyond her years, well-mannered, wise, and very sweet. I liked her just as much as I liked Doyoung’s mother, sometimes the three of us would grab some coffee if our schedules aligned.

“Just fine, and you?” I asked, our voices hushed as we tuned out the other mothers’ conversation, not curious of whatever boasting Jake’s mother was on about. She couldn’t tell us anything new, she always repeated the same old stories, changing a few details here and there, thinking we wouldn’t notice.

“Mingyu’s been restless today,” His mother sighed, pursing her lips, “the more he grows, the harder it is to make him sit still.”

“Arin is energetic too.” I chuckled, watching Mingyu’s mother with an understanding look, “And she loves throwing tantrums if things don’t go her way.”

“Ah, of course.” Mingyu’s mother chuckled, shaking her head, “Maybe our little ones learnt it from each other, because Mingyu’s been doing them more frequently too.”

“Certainly, they must be conspiring—”

“Arin and Mingyu’s mothers,” Jake’s mother raised her voice, lips pulled into a fake grin, “are you leaving out others from your conversation now? Isn’t that rude?”

The other mothers chuckled, rather awkwardly, but Mingyu’s mother remained calm as she raised her eyebrows at Jake’s mother, “I don’t think having a private conversation with someone is considered rude despite sitting in a group.”

With a snort, I added, “Especially if only one person is talking in that group, that feels ruder to me…”

The other mothers, besides Mingyu’s, looked around awkwardly, some clearing their throats as the others tried to play it off as funny as they chuckled. Jake’s mother’s lips formed a tight line as she cleared her throat, gripping her authentic snake skin purse like anyone would want to steal it from her.

“I was merely sharing how much my lovely husband loves me.” Jake’s mother chuckled, voice dripping with honey as she blinked innocently, “You know, he’s always eager to please me, and, frankly, if a snake skin purse is what makes me happy as I have to stay at home and raise our child, he’ll get it for me without a fuss. What has your husband given you—”

Her insult wasn’t new, nor impressive, as I blinked at her, lips slowly pulling into a small smile. Mingyu’s mother scoffed next to me, and the other mothers’ looked rather uncomfortable due to the atmosphere Jake’s mother had created now. Really, if the woman wanted to hurt me, she’d have to get a lot more creative with her stupid back-handed insults.

“You know,” My voice was levelled, calm, “if I want to make myself happy, I buy that damn snake skin purse myself. I don’t need a husband who forces me to stay at home, stealing away my freedom, while he goes out and cheats on me as much as he’d like, knowing that when he returns, I’ll be waiting for him with warm dinner on the table and open legs.”

Well, that pretty much shut up the other mothers as Jake’s gasped, looking more than appalled by what I dared say to her face. I wasn’t insinuating anything, but knowing her, she definitely made it about herself in her pea sized brain, gaping like a fish as I rolled my eyes at her and turned my head to face Mingyu’s mother. She had her hand in front of her mouth, trying to muffle her giggles. A young child screamed all of a sudden, alerting us mothers as our heads whipped in the direction of the screams.

“Dear!” Kyuhyun’s mother exclaimed, running over to her child as he was clutching his little knee with tears streaming down his face. Realizing that I haven’t been checking on my little Arin, I let my eyes survey the playground, quickly coming to the alarming realization that she wasn’t anywhere. Heart suddenly racing in my chest, I jumped up to my feet and whipped my head around, alerting Mingyu’s mother.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t see Arin!” My voice sounded breathless as I left my belongings on the bench, taking off in a jog towards the sand. Mingyu was by himself, building a sand tower as he glanced up at me, his little canines showing as he grinned.

“A tower!” He pointed at his sculpture, but I couldn’t focus on that right now.

“Have you seen Arin?” I asked panicked, feelings my hands shake as I tried to fight the impeding panic that threatened to overtake my rational thoughts. I had to stay level-headed if I wanted to find my little girl.

“She went there, I think.” Mingyu pointed behind the big slides, that part of the playground rather obscured as it was covered with large bushes and overgrown grass. Thanking him quickly, I took off towards where the little boy had pointed, lump in my throat and heart in my chest racing wildly as I realized the gate was open and my little girl was talking to a man, giggling and letting him pat her head.

“Arin!” My voice sounded as panicked as I felt on the inside, it was loud and stern, alerting my daughter and the man she stood with. My feet carried me over in no time and I scooped her up in my arms, hugging her tightly, uncaring that she was getting heavier and I couldn’t carry her as much as I would’ve liked to, “Arin.”

I whispered against her hair, kissing her cheek as she giggled, hugging me around the neck as I finally turned my head, glaring at the stranger. But it took me by surprise how well-dressed and handsome he was, standing tall with his hands behind his back, shoulders pulled back, expression blank. The right side of his long black hair was slicked back, the left strands falling into his eye, slightly obscuring it from view. Despite the roundness of them, his eyes were sharp and fierce, it made my heart race once again as I couldn’t read his expression, scared of what he wanted. His nose was tall and his lips plush and plump, skin perfect and sun-kissed, “What the hell are you doing talking to my daughter?!”

My eyes swiftly checked him out again, taking in the expensive looking outfit he wore. His pants were of leather and hugged his long legs elegantly, obscuring the high heeled boots he was wearing. Despite the heat, he wore a black turtleneck with a white shirt and vest over it, all tucked inside his leather pants, with a black coat draped over his shoulders. His necktie was loose, but not to the point it would make his outfit look unkept. For a second, I wondered how he managed it with all the layers of clothing if I was sweating in a simple tee and ruffled midi-skirt.

“I’m afraid you misunderstood my intentions, Miss.” The man’s voice was deep, yet pleasant, taking me off guard by how calm and reassuring it sounded. It didn’t match his face nor outlook, “I was passing by, on my way to my car, when I saw her stumble past the unlocked gate. Worried that she was lost or would run into bad people, I decided to stop and ask her if she was here alone or with someone, with the intention of walking her back to you.”

I gulped as Arin nuzzled against my neck, peeking at the stranger with a shy giggle, “He’s handsome!”

“Arin.” I muttered, and threw her an unimpressed look, “Is it true what the man is saying?”

“Yes!” Arin exclaimed, suddenly pulling away from my neck as she grinned widely at the man. I’ve never seen her act like that towards strangers before, my eyebrows raised in surprise as I watched her make grabby hands at him, “You promised you’d carry me.”

The man’s chuckle was deep as Arin started pouting, making me feel embarrassed slightly, “Arin, you can’t ask people to just carry you around, especially not strangers—”

“But he’s not—” Her eyebrows furrowed as she struggled for a second, “stranger, he’s Seong—hwa?”

The man chuckled and fixed his coat as his hands slipped inside the pockets of his leather pants, “Seonghwa, yes. I promised to carry you to your mommy, but she’s here now, so I don’t have to do that anymore.”

“But—” Arin pouted, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she gave me puppy eyes, “can’t he be my daddy?”

“Arin.” I hissed mortified, cheeks flushing as the stranger raised an eyebrow, looking rather elegant as he did so, “I told you, you can’t ask random men to be your father—I’m sorry.”

I faced the stranger—Seonghwa—and bowed my head as Arin whined, kicking her legs and my ribs subsequently. I grimaced and went to chastise her, but to my surprise, the stranger stepped closer, eyes narrowed, but not maliciously.

“You’re hurting your mother, stop kicking.” The authority in his voice made both Arin and I pause as we both gazed at him with wide eyes, “You should thank her instead for coming to find you, and don’t wander off again, there’s a lot of bad people in the world.”

“Is that true?” Arin whispered, her round eyes falling on me as her lower lip jutted out. I sighed and nodded, facing the man again.

“Thank you, really, and I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” I bowed my head again, then placed Arin onto the ground, taking her hand into mine.

“Be more careful next time, you never know who you come across.” There was an almost dangerous lull to his tone, eyes slightly narrowing before he bowed his head and took off, probably towards his car. I gulped, the lump finally gone from my throat as I watched Seonghwa disappear around the corner, not a speck of dust on his expensive clothes. Then, I felt Arin squeeze my arm and sniff, making me look down at her to find her crying.

“Arin, what’s wrong?” I asked worried, feeling panicked again as all sorts of scenarios ran through my mind. Maybe Seonghwa did something to her and she was scared to say it in front of him.

“Seong—hwa promised to buy me cotton candy once we found you.” Tears rolled down my little one’s cheeks, making me chuckle as I crouched down to be eye level with her, “And he said he’d buy you coffee too.”

“He said that?” I asked surprised, wiping her tears away.

“Yes, he said he likes your skirt.” My eyebrows furrowed as I pressed a reassuring kiss against her chubby and rosy cheek.

“Does he now?” I muttered to myself as I stood up again, and tried to shake off the unease as I guided us back inside the playground. This was a weird interaction and it’s left me feeling uneasy and hopeful that something like this wouldn’t happen again.

Days, weeks, passed by and it seemed like the stranger from the playground was everywhere now. Park Seonghwa, he had said his name was on a random Saturday afternoon, when we bumped into each other at a rather small flower shop, ten minutes away from my neighbourhood. I hadn’t been looking where I was going as I was busy multitasking—as in opening the shop’s door while typing away on my phone to the nanny that I would be home in fifteen minutes—and thus, the second I was out the door I had collided against a hard chest. The apology died down in my throat upon seeing the familiar face, heart racing out of unease rather than excitement. But Seonghwa had been nice, helped me pick up the bouquet I had dropped, and then offered to drive me home as the wind had picked up, dark storm clouds promising a downpour that would come rather soon. But, as I had taught my little Arin to not trust strangers, I didn’t trust this man either, and politely declined his offer. He didn’t seem weird nor made me feel uncomfortable, but I was wary of him. After all, the way we met was more suspicious than not.

The next time we ran into each other was barely a few days after the encounter at the flower shop, when I was out early in the morning, picking up fresh bread and some chocolate croissants that Arin loves a lot. My best friends had slept over the night prior, and so, it was safe for me to leave the apartment on my own, the two would watch over Arin if she were to wake up earlier than expected. The bakery had an adjacent coffee shop as well, and while I waited for my coffee order, I had stepped into line to order the delicacies, unassuming of the round eyes watching me from a table placed by the entrance. I was engrossed in reading through my emails as it was finally my turn in line, but the barista called my name to get my coffee right as I had placed my order for the pastries, and I had no choice but to step aside and quickly fetch my coffee. However, when I made it back to the cashier, the delicacies and my coffee have been paid for. When I asked how, the cashier just giggled about a tall and handsome man, dressed in an expensive suit, having paid for my purchases before he hurried outside. I had swiftly turned around, eyes wide as I caught a quick glimpse of Seonghwa sitting inside a very expensive looking Mercedes Benz parked across the street. My heart had started racing, but not out of unease anymore, but out of curiosity and wonder.

Then the next week had arrived, and Arin and I were at a playhouse when suddenly Seonghwa was sat at our table, smiling widely as he offered an unopened bag of marshmallows to Arin. I couldn’t help but gape at him, wondering whether it was coincidence that he had Arin’s favourite snack at hand. He apologized for having sat at our table uninvited, but he said his niece worked at the playhouse, and upon seeing us he wanted to greet us. Arin was beyond enthralled and begged Seonghwa to stay with us, managing to convince the both of us as we gave in at the end, keen to entertain my young daughter. It was rather heartwarming seeing Seonghwa so eager to play with Arin as they both made their way to the trampolines, Seonghwa looking out of place in his fancy leather outfit. Upon finishing my orange juice, I joined the two and was rather surprised to find myself enjoying Seonghwa’s company. Despite his fierce looks, he was a gentle man with a kind heart, happily playing with Arin, and letting her drag him around while he tried to make conversation with me as well. When I had put Arin to bed, she asked whether we could invite Seonghwa over to our house for a yummy meal.

Not much to my surprise anymore, a day later, Seonghwa and I crossed paths at the convenience store, and I decided to stop being so uptight and stirred up a conversation with him, inquiring of his sudden appearances wherever I went. He said he had recently moved into the neighbourhood, hence why we were crossing paths more often, and he had always liked making new friends, so he was rather eager to get to know me, if I also wanted that. I still didn’t fully trust him—he was still a stranger after all—but I decided to agree to hanging out in the weekend, of going someplace silent and relaxing. Arin could stay with the nanny this time; I didn’t want to involve her just yet knowing she liked Seonghwa rather a lot.

It had been a day before the agreed upon hangout, when I was walking home from a meeting that got drawn out due to a business partner showing up unannounced. Thankfully one of my friend’s was free for the night and went over to my house to help out as the nanny couldn’t stay for the evening as well, stressing me out even more. The sky was dark and the air chilly as I had gotten off the bus. I hadn’t driven to my workplace because I thought the meeting wouldn’t be more than two hours, meaning that it would’ve been still light outside when I had to return home. But that was hours ago, and now I just barely managed to catch the last bus, eager to get home and bury myself under the warm blankets, cuddled up next to Arin and my friend, probably having to watch Arin’s favourite Barbie movie again.

The neighbourhood was quiet as my heels clicked loudly, my pace quickening as I could feel a blister form right underneath my big toe, making me hiss out in pain as I stepped rather wonkily on it. My wrists had started aching from how many notes I had taken, and the satchel bag that hung over my shoulder was heavier than usual due to my laptop being inside it. I passed the convenience store just as the old lady was closing up, and we briefly greeted each other as I sighed loudly, my apartment just three blocks away now, right around the corner. The streets were quiet and a few lampposts were faulty as they flickered, then completely went out, making me shiver as it reminded me of horror movie scenes. My breaths were laboured and my gut feeling told me to just hurry up, so ignoring the ache of my foot due to the blister, I started walking faster, my heels clicking harder against the concrete. Much to my alarm, I could hear hurried footsteps behind myself, almost as if they were trying to catch up to me. My heart had started racing as I gripped my satchel bag tightly, ready to swing it at whoever if they tried to come at me.

I heard a hiss behind and I decided to look back, eyes widening instantly when they fell on a masked man, who had started running at me now. I shrieked and took off, the heels not being an obstacle as I made my way down the street, clutching my bag tightly as it tried to swing around my body. Nothing could’ve stopped me as I ran for my life, chest heaving as I tried not to slow down, the apartment complex I lived in barely a block away now. But the masked man was catching up and I knew I couldn’t outrun him, so I tried to quickly think of an escape route where I could hideout and phone the police. My heart was pumping fast and my lips had started trembling as my body and mind were filled with adrenaline, fuelling my senses to push harder as I made a sharp turn to the left. The alleyway was dark, I hadn’t been here before, and my blood ran cold when I realized the dire mistake I have made. It was a dead-end alleyway, a wired tall fence separating it from the next passage. I was trapped in as I whirled around, eyes wide as they fell on the masked man blocking my only exit. He cackled, suddenly something sharp and glinting appearing in his hands. It was a knife. My body had started trembling as I tried to come up with a plan, hand him over whatever he asked for, but before I could open my mouth to plead for my life, the man stopped abruptly, then heavily fell over, hitting the ground with a loud thud.

I gasped as I watched him frozen, confused and scared of what has happened. Looking around, I couldn’t see anyone, and so, reluctantly I made my way towards the masked man. But when I finally reached him, my eyes widened in horror at the blatant bullet hole in the back of his head, blood oozing out of it onto the pavement, flowing towards the soles of my high heels. I whimpered as I walked around the dead body, eyes fixated on it as if it would revive him, when I crashed into a hard chest. I gasped and opened my mouth to shriek, to call for help, but instead it got muffled by a leather gloved hand, my body getting pushed against the side of one of the buildings the alleyway was encompassed between. My body trembled as I looked up, eyes getting even wider, if possible, as I recognized the familiar face.

“Seo-Seonghwa?” I whispered, eyes falling back onto the dead man before they snapped back to Seonghwa, “What—what is—”

“Shh,” He whispered, pushing the hair out of my eyes as he gently caressed my cheek with his gloved hand, “You’re safe now, nothing’s happened.”

“But—” I had to gulp hard, heart hammering against my ribcage as Seonghwa’s round eyes were the softest I’ve ever seen them be, lips pulled into an almost motherly smile. He was calm, way too calm, as if he was used to this, “But the man’s dead, I—”

“He shouldn’t have tried to rob a woman.” Seonghwa’s sharp words cut me off, his grip slipping towards my chin as he grabbed me firmly, pulling my head closer to his, “He was a dangerous person, I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

Upon hearing his words I shuddered, eyes reluctantly traveling lower on his body, stopping on the black gun he held in his free hand, making me gasp, “Seonghwa, who are you—”

“I can keep you safe.” He cut me off once again, tilting my head back by my chin, our gazes meeting, “You and Arin, I can keep the both of you safe, never to worry about anything again. I can give you luxuries, vacations, anything the two of you want. Good schools, high education for Arin, whatever she’ll want in the future. I’ll give you all of that in exchange for a little something.”

I gulped, throat dry as my heart hammered against my ribcage furiously, my skin cold from the chilly air but from the lack of the adrenaline too, “What?”

My voice sounded small and afraid, but Seonghwa just smiled gently again, closing his eyes as he inhaled slowly, “Move in with me.”

“Wha-what?!” I yelped, trying to yank my head out of Seonghwa’s grip, but he held me firmly. Suddenly, he started leaning closer, making me shrink back as I was afraid he’d point the gun at me if I didn’t do what he asked of me.

“I’ve grown fond of you and Arin; I want to keep you safe.” Seonghwa explained, making my mind a jumbled mess of questions, confusion, and fright, “Did you know the father of your child has hired a detective to follow you two around? He wants to take Arin away.”

“What?!” I screwed my eyes tightly shut, head thumping from Seonghwa’s confusing words, he wasn’t making sense, “He hasn’t even been in her life, why now?”

“For money, of course.” Seonghwa sighed, tone growing colder, and I opened my eyes to find him sneering at the wall behind me, “He’s not a good man, Arin can’t fall into his hands—”

“And she won’t!” I exclaimed, gripping the collar of his leather jacket rather desperately, “How do you know all of this?!”

“I’m Park Seonghwa,” Seonghwa answered with a humoured chuckled, gripping my wrists as he removed my grip gently from his collar, “son of the chairman of Park Enterprises. You do know my family owns every nightclub in the high end of the city, right?”

I nodded, shocked to find out he was the son of the powerful Park Senior. I gulped, suddenly mulling over his words, wondering how much of it was true, “And?”

“Underground activities are much more fun than the legal ones, Y/N.” Seonghwa chuckled, bopping my nose with a gloved finger, making me flinch back, “I’m just saying…I’m the most powerful man in probably the whole country, are you sure you want to miss out on this proposal?”

“I don’t trust you.”

“You’ll trust me soon enough.” He grinned, a little wicked and devilishly handsome, then leaned down and pressed a kiss against my cheek, leaving me stunned. I averted my eyes when his gaze fell on me, and accidentally looked at the dead man. Something coiled in my stomach and I had to gulp down the bile in my throat, fighting against the nausea that warned me that I would throw up as my body started shaking again, “Don’t look at him.”

Appearing in my sight, Seonghwa gently turned my head away and smiled softly again, “Deal? For Arin?”

I gulped, realizing I was crazy for what I was about to say, “Deal, for Arin.”

Seonghwa grinned and then threw his arm around my shoulder, turning me away from the dead man as he led us back onto the main street, at least eight masked men hurrying out of a black van and inside the alleyway. Seonghwa didn’t let me look back as he clicked his tongue and ushered me towards his Mercedes Benz. I steeled my nerves and reluctantly sat inside, fidgeting in the leather seat.

“I still expect us to go on that date tomorrow.” Seonghwa said once buckled up.

“Date?” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at him, the engine purring to life loudly.

“Did you really think it was just a casual hangout?”

“Yes.”

Seonghwa chuckled and then faced ahead, pressing play on the radio, “Have you ever been to Paris, my dear?”

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shellshocklove · 8 months ago

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does anyone know where the love of god goes? | joel miller

pairing/AU: joel miller x female!reader – post breakout & no ellie AU

summary: crossing the country alone as he searches for his brother, joel stumbles on a farm. winter is closing in, and against his better judgement he's convinced to stay. as the frost covers the land like a blanket, a warmth ignites in his heart for the young woman who's home he finds himself in.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so minors dni!!! canon-typical violence, age gap (reader is mid to late twenties), swearing, dead animals, joel being a sad man, masturbation, no use of y/n

a/n: i soft launched this ao3 last month and it flopped lol so i'm gonna keep my expectations low for this series. anyways this has been a story i've been thinking about since probably october. this is the first part of what i'm hoping will be 3 parts. happy reading i guess

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3 / playlist

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.

The leaves rustled against Joel’s boots with every step he took. The sun had turned traitor cold, and he couldn’t feel its kiss against his cheek no more. The trees shivered above him in the wind – the only sound for miles except his heavy steps.

Did he still exist, with no one around? Joel had never minded being alone; after the breakout he’d found that he sometimes preferred it. People could be… well, when you’ve seen the worst of humanity, maybe it’s best to leave it behind.

And wasn’t he the worst of humanity? The things he’d done. The people he’d killed, and killed for. The people he’d lost.

But he had to keep going. For Tess. He promised.

Every night as he stared into the flames his thoughts would drift to her – the memories flickering in the fire. They should’ve never gone through that museum – it was supposed to have been empty – they should’ve never left Boston in the first place. Now Tess is gone because of him, him and his stupid plan to find his brother.

And for what? How is he ever gonna find Tommy?

Joel didn’t even know where he was. Nebraska? South-Dakota? Maybe he’d made it to Wyoming and just didn’t know it? Abe had told him ‘Cody Tower’, but Joel hadn’t seen anything other than mother nature for weeks.

Everything had started to look the same. Trees and more trees, a mountain in the distance, a grey and heavy sky above him. He’d been walking for forever. Slowly he moved west– or at least he thought he was. On the days where the sun hung high in the sky and wasn’t shielded behind a cloudy partition, he liked to watch it as it dipped below the earth. As the days turned shorter and shorter, the display of color had started to get more vivid. Joel would watch the light blue turn red and bloody, fiery tongues of flames licking over the horizon while the sharp edges of the mountains, and the triangular shapes of the trees faded into an intense black– like the shape of the mountain and the trees had been cut out with scissors. There wasn’t much to stay alive for anymore– but Joel lived for those few moments where nature painted with fire. Humanity might’ve gone to shit, but the cyclical regularity of mother nature gave Joel a small sense of peace.

But he missed the kiss of the sun against his cheek now. He’d moved into a large forest a few days ago. Tall trees hovered over him like giants and cast shadows down at him. It was colder here than out in the open country, but at least he’d been somewhat shaded from the rain pouring from the grey cover above his head the last few days.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

The sound stopped Joel in his tracks. Muscle memory worked on its own, gripping the shotgun slung over his shoulder. He listened for the sound again, to the steady rhythm echoing through the forest.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

With slow calculated steps Joel walked in the direction of the sound with the shotgun held tightly to his chest, his finger hovered over the trigger. The chopping sound got louder as he closed in on a man. He couldn’t tell his age with the man’s back turned – but he was strong – Joel could tell from how hard the man’s axe hit the tree trunk.

Taking another silent step, Joel got in position, “How ‘bout you slowly turn around and place that axe on the ground.”

Joel’s voice was hoarse after no use, but still cold and calculated as he spoke his order. He could see he’d startled the man, probably thinking he was alone, just like Joel had thought mere minutes ago.

The man obeyed, turning around slowly. He was older than Joel, maybe mid-seventies, maybe older if the wrinkles and creases around his eyes and nose were to be believed. His hair was white as snow matching his unkempt beard. Joel caught his eye. Strong and steady, no trace of fear one would think a man would feel while having a gun pointed at them.

Joel’s grip around the gun tightened. He wasn’t afraid to pull the trigger if that’s where this was headed. The man watched him calmly before he bent his knees, throwing the axe haphazardly on the ground.

“Kick it over here,” Joel commanded again, and the man obeyed, kicking the axe clumsily towards Joel.

Slowly Joel crept closer, gun still pointed at the man. He locked the heel of his shoe against the shaft, dragging the axe behind him and out of the way.

“Hands where I can see ‘em.”

“Are you going to kill me, son?”

The man’s question puzzled Joel. He said it so calmly, like how you’d ask someone to pass the salt.

“That depends on you.” Joel’s answer pulled at the old man’s lips, a small huff of a laugh escaping them.

“Well, you’re the one with the gun. I think it depends on you.”

Joel tightened his grip on the shotgun again – he didn’t know why –to frighten the man? He didn’t seem very frightened.

“Are you alone?” Joel asked.

“Not anymore,” the man answered.

“Don’t be a smartass,” Joel gritted through his teeth, “who you travelin’ with?”

“No one,” the man’s eyes never left Joel, “I live at a farm about a mile away.”

“Take me to it.”

The man walked with a limp Joel noticed. It was barely there, you wouldn’t see it if you didn’t pay attention, but it was there. The man acted tough enough, but his body revealed his weaknesses. It would be easy to kill him, Joel thought, if it came to that.

He followed the man through the trees with his gun pointed at his back. When they reached the end of the forest a clearing revealed itself. They followed a path through a field of, tall but wilted, brown grass until they reached an overgrown gravel road with a fence running along it. Looking out in the distance, Joel could see small spots of white and black wool. The gravel moaned under their feet as they closed in on a small farm. A two-story house sat in the middle of the barnyard where it was surrounded by a barn who’d seen better days, a silo, and a smaller farmhouse – a stable – Joel noticed as they walked closer.

The man trudged up the front stairs of the main farmhouse, a hand on the handrail keeping him steady.

“Put that gun away would you, son? I don’t want you frightening my wife.” The man broke the silence between them, speaking for the first time since they left the woods.

Joel’s grip on his shotgun didn’t loosen. How could he be sure that this man’s ‘wife’ wasn’t some gang of raiders hiding behind the front door? A question he asked the man through gritted teeth when he turned around to look at Joel.

“There’s nothing of the sort around here,” the man said, “we don’t even see any infected.”

When Joel didn’t say anything, and didn’t lower the gun, the man spoke again, “Who are you?”

“Just someone passin’ through,” Joel answered, making the man chuckle.

“You’re something else, passer-througher,” the old man smiled before he turned around again and stepped inside, leaving Joel on the porch alone.

Abandoned outside he lowered his gun slightly. Inside he could hear muffled voices, a deeper one, definitely the old man, and a brighter one, a woman’s voice. He listened, trying to make out their words with no prevail. The man seemed to have spoken the truth up until now. He most definitely lived on this farm – a seemingly normal farm. This man was just someone making an honest living – even after the apocalypse.

Lowering the gun completely, Joel put the safety on before he slung it over his shoulder. Taking a hollowed step towards the front door, movement in the window to the right of him caught his eye. It was there and then it was gone – just a ruffle of blonde curtains. Then, the door opened revealing an elderly woman.

The man’s wife.

“Welcome, traveler,” she greeted, stepping aside to let Joel in.

He passed through the doorway with a “Thank you, ma’am,” never forgetting his manners even after pointing a gun at her husband.

Inside it looked like a picture taken straight out of a Homes & Gardens magazine. The house was cozy, but it was small. He’d been welcomed into what probably used to be a parlor, but now served its purpose as their living room. It was hard to get a read on the house. Not like those open-floor plan houses he’d built too many of back before the outbreak – this was old, maybe hundreds of years old. The floorboard creaked under his shoes as he walked deeper into the living room, the rest of the house locked away like a secret behind three closed doors. The man was seated in a lounge chair by the fireplace, watching Joel with an expression Joel found it hard to decipher.

“Would you like some tea?” the woman asked, “It’s peppermint from our garden.”

Joel turned his head to the woman. She must be around the same age as the old man, Joel thought. He cleared his throat before he answered with a nod, “Thank you, ma’am.”

She pointed to the sofa, urging him to sit down with a smile before she disappeared through one of the doors to what Joel thought must be the kitchen. He felt the old man watching him as he slid his backpack off his shoulders, placing it on the creaky wooden floor behind the sofa. Joel hesitated for just a second when placing the shotgun up against the back, but decided he wasn’t in any imminent danger.

Joel almost groaned as he sat down. He’d been walking for so long, slept on the hard ground for months, he’d almost forgotten what a comfortable chair was. It almost felt surreal, being invited in for tea, like the outbreak had never happened. Here, it was like the time had stood still.

“So,” the man started, “where are you heading to if you’re just ‘passin’ through’?”

Joel cleared his throat again, “I’m lookin’ for my brother,” he answered truthfully, “last I heard he was somewhere in Wyoming.”

“If you’re going to Wyoming, then what you’re doing all the way up here?” The man queried with a chuckle.

Annoyed, Joel grinded his teeth, “Not many signs in the fuckin’ woods are there?” He huffed.

“I guess not,” the man shrugged, “but you’ve made a heck of a detour… where did you come from? Texas? You sound it.”

“Boston.”

“Boston?” the man didn’t hide his surprise, breathing out chuckles in disbelief, “I’ll give it to you, that’s one long trip.”

Joel only huffed in agreement, turning his head from the man to the window overlooking the barnyard.

“Well,” the man broke the growing silence between the two men, “you’re more than welcome to stay for dinner and for the night– you look like you could need a hot meal and a warm bed.”

Joel’s instinct was to say no, but before he could the front door opened, revealing a young woman. You.

You stopped dead in your tracks as you laid your eyes on Joel, “Oh!”.

The door slammed behind you. Under your arm you were carrying a metal bucket filled with apples. You were beautiful, young, but still beautiful – Joel couldn’t deny it.

“This is…” The man paused.

“Joel.” He cleared his throat, introducing himself, “Joel Miller.”

“Mr. Miller is just passing through– he’s looking for his brother,” the old man explained to you.

You nodded at the information, sat the bucket down before you reached out a hand for Joel to take, introducing yourself. Your hand in his was warm and soft while his own dwarfed yours, rough and calloused. He couldn’t help but think about what his hands had done, the people they’d killed. He shouldn’t be tainting yours, painting them red. Joel quickly drew his hand back, balling it into a fist at his side.

Joel looked over at the old man, “Your daughter?” he asked with a tilt of his head in your direction.

“Oh, no,” the man answered with a playful smile, “You’re not the first person ‘passin’ through’ who’s shown up on our doorstep.”

The door to the kitchen opened to reveal the old woman with a teapot in her hand, and a stacked tower of teacups in the other.

“Let me help you Alma,” you said, taking the teacups from the old woman’s hand before placing them on the table; one in front of Joel, a second in front of the old man, “Here you go Arthur,” and a third next to Joel.

“Did you also want some tea, sweetie?” Alma asked you as she placed the steaming teapot on the table.

“Yes, please, but I can grab a cup myself– sit down,” you smiled and padded the old woman’s shoulder, then you grabbed the bucket of apples and disappeared into the kitchen.

Alma started pouring the tea as a silence fell over the room. A small, “Thank you, ma’am,” left Joel’s lips as she moved on to pouring tea for her husband.

“So,” the man started before taking a sip of his tea, “what do you say Mr. Miller? You staying for the night?”

That night as he laid in a real bed for the first time in months, Joel had trouble falling asleep. He wasn’t used to this. Hadn’t been used to it for a while. His belly full, soft fabric against his skin, feeling warm, and clean. The old couple had offered him one of the two bedrooms on the first floor, the two mystery doors in the living room now revealed. Laying in his new bed he tried not to think about who he was sharing a wall with.

You.

You were something else, helpful and kind. Everything Joel hadn’t seen since the outbreak. At the dinner table you’d asked him questions and listened intently – even when his answers were short and brisk. There was a glimmer in your eye, and it touched something inside him he hadn’t felt in a long time. But you were young, mid to late twenties he reckoned, maybe a little older– anyways, he shouldn’t be harboring anything for you, it wouldn’t be right. Especially now, now that he’d agreed to stay.

After the dinner plates had been cleared, Arthur had folded a big map out on the table. “Here are we now,” he’d pointed a finger at the map. Montana. Southern Montana to be precise. “I’ll give it to you Mr. Miller, if you’ve made it this far on your own you probably won’t have any trouble making your way down south to Wyoming.”

“But?” Joel watched the grimace pulling at the old man’s face.

“But,” Arthur had said, “Winter is just around the corner and… well, going back out there in the wilderness alone during our winters is a dead trap, I’ll tell you that much.”

Joel had let the man go on about the far below freezing temperatures, the heavy snow, and the tough wind, but Joel wasn’t stupid. He knew the winters up here were harsh. It wasn’t even winter yet, but every day he’d felt the temperature drop lower and lower, and the last few of nights he’d even had to get a fire going, against his better judgement.

So– the deal was: Joel would stay over the winter. Just for the winter, he’d been adamant on not staying longer. He’d get a place to stay, a warm bed to sleep in, and food in his belly on one condition – he’d help out on the farm.

The fire crackled loudly, red tongues licking up the chimney as Joel fed it another log. He watched as the fire caught in the new log, devouring it quickly and with no mercy. It was really starting to heat up now. A small flicker of pride sparked in Joel chest. He’d always been good at building a fire. It was one of those things, Joel had come to learn, where you needed to pay attention, to have patience.

When he was younger, he’d take Tommy out camping sometimes, just the two of them. Mostly they’d go during the summer; Tommy wasn’t a fan of sleeping outside in the cold, though cold had meant something different back then in Texas. But Joel remembered one time he’d managed to convince him to go with him. It was right after he’d gotten his driver’s license, and his parents had given him a beat-up truck for his birthday – for sharing – they’d told him, “You need to give your little brother a ride when he needs it!” Joel wasn’t exactly thrilled about his future as Tommy’s private driver, but it didn’t mean he didn’t love his brother.

A few weeks into October he’d managed to convince Tommy to go camping. They’d packed the truck with their tents, sleeping bags, and fishing equipment, before they’d gotten on the road, driving to a lake where they knew there were fish to catch. Finding a place to camp was always difficult with Tommy. They’d parked Joel’s truck at the edge of the forest before they’d followed a hiking trail. Joel was convinced they’d walked at least three quarters of the way around the lake before they found a spot good enough for Tommy.

It had to be flat, but also shielded. There couldn’t be too many rocks, but there also had to be enough rocks to build a hearth. Tommy wanted it to be private, but he also wanted it to be open enough that he could see if someone would stumble upon their camp. Joel knew not to argue with him when he got like that, opting instead for a defeated, “Whatever.”

Setting up camp went relatively easy. They’d worked together building the tents, collecting rocks for their fireplace, and even managed to find a fallen tree to use as a bench. When the night slowly started to cover them in darkness, Tommy decided to get the fire going. Joel watched him work the logs into a pile as he started on filleting the fish they’d just caught.

“You’re doin’ it wrong,” he’d told his brother, “You’re suffocatin’ it.” He’d washed his hands in the lake, ridding himself of the slimy smell of fish, before crouching down next to Tommy.

The fire was one big bowl of smoke, and Joel caught himself wondering what messages Tommy must’ve been sending to the heavens. He removed some of the heavier logs, and the fire could breathe.

“See?” he’d looked at Tommy, “It just needed air.” Joel had shifted the smaller pieces of wood around and not long after the fire was alive.

That Joel, that green boy who liked to take his little brother camping, that Joel didn’t know how much those skills would come in handy in a few years when the world would get turned upside down.

“Do you have any mittens, Joel?”

Your question pulled Joel from his memories. He turned his head slightly, meeting your gaze from where you were huddled up in the corner of the couch. You looked cozy, but he knew you weren’t. The house was cold this morning, outside a thin layer of frost had stuck to the grass during the night. It was early too, the sun not having climbed high enough yet to peek over the mountains. You looked tired where you sat, clad in a wool sweater with a blanket pulled over your knees. Under the blanket Joel remembered you were still wearing your pajama pants, and in your hand you held a steaming cup of tea, peppermint, Joel knew, his own cup abandoned on the coffee table.

“What?” Joel answered, eyebrows furrowed.

“Do you have any mittens, Joel?” you repeated softly, like the way people tended to speak in the mornings, like they were afraid they’d wake up the world.

His calves were starting to burn from the strain of being crouched in front of the fireplace for a moment too long, and he tried his best to hide his groan, biting his teeth together as he stood to his feet, knees cracking loudly.

“Um, no,” he said, confused about your question.

“I’ll knit you a pair then,” you smiled before putting your cup down next to his.

“That’s… that ain’t necessary,” Joel hurried, but you waved him off.

“Sure it is,” you smiled again, much to Joel’s annoyance. He didn’t deserve your kindness, but you gave it away like it cost nothing. “If you’re gonna be helping Arthur out in the woods this winter, you need some mittens.”

Joel watched as you got up from your home on the couch and vanished into your bedroom. A moment later you appeared in the doorway with a basket under your arm.

“Also…” you gave him another smile as you sat back down again, placing the basket in your lap. It was close to overflowing with yarn, balls of black and white in varying sizes peeking over the top, the homespun ends fraying against the rough edges of the basket. “I’ll have something to do during the evenings,” you winked before you rummaged through the basket and fished out a measuring tape.

Joel shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he watched you. Mittens? Joel can’t remember if he’s ever owned a pair of mittens. Gloves, sure, but mittens?

You patted the cushion next to you, urging him to sit down, kind smile hanging off your lips like always. Sitting down, he folded his hands in his lap, suddenly very aware of how close you were sitting. It wasn’t like he hadn’t sat next to you before; he’d been here a few weeks now, and he was starting to know you, but for some reason, this felt different. Maybe it was the early morning, the quiet house, or the fact that Alma and Arthur were still sleeping upstairs, but it felt like it was just the two of you, alone, and Joel didn’t know how to feel about it.

You shifted towards him, the blanket slipping slightly off the couch with your movement, in your hands you held the measuring tape while you looked at him expectantly.

When Joel didn’t move, a smile quirked at the corner of your mouth before you grabbed one of his hands resting in his lap. You uncurled his fingers slowly, one by one, making Joel hold his breath.

“I need to see how big I need to make them,” you whispered, holding his hand very gently.

Joel’s heart hammered in his chest. Your hand was warm and soft, like the last time he’d touched you as you’d introduced yourself to him. Joel didn’t dare look at your face, or he’d say something stupid, so he didn’t. He looked at your joined hands, his brain trying to remember the last time someone had held his hand as gently as you did, your thumb running over the back of it soothingly.

He can’t remember. His hands are always empty.

With your other hand, a finger curled around the measuring tape, you slipped it around his wrist before leaning closer to look at the numbers.

“Is this too tight you think, or do you want them to be looser?” You asked through your lashes, eyes sparkling in the low morning light.

Joel cleared his throat, “No, that’s fine.”

“Okay,” you nodded, slipping the measuring tape from his wrist to write down the measurement. He hadn’t noticed your notebook until now. It was a little rough around the edges from use, the spined cracked and the paper a little yellow. Placing the pen in the seam, you grabbed the measuring tape again.

Loosening your grip on his hand you placed it over the thick of your thigh. Joel drew a quick breath, his heartbeat hammering in his ears, under his hand he could feel the warmth of you through the soft flannel.

You continued taking your measurements. You didn’t say anything, so neither did Joel, but you looked up at him through your lashes sometimes, and Joel thought that maybe the most useful thing one can do with empty hands, is hold on.

The creak of the stair made Joel jump, and like he’d been burned his hand retracted on reflex, as Arthur’s heavy steps got closer.

“Morning,” Arthur greeted as he ducked his head through the door to the living room.

“Mornin’,” Joel mumbled, head lowered as he gathered his hands in his lap.

“Good morning!” you smiled, always with that kind smile, “Did you sleep well, Arthur?” you got up from your seat before grabbing your teacup to follow Arthur into the kitchen, leaving the yarn and Joel.

Taking a deep breath, Joel pinched the top of his nose. He needed to get it together. You were just being your regular kind self; your soft touch was nothing more than that. Standing to his feet, Joel grabbed his own cup, trudging into the kitchen.

In the kitchen Arthur sat in his usual spot at the dining table, the chair closest to the window. “I need to get on with this barn soon,” Joel heard him say as he sat down opposite him. “It’s gonna fall apart come spring if we get as much snow as we did last year.”

Joel tried his best not to look at you as he heard you hum. You were stood at the kitchen counter slicing the bread Alma had baked yesterday, readying breakfast. Instead, Joel opted to gaze down into his teacup, where the peppermint leaves had all gathered at the bottom.

“Um,” Joel cleared his throat, “what needs fixin’?”

“What doesn’t need fixing in that barn?” Arthur sighed, peeling his eyes from out the window to Joel.

“I can uh,” Joel eyes shifted quickly to you before he cleared his throat again, “I can take a look at it, if ya want?”

Arthur’s eyebrows met in a furrow as he looked at Joel.

“I used to be a contractor,” Joel explained with a shrug, before taking a last cold sip of his tea.

“So, you know a thing or two about buildings I reckon?” Arthur asked.

“Yeah, well I used to,” Joel leaned back in his chair.

“Well, that would be very helpful Joel– I’d appreciated it!” Arthur smiled before leaning back in his chair making room for you as you started setting the table. Joel gave him a short nod in return, trying to fight the urge to look at you as you placed the food on the table.

Arthur had downplayed the state of the barn – it was a mess – it was dangerous, and had Joel told him as much. But it was nothing Joel couldn’t fix, as long as he had the right supplies, fortunately for him the forest would provide them with what they needed.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

The axe dug a deep wound into the bark with every swing. Joel’s breath was heavy, and his arms ached, but it was a welcomed form of tiredness. A month into it, he was starting to get used to the work. There was something so satisfying about manual labor, of using his hands, of making something – he’d almost forgotten.

The routine of the work felt good. Waking up at dawn, then breakfast, he could use his body for something useful for the first time in twenty years and end the day with a warm meal for supper. This new temporary life was simple, but it was strangely normal.

Originally, Joel was only helping Arthur out in the woods for firewood through the winter– but now with the barn, they’d changed course. The last few days they’d started to become more selective with the trees; looking for the tallest and straightest ones that would fall safely.

A frozen sky hovered over the men as they worked. This morning when Joel had woken up, the thinnest layer of snow had fallen like powdered sugar during the night, turning the world bright with winter. Earlier in the week the frost had perched on the farm, and Joel had known winter was closing in. He’d lost count of the days and months passing while on his own, but Arthur had told him it was late October.

“It will start snowing properly soon,” Arthur said, breaking the silence between them.

Joel hummed before taking a bite of his packed lunch. They’d worked all morning – Joel felling the trees and Arthur cleaning them up and removing the branches. Now they were sat on a fresh tree stump each, their first break of the day.

“I have an old logging sled in the barn– used to be my father’s,” Arthur explained, “I think we should leave the trees here until the snow gets deep enough for the sled and have the horses pull them back to the farm.”

“Fine by me,” Joel took another bite of his lunch.

“The logs will have to dry out over the winter,” Arthur mused, “Then come spring we can start the repairs on the barn.”

Spring. If everything goes according to plan, Joel won’t be here come spring. He needed to find Tommy– he couldn’t, and he wasn’t gonna stay on the farm for any longer than necessary. He’d already decided– when the snow finally started to melt, Joel was gone.

Joel hummed, a non-committed answer. It was easier that way, to not get Arthur’s hopes up. He liked Arthur, he was a good man, a hard worker even in his old age, and silent when Joel wanted him to be. Joel liked Alma too, but her age shined through more easily than Arthur’s. Joel couldn’t help but notice her repeating herself more often and forgetting where she put things. It made life harder for you, Joel could see it. Your responsibilities were already a lot to handle as you took care of the animals mostly by yourself, but as Joel had discovered Alma starting to struggle with the housework, he’d noticed you starting to help her more often. In Joel’s mind it was unfair to you, but it wasn’t like he could blame Alma for growing older, in this world it was a feat.

Still, he’d try his best to help you when he could, like doing the dishes after dinner as you dried them off and put them away. The first few times you were both quiet, it was strangely intimate, only the sound of splashing water filling the space between you. One night he'd gotten brave, breaking the comfortable silence and asked you ‘What you thinkin’ about, sweetheart?’ You’d looked at him with big eyes, searching his own for something, but before he could figure out what it was, you’d answered him with a shrug. It was unlike you, unlike you to be this silent, but Joel didn’t push. The next night the silence persisted, and he’d thought adding ‘Sweetheart’ had been too much, but then the next night you’d sighed quietly and whispered, “I’m worried about Alma.”

Looking down at the mittens in his lap, the guilt gnawed at him. The look of worry in your eyes, Arthur’s hopeful wishes, and Alma’s aging. Joel couldn’t have anything tying him to this place. He was supposed to find his brother.

Suddenly, a black and orange butterfly landed on Joel’s knee. Joel stopped breathing, body going rigid as he tried not to move. How the hell was this butterfly still alive? It sat quiet on his knee, wings slowly retracting and widening behind it. Memories pushed its way to the forefront of Joel’s mind then.

Sarah. Another year had gone by, and the thought made his chest tighten.

“That’s quite a sight at this time of year,” he heard Arthur say, “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Y-yeah,” Joel stammered out an answer, afraid his voice would scare it away.

The longer Joel watched the butterfly he found his guilt started to slowly melt away. It’s okay, dad. It was like the rustling of the trees carried her voice with them. You’re on the right path.

“I can do that f’you want, sweetheart.”

Joel’s boots creaked under him as he walked across the barnyard. You looked up at the sound of his voice, smile blossoming across your face as you tightened your grip on the shovel.

“It’s alright,” you said with a grunt as you picked up more snow, adding it to the growing pile, “Good for me to get some physical work in.”

Joel nodded as you straightened up, hand going to your hip while the other leaned on the shovel, your heavy breath curled in small plumes out of your mouth. You took him in for a second, eyes flickering over his form before they fell on the rabbits hanging over Joel’s shoulder.

“Where’d you get those?” you asked, and Joel shrugged.

“Shot ‘em,” he said simply, “they walked right by me as I was choppin’– seemed too good to pass up.”

“Not for the rabbits,” you muttered, and Joel had to fight the urge to smile.

“You a vegetarian or somethin’?” he asked with a single raised eyebrow, and you waved him off.

“No,” you said pointedly, but a teasing lilt lingered, “Just stating a fact... we don’t eat a lot of rabbit around here, is all.”

Joel nodded slightly; it made sense. He knew there was a gun in the house, but it was a revolver– too small to do any real hunting, and Joel didn’t even know if there were bullets for it. So, Joel didn't ask further. Lucky for him, you did.

“So, you just shot those?” you asked, a frown pulling at your eyebrows, “Aren’t they fast?”

Joel made a nonchalant sort of face. “Ain’t that hard when you can aim straight.”

“Well, how do you aim straight?”

“You learn to shoot.”

You let out a small laugh, one that pulled at Joel’s lips. “And how did you go about learning that?”

Joel felt his smile drop, the leather strap of his shotgun weighing heavy on his shoulder, “Practice.”

You didn’t seem to notice the change in his demeanor as you dug the shovel into the snow, so it stood by itself like a watchman. “Can you teach me?” you asked, the snow creaking under your shoes as you took a few steps closer.

His lips pulled at the corner, “No.”

Your eyes widened with disappointment, eyebrows pulling together in a frown as you asked, “Why?”

“Nothin’ good ever comes from it,” Joel shrugged.

“Okay,” you huffed a laugh, “that’s sinister.” Then you narrowed your eyes at him, gearing up for an argument no doubt with the way you rested your hand on your hip. “What if I also wanted to go hunting?” you posed, and Joel shook his head.

“That ain’t happenin’, sweetheart.”

“Okay, but now you’ve brought us rabbits– and what if I end up really liking rabbit?” you bit down on your bottom lip, unconsciously showing off you own rabbit teeth.

Cute.

“Then I’ll shoot as many rabbits as you want,” Joel countered with a teasing smile before tightening his hold on the rope slung over his other shoulder (the one he’d tied the rabbits to), and walked towards the kitchen door at the back of the farmhouse.

He heard you huff in defeat behind him, your creaky steps following him up the stairs and inside. Walking into the kitchen Joel placed the rabbits on the table before he pulled at his mittens, stripped off his jacket, and hung it neatly over the back of one of the dining chairs. Grabbing one of the rabbits he brought it to the kitchen counter to start dressing it, fighting the urge to turn his head as he heard you enter the room.

“Come on, Joel,” you whined, “Why won’t you teach me?”

“Told you already,” Joel replied, “Nothin’ good comes from learnin’ to shoot things.”

Shifting the rabbit around on the counter he reached for the butcher knife in the knife block.

“You know, that’s a really stupid way of saying you don’t want to spend the time,” you told him, your voice closer now as you leaned against the kitchen counter.

“When exactly did ya hear me sayin’ I don't wanna spend time with you?” Joel asked, his eyebrows pulled together in a frown.

“You won’t teach me to shoot,” you teased, and Joel could hear the smile in your voice.

Joel huffed out a laugh, “Damn right I won’t.”

He heard you let out a whiney huff, before you turned on your heel, muttering out a curse under your breath when you accidently bumped your hip into the counter and Joel couldn’t help the smile teasing at his lips. You sat down with an overdramatic sigh, and Joel still didn’t look at you – he knew he’d cave eventually if he did, say yes against his better judgement – so he kept his eyes on the knife in his hand.

“How’s Arthur?” Joel asked as he worked.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, “The same I think– Alma was up there looking after him last time I checked.”

This time Joel allowed himself to look at you. You sat sideways on the wooden chair, legs crossed and tucked under your chair with your head hanging, eyes glued to your lap. Gone were the teasing, and gone were the smiles.

“He’ll be fine,” Joel said, his eyes back on the rabbit, “it’s just a cold.”

“Yeah… but he’s been getting sick a lot more often,” your voice was low, like you didn’t want them to hear you upstairs, “you can’t help but think the worst you know?”

Joel put the knife down and moved over to the sink. He quickly washed his hands before grabbing a towel to dry off, twisting it in his hands as he approached you. Placing the towel on the counter, he hesitated for a moment as he watched you, watched the way you twisted your hands in your lap with no sense of purpose or intent. It was like the worry dripped down your body. Pushing off the counter Joel knelt in front of you, a grunt escaped him as his knees clicked loudly, his balance slightly off on his haunches.

“Shit,” Joel huffed out a laugh, and you followed. Your palms landed on his knees to keep him steady, warmth spreading like jolting electricity.

“Sweetheart, I’ll tell you what–” he stopped himself when you looked at him through your lashes, trying to ignore the way your eyes focused on his mouth as he spoke. “’s just a cold, he’ll be up ‘n walkin’ tomorrow– man’s got gumption.”

“Yeah?” your eyes flickered upwards, meeting his.

Suddenly, under your gaze Joel felt brave. His hand moved on its own accord, cupping your cheek in his hand. He let his thumb ghost over your skin, still cold under his fingertips from being outside, but warming under his touch.

“Yeah, sweetheart.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, you only watched him with glimmering eyes, like you were under a spell. Maybe he was too.

“Still,” you sighed, “Would be better if I could pick up more of the slack around here... Arthur does a lot, and I wish I could do more to support them.”

“Like what? You take care of the animals all by yourself– that’s more than enough.”

“Well, I could learn to shoot rabbits,” you told him, before the corners of your mouth pulled into a pleased smirk as he rolled his eyes at you.

Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away, making a move to stand when you grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“I’m kidding, Joel,” you smiled, before a more serious look washed over your features. “I mean it’s… It’s gonna be empty here without you,” you said, “I’m starting to really like having you here, Joel.”

Joel turned his hand to rest the back of it on your thigh, your hand fitting in his.

“I uh,” his eyes fixated on your joined hands, then he cleared his throat, “I’ll stay as long as you need me to. I’m not leavin’ you alone, sweetheart.”

Your eyes lit up at his words, smile growing large across your face. Joel’s heart drummed in his chest as your eyes flickered down to his mouth again.

“Thank you,” you said in a low voice, and then you did something Joel thought was gonna make his heart stop beating. You leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. It bloomed against his skin, and made wings flutter against the walls of his stomach.

“You’re a good man, Joel Miller,” you whispered before you pulled away, looking at him with kindness in your eyes.

If only you knew, Joel thought, if only you knew the blood on his hands.

He couldn’t look at you when you looked at him like that. Like you believed your own words. So, he cleared his throat awkwardly and stood to his feet, his knees clicking as your hand slipped from his movement. He walked back to the counter, fingers grabbing the towel with no other purpose than to calm himself down.

After placing the towel back where it usually hung, he grabbed the knife again, turning his attention back to the rabbit, allowing himself to steal a few glances at you where you sat looking out the kitchen window.

“Hey, uh,” Joel broke the growing silence after a few minutes, “how ‘bout rabbit stew for lunch?”

Your head snapped to look at him as he spoke, a smile ghosting over your lips as you said, “I’ll go get some vegetables from the cellar.”

Joel wouldn’t necessarily call himself a good cook – he wouldn’t even call himself a cook in the first place. Back before the outbreak he’d been forced to learn the basics as a fresh single dad, but he’d never been able to provide Sarah with gourmet meals very often, and when Sarah had gotten older, he’d been embarrassed to say that her food was always better than his – eggshells and all. One summer he’d bought himself a nice grill– one of those way too expensive gas grills with too many fancy accessories for Joel to regularly use. He’d had a job that ended up paying well, some rich guy’s mansion that needed renovating, and decided to treat himself for once. That summer all their meals had come from that grill, well mostly, and afterwards Joel looked at himself as a pretty good griller, if nothing else.

You on the other hand, you knew what you were doing, it was clear in the effortlessly way you moved beside him as you got the vegetables ready for the stew. Joel seared the meat to the best of his abilities, making sure it was properly browned on both sides before setting it aside. After that, it was clear that you were in charge, and Joel let you boss him around and tell him what to do. It made his heart warm around the edges, watching how you put so much love and care into everything you did.

An hour later you finally sat down to eat; two hearty bowls of stew each as light snowflakes covered the world outside. You’d let the pot simmer on low over the heat as you’d wanted to bring up a bowl for Arthur and Alma later.

“So…” you started, watching as Joel dug into his bowl, “How’s the stew?”

“’s good!” Joel nodded through a mouthful, and he wasn’t lying. It was good, really good in fact.

“Yeah?” you bubbled through a smile, before you dug into your own bowl to see if he’d spoken the truth. He watched as you face brightened as you chewed, nodding your head to confirm his verdict.

“I think I really like rabbit, Joel,” you said through a teasing smile, and Joel couldn’t fight the chuckle from spilling.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, teasing smile not going anywhere, “So… when are you teaching me to shoot?”

“Shut up.”

The living room was quiet, safe for the cracking of the fire. It had almost died out when Joel had stepped out of his room. He’d been twisting and turning again, counting sheep, but nothing had been able to pull him under the blanket of sleep. He was plumb tired too, that was the worst part. The embers hummed with a low light, and with a small stick Joel had spread them out before placing a small piece of wood on top. No less than a minute later the fire fed on the log.

Taking a seat and leaning back in the lounge chair, Joel looked out the window with tired eyes. The moon looked down on him, big and bright, it shone its white light over the barnyard like a spotlight. His thoughts were clouded over as he gazed up. A billion little lights turning into bright spheres in the sky.

On nights like this, Joel felt like he was barely breathing at all.

His thoughts didn’t stray for long before they found you again. Lately, you were always on his mind. He thought about how you’d looked mere hours ago, when he’d sat in this same exact chair, only this time it was facing towards the sofa and not the window.

You’d been sat curled up in the corner, blanket thrown over your lap with a book in hand. You’d told him you’d read all the books in the house already, but it didn’t stop you from coming back to your favorites. Joel had been reading his own book, an old western he’d found in the bookshelf in the upstairs hallway a few days ago. It was entertaining, but not enough to hold his attention. He found his eyes had a mind of their own, slipping over the top to steal a peek at you as you read, feeling a smile tug at his lips at the barely there furrow of concentration between your eyebrows.

“Joel.”

Joel perked up at the whisper of his name, the memories fading like ripples in still water. He looked around the room –nothing. He sat quietly in his chair for a moment, listening, as his heartbeat quickened in his chest. It had been your voice, hadn’t it? Or was he starting to lose it? His eyes fell to the door of your bedroom. He hadn’t noticed it until now, but he could see it was slightly ajar.

“Joel.”

The voice was louder this time, almost strained, but it was yours. A thousand scenarios flashed before his eyes then at your tone. Was there someone in your room? Were you in danger? Seconds later Joel crossed the room, a mix of fear and protectiveness overcoming him.

Leaning up against your door he listened for the intruder as he readied himself. The soft crinkling of your sheets combined with your strained whimpers was all it took for him to push the door open, fearing the worst.

And…

It was empty, your room, you were alone. Joel immediately felt stupid– the only intruder here was him.

He was about to step out, embarrassed at his actions, when he heard it again, his name falling from your lips. It was all Joel needed to finally take in your body, squirming under your sheets, still asleep. The realization of what he’d just walked in on made Joel’s eyes widen.

Laying on your back, the duvet had slipped down your torso from your movements to reveal the thin t-shirt you wore to bed. Like this he could see your perked nipples through the fabric, as your chest quickly rose and fell, making Joel’s imagination start to run wild.

“Joel.”

In his pajama pants, Joel could feel his cock come alive from the soft whimper that left your lips along with his name. He couldn’t move, like some farm elf had glued his feet to the floor while he wasn’t looking. He watched as you scrunched your face together in pleasure, another whimper falling from your lips, and all the blood in Joel’s body rushed down south.

As if the soundwaves from your voice had broken against him, he took a step backwards, and then another, and another until he crossed the threshold of your door. He tried his best to be quiet, to not wake you and have you catch him in your room in the middle of the night.

The image of you squirming under your sheets, dreaming of him, didn’t leave him as he closed the door to his own room. With a sigh his head fell against the door, a strong hand gliding down his front to hover over his aching cock.

Joel Miller was no saint, but what he was doing– what he was about to do, was bad.

“Shit,” he quietly hissed, running his hand up his clothed cock. He hadn’t touched himself properly in a long time, not since he left Boston.

His cock reacted to his touch, growing harder and harder until he couldn’t take it anymore. He hooked his finger around the hem of his pajama pants, pulling them down to the thick of his thigh, freeing himself. He hissed at the cold air hitting his length, as it bopped with the movement of being freed. Bringing his hand to his mouth, Joel spat, before he wrapped his spit-soaked hand around himself.

His mind found you again as he started stroking himself, slowly at first, pumping himself with a practiced hand, squeezing himself at the base before bringing his hand up to thumb at the tip. Joel couldn’t get the way you sounded out of his mind. Couldn’t forget how you were squirming in your bed, dreaming of him. Couldn’t shake the thought of pulling those moans and whimpers from you with his hands, and his mouth, and with his cock.

“Fuck.”

Joel tried to be quiet, but he couldn’t fight the moan from slipping from his lips. Fuck, he wanted you. He wanted his hands all over you. Closing his eyes his mouth dropped open as he imagined what he was dying to do to you.

How much he’d wanted to help you out of your t-shirt, run his hands over your breasts and tease your nipples. Take his time to pull those moans and whimpers from your soft lips as he teased you with kisses down your body, down the valley of your breasts, your tummy, down to you to your–

Another low moan fell from Joel’s lips. He squeezed himself tighter as he jerked himself off, precum pearling at the tip, and slipping down his length, mixing with his spit.

The sound of the slick rhythm of his hand filled his bedroom as he increased the pace of his strokes. He had to bite down on his lip to strangle a groan when thoughts of getting between your legs, spreading them open and getting his mouth on you filled his head. He fantasized about how you’d taste falling apart on his tongue–Fuck, how you’d sound falling apart around his cock.

His eyes fell shut as he fisted himself faster. Joel could feel his orgasm quickly building, coiling tight in his tummy. With his free hand he cupped his balls, and then he couldn’t help but imagine it was you, a picture of you on your knees before him flashed behind his eyelids, your tongue lapping at his balls while your hand pumped his cock.

“Shit.”

With a strained groan, thick ropes of cum spilled over his knuckles and down his length, coating him in his release. His breath came out ragged, as he continued his strokes, milking himself of the rest of his release.

Fuck.

His cock softened in his hand as he calmed down from his high. With a quiet groan he pushed himself off the door, looking around his room for something to clean himself up with.

The guilt of what he’d done washed over him quickly, settling in his chest like a heavy weight. You were so young, and beautiful, and Joel just an old man. He shouldn’t want you like this, shouldn’t want you this much.

Climbing under the covers, Joel couldn’t shake his thoughts of you, of you dreaming about him in your bed, about your smiles, and your touch. A supercut of you rolling like a tape in his minds eye. A supercut of you bundled up under a blanket on the sofa, knitting him his mittens. Of you, your own knitted hat pulled tightly down over your ears as you stepped out into the snow to check on the animals. Of the way you’d looked at him for the first time, with the bucket of apples under your arm, and the sweet taste of them as you’d offered him one later, after dinner.

Finally, Joel could breathe.

next part -> here! i hope someone liked this? if you did a comment, reply or an ask is always welcome and they make me super happy <3 other than that thank you for reading!!

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erenjaegerwifee · 5 months ago

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✧₊⁺ Crushing pt 2

✨yall asked and shall receive! Here’s a part 2 of this drabble. I hope Yall like it! Don’t forget to like, comment and reblog!

✨Warnings: MDNI 18+, friends to lovers, belly bulge, fingering, p in v, neteyam writes on you

✨Word Count: 2.3k (this was supposed to be a drabble).

✨ all my characters are aged-up! If you’re uncomfortable please do not interact with my post.

“So y/n can I ask you something?” Neteyam mumbled as you both sat together eating some fruit he picked for you. It’s been a couple of weeks since he saw you wearing that his name on your back and since then he’s been easing you into the idea of spending time with him. He has successfully managed to make you set a couple hours just for him alone which makes him extremely happy.

“Go for it” you answered waiting for his question, “I saw an avatar the other day, he had a tattoo on his shoulder and it reminded me of the Metkayina when we went…I know it’s also a human thing, have you ever considered getting one?” Neteyam asked sweetly.

His ears twitched as he looked down at you sitting so cute and small on the log, he looked like a giant next to you, but that wasn’t something that bothered him anymore after he over heard Kiri and Lo’ak talking to you about like na’vi men. He knows he has a shot he just needs to act before someone else does.

“Oh yea I have a couple right now I was hoping to get some more, I like how they look I just can’t decide what to get” you chuckle. Your laugh was ever as beautiful but that’s not what caught his attention this time, how could he have not known u have tattoos already, all the man does in his spare time is look at you.

“You have? Since when?” He asked his tone was surprised, you expected it, no one besides the woman who gave you the tattoo knows you have them. It’s not a secret really but you just never thought anyone would care. You thought it was cute neteyam was so interested. “I got my first one when I was 19 and my second about 6-7 months ago. It just finished healing.”

You’ve had this tattoo for years? And he’s never seen them? How? “Can I see them?” He blurted out making you giggle, “I can’t show you out here silly”Oh so these are intimate tattoos, even better.

“I have one behind me ear and the other on my ribs” you gestured to the places with your hands as you finish eating the fruit. “I’ll show you, let’s go back to the lab” you jump off the log and Neteyam follows suit walking behind you.

When you arrive to the lab neteyam pushed the door open for you to walk in and you take your mask off and he grabs one throwing it around his neck. Neteyam followed you through the hallways bending down so he could fit, he looked cute crouched down like that.

You walk into your room and shut the door behind you, Neteyam naturally made his way to sit on your bed, it was a big bed he could fit there easily but it was low to the floor so when he sat down, he was almost at your height but not quite.

“Ok look” you walked up to him and stood were his knees were and pulled your hair over your shoulder pulling it back for him to see the cute atokirina behind your ear behind your ear lobe (I’ll put pics of the tattoos I imagine below) it was small he couldn’t see it probably from his far away you were.

Instinctively he put his large hands on your bicep and waist and pulled you closer slotting you in between his legs. His head moved closer to see you your tattoo and your felt his breath on your collarbone as he looked at it.

You’ve never been in this kind of compromising position before especially not with neteyam. It made you slick, you squeeze your thighs together hoping his amazing na’vi nose doesn’t pick up in the scent change.

“Atokirina…” he whispered next to your ear “Tsal lu yuey sìn nga” (it is beautiful on you) his voice made your shiver, you took a deep breathe trying to calm your raging hormones. Neteyam’s hand that was on your bicep now ran through your hair pushing it back more and brought his head down so his lips could touch your tattoo.

You gasped at the feeling of him kissing you there, it was always a sensitive spot for you. Your eyes shut as his tongue darts out to taste your skin, “taste like you..”

“Neteyam… it’s healed you wouldn’t taste the ink” your voice was breathy and your legs felt weak. It was only when he heard your voice he realized what he was doing to you and boy did he love these cute reactions, “where’s the other one?”

He pulled back his head and look at you, your face was slightly blushed and your lip was trapped between your teeth, “here…” you raised you r-shirt up to right under your bra pointing to the tattoos of the knife curved under your left breast with 2 feathers hanging off the handle.

Neteyam recognized that knife, it was the one you made go him when he passed his rites of passage at 15 years old. It was 10 years ago but he never changed that knife for anything. “my knife”

“Well yea I thought it fit nicely in the spo- what are you doing neteyam” his hands moved to the base of the t-shirt you were holding up and pulled it swiftly over your head exposing you in your bra and cute shorts. Your bra was a pretty baby pink with a bow in the center.

“Neteyam!” Your hands fly down to cover your bra, “mawey (calm), just want a better look.” He pulled your close by your arms that were crossed on your chest and then pushed them out of the way so he can see the tattoo. His head dipped examining the details that are his knife on your body.

His lips met the stop kissing it before darting his tongue out making you suck in a breath. “You look beautiful, so so pretty with these, you want more?” He asked you.

You nodded your head meekly at him trying to stop your panties from leaking. “Where?”

“M-my back maybe, my thighs” you said softly. He smiled, his head came back up holding his body up to his full height. Neteyam’s hands sat on your hips running up and down twisting your small frame in his hands. He loved the way his fingered unintentionally touching when it crawls up to your waist.

He has you so close to him, his scent invades your nose so you could imagine how strongly you must smell to him. “Tell me to stop?” You didn’t say anything. You didn’t want him to stop.

Neteyam kissed you softly on the lips, his finger tips squeezed your flesh as he ran his tongue over your bottom lip. His lips were so soft and tender. His mouth was much bigger than yours, his kiss progressively got more heated and his grip on your body got more intense.

You pulled away feeling Neteyam strain his body for air and brought the mask that hung on his chest up to his mouth. Neteyam took in a deep breath looking at you with his golden eyes. He is so fucking fine!

He pushed you aside and grabbed a dark blue permanent marker that sat in your desk. He pulled you onto his lap making sure you get comfortable before he leaned back against the wall next to your bed. “Gonna let me draw some tattoos on you baby? Want one here right?” His large hand slide up your thighs making you shiver and you nodded your head meekly.

Neteyam opened the marker and slipped his head to your neck sucking in your soft skin. Your human skin bruised so easily he absolutely loved how sucking on you for 3 seconds could turn you red.

Your eyes were closed as you took in the feeling of his tongue on your skin and his hand moving lightly with the cool marker pressed against your leg, you couldn’t see what he was writing so when he pulled away na moved the marker you looked down at your thigh. There in bold capital letters was NETEYAM on the entire length of your thigh.

The slight made you blush, is he staking claim? Is this some kind of ownership? Whatever it is you are loving every part of it. You don’t touch it not wanting to smear the writing but you glance up at him only to see him waiting for your reaction.

You lean forward and kiss him roughly on the lips. “Neteyam will you do something for me?” You pull away batting your eyes at him, “anything baby”

“Fuck me” your request caught him off guard but he proceeded anyways. He picked you up and laid you on the bed softly, he kneeled on the bed in front of you pulling off your shorts and underwear in one swift move. Neteyam laid on the bed next to you throwing your left leg over his thighs, and pushing your right up in the air spreading your legs. Neteyam observed your soaking folds gliding a finger through them collecting your slick.

He brought the finger up to his lips to taste you with a sweet hum he brought his finger back down to circle your clit. With another finger he slid into your weeping hole. You head your head on his shoulder as you watch his movements with him, his other arm was thrown over your shoulder keeping you close as he finger fucks you open.

Neteyam added another finger then another speeding up his pace until he was shaking your entire lower body, “Neteyamm AHH” you scream when you gush on his fingers. Your head was buried in his neck kissing his warm skin softly as he assaulted your cunt.

Neteyam pulls his fingers out licking them clean before be lays flat on his back and moves you to his lap, straddling his hips. “Now baby, where else do you wanna get a tattoo?” Your mind was woozy as you stared at him, you still felt the stretch of his fingers in your cunt. Your hands press onto his abdomen leaning forward, your hair fall in front of your body.

Neteyam wraps as arm around your back and with his fingers he unhooks your bra ad falls down your arms exposing you to him. Your tits bounce when they fall free and Neteyam’s eyes were glued to them. You took notice and guided his hands towards them so he can touch you.

You bit your lip feeling the way he tugged on your nipples. “I- uh, I think on my collarbone and my back, my legs, maybe right over here” you run your fingers over the side of your waist where it curves inward so perfectly. Neteyam didn’t waste a moment scrambling for the marker and pulling you close right his initials, ‘N.S.’ above your collarbone where your shoulder meets your neck.

Then he moved the marker down writing the nickname you call him ‘TEYAM’ vertically down the side of your abdomen. He dropped the mark after admiring his works and pulled you up to sit on his abdomen while he unties his loincloth. You drop your body down kissing his while he does, your breast press against his hard chest as you stick your tongue in his mouth fighting for dominance which he won. When you pull away a string of spit connect both your lips and he raised you up laying you on the bed and him on top of you.

Your body is dwarfed beneath his as he lines his cock up with your dripping slit and slowly push into you. This is the first time you’ve ever seen a cock so big you weren’t sure it was going to fit in you. As if he read your mind, he bent his body over so he face is in front of yours and kissed you, distracting you from the painful stretch.

You focus all your attention on the way his tongue moves so seamlessly with yours and you don’t even realize when he’s bottomed out inside you until you hear his grunt. “So tight baby, so fucking tight” Neteyam groaned, his head dropped down onto your shoulder and you wrap your legs around his sexy waist and locked them together.

Neteyam started moving slowly listening to your loud whimpers, you’ve never been so full before. “Tey, s-so full” he pulled his head up to look down at you admiring they blush that traveled down your hot skin. His eyes traveled down your body, watching the way your tits bounce with his every thrust making him speed up to see them bounce harder.

His faster pace made you tear up, your jaw was slack you couldn’t even form sounds because he was fucking you so good. Neteyam admired the writing he left on your skin, and his eyes made it to your tummy, your every full, bulging tummy. His eyes widen slightly as he watched the imprint of his huge cock moving in and out of you. When he bottoms out, his tip was right up to your belly button.

When you come on his cock your moan loudly and gush on him. Neteyam felt his entire cock get wetter in your snug cunt and his head dips down into your tits sucking on your nipples as he speeds up his thrust. He pulls out and lends back stroking his cock so he can cum on your body, “Fuck, fuck gonna cum on you baby” he whimpers as his cock shot up onto your breast and stomach.

Neteyam was panting as he dropped to the side of you looking at the mess he made of your body. He grabbed his discarded loincloth and whipped the cum down and off your body pulling you close to him, “You did so well for me baby, are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked his voice was concerned. “No, no it was amazing tey” you said in a weak voice.

“Hey baby, next time I see my name on you, want it to be permanent.” he kissed your neck wrapping his big arms around your body. And who were you to deny him what he wants?

Taglist:

@rivatar @xylianasblog @strongheartneteyam @delusionalwh6re @nilahsstuff @m1tsu-ki @kylimarz @quicktosimp @its-jennarose @r11k4 @xrollingmyeyesx

#neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam avatar #atwow neteyam #neteyam smut #neteyam talks #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam fic #avatar the way of water #neteyam x human reader #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam x human #neteyam x human girl #avatar neteyam #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x oc #neteyam x female reader smut

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harryslittlefreakk · 6 months ago

Text

favourite crime 2

summary: harry whisks y/n away for a romantic weekend, but when feelings and questions turn into actions, their relationship only gets more complicated

warnings: smut (protected sex, oral f receiving, choking, spanking, cockwarming) angst, mentions of cheating, forbidden love, age gap

wordcount: 7.3k

a/n: thank you SO much for all the love and feedback on the first part 🙈 i can’t cope. SORRY this took so long to post. please let me know if you enjoyed this one!!! love you <3

(as always it’s not proofread yet so proceed with caution)

special mention to this series’ biggest fan, my homegirl @harryscumcloth who has helped me with this a million times AND may have beat me if this wasn’t posted sooner <3

favourite crime masterlist | main masterlist | taglist

You were nestled in the corner of a quiet pub, worlds away from anyone who might recognise you or Harry, yet still almost jumping out of your skin when anyone met your eye. The armchair you were curled up in was rugged and worn, the padding molded to the shape of every person that had been there before you. Although not the venue you’d pick for a steamy weekend break, the B&B was cozy and welcoming, and somehow it felt even more romantic than a five-star sex hotel. The gentle murmur of distant conversations and the clinking of glasses pulled your attention away from your drink, your eyes scanning across the room until they landed on Harry’s.

Warm bulbs cast a dim glow over his face, the knit of his brows subtle as he stared at you, though he was clearly somewhere else. He’d been going crazy since he last saw you, the memories of the way he made you fall apart at the forefront of his mind. It fuelled a fire within him that his own fears kept putting out. He was burning then frozen, burning then frozen, over and over again.

You were young and needed to date properly, not be someone’s secret. And he couldn’t be your secret, wouldn’t allow himself to darken you with a warped and forbidden affair. But he couldn’t think of anything but you, the way your walls gripped at his fingers, the look in your eyes as he kissed you, the pink of your cheeks after you came. He was totally infatuated with you, yet he knew this was as far as anything could go.

You watched him for a while, waiting for him to speak up. The drive had been mostly quiet, neither of you knowing exactly how to express what you were thinking. Until Bonnie Raitt’s I Cant Make You Love Me came on the radio and two hands shot out to change the station. Harry’s eyes met yours for a second as his fingers wrapped around your wrist, a soft chuckle slipping out. He guided your hand to his thigh, his touch hovering until your thumb started to caress the fabric of his trousers.

“No sad songs in my car,” he teased, eyes fixed on the road. “Put one of your playlists on.”

You picked up your phone, momentarily feeling stupid and young as you scrolled through your Spotify. You had no idea what music Harry liked, and you weren’t about to embarrass yourself by displaying a horrific taste in music. He’d somehow noticed your internal panic, rolling his eyes in jest. “Just put on your on repeat. I wanna see what music you like,” he grinned.

You scrolled through your Spotify with a furrowed brow, your indecisive fingers hovering over the screen. a smirk playing on his lips, watched her struggle. "We’ll be there before you pick something.”

"It's important, Harry. I have to find a playlist that doesn’t have High School Musical in."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "For real?”

"Yes! What's wrong with that?" you laughed, pulling your hand away from his leg.

"Well, for a start," Harry began, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “You’re not twelve.”

Your cheeks flushed, but you couldn't help but giggle. "Hey, at least I have variety. You probably listen to dad rock and indie songs that you think will make girls fancy you.”

"Touché," he said, holding up a hand in surrender. "But at least I don’t have the music taste of a pre-teen.”

You rolled your eyes, finally settling on a song. As the first notes played, Harry groaned exaggeratedly. “Just because you have High School Musical in your playlist, doesn’t mean you should play it.”

You grinned, holding up your phone as a mock microphone. "Come on, admit it. You love it."

Harry shook his head, unable to keep a straight face. "You're impossible."

“You’re staring at me,” Harry said finally, pulling you from your daydream.

“You’ve been staring at me since we sat down,” you laughed. “I only looked just now.”

Harry smiled softly, patting his lap in a signal for you to cosy up to him. You stood up, quietly moving around the table, your eyes never leaving Harry.

He opened his arms as you approached, taking a hold of your hand as you settled onto his lap, curling up against him. Harry's arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, his thoughts momentarily forgotten. The comfort of the embrace was immediate, a perfect fit that seemed to melt away the distance that had separated you moments before.

You listened to the steady beat of his heart as Harry pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back.

“I know what you’re thinking, Harry,” you whispered, glancing down at your drink before meeting his gaze. His anguish was written all over his face, his confusion and indecisiveness seeping into the lines on his tanned skin. He leaned back into the seat, shifting you slightly so that he could see you clearly.

“What am I thinking, bunny?” he asked, his knuckles caressing your cheek.

“You’re thinking… that it’s for the best that nothing happens between us, but you still want it to.” You didn’t want to have the conversation so soon, but it was clearly troubling you both. Harry stayed silent, his dark eyes trained on your face as you fiddled with your straw.

“And you think this weekend should be the end of it,” you added, face hardening as you said it. He made a quiet murmur of agreement, brows knitting as if hearing the words out loud caused physical pain.

“I’ll follow your lead, H. If this is as far as we go, then I say we make it the best weekend ever,” you grinned, hoping that a twinkle cut through the sadness you could feel clouding your eyes.

Harry scanned your face for a second, searching for any sign of hesitance. But you were settled on your choice, your strong gaze giving him no indication of any deeper feelings. He pulled you closer to him after a moment, satisfied that you were on the same team.

To agree on the premature death of your relationship was a gut wrenching feeling, in the most peculiar way. You barely knew Harry outside of his time as your professor, and now you were wondering if he would end up as your one great love, the one big regret you’d have when you’re old and grey, or if he’d be the one who ruined you. You were almost certain it was the former, but it wasn’t the time to dwell on it.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders as you settled into his lap, with one final scan around the pub in case it was suddenly full of people you knew. Harry’s hand pressed against your cheek, turning your head until you faced him. His thumb dragged across your bottom lip, his lips parted just enough for you to see the white of his teeth as he stared at you.

It was the closest you’d been since you found yourself on his lap at the lake. Friday was your study day, your only lecture taught by a different professor, and you’d lost track of time and missed your grading session with Harry. The last you’d seen of him was as he drove away after dropping you home, your panties still dripping from the orgasm he’d given you.

The heat radiating off the wall of muscle grazing your chest had you burning up, your cheeks flushing a bright red under his gaze.

You’d noticed that he always looked at you as if he were undressing you in his mind, but now that he’d seen your body, his eyes bored deeper. So deep that it was almost as if he thought he could get you naked with just one look. But with the way he was looking at you then, it could have been a real possibility.

Harry’s lips ghosted across yours, dragging across your cheek until they settled at your ear. “We should go and check out our room,” he whispered, his voice huskier than it had been previously. His free hand tightened around your waist as he spoke, sending shivers down your spine.

You slid off his lap, leaving your barely touched drink on the table as you headed for the stairs. Harry was close behind you the whole way, his hands finding your hips as you started to climb.

You barely made it through the door before he was pulling you to him, his core pressed tight to your back. You could feel everything, every dip and curve of muscle, every twitch of his cock. Harry’s ringed hands gripped and clawed at your clothes with an urgency that sent a chill through your body.

You let him push you towards the bed, turning to face him when your calves hit the frame. He slid a hand up your shirt without a second thought; the sting of his nails, the warmth of his touch, the drool wetting his bottom lip as he stared at you open-mouthed. It was enough to make your knees buckle beneath you, your body suddenly not strong enough to withstand the energy and desire that coursed through you.

In that moment you realised that Harry was addictive. There was an energy that flowed through him, a frantic buzz of electricity shooting through your bloodstream at the mere thought of him. His touch, his voice, his presence left you with a high that you never want to come down from - a dangerous game to play. You knew you couldn’t have him, and the idea of the fall terrified you. But while thoughts of him were clouding your mind, the what ifs and what thens, he was with you, in front of you, tugging your t-shirt over your head.

You pulled your maxi skirt down, stepping out of it and throwing it somewhere off to the side. Harry backed away from you, his hands falling limply to his sides as his gaze dropped down to your panties. It was his first time seeing you properly, and he wanted to take in everything. The curve of your hips, the freckle on your thigh, the scarring of what once was a belly button piercing. His eyes trailed higher, to the fullness of your breasts, the blush of your nipples, the way your hair rested on your shoulders.

“So fucking pretty, kitten,” he whispered, reaching out to pull you towards him. His hand gripped your wrist firmly as he closed the distance between you. With a swift, fluid motion, Harry pushed you against the wall, the cool surface a shock against the heat radiating from his body. The impact took your breath away, but before you could fully process the sensation, his lips were on yours, fierce and demanding. The world around you blurred into insignificance, your whole being succumbing to the urgency and passion of Harry’s tongue as it moved against yours. His feet nudged between yours, his erection pressing into your parted thighs.

He pulled away after a minute, his fingers tangled in your hair. You were panting, gasping for breath as his lips moved down your neck. “Tell me what you need from me,” he murmured, nipping at the skin between hot kisses.

“Anything, everything,” you whispered, your voice breathy, a ghost of itself. Harry pulled away from you, straightening up so he could look you in the eye. His fingers trailed across your jawline, his normally mossy eyes now like coal as they moved over your face.

“Don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” he said, pulling his lower lip into his mouth as his hand roamed your skin, tracing the curves and contours of your hips and waistline.

“Give me everything, H,” you moaned, reaching out to touch him as the anticipation became too much to handle. His hand left your face, fingers tangling between yours as he blocked you from touching him, holding your hand at your side as he dropped to his knees in front of you.

You widened your legs for Harry without a second thought, grip tightening on his hand as he pressed wet kisses to your inner thighs.

“Been dreaming about this,” he drawled, his breath dancing lightly across the inside of your thigh. You were powerless, frozen in place by your need as he curled his fingertips around the lace of your thong, kisses and nips following as he tugged it down your thighs.

He let go of your hand as soon as you were exposed, moving to lift both of your feet with a gentle touch, one after the other. You kicked your panties somewhere across the room, pushing your shoulders back into the wall as his nose nudged into your thigh, opening you wider for him.

Your breath was caught in your throat, blood pounding in your ears as you looked down at Harry, watching as he rested back on his heels and took in every part of you. He stared like he wanted to commit it to memory, like this was what he needed to see when he closed his eyes. He draped your leg over his shoulder, licking a hot stripe from your knee to your core.

And then suddenly, without any warning, his fingertips trailed through your entrance, collecting your slick. Your head fell back against the brick as he took his fingers between parted lips, his cheeks hollowing as he suckled on your juices. The whimper that you let out was obscene, he was obscene, worshipping your pussy as if it was everything to him.

When he was satisfied, Harry’s tongue traced the line that his fingers had made, licking into you so tenderly yet driven by desire. He was eating you like he’d been starved, like your pussy was the prey he’d been hunting. Your knees buckled as his nose grazed your clit, your weight shifting slightly as you dropped deeper onto his mouth. You could feel his smirk against your entrance, his moan vibrating through your core as you gasped and panted. But you were playing into his hands, giving him the reactions he so desperately wanted.

His deep groan fluttered through you as your hands twisted into his curls, the sharp sting of your nails just enough to spur him on. He repeated the same movement, over and over, his focus alternating between your entrance and your clit, his fingers wrapped around your thigh, tips digging in just enough that you expected bruises by the morning. The thought of it made you ache, the idea of his touch marking you, making you his, was enough to have your body trembling over him.

Your heel dug into Harry’s back, your motivation somewhere between steadying yourself and pulling him closer, your fingers tangling tighter into his curls. And when he looked up at you, his eyes locking onto your face as his lips moved towards your clit, his fingers sliding into your entrance, you were wrapped around his finger, indebted to him, owned by him from that moment onwards.

“Look at me,” he demanded, the soft touches of his lips against your nerves leaving you whining and rocking against his mouth. When you didn’t pull your head down fast enough, a splayed hand slammed against the curve of your ass. You cried out, tugging on his hair as your eyes met his, your eyelids heavy.

“Good girl,” Harry whispered, his soft lips wrapping back around your clit. Every muscle in your body seemed to tense at once, your entire body buzzing as he worked his fingers inside of you, his free hand rubbing at the mark his slap was sure to have left. It was too much, the pleasure defeating you as you started to fall apart, crying out his name as you came.

Harry waited a minute, kissing across your mound and your inner thighs, before slipping your leg from his shoulder. He got back to his feet slowly, his hands trailing the outside of your body as if he might need to catch you. Your heart was hammering in your throat, the flashes of sweetness and purity in Harry’s actions somehow making the moment even dirtier.

As soon as he was level with you again, confident that you can support yourself, his lips were back on yours. Hungrier, more desperate than before. He pulled you into him, his cock twitching as you bite down on his bottom lip, his hands splayed across your back. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so overwhelmed with desire and need, and you weren’t sure you ever would be again.

“Y’so fucking perfect,” Harry murmured against your mouth, turning you around and pushing you onto the bed. “Do you know how it’s been for me?” he asked, tugging his tshirt over his head. “Watching you in class, seeing you flounce around in those little skirts knowing what’s underneath. Knowing that pussy is waiting for me?”

You shook your head, moving your legs just slightly so he had a better view of you. “Such a tease,” he continued, voice so low you could barely make out his words. You were aching all over, physically pained by the lack of touch, your walls throbbing with impatience. He was taking too long, too many seconds wasted by fiddling with the button on his slacks.

“Please, Harry,” you whimpered, reaching out to help him undress. “You don’t like waiting?” he scoffed, finally stepping out of his trousers. The outline of his cock is all you can focus on, your lips parting as you stare at him. “I need you to tuck me,” you whined, massaging both of your breasts in an attempt to take the edge off.

He walked around the bed to the nightstand, eyes never leaving your body. “All fours,” he demanded, plucking a condom from his wallet.

You followed his orders, turning onto your knees and pressing your chest flat to the bed. His eyes bore into your core as he rolls the condom over his cock, sucking in a sharp breath.

“Fuck,” he whispered, coming up behind you and tracing the curve of your hips with splayed hands.

He pushes himself against your folds, his tip nudging against your clit with every move. You rock your hips back into him, whining until he lines himself up with your entrance.

Your head dropped to the mattress as he finally pushed himself into you, groaning as your walls pulsated around his width. He was big. Bigger than you’d imagined, bigger than you’d ever had. You could feel him everywhere. Your head dropped to the mattress as he finally pushed himself into you, groaning as your walls pulsated around his cock. He was big. Bigger than you’d imagined, bigger than you’d ever had. You could feel him everywhere, his tip pressed against your g-spot, his girth splitting you apart.

You gripped the bedsheets with shaky hands, your knuckles white as Harry pulls back.

“Perfect fucking cunt,” he drawled his fingertips digging into your waist. He glanced down, eyes dark as he watches his cock pushing back into you, the condom coated in your slick.

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t focus on anything except moving your hips back to meet his thrusts. His cock was everywhere, filling every inch of you as his hands roamed your ass, each thrust more powerful than the last. “More, Harry, *please*,” you begged, rocking your hips into him so hard that the slap of skin on skin echoed around the room.

“Still need more, huh?” Harry cooed, his voice so low it was almost sinister. You nodded, whimpering as he slammed back into you.

He gathered your hair into a ponytail, twisting it around your fingers and tugging until your back was flush with his chest. His hand snaked around to your throat, squeezing lightly as he tilted your head back to look at him.

“Such a good little slut,” he drawled, watching as you trailed a hand down to your clit, knees weak as you rubbed circles against the sensitive nerves.

Harry leaned down a little, sinking his teeth into the flesh next to his hand. You couldn’t keep from crying out, writhing in his grasp. You’d never felt so much before. His cock fucking into you, his grip on your throat, the pull of your skin between his teeth, your fingers at your clit. It was like you were experiencing everything at its fullest, your senses heightened as your body went into overdrive. You didn’t have time to register your orgasm until you were in the thick of it, rolling your body against your palm, choking out a scream of Harry’s name.

He eased his grip on your throat, letting you drop down onto the mattress as you rode through your high. He pulled out of you, rolling onto the centre of the bed with a groan.

You climbed on top of him, lining his length up with your entrance and slipping him back inside of you. Your head rolled back on your shoulders as you felt him from a new angle, your hands resting against his tattooed torso.

“So fucking big, H,” you whined, circling your hips as if it would make any difference to the way you were bursting at the seams, stuffed full of his cock.

His hands found your hips as you started to inch yourself off him, your eyebrows furrowed as you try to get used to his size.

“Taking me so well, kitten,” Harry murmured, his eyes glazed over as he watches you ride him, your ass slapping against his groin as you start to bounce on him.

He cupped the back of your neck with one hand, pulling you closer to him. You planted your hands on either side of his head, grinning against his mouth as he kissed you, the taste of your slick still lingering on his tongue. Your body was practically aglow with energy, tingling from your head to your toes as he reached around to slam a hand against your ass. Each smack of his palm is punctuated with your loud cry, falling into time with the squelch of your juices to form an obscene chorus. It’s an entirely depraved, overwhelmingly dirty sound, especially for the early afternoon.

But as Harry gripped your hips and held you steady, fucking up into you with the power and force of a machine gun firing, you really don’t care at all about anything going on around you. In that moment, it’s you and Harry against the world. That’s the final thought you had before your walls clamped around his cock, whimpering into his mouth as your third orgasm of the day started to tear through your body. Harry’s thrusts got sloppier, his hips jolting as he came, your pussy milking him of all he had. Your hips rocked as he panted into your mouth, rubbing at the welts starting to rise on your skin.

You waited for his heart rate to lower before easing off of him, pulling the condom from his length as you kneeled beside him. Harry watched as you tied the end, dropping it haphazardly near the bin before flopping down next to him, chest still heaving.

You stared at the ceiling, stars still lingering in your vision. It wasn’t fair. Harry wasn’t the kind of man you were meant to have a fling with, he was the white picket fence and babies man. You knew that questioning him and begging would only make you look younger and sillier in his eyes, but the lingering vulnerability had your words slipping out before you could hold yourself back.

“I don’t want this weekend to be all we have,” you whispered, rolling over to look at Harry.

“I don’t either, princess,” he murmured, propping himself up on his elbow. His free hand pushed the stray hairs from your face, his touch never far from you. “But at this point in your life, do you really want to sneak around for a few years?”

You stared at him in silence for a moment, your bottom lip jutting out as you realised how impossible any kind of relationship would be.

“I don’t like it anymore than you do. But if I have you, I want to be able to show you off. You’re too good to be any man’s secret.”

You groaned, throwing your hands over your face. How could someone make you feel so wanted even as they let you down?

“You know I’m right,” Harry teased. You could almost hear the arrogant smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. You rolled onto your back, letting your arms drop limply at your sides. “No,” you grumbled.

“I am,” Harry continued, climbing over you and planting his hands on either side of your head. “Now are you gonna carry on sulking, or are we going to enjoy ourselves?”

The injustice melted away as you stared up at him, his toothy grin spreading as your face softened. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pushing your hips up until they met his core. “Show me what I’ll be missing,” you whispered, the tug on your heartstrings overpowered by your need.

—

The shower, desk, window seat, sink, every surface possible had all been used by the time the sun went down that evening. You were exhausted, every inch of your body throbbing. Harry could see it in the way your face screwed up just a little every time you moved, his hands never ceasing as they rubbed over your sides.

He glanced down at you, a soft smile curving his lips. You were somewhere between simply too content to open your eyes and full-on knocked out as he slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb the you. He padded softly across the room, kicking away discarded items of clothing as he made his way to the bathroom, the cool tiles a stark contrast to the warmth of the bed.

The tub had barely started filling up before you appeared in the doorway, rubbing at your eyes with the heels of your hands.

“Hi, kitten,” Harry grinned, pulling you in for a hug.

You hated how easy and normal everything felt as you wrapped your arms around his back, your head falling between his pecs as if this was where you were meant to be.

“What you doing?”

“I was rough with you today, and I feel bad,” he shrugged. “And you seem like the kind of girl who likes a bath.”

“I’ve had a really nice day,” you sighed, your voice muffled against his t-shirt. You really had, but it wasn’t right. It wasn’t right that he’d fucked you the way you’d always dreamed of. It wasn’t right that he’d been the Troy to your Gabriella. It wasn’t right that he was taking the time to care for you. It wasn’t right that this was the way your story would end.

But you pushed those feelings down as Harry kissed the top of your head, his thumb rubbing circles on your lower back. “Good. Me too.”

You stepped away from him as he reached around to shut the water off. “What are you supposed to do while I have a bath?”

“I don’t know. Fall to my knees and cry until you’re back,” Harry shrugged, tangling his fingers with yours and pulling your arms around his neck.

You dodged his kiss with a laugh, shaking your head as you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t even think about asking me to join you. That is the smallest bathtub I’ve ever seen,” Harry teased.

“Then just stay here with me,” you ask, grinning when he agreed. He pulled your hands to his mouth, kissing each of your knuckles one by one.

“Just give me a minute,” he told you, letting go of you as he backed out of the bathroom.

You stepped into the bath when Harry left, listening out for a clue as to what he suddenly needed to do. All you heard was the main door closing behind him, and his quick steps down the hallway.

He padded back into the bathroom a few minutes later with a flute of champagne in either hand. “Nice touch,” you grinned, washing the bubbles from your hand as he passed one of the glasses to you with a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“Can’t fault a man for trying,” Harry smiled, closing the toilet so he could sit next to you.

You pushed the bubbles around the surface of the bath for a second, watching as they popped and sparkled.

“Take your top off,” you giggled, turning to Harry with a bright grin.

He eyed you suspiciously as you glared back at him, your smile never faltering. “I’m naked, H. In the bath. What exactly are you expecting me to do right now?”

He shrugged, tugging his t-shirt over his head after a pause and balling it between his fists.

“I never knew you had so many tattoos. Didn’t really get to see them earlier,” you told him, eyes trailing across each one. You’d caught glimpses of them before, but you hadn’t expected his torso and arms to be littered in so much ink.

“Can’t really show them at work,” Harry shrugged, glancing down at his inked torso.

“I like the moth,” you mused, though your eyes were glued to the ferns poking out from the waistband of his pants. “Which one’s your favourite?”

He looked over himself, twisting his arms around so he could get a view of each tattoo. “These two, I think,” he answered finally, pointing to the A and G on his shoulders. “For my mum and sister.”

“You don’t have the right build for an English professor,” you stated, not entirely expecting to voice that aloud.

“No?” Harry laughed, his eyes back on you as you sipped your champagne. You shook your head, cheeks a little flushed as you realised you’d have to explain yourself.

“English professors are grey. Or beige. They’re old and withered and smell like dusty libraries,” you told him. “You’re…”

“Not like that, I hope,” Harry finished for you, his dimples carved deep into his cheeks as he grinned.

“Not at all. I think every single student has a crush on you,” you smirked. “Did you always want to be a teacher?”

Harry shook his head, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. “Didn’t even consider it until I was about to graduate.”

“I have no idea what I’m going to do after,” you confessed, nose crinkling as you thought about it. “None of the jobs available really appeal to me. I might have to marry rich.”

Harry let out a loud laugh as you giggled. “Don’t look at me. I have about £5 left to my name after paying my bills.”

You settled into an almost uncomfortable silence, both seemingly realising how close you’d gotten to inadvertently discussing marriage.

“Are you hungry?” Harry asked finally, cutting through any tension at risk of building up.

“A little,” you replied, tilting your head as you look at him.

“Want me to go get something?”

You nodded, setting your empty glass down as Harry leans over, planting a gentle kiss on your lips. Your eyes widened when he turned away, tugging his t-shirt back over his head.

It was all too domesticated, too natural. You were acting like an established couple, not two people who would go their separate ways after leaving the hotel room. But despite knowing that, every touch and every kiss had you melting into Harry a little more.

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts and distract yourself before you concocted a reality in which you could live happily ever after with Harry by your side.

You decided to preoccupy yourself with getting cleaned up as soon as you heard the door swing shut, scrubbing your body and any leftover makeup from your face.

You stepped out the bath, wrapping yourself in the one clean towel neither of you had ruined, when your phone buzzed from the windowsill.

courtney: hows it going? you ok ? X

y/n: had more orgasms today than I’ve had in my life.

courtney: 🍆? 😉

y/n: tell you everything later. Love u xx

You threw your phone in the general direction of the bed, smirking to yourself. You knew you shouldn’t tell Courtney everything, but Harry must’ve known that was a given before he fucked you the way he had.

Your reflection caught your eye in the mirror as you hung the towel back up, the girl staring back at you glowing. You hated that this was the happiest you’d been in a long time, and you hated knowing that all of that would be stripped away not even twenty four hours later. But you’d already told yourself time and time again not to dwell on it now, promising yourself as much sadness as you needed the second you got home. You had a funny feeling that Illicit Affairs might be the only song you’d listen to for a few weeks.

It was only as you stared at yourself that you noticed the familiar discomfort that came with wearing your contacts for too long. Your eyes were begging for relief, but you felt suddenly shy about wearing your glasses in front of Harry. He’d definitely seen you wearing them before, but you could never be sure how much he’d noticed you before.

You sighed, blinking a few times before plucking both lenses from your eyes and dropping them into the bin.

It was only as you padded towards the bed that you realised that your ‘good’ glasses were in your bag. With your clean clothes. In the backseat of Harry’s car. You found your purse, pulling out your spare glasses with a groan. They were your huge, thick, never-wear-in-front-of-anyone-else, emergency pair. Definitely not the pair you wanted Harry to see you in.

You ran your fingers along the arm with a grumble, pushing them onto your nose. Any glasses were better than Harry coming back to find you naked and blind. Perching on the edge of the bed, you messaged Harry to remind him to bring the bags up when he got back to the room.

It was only a few minutes later that you heard his keycard in the door and he came to your rescue, with two pizza boxes balanced in his hand and both bags slung over his shoulders.

“This is a nice surprise,” he grinned, setting the pizzas and bags down next to you. You folded your arms over your chest, tilting your head away from him slightly.

“My clothes and good glasses are in my bag,” you mumbled, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“And why is that a bad thing?” he asked, kicking his shoes off before sitting down next to you. His palm found your cheek, turning your head back towards him. “You are naked and adorable. I wouldn’t have bothered with the bags if I’d known.”

“You are incredible. I have no idea what happened with your generation’s self esteem. Seriously,” Harry told you, holding your head up with two fingers under your chin.

He studied your face for a minute before pushing you down, knocking the pizzas out of the way with a muttered “oops.”

Harry angled himself slightly above you, cupping your face in both hands. He pressed tender kisses to your forehead, nose and the corners of your lips, before moving down your neck, kissing along your throat and collarbone.

His mouth continued down, his lips wrapping around your nipple as his hand found the other breast, giving them both some attention before swapping. And then he followed that same trail upwards, pausing to kiss and nibble at your ear.

“Think you’re the most beautiful girl in world,” he whispered, suckling on the skin just below your ear. “You are to me.”

You turned your head until your nose brushed against his, eyes soft as you stare back at him.

“What do you need, princess?” Harry asked, his voice low as you fumbled with his belt buckle.

“Just want to be close to you, H,” you whispered, clawing at his slacks with impatience.

He pushed your hair out of your eyes before standing to remove his clothes, stroking his cock a few times as it sprung out of his boxers. His eyes were on you as he touched himself, a sight you knew would flash behind your eyes every time you reached into your panties.

“Come here,” he told you, moving backwards on the bed until his back met the headboard.

You climbed onto his lap, any tension in your body melting away as you settled over his cock. “We used all the condoms earlier,” Harry whispered, wrapping a hand around your waist to pull you closer to him.

“Doesn’t matter,” you replied. “Just needed to feel you.”

“Yeah?” Harry asked, rubbing circles around the dimples on your lower back. You nodded, running your fingers through his curls. “Lift up a second, kitten,” he whispered, holding his free hand under the curve of your ass as you raised your hips.

He lined himself up with your entrance, biting down on his lower lip as he eased you back down, feeling you for the first time with no barrier.

You let out a moan you didn’t even know you’d been holding, the sensation of him deep inside you, filling you up, exactly what you’d needed.

“Better now, princess?” Harry cooed, running his hand along your hips. You nodded, reaching for the pizza box. “Better.”

—

“I’m away for the next two days,” Harry told you, tangling his fingers with yours. “Got a teaching conference.”

“Do you think it’ll be hard to go back to normal?” you asked, totally disregarding what he’d said.

“Yes,” Harry answered, without so much as skipping a beat. “But I think it will only be so difficult because we have to keep seeing each other.”

You let out a dejected sigh, running your thumb across the back of his hand. “Yeah.”

“So you should spend the next two days practicing some self restraint,” Harry teased, looking over at you with that same, goofy, familiar grin.

“You are the serial toucher,” you laughed, tugging your hand away from his to swat at his chest.

“You just touched me.”

“I hit you.”

Harry snatched your hand back, chuckling before you settled into silence. Your gaze shifted to the view outside your window, familiar buildings and street signs coming into view as you drove closer to home. You weren’t ready to carry on with the life you had before Harry, his presence making everything somehow brighter.

“What’s your girlfriend doing tonight?” he asked finally, breaking the silence.

“Ask your roommate. She’s probably at yours,” you smirked.

“She’s always at mine,” Harry groaned. “Do you want to pick her up before I drop you home? I assume you’ll need to gossip,” he teased.

You shook your head softly, eyes dropping to where your hands sat intertwined. “No, it’s okay. I’ll see her tomorrow.”

You had a date with a book, a pint of ice cream and a potential cry lined up for when you got home. You weren’t ready to share your weekend with Courtney, needing to keep it sacred just a while longer. It was the only thing you had that was only yours and Harry’s for now.

—

You approached Harry’s office door, reaching for the doorknob with a tentative hand. You shouldn’t have been there and you knew it, but with a question from his earlier lecture and a burning desire to just see him, you pushed the door open.

You barely knew how to act around him after your weekend. He hadn’t met your eye in class, purposely avoiding your gaze when he passed you in the hall. You’d waited two days to speak to him, which was nothing. But it was two days of drafting and deleting nonsense texts, trying to come up with excuses to see Courtney at his in case he was there, pulling on his t-shirt before you touched yourself so it would feel like he was with you. You were completely, utterly addicted to him.

Harry’s eyes lit up the moment turned around and saw you, a genuine smile spreading across his face. The room had felt different without you, the monotony of grading and the cold glow of his laptop screen somehow duller and more lifeless than he remembered.

He gestured towards the empty seat, dropping the pile of books he was carrying onto the desk. “I won’t be long,” you mumbled, shaking your head. “Just had a question about today’s lecture.”

Harry leaned against the wooden edge of his desk, watching you as you flipped through your notes. He couldn’t help noticing how much warmth you brought into his office, how relieved he was to be alone with you.

“How are you?” he asked finally, cutting through the silence.

“M’okay. Just trying to actually focus on my degree now,” you smiled, heart pounding as you eased into conversation. “Decided to tutor a couple of other students.”

“Your professor would be proud,” Harry grinned, running a hand through his curls. You returned his smile, your notebook falling to your side as you edged just a few inches closer. The tension felt thick, too many unspoken words to fit into one short conversation. But Harry's gaze was soft as he looked over you, an intensity behind his eyes that made your heart pound against your ribcage. You could see the cogs turning in his head, an internal battle between desire and restraint.

You were thankful for the dimmed lights as a blush crept up your cheeks, stepping closer to Harry as if an invisible force pushed you towards him. Your fingertips brushed his knee, your lips parting slightly as you stared up at him.

You’d somehow expected him to change, to see him today and he wasn’t the same man you’d left behind. But he was no different than the man who’d fucked you, who’d cared for you so tenderly.

In a moment of weakness, Harry leaned in, his hand tangling into your hair as his lips found yours. It was gentle yet urgent, filled with all the emotions he had been holding back. You pulled him closer, your notes forgotten as they dropped to the floor, your fingers wrapping around his collar. For a few fleeting seconds, you were almost transported back in time, reality shifting into a parallel where this was natural and normal.

But Harry suddenly pulled away, his breath ragged, his expression conflicted. "We can't," he whispered, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. "I'm sorry, kitten.”

Your heart ached at the loss of his touch, leaning forward to chase his kiss. But Harry’s hand fell from you as he took a step back, his eyes glued to the floor.

The silence that followed was heavy, loaded with everything left unsaid. Harry turned away, leaving you standing there, the warmth of his kiss still lingering on your lips, and the cold realization of his withdrawal settling in.

Your heart plummeted as Harry's words echoed in your ears. You trailed a finger along your lower lip, trying to soothe the sting of rejection. You felt exposed, your mind racing with self-doubt, wondering if you had misread everything. If you had been foolish to think there was something more.

You backed away from Harry, tears of hurt and embarrassment stinging at your eyes. He was silent, frozen as he watched you walk away. The second the door closed behind you, his gaze dropped to your notes on the ground, his fist slamming into the desk behind him.

—

Harry slumped over the breakfast bar, his head in his hands. It wasn’t supposed to have gone this way, and he thought he knew better. He had decided to stay away from you, and he’d broken that promise to himself. He was supposed to keep his distance. You were nothing short of irresistible to him, and he knew the second he was alone with you he’d cross boundaries. And that was exactly what he’d done.

“Just talk to her,” Courtney told him from across the kitchen. Trapped in his inner turmoil, he hadn’t even noticed her in the room.

“Remember I’m still your professor,” Harry grumbled, eyes still focused on the grainy marble under him.

She shookher head, groaning as she swiped the untouched slice of toast from his plate. He lifted his head to look at her, hoping his expression would convey how little he wanted to get into a conversation about you. Courtney raised her eyebrows as she backed out of the room, eyes still on Harry. “You’re not the only one who’s in a strop, you know.”

“You’re also in my house,” he called after her, running a hand through his hair.

You hadn’t told Courtney about that afternoon yet. Harry knew Courtney was feisty before she became his second roommate, and he was certain that she’d make no attempt to hide her feelings towards him if she knew how he’d rejected you. Either you were too embarrassed to even mention it, or there was still a chance for Harry to turn things around. He may have been a man in a pit of despair, but he chose to take it as a sign.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed his keys and left. He didn’t even know what his plan was, or what he was signing himself up for by going to see you. But twenty minutes later he was pulling up outside your apartment, hoping you’d be home and praying you would be willing to hear him out.

Your windows were open and a light was on, so he was over the first hurdle.

He was almost at your doorstep when he heard it. The little uncertain giggles that exploded into laughter. It was his favourite sound, and until then, he’d foolishly assumed it was reserved for him. But there was someone else in your flat, someone else making you laugh the way he did.

He backed away from the door, leaning up against his car to try and get a glimpse of who was inside. He couldn’t see anyone, even craning his neck and stretching onto his tiptoes was hopeless. He turned around, clenching his fists as his jaw tightened. He was about to get back into his car when he heard the second voice, a husky male voice. He couldn’t hear what he said, but he didn’t need to. There was another man in your room, another man making you laugh the way he had. And you were happy. Not backing away from him in tears, with hurt and embarrassment written all over your face.

This wasn’t him. He wasn’t the man who got cheated on, but you weren’t cheating on him. He’d ended it. You weren’t his, and you had every right to be with someone else. But that didn’t make it feel any better.

He should never have put you in a position where you could be anyone else’s. His mind was racing, thoughts of you tangled up in your bedsheets with him, that voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear, hands that didn’t belong to him trailing over the bruises Harry had left on your skin.

“Fuck,” he shouted, his fist flying out to make contact with his wing mirror. He should have just fucking kissed you properly. He should’ve found a way to make it work, but he hadn’t. He was a coward, pushing you into the arms of another man just so he could protect his fucking reputation.

He was half prepared to march back to your door, to charge in and reclaim what he’d lost. But he knew he wasn’t acting or thinking like someone you’d want around, so he got back into his car and left, heading for nowhere.

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wheneclipsefalls · 4 days ago

Text

Little Gift - Snap

Summary: Your temper may be your down fall.

Warnings: DUBCON / NONCON, MDNI, aged up characters, NSFW, explicit content, kidnapping, rough, humiliation, alien/human relationship, swearing, power imbalance, yandered qualities, posessive behavior, dom/sub dynamics, punishment, etc.

A/N: Happy New Years, my lovelies ;)

Adult Neteyam pic by Cinetrix

Little Gift Masterlist

For lack of a better, less vulgar term, pussy whipped is how you would describe Neteyam. From the first time he sheathed himself inside your tight warmth there has been seemingly nothing else on his mind but a repeat. And while your lips spew endless complaints and cursed remarks, the honey between your legs is all the encouragement he requires.

It's frustrating. Draining. Yet an inconvenience that is hard to voice properly when your legs are trembling around his waist and synapsis going off like fireworks until the post orgasmic haze drowns you in its wake. There is nothing left but the caress of his skin. The hardness that fills you to the brim. Even the taste of his seed coated along your tongue and throat.

He has become your inescapable vice

There are benefits, however. Because when you're lying there with nothing but static bliss lining your consciousness, Neteyam swarms in that bliss too. And it’s only taken two days to identify that as the opportune time to sway his decisions.

Neteyam will never let you go. That is a reality you have begrudgingly come to acknowledge.

But there are ways to coerce him into giving you certain privileges. A few sweet words with his cock still sunk inside of your heat and you had secured a new, more modest, loincloth and more importantly, your precious music box. This new sway was slowly making your life in the Olo’eyktan’s grip more comfortable. Perhaps too comfortable.

When eclipse’s glow glimmers through the marui walls and a warm large frame curls around your form as you sleepily watch the ballerina twirl, it's hard to keep that small smile from your lips. Difficult to yearn for the nights you spent alone in your twin sized bed with only the cold metal walls for company. And even when the Olo’eyktan’s deep voice rumbles that it’s time for sleep and a hand reaches over to shut the box, you can’t stop yourself from following his command as skilled fingers run through your hair.

You’re losing the battle but that won’t keep you from fighting to win the war.

Snuggling in Neteyam’s grip may have its perks but there are still constant annoyances that strengthen your disdain for this new life. The biggest of which being his younger brother. The same male that had not only watched you struggled upon the tarmac of Bridgehead but happily participated in your humiliation without a second thought. Perhaps your hatred would not run so deep if Lo’ak had at least shown an ounce of shame for his actions but his demeanor proves to be quite the contrary.

You haven’t spoken to him since the RDA’s departure, nor do you want to, but Lo’ak is always there. In the midst of bustled village life his eyes pin on you. With Neteyam is dragging you along the forest floor with a firm grip on your wrist, Lo’ak’s lips curve into that same cocky smirk.

Avoidance is the strategy you cling to so when Neteyam wakes to inform you of your babysitter for the day, panic springs forward quickly. To your dismay even the sweetest words and filthiest of touches does not sway Neteyam from his decision. Lo’ak has once again become your default supervisor after the stunt you had pulled with Spider.

Pussy whipped he may be but even Neteyam reaches his limit after too much whining and begging. A firm promise of punishment if you continue is what it takes to finally stop your coercion.

So here you sit. Defeated and silent in Lo’ak’s marui, counting down the hours until Neteyam returns.

Lo’ak, who tends to a simple meal over the flames, periodically burns his attention into the back of your head. Fighting the urge to squirm under the awkward circumstances you opt to distract yourself by observing his humble abode. It’s different from Neteyam’s. Where the Olo’eyktan must have everything in its rightful place and organized at all times, Lo’ak is at ease with some clutter and a relaxed space instead. The only items that have a strict placement are the guns hung across his wall. No doubt high enough to be out of your reach.

“Is this how it’s going to be?”

You don’t respond, motionlessly faced away.

“Silence forevermore to punish me for my actions?” Lo’ak lets out a mocking sigh of sadness. “However will I survive?”

It takes effort to halt your teeth from grinding. Na’vi senses are much more responsive to sound than your own and you’ll be damned if Lo’ak gets even an inkling of how much he is bothering you. Like a statue, you remain still and silent.

“Although I’m not sure how good of a consequence it is. It may be nice having some peace from your constant whining.”

Despite your better judgment you sneak a glance at him from the corner of your eye. As expected, Lo’ak is on his haunches over the fire with an ease only he can muster under the tension in the room. His tail curls casually along the floor but his ears are perked, awaiting a response.

This is only meant to get a rise out of you. It seems bugging you is one of his favorite past times so bugged you shall not be.

“Or maybe this is my reward instead, for bringing you to such bliss.” He muses and heat rises like an inferno along your skin. The vein along your forehead becomes more pronounced. “What can I say? I believe in the importance of a woman’s pleasure.”

Rage springs you to your feet in an instant, turning on your heel to glower at him.

“I was in trouble and you took that remote and-”

“And helped you enjoy a moment that would have otherwise been depressing for you. Something I wouldn’t have to have done if you hadn’t decided to come watch the torment yourself.” He quips back, brows raised as he holds your stare.

Small hands clenched into fists, you can’t stop your feet from stomping towards him.

“You are an absolute idiot!”

“Maybe so but even an idiot like me can see right through you.”

“Is that so? And what wise insight does the mighty prince have on me?” You sneer, watching his tail perk up at the sound.

“I saw the way you looked at me.”

You can feel your expression falter as your mouth runs dry.

“What?”

“I saw the way your eyes wandered and hungrily took in every inch of me. Even better, I could smell the shift in your scent, the stronger perfume it took on.” It’s his own eyes now that dilate and pin you into place. Much like his brother, Lo’ak has a knack for sending a devilish shiver just from the fixation of those golden orbs.

“You’re crazy.” Swallowing the saliva pooling along your tongue, you take extra care to keep yourself from stuttering. Especially when Lo’ak slowly takes a crouched step forward. Stubbornness keeps your feet planted.

“For a moment I thought the guards would be the only thing keeping you back from crawling to my feet.”

“Fucking delusional asshole you-”

“That’s not a criticism, tawtute.” Lo’ak’s holds his hands up in surrender. “Neither is it a complaint.” He shrugs, carefully bringing him one step closer. Suddenly you are regretting not fighting Neteyam on taking your breathing serum this morning because that glass mask would at least provide some illusion of protecting your personal space. “But it is hypocritical to chew me out for playing with that remote when you were drooling over me the entire time. Don’t you think?”

Perhaps being around the Na’vi has caused you to pick up more of their habits than you’ve realized because at those words you can feel your own lips curling back, ready to bare your blunt teeth in a vicious snarl. Keeping a cool composure is seeming less and less enticing with every word that comes out of Lo’ak’s twisted lips.

“I think Neteyam will have quite a few things to say when I tell him his younger brother has been lurking too close for comfort.” You grit out between clenched teeth. Lo’ak doesn’t meet your anger with his own. In fact, it is the glimmer of mischief remaining in his features that has your rage reaching new levels. It’s difficult to control your temper when those pearly whites are flashing back at you with glee.

“Well,” One last step and you can feel the brush of his breath. “Lucky for you when Neteyam is in a good mood he has been known to share.”

It’s difficult to say which actions set you off. Perhaps it’s his insinuation or maybe the way Lo’ak’s eyes bare into you without a flicker of shame. But whatever it is, one thing is for certain, you wish for nothing more than to wipe that grin off of his face. To make him hurt.

Those wishes, however, are what has your body moving on instinct instead of reason. Because before you can blink your hands are wrapped around the one vulnerability Lo’ak has, the only way to make him hurt. His kuru. And the next, your teeth are viciously sinking into that thick braid.

That grin is whipped away and with it comes a shout that echoes through the village.

It’s too late to go back now. Once the adrenaline, anger, and temporary triumph at seeing Lo’ak crumple has dissipated you are left to stew in the reality of your situation. Neteyam is going to whip your ass. And with your hands tied to a stump outside of the healer’s tent while Lo’ak is treated there is very little you can do to stop that.

More likely than not, Neteyam already knows what has occurred. A few Na’vi had flown off mere seconds after Lo’ak had entered the tent and you would bet your right hand they were looking to report to the Olo’eyktan. So he knows.

Just because he knows the story, however, does not mean there isn’t a chance to tell it from your perspective. Preferably before a certain Omatikaya prince spins it his way. So as your palms become sweaty and the minutes pass by, your eyes roam the forest like a guard dog on watch. They search for the very first glimpse you can catch of Neteyam, your first lines of defense locked and loaded.

When Neteyam’s ikran lands you hastily sit up on your knees. He walks with a purpose, long legs carrying him towards the tent at a pace you would never be able to match even without being tied in place.

“Neteyam!” You call for him, tugging at the bonds. Golden eyes flicker your way but his expression remains blank. “He was taunting me!” Perhaps not the best defense at a time like this but the lack of Neteyam’s attention has you blurting out the first thing to come to mind. “He was saying all of these awful-”

“Stay here, pet.” He says evenly as if you have any other choice with your wrists tightly binding you into place. And that’s all you receive before he is ducking into the tent.

Time ticks by at a taunting pace. Every minute that those voices rumble from the tent in a foreign tongue is one minute more that you are left to hypothesize what punishment awaits you. You’ve acted out before, escape attempts, attitude, starving yourself, but nothing like this. Besides the consequences of tricking Spider you’ve never gone out of your way to hurt someone else. All of those past episodes have been solely focused on running away.

Neteyam has been very clear on how he feels about such disobedience, but this infraction is new territory. Territory you should have never let yourself fall into when you’ve seen how creative Neteyam can be. Dread sinks low and deep as you sit there staring at the canopy above.

There’s no guessing what tale Lo’ak is weaving inside of that tent but you can only imagine that the other Na’vi exiting to give them privacy is a bad sign. Their voices are kept low, not that it matters when they remain speaking in the Na’vi tongue. Every now and then you hear your name thrown into the mix. At some point it starts to feel intentional, yet another way to have your anxiety spiking.

You’re sorry.

You really are.

Sorry that your own temper has landed you into this mess and sorry that all the odds are now stacked against you. Is that not enough? You’ve been a dutiful ‘pet’ for Neteyam these past few days, despite your own objections. You haven’t tried to run away in almost a week now and you’ve even taken a break from ripping apart the bow Neteyam ties around your neck.

And perhaps, if Neteyam knew better than to leave you with his arrogant little brother there would be no injury in the first place. One Sully male is enough to deal with, but two is where you draw the line. Two sets of golden eyes that see right through you. Two nearly identical smirks that fall into place the second you are trapped into feeling your body’s natural needs.

Lashing out at Lo’ak may put you in deep water with Neteyam, but maybe if you’re lucky it may also keep his brother off your back for a while. Give you a moment to breathe away from that penetrating gaze.

Neteyam’s footsteps interrupt your train of thought. Scrambling to sit up again you rush to get a few words out, but he is faster. The Olo’eyktan unsheathes his knife, cuts your bonds and calmly takes a hold of your arm.

“Teyam,”

“Time for dinner, pet.” Pulling you gently onto your feet your neck cranes to get a better look at his expression. Nothing but a cool exterior to observe and while the absence of red hot anger should be relieving it has a countering chilling effect instead.

That aloof composure remains throughout dinner even as your explanation spews out messily. Neteyam doesn’t respond, doesn’t react. He simply eats.

And that detached presence sends goosebumps along your arms.

You never thought you would come to this point, but you start to wish instead for him to lash out. Perhaps sink you under his larger frame and give you that scolding look that still holds a shadow of amusement. You would brace yourself for a night of pleasure and pain mixed into one and then it would be over by morning. But this…

The way he’s casually sipping at his cup of pxir feels so jarring you can barely cope. Anything is better than trying to navigate the unknown. You start to wonder if he has even heard a word you’ve said.

“You need to eat.” That deep voice has you perking up immediately.

“I’m not very hungry.” Not with your stomach doing somersaults in anticipation. However, Neteyam’s mask splits for a moment to give a knowing look that reminds you exactly what happened the last time you tried to starve yourself. Taking the hint and not wanting to dig your hole even deeper you quickly reach for a piece of fruit and plop it into your mouth.

Apparently it is not enough since the male reaches over with one arm and swiftly lifts you up onto his lap.

“I can-” Another look. “Fine.” You relent, letting the Olo’eyktan feed you piece after piece by hand.

Feeling his warmth pressed against your back is strangely comforting. You blame it on forced acclimation. Regardless, the silence is torture and your mind has already done enough of that on it’s own, thinking up every possible outcome that awaits you.

“Are you even mad at me?” You blurt out. Neteyam’s hand pauses from reaching up to your lips with another piece of fruit. “I mean, am I in trouble?”

“You are.” When that piece of fruit fits past your lips the tips of his fingers linger on your tongue a tad too long. Neteyam’s braids brush over your shoulder, colorful beads clanking together.

“Okay so then, can we talk about the consequences?” The last thing in the world you wish to discuss but perhaps it’s too late to negotiate getting off scot free. You may as well strive to lessen the repercussions. “Because I am sorry, Teyam. Truly-”

“I’ve already decided on your punishment.” Not a sliver of cold malice or dark intent in his nonchalant tone.

“Alright,” You swallow the lump in your throat. “Can you perhaps enlighten me on what that will be?” It’s a struggle to keep your voice even and calm. Is he drawing this out on purpose? What is the point? Push you into a panic attack?

“After dinner you are going to apologize.”

“But Neteyam I am so-”

“To Lo’ak.”

You spot said person across the fire. He chats warmly with friends and family nearby but there is a bandage woven into his braid just barely noticeable. You have blunt human teeth. He is sure to heal within a day or two with little discomfort.

“Is there any alternative?” Neteyam's face swings down into view and your script changes immediately. “Yes, apologizing...yeah that,”You clear your throat. “That sounds very reasonable.”

The rest of dinner is spent trying to conceal your sour disposition as Neteyam traces teasing circles along your legs and inner thighs. It’s a confusing set of sensations and emotions that ultimately have your heart rate racketing higher steadily. There are times where you wish dinner to never end and others where you are chomping at the bit to get things over with.

The most disturbing, however, is that voice in that back of your head saying this has all been too simple. Apologizing to Lo’ak will be by far one of the most humiliating things Neteyam has ever made you do but surely he has more in store for you after that. The eldest Sully son is too elaborate and thorough to let you off the hook so easily.

Whatever Neteyam has brewing for you after this apology is sure to be something that will allow very little sleep tonight.

Neteyam waits until the last embers of the fire have burned out. He warmly bids several Na’vi goodnight and well wishes and even volunteers to help clear away the dinner supplies. Lo’ak is nowhere in sight, although you can’t remember at what point he had left the scene. Still kept under the Olo’eyktan’s watchful eye from a distance you endure yet another round of drawn out waiting.

For a moment you are tempted to hope that Neteyam has forgotten all about the apology. Or perhaps Lo’ak has somehow become preoccupied and his absence will be your saving grace.

That hope is foolish and fleeting. You know better than to assume short memories when it comes to the Sully men. So when Neteyam reaches his hand down and you sheepishly take it, you prepare yourself for the long road ahead.

Village life is dying from a simmer into a low hum as families tuck away into their marui. Only a few stragglers are dotted along the forest that Neteyam leads you through. The path is not one that you recognize, however it slowly becomes clear that the two of you are heading away from the village. It leaves an eerie feeling in your bones.

Neteyam has promised to never allow harm to come your way but…you bit his brother today. Would that be a sufficient reason for him to lose patience with you all together? And if so, what would disposing of you entail? Facing the tip of a Na’vi knife or being set free into that dangerous den that is Pandora?

Subconsciously, you tuck against his side for comfort.

This is paranoia speaking. The predictable culmination of your worries and anxious thoughts to form a spiral you can tumble down. Recognizing this does not slow down the beat of your heart but it does help your mind grab on to the tangible facts.

Just one simple apology then you can take on the rest afterwards.

Away from the bustle of the village and deep settling fires, you can only depend on eclipse’s glow for visual. Which is why you hear Lo’ak before you spot him. He sets rippling waves along the river to your right, his silhouette just barely visible in the dim glow as he emerges calmly. Squinting your eyes, you can see him lazily running a hand through his braids, pushing them away from his face.

“You actually showed up.” He calls, although you can’t quite tell if he is talking to you or Neteyam. Long, leisurely strides take him back onto shore. Proximity allows your eyes to become snagged on the trails that drops of water create along his sculpted torso all the way down to his thighs.

“Don’t patronize. Oeyӓ tiyawn [my love] is nervous.” Neteyam replies and immediately you look up at him in silent betrayal. The Olo’eyktan doesn’t bother to veer his gaze away from his brother, instead just absentmindedly running a hand through your hair in comfort. No, to stroke you like a true pet.

Perhaps the nature of this punishment is more psychological than physical after all. Humiliation is sure to be a dutiful reminder to behave.

It sure feels that way when Neteyam settles a hand on your upper back to gently push you forward with an encouraging, “Go on, pet.”

Lo’ak, still squeezing the water from his braids, takes a seat on a nearby stump. Legs spread and brows raised, he waits expectantly. The idea of clawing his eyes out looks all the more appealing with every passing second. At least then you would find a reprieve from that sparkling look of sinister mischief. The way the corner of his lips twitch as if fighting back a smirk makes you feel that much more on display, and that much more ready to resort to violence.

“Little gift.” Neteyam calls in reminder, a steel edge starting to lace his patient tone.

Gritting your teeth, you avert your gaze away from the male in front of you in hopes of finally forcing the words out.

“I’m sorry.” Spoken between your teeth, it’s barely comprehensible. You don’t need to look at Lo’ak to feel the amusement rippling from him. No doubt the bastard is happily enjoying your struggle.

“Speak up, tiyawn.” Neteyam coaxes, although both of you know there is no need. Na’vi hearing is easily sharp enough to pick up on what you’ve said.

“I am sorry.” You breathe out on an exhale. “I shouldn’t have bit you.”

Squeezing your eyes shut your brace for the imminent teasing. He is bound to make some snarky comment or quipping tease but that doesn’t mean you have to look at him while he does so.

“Hm, that’s alright, tawtute [human]. We all get a little wound up at times.” Although upon peeking one eye open that lazy grin is in place, there is no other retort tacked at the end. And for a moment it seems that Lo’ak is not even bothered by what has happened. That only makes you more uneasy.

“That’s my good girl.” The sensual praise brushes your shoulders, quickly making you realize how close Neteyam now kneels behind you. “Now give him a kiss.”

You screech out of Neteyam’s embrace, flipping around to face him at breakneck speed. “What? No!”

That patient mask is still in place, although Neteyam lets out a small sigh. Surely this is a joke, a mean one that you wouldn’t put above either of them playing. You wait for Lo’ak’s laugh. Wait for Neteyam’s possessive reassurance that your lips only touch his.

Neither come.

“Don’t be difficult.”

Lo’ak’s earlier claim echoes in your head. The same one that had tipped you right over the edge into biting him.

“Neteyam’s been known to share.”

“No! No way. Forget it! Spank me, fuck me do whatever you want but I am not kissing him.” Face now inflamed into a bright red, you point an accusing finger back at the younger brother. Lo’ak bites back a smile, leaning back against the tree.

When you attempt to stomp off in a dramatic exit, Neteyam easily scoops you back into place with one arm. A firm grip on your hips keeps you facing him.

“You have options, pet, but not many.” That velvety voice lowers into a rough timber you’ve grown accustomed to. Always the first sign that you are stepping into dangerous territory. “You can apologize properly or we can look into taking away some special privileges you’ve seemed to have taken for granted.”

One hairless brow raises and suddenly you know exactly what privilege he speaks of.

You inhale sharply. Your music box. That damn music box that you’ve become so attached to that even the thought of him putting it back at Bridgehead makes you hold back a whimper. You never should have let him to know how deeply you care for the thing. Better yet, you never should have allowed yourself to become so dependent on a single object.

However, there is no changing that now. Caught between a rock and a hard place your features soften into a pout.

“Teyam pl-”

“I’m not interested in negotiations. Take your pick.” Although stern, his composure doesn’t hold the same dark glint it does when you’ve truly pushed him too far. Neteyam kneels there firm, but patient. Even his tail curls and swings leisurely along your thigh.

He knows how this is going to play out. He knows the leverage he holds so there is no point in wrestling you into submission. You’re going to do it on your own, pout and all. More than anything you want to prove him wrong. Lift your chin, tell him to do his worst and stomp home without another glance at Lo’ak.

But you don’t.

Instead you shuffle to turn back around at the speed of a sulking child. Arms crossed and glare blazing, you finally face the other brother reluctantly. That large hand spans across your upper back to give you a small push forward. Not willing to go down without a fight, you keep that screwed expression in place even as Lo’ak’s attention burns through you.

Even when he leans forward from his sprawled position to rest those alien hands across his upper thighs and close some of the distance between you. Even when his tail suddenly tickles at your upper thigh with a softness that almost has you stumbling backwards in surprise.

You can feel it falter, however. That burning anger struggles to overpower your ever raising nerves. So when you are finally standing between Lo’ak’s spread legs you rush to get the deed done before those nerves get the best of you, showing your cards for both males to see.

Lifting onto your toes, you leave a peck on his cheek so fast that neither of you can comprehend it before you are turning back towards Neteyam. Lo’ak’s barely stifled laughter is met by a dark chuckle of the Olo’eyktan’s own. Although, the elder Sully tries to keep his amusement to a minimum as he spins you to face back around again.

“A real kiss, tiyawn.”

“I did what you asked and-” a fierce grip catches your chin, before you are met with the Olo’eyktan’s stern expression invading your space. With lips just mere inches away from your own, Neteyam’s clutch may as well be a chokehold with the way it dissipates the air from your lungs.

It is times like these that you remember who exactly is your captor. He infuses your time together with occasional softness but there is no forgetting the true predator that lies beneath. He is not just any warrior. Neteyam is Toruk Makto’s firstborn, Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya. The same clan that had run off everyone you knew from this planet. When glimpses of that man come forward, your tough facade cripples beneath him.

“Now now, let’s not scare her too much. You said she’s nervous after all.” Lo’ak breaks the tense moment with a casual drawl. For once, you're grateful for his teasing. Less grateful however at the feel of his four fingered hands coming to rest on your hips to turn you around, the softness of his touch creating an inferno of sensation rippling through your body. “Unlike you, I promise not to bite.”

His lips curl into a crooked smirk as his tail playfully swishes behind him. The bastard is enjoying this far too much, but you’re not sure which brother is worse to face at this moment. Lo’ak’s cocky dose of humiliation or Neteyam’s dangerous threats of retribution. It feels as if neither will leave you the same you were before tonight.

A third hand clamps around the back of your neck, veerring you forward. And this time, you don’t wait to be told twice.

Your lips softly brush against Lo’ak’s own. A part of you wonders if your trembling has reverberated even to your lips where he can feel. Lo’ak, however, is surprisingly gentle and slow as he follows your tentative kiss. It’s not the usual possessive claiming that leaves your head spinning and thighs clamping together. Nor are your soft lips put under torment of nipping teeth that love to tease.

No, it’s gentle. Almost intimate.

Utterly terrifying.

A rough push at his shoulders releases you from that kiss. Your chest siezes in efforts to slow your breathing down and not let either see your body’s betrayal at that tantalizing kiss. Regardless, you know it won’t matter. If your scent isn’t already ripe with your arousal, surely your rapid heartbeat is enough to give you away.

Neteyam’s chest rumbles against your back in a deep chuckle, Lo’ak’s own eyes lit with mischief connecting with his brother’s over your head.

“See? Nothing to be afraid of.” Lo’ak coos, but there is a huskiness to his voice that raises the hair at the back of your neck. And then the soft brush of his fingers on your hips becomes claws that dig into the plush flesh and drag you forward.

A squeak can barely rip from your throat before your lips are back on his again. This time, all semblance of innocent affection is lost. Lo’ak’s lips enrapture your own into a kiss that can only be described as filthy when his quick tongue swipes past your bottom lip and devours you whole.

If you were to be told earlier that your day with Lo’ak would end with his tongue in your mouth not only would you have not believed them but the idea of it would have been disgusting. Surely you would have imagined a scene that would liken him more to the sleazy drunk men that had made moves on you during late nights at Bridgehead. Just another horny male to try sticking his dick where it isn’t wanted.

And God, do you wish that were reality.

Because a horny douchebag is so much easier to handle than the incarnation of sinful temptation that ropes around you now. So much easier than trying not to preen against the ministrations of a skilled mouth and plump lips. So much easier than resisting the urge to run the tip of your own tongue along those pointed canines.

Lo’ak may have a big mouth, but it seems that all of his talk of pleasuring women comes from actual experience. He knows which button to press, knows the perfect combination of soft and rough touches to make a female drown in his embrace.

And drown you do as another talented mouth trails along your spine, teasing you with the soft brush of his lips until your body is practically begging for the next laid kiss against your skin. It’s an attack from both sides. Trapped between two ravenous Sully men until you are unable to peek out from their shadows.

Neteyam’s large hands skate over every inch of your exposed, trembling, body while Lo’ak remains dedicated in his task of stealing the very air from your lungs. It comes on all too fast. While Neteyam is the master of taking your heated emotions and slowly making them blossom into unriddled desire, it seems that both of them together have that shift acting at the speed of an exploding bomb rather than a nurtured flower. So alarming that it has your mind reeling in its pathetic attempts to keep up.

There is no mercy to be found from these towering aliens.

Even at the few points where Lo’ak lets you gasp for air, the hand that had become tangled in your hair finally letting off on the pressure, it’s only in favor of lapping his tongue over your constricting throat.

“No marks.” Neteyam’s growled reminder barely processes through your already hazy brain. Even less so Lo’ak’s perturbed hiss before your lips are captured once more.

Scrabbling for what’s left of reason is a practice you are accustomed to when beneath the Olo’eyktan, pussy split on his cock, but never from something as simple as a heated make out session. But simple it is not, when two predators nip kiss and suck at your body as if savoring their well hunted meal.

A breeze brushes past your entrance. Lo’ak chuckles when you break the kiss to look down and find that his brother has already discarded your loincloth. Your ankles cross on instinct, a mistake when the younger Sully tugs you forward and that position only makes you fall against his chest.

“Mawey [be calm], pet.” Neteyam soothes, running a hand over your head.

“But-”

Your protest is cut off when the Olo’eyktan suddenly replaces Lo’ak’s hands at your hips and lifts you up until you are settled onto the other male’s lap. They work together to wrestle your legs over each side of Lo’ak’s thighs. Thighs that then part to keep you spread and bared for them.

“That’s a good girl.” You can’t even muster the strength it takes to act offended at Lo’ak’s condescending praise. There is barely enough time to grip his shoulders for stability before he is devouring you again.

This has been well planned, that you are for certain of because as Lo’ak consumes you in a feral kiss meant to leave your lips ruby red and attention completely taken, Neteyam makes quick work of unthreading your complicated top. They work together like a well oiled machine.

The Olo’eyktan lets out an appreciative groan, ears perking atop his head. He gives no warning before he is twisting around you to reach your right breast with his teeth. It digs into the plump flesh just beneath your pointed nipple, leaving behind an indent that is sure to be unmistakable. Lo’ak laughs against your lips when you accidentally chomp down on his bottom lip.

This bite is far more welcomed.

Your treacherous pussy is wet enough to leave sticky arousal marking your inner thighs. There is nothing but the night’s breeze to caress your erect clit and entrance that is already clenching around nothing. So when the familiar brush of rough fingerprints with scars made from a bow’s strings circles around your dripping petals, you give a knee jerk reaction.

Lo’ak swallows your moan only to react with his own when you claw into his hair for stability. Unfortunately the first piece you find just happens to be that thick braid. And while you were mere seconds away from finally having your begging clit played with, it’s the bite of a sharp sting that your sensitive sex is met with instead. Neteyam sends three spanks straight to your raised clit until your thighs are flexing in an attempt to snap close, a task impossible with Lo’ak’s own legs keeping you spread.

Neck complaining with the strain, your head is yanked back and fingers disconnect when you are met with hard golden eyes. Lo’ak is either unbothered or knows better than to disturb his brother when in this state because his busies himself teasing and plucking at your nipples.

“Did I say you could do that?”

“N-no.”

One of Neteyam’s hairless brows curves upwards expectantly.

“No, Olo’eyktan. I’m sorry.” You quickly correct, voice catching when Lo’ak takes your left nipple between his teeth.

Unshed tears gather in your eyes and you’re sure that the display of both submission and wrecked expression is enough to show that you meant Lo’ak no harm. Or at the very least you were in no state to do any damage, despite your desire otherwise.

However, that is not enough. Apparently nowhere near what Neteyam needs from you, evident in the way he yanks you back and crashes your lips together. The tuff of his tail tickles your inner thigh as it wraps around your leg. There is no hope of keeping up with the fervency of Neteyam’s lips, teeth and tongue as he infuses every animalistic instinct into that kiss. It’s as if something has possessed him.

You’ve seen Neteyam loosen the reins of his control. You’ve seen desire come to shine forth in the lustful actions he has succumbed to before, but he has always been in control. Calm, even as he has split you open on his cock time and time again.

But this.

You’ve never seen him like this, an utter slave to his instincts.

“Get her ready.” The sharp demand Neteyam bites is not slow enough to allow you a single breath before he is diving back in. Your neck aches and thighs tremble at the awkward angle, but suddenly that angle is changing.

Lo’ak easily throws a leg over each shoulder, lifting your lower body to his face while Neteyam keeps your upper body supported with a hand to your spine. The coordination leaves you spit roasted between the two of them, body dangling over the ground like a ragdoll.

Neteyam is deaf to your silent pleas of being let down even as your clawing nails reach back to bite into his shoulders. What little threat they are when your weak nails won’t even be able to break skin. Just as weak as your dull teeth to Lo’ak’s queue. Painful perhaps, but nothing close to permanent damage.

And it dawns upon you then, the same moment that Lo’ak’s tongue swipes playfully at your clit until you spasm. This isn’t about Lo’ak being hurt. Perhaps it never has been. Neteyam knows just as well as you that there is no real damage you could impose upon him.

No, this is about what you touched. What your teeth had sunk into when meanwhile your fingers have hardly ever ventured to explore his own.

Another male’s queue.

The neural chord associated with sacred mating among the Na’vi and not only had you been caught touching another’s, but your teeth had sunk into it.

Finally released from his lips to let out a screeching moan, you crane to get another look at Neteyam’s handsome features. Reading him tonight is easier than it ever has been. The sharp lines created from a clenching jaw and eyes made of golden steel confirm your theory without doubt. Tonight isn’t about your pleasure, even as Lo’ak’s tongue licks a broad stripe from your entrance to clit. It isn’t even about an apology.

Tonight is about proving a point.

You wish to get ahead of what is to come, plead your case now that you understand the core issue better, but when your lips part all that comes out is a wrecked whine. Lo’ak pushes that first digit past your weeping entrance until it hits the first knuckle, and then the second. It’s nothing compared to that stretch that you have now become accustomed to performing but that never seems to stop you from feeling that exquisite burn every time. A true shock to the system.

With features set into stone, Neteyam slowly lowers you down so that your upper back rests upon his propped knee. This puts your lower body up higher than your upper as Lo’ak slurps at prods at the sensitive flesh between your thighs. A provocative display that Neteyam takes in calmly. He doesn’t look down as you squirm and whine atop his knee, just places one firm hand down over your bare chest to pin you into place. His thumb, however, does find its usual place swiping over the soft ribbon tied into a bow around your throat.

“Fuck, she’s so tight.” Lo’ak exhales, your juices shining over his lips like a pretty sparkle of lip gloss. You try not to let that image stick in your head. No male has the right to look that beautiful after such depraved actions, especially someone as annoying as Lo’ak. “This little pussy can barely take a second finger.”

It does, however. A mortifying squelch sound created from your dripping core as you suck the second digit in.

“My little pet knows how to stretch.” Neteyam purrs, eyes still watching between your legs as his knuckles pet over your flushed cheek.

You gasp when Lo’ak curls his fingers and instantly finds that special spongy spot inside. Wrenching up from where you lay across the Olo’eyktan’s knee, you fight to get air back into your lungs properly.

“Stop squirming.” Neteyam’s demand is accented with a sharp slap to your inner thigh, a sensation that only has you writhing more.

“Is this a little too much for you, tawtute?” Lo’ak coos in a fake pout. “A few Na’vi fingers in this tiny cunt and you can’t even hold still like a good girl.” Those plump lips spread with your arousal pout as he tutts in mocking disapproval at you.

If there was any hope of Neteyam protecting you from his brother’s teasing it is cut short the second his own dark laughter joins the mix. A blush spreads down from your cheeks to the very swell of your breasts. That heat only intensifies when the Olo’eyktan’s fingers brush over the area in awe, reminding you of how exposed you truly are between them. Every little reaction is a display for their amusement.

“Come now, pet. Show Lo’ak how well your little demon pussy can take it.”

“Tey..I-I…Teyam!” Whatever plea you had hoped to construct morphs into a drawn out moan of his name once Lo’ak wedges a third finger into your tight entrance. The Olo’eyktan doesn’t hide his pleasure at hearing you moan his name. Meanwhile you happen to catch the hint of annoyance Lo’ak shows at his older brother’s name raining from your lips when it is his fingers bringing you such pleasure.

“Having fun, tiyawn?” Neteyam’s lips spread into a sinful display, sharp white teeth shining under the moonlight. The pads of Lo’ak’s fingers sensually rub at your inner walls, sending a tremor up your legs. “Of course you are. This is the attention you were begging for after all, isn’t it?”

You shake your head with a whine. That, however, only earns a sharp flick to your right nipple.

This had never been your intention. Piss off Lo’ak, finally give him a peace of your mind? Absolutely. But being strung between these two Omatikaya warriors to be used as their amusing little slut had not been your vision.

And yet….there is nothing else that can fill your mind, your body lighting up at every humiliating comment and sensual show of power exerted towards you.

Lo’ak wiggles his fingers into a steady scissor motion. That burn has a whimper choking in your throat but it’s Neteyam that has your attention. That handsome face floats above you, the moonlight creating a false hallo atop his neat braids. Wriggling beneath such an exquisite creature has never felt so intoxicating.

“Open.” As if spoken like a magic spell, your mouth hangs slack immediately. It’s worth the look of approval that carves into those magnetic features before he is slipping a thumb across your tongue. He taps your cheek in warning when you try to close your lips once more.

A bead of saliva coats his thumb as he presses down on that wet muscle. Then, performing once more in their perfectly coordinated dance, Lo’ak’s presses his own thumb against your pulsing clit.

The sound that rips from your throat is debauched, utterly inhuman. With Neteyam pressing down on your tongue there is no way to stifle it, so your whine rings true and free through the air.

“Fuck, so pretty.” Lo’ak groans and you can’t be sure if he refers to your spew of moans or rather the sight of your drenched pussy clamping around his digits. Drool now travels past the corner of your lips. Just barely on the cusp of an orgasm. One more little push needed that you have no way of asking for.

Neteyam chuckles when your eyes shoot open suddenly. There is a fourth intrusion, a fourth finger you are not accustomed to receiving. Confusion ripples through your features followed by another wave of bliss as Lo’ak sinks in the last finger.

Sky Demon blood.

Not the surprise you had accounted for.

There is just enough common sense left to remember you need to ask for permission to come. Neteyam shows no mercy, keeping his thumb pressing your mouth open as you try to form pleas for release.

“Have you earned it?” Neteyam asks.

A trick question. The correct answer may very well be the one that denies you an orgasm but answering otherwise could bring consequences that are already stacking at an alarming rate.

Tears welling in your eyes, you manage to shake your head softly.

“Of course not.” Neteyam sighs. His tail tickles at the sensitive flesh of your right side. “You haven’t been a good pet for me today, have you?”

The question is not rhetorical; you are silently informed when his thumb gives a few taps against your tongue. Sheepishly you nod and give out a gurgled apology.

“She seems sorry.” Lo’ak pipes up. “Aren’t you, little demon?” Your back arches when he curls all four fingers against your inner walls and pressing down on your clit with his thumb. It urges the appropriate response, however, apologies flowing freely.

“I think she wants to be a good girl now.” He adds and Neteyam studies your features to see if his brother’s assessment is correct.

“Then a good girl she will be.”

That appears to be the cue Lo’ak had been waiting for. Those long blue fingers curl and rut up into your poor cunt vigorously all while drawing fast circles on your little pearl. The orgasm that rips through your body is explosive. Your legs strain and shake. Your mouth parts on its own into a cry even once Neteyam has removed his thumb.

That pace continues until you are begging to have your overstimulated pussy left alone. Your head is stuffed full of cotton. Body buzzing so intensely in that afterglow you don’t register when Lo’ak finally draws his fingers out or how you become manhandled into a new position. The first sensation to make sense is a sudden kiss Lo’ak places on your lips before pulling away.

You think that perhaps your punishment is over, but the younger Sully is setting himself back on that stump, eyes trained upon you intently.

Neteyam has you sat on his lap, legs spread to bracket his muscular thighs and back pressed against his chest. Thick gollops of your pleasure run down your inner thighs to fall atop what you now realize is the Olo’eyktan’s uncovered cock. That bulbous tip now sprouting a bead of precum just barely jerks to tap your clit.

Lo’ak is now back a few feet from where you and Neteyam are intertwined but he may as well be pressing a magnifying glass against your skin with the way his attention zeroes in on you. His own loincloth remains on but his right hand palms at the obvious bulge there.

“What’s wrong, pet? Feeling too shy for an audience?”

“Y-yes.” You mumble, swallowing down the lump in your throat.

“Hm, that’s too bad because I’m especially inclined to show you off tonight.”

It is only the arm cinched around your waist that keeps you from being impaled on his impressive length. Your nails create half moons in Neteyam’s forearm where you grip.

“Now,” His voice darkens. “I am going to breed this slutty hole.” He gives your dripping pussy one gentle pat with his fingertips. “Going to fill it with my seed until it is properly wrecked. Lo’ak is going to watch. And you, what are you going to do?”

“Be g-good.”

“Close, little gift.” The head of his cock presses firmly against your pulsing entrance until it slips past. “You are going to give him a good show. Let him see exactly whose cum your tawtute cunt yearns for.”

Something close to awe ripples in Lo’ak’s expression as you are lowered down on the Olo’eyktan’s massive length, inch by inch. You try not to picture the crude presentation you must exhibit for his eyes as your stretch to accommodate Neteyam’s familiar shape.

“Y-yes Olo’eyktan.” The wet gushing sounds that your cum and arousal make once you are finally lowered to the base has your eyes cinching shut. You hate how addicting this sensation is. Hate even more how eager you are to reach another climax, even eager to feel the warmth of the male’s seed blossom within you.

“And why is that?”

The question doesn’t quite make sense. Whatever string of thoughts you had started knitting together fall to shambles when he begins lifting and lowering you up and down is cock in a steady pattern.

Thank God, Neteyam decides to not make you answer, because your attention is already caught by Lo’ak sliding a hand beneath his loincloth.

“Because I’m in charge, little gift. You are mine to use. Mine to love. Mine to share.”

You can feel every ridge and curve of him carve along your gummy walls. Etching a reminder of who owns you so thoroughly with every stroke.

Lo’ak’s member curves along his stomach. Bioluminescent stars freckle over the sensitive skin. They disappear and reappear periodically from beneath his fist that grips and slides around his cock.

“I decide who touches you. I decide who watches you.” Neteyam’s hips roll up just as you are dropped down to the base again. “And that means I also decide who you touch.”

Lo’ak’s teeth flash in a grin when he notices your intense gaze on him. It wipes away quickly when he interrupts himself with a rough groan and throws his head back in ecstasy.

“Do you understand, pet?”

You’re not sure where your burst of confidence comes from. Perhaps it stems from Lo’ak whose hips buck up into his hands as spurt after spurt of his orgasm spray. Maybe it’s the deep roll of Neteyam’s hips that becomes frantic the more you squeeze around him. The idea that both brothers are about to find their peaks at the mere sight and feel of you is exhilarating.

So instead of answering his question verbally, you instead shakily reach back to grab the Olo’eyktan’s kuru. Neteyam’s back goes ramrod straight, his thrusts becoming shallow. Then before you can change your mind, you swing the braid over your shoulder and push back the hair to properly examine those dancing tendrils.

Neteyam’s head falls against your hair, voice dropping into the most sexy husk of breathing you have ever heard. And that’s all the encouragement you need before lowering the tendrils to wrap around your right pointed nipple.

Pointed electricity spikes through every sensation. A zap of such pure bliss that it almost hurts. Neteyam counteracts this overstimulation with a deep moan and warm seed that bursts into your core just as you're spiraling over your own cliff.

You don’t realize you’ve blacked out until voices slowly wobble into your consciousness.

“Tie it back.” Neteyam instructs. It’s followed by a tickling sensation at your throat as the ribbon shifts. There is no energy left to spare on opening your eyes but you can feel cradling hands and hot water swimming around you. A hot springs then.

“Perfect little thing,” comes Lo’ak’s voice next.

And that is all you can decipher before blissful sleep enraptures you once more.

Hope you enjoyed! Interaction means the world to me so please comment, reblog, or send me an ask with your thoughts<3

Taglist: @pandoraslxna @tallulah477 @neteyamssyulang @sullybrothersmate @criticallybella @avatargirly @lilghostiequinni @chershire23 @lala-1516 @yawnetu @puddle-nerd @ratchetprime211 @avatargirly @chocolatechocobo91 @kariz-stark @bunnscoffe @avatarwifey @universal-s1ut @witchsprit @heart-an0n @riri-is-a-girlie @rivatar @minnory @ikeyniofthetayrangi @ilovehobi101 @spicymayyo @v4mp1rr3 @nilsavatar @bambithewriter @quicktosimp @itchaboi-itchyboy @thehoneymushroomhealer @ilytulipse @imwutim @crazy4books1 @thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction @danniackerman @dayyzlol @justabite7 @krispyjellyfishkitty @neteyamtesuli @sakurayuki8655-blog @deadpool15 @valeriinee @leaveitbythewave @aqxllo @crazed-flower @crimsonroses666 @property-of-neteyam @rejectedbytheeempty @erenjaegerwifee

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berry-potchy · 7 months ago

Text

Dad's Best Friend!Miguel part 2

Summary: Your dad shows up unannounced, interrupting your romantic dinner with Miguel. He plants seeds of doubt in your pretty little head that Miguel is more than happy to snip off

Tags: DBF!Miguel x F!Reader, age gap, college age reader, P in V sex, size difference (smaller reader), brief under the table footjob, spanking, insecurities, vague mention of Miguel’s past relationships, uncomfortable relationship talk with your dad who means well but ends up making you feel like shit anyway

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Surprise! The second part actually exists. It’s been almost a year since part one and I kept teasing part 2 but I couldn’t think of a way to end it. I considered just abruptly cutting it off and post it but I just couldn’t do it. BUT HERE IT IS NOW. Hope you guys still enjoy it!

Part 1

It has been a week since Miguel has caught you masturbating to the thought of him. A week since you found out that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. A week of absolute depravity that you thought only happened in porn. He fucked you all over the house; no room, furniture, or surface was left untouched during your vigorous lovemaking.

Unfortunately, his “sick leave” had to come to an end and so did your self-imposed break from uni. He’s going back to work the next day so you decided you were going to do something special and make the most of the last evening of his leave. Of course, there’ll be more times to fuck but you feel the need to give him something special before he goes back to his workaholic mode. Maybe it’ll encourage him to start coming home earlier.

You had everything planned. You and Miguel had a lovely early dinner that he helped you prepare. The way it was so easy to fall into a domestic routine made your heart flutter. You’d have to ask him if you can do this with him more often when he’s not so busy with work. You also had wine that Miguel picked out for both of you. You trusted his mature tastes even though you knew he preferred hard liquor. And for dessert, well…

“That’s it, gatita,” Miguel grunted in your ear, a deep growl rumbles from his chest as he rams his fat cock relentlessly into your greedy cunt. “Taking my cock so well. I’m gonna miss this when I’m at work tomorrow. Gonna think about your tight little pussy while I’m in a boring meeting.”

You can’t form any coherent words from how aggressive his thrusts were. Each thrust drove his cock deeper into you, his tip kissing your cervix, knocking the air out of your lungs and the words out of your little cock drunk brain. Your legs were wrapped around his waist and your arms holding his broad shoulders for support, hands desperately clawing at his back. You clung to him tightly as he fucked you standing up in the middle of the kitchen. He took full control of your body, his large hands on your waist, moving you up and down his cock as he pleased, like you’re his personal living cocksleeve.

“My little slut can’t even talk anymore,” he laughs at your pathetic whimpers and whines “Taking my cock like a good girl. Going to make sure you feel it until tomorrow.”

You bury your face in the crook of his neck panting, mumbling “please” over and over again against his skin. Your tits are pressed against him, sensitive nipples rubbing against the dusting of dark hair on his chest with every movement. The burning knot in your stomach is threatening to come undone.

“You’re gonna cum for me, princesa?” he said as his thrusts grow frantic. “Wanna feel your pussy milk my cock dry. She’s so greedy for my cum. Sucking me in so good I can’t even try to pull out.”

You arch your back as you feel your orgasm rip through you, making you see white for a second. Miguel catches you, an arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders to keep you from falling over as he keeps on rutting into you to chase after his own climax. He pulls you closer to him to capture your mouth into a kiss as you feel his hot cum coat your velvety walls. You moan against his lips, giving his tongue access to your mouth, making you melt in his arms.

You reluctantly pull away to catch your breath, resting your sweaty forehead against his. He coos at how absolutely wrecked you looked, the pretty makeup you did for him all smeared and messed up. The red of your lipstick is no longer on your lips but all over Miguel – on his lips, cheeks, neck, chest, trailing all the way down to the red ring near the base of his cock.

Miguel sets you down on the dining table, hands keeping your knees apart to watch his cum dripping out of your sloppy hole. Your hands grab your breasts, squeezing them together for his viewing pleasure. Miguel moans at the sight. You are so perfect to him.

“I’m going to see your dad again in the office tomorrow,” he says, kneeling in front of your spread legs, ready to eat his dessert. He licks his lips and rubs his large hands up and down your thighs “I’m sure he’s going to have questions. I’ll make sure to tell him how good you were, taking care of me and making me feel so much better.”

He was about to dive in when the doorbell rang. You hear him growl a string of Spanish curse words under his breath as he reluctantly stands up from where he was kneeling. He tries to calm down and you sit up to wipe the sweat and lipstick off his face. You help him put on his shirt, straightening it out as much as you can with your hands as he tucks away his half-hard cock in his sweatpants. You brush his messy hair back away from his forehead, trying to make him look presentable for when he answers the door.

“I’ll be quick,” he sighs, kissing you on your temple as he pulls away and walks out the room. You can’t help but be a little curious as to who is looking for Miguel this late in the evening. You try to stand up, snatching the silk robe you were wearing earlier to peek at the visitor when you hear an all too familiar voice echo in the halls.

“Miguel! You look like shit!” The loud booming voice of your father makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were coming over?” Miguel said, trying to act normal as you hear him letting your dad in. “You should’ve called.”

“Well I did try to but neither you nor my daughter were answering,” he said “Anyway where is she? I brought you guys your favorites for dinner. I’ll even set up the dinner table for you.”

That got you to snap back to reality. Shit, shit, shit!

You start running to your room, careful not to leave a trail of Miguel’s cum on the floor. You try to wash off any traces of sex with a quick shower and change into a simple shirt and unfortunately with a bra and shorts on this time. Can’t have your dad know you parade around the house half-naked for a man twice your age.

Downstairs, Miguel’s boner is fully killed. He didn’t even get to clean you up with his tongue. Shame. Your dad is talking about work stuff but he’s only half-listening. He helps him set the table for your second dinner of the evening, not able to turn down his best friend lest he gets suspicious. He eyes a few white drops on the table and reluctantly wipes it with the hem of his shirt. His eyes meet yours as you enter the room, drying your hair with a towel. You give him a tight-lipped smile before going in to greet your dad.

You have an okay dinner together: Your dad did most of the talking, which is usually what happens between him and Miguel anyway. He also is still under the impression that Miguel was actually sick so he got a pass. You however have to pretend you aren’t annoyed that the night you planned is ruined as you answer his questions about uni.

“No boys? Partners? I told Miguel not to let you bring any around,” he says smugly to which Miguel smirks, taking a sip of the whisky your dad brought over.

“Dad, please,” you groan, sliding down on your chair, which makes him laugh out loud. You steal a glance at Miguel, pouting, and he’s laughing along. Traitor.

“I just wanted to be sure my baby’s focusing on her studies,” he says, putting his hands up in surrender before adding “and that I don’t end up a grandpa too soon.”

They keep laughing but thankfully, Miguel changes the topic. You give him a look of relief and rub your foot on his leg as a silent thank you. He keeps talking to your dad, pretending not to feel your foot stray further up until it rests on his inner thigh, the tip of your toe toying with the outline of his cock. He grabs your ankle but doesn’t stop you. He instead moves to sit a little closer to the table so you can rub the sole of your foot against his clothed length.

You’re playing a dangerous game. Your dad is right there he could look under the table and find his precious daughter giving his best friend a footjob in front of the dinner and alcohol he so graciously brought over. But you were feeling petty about your ruined plans and Miguel doesn’t seem to mind the attention to his cock.

You bite your lip, feeling his cock harden under your touch. He must feel sticky and uncomfortable under his sweatpants after not being able to wipe his dick of your combined fluids when your dad barged in. You wish your dad decides to leave early so you could get on your knees for Miguel and lick him clean.

Miguel eventually excuses himself, coughing that he needs to go to the bathroom, probably to jerk off and shower. You start clearing up the table and your dad offers to help.

“So,” he starts wiping the table “I see the way you look at Miguel.”

You freeze, trying not to drop the stack of plates you’re holding.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You start loading the dishwasher, trying not to make it obvious that your hands are shaking.

“Hey, no need to get defensive. I know what I saw,” he says “And I mean, you’re a young single lady and Miguel is this handsome, cool, older guy that’s a constant in your day-to-day. It’s not wild to have a crush on him. I’m just…”

Silence.

“Sweetie, I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to get hurt when he doesn’t return your feelings,” he sighs as he leans his hip on the counter next to you. He’s trying to look you in the eyes, trying to let you know that he’s being sincere. “Believe me that man has no time for romance. He’s all busy with his work. Plus I’ve seen the women he slept with before. All supermodel looking and yet… well they never last long.”

“Thanks for the confidence boost, dad,” you roll your eyes at him, trying hard to ignore the feeling of wanting to throw up. You don’t want to think about that. About the specifics of what you and Miguel have going on. You’re just trying to enjoy Miguel’s attention right now. For the longest time, you didn’t even think you had the chance. Is it really that bad to just accept what he’s willing to give right now?

“I’m not saying you’re not beautiful, honey! Of course, you’re beautiful! You’re my daughter,” he tries to lighten the mood but turns serious when you don’t laugh. “Just might not be his type. Besides, he’s twice your age. He's too close to your old man’s age. Are you sure that’s something you’d like? In a few years, he’d be just as uncool as me while you’re still young and should be enjoying your life.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder and pulls you into a side hug. You both stay silent for a few moments. You think about Miguel and try to look for signs. Signs that say he just wants sex or that he wants something more. All you can think about is how sweet he always was with you even before you had sex. Even more now. You blush remembering how Miguel peppered your face with kisses this morning to wake you up because he wanted to cook breakfast but didn’t want to leave you in bed.

“Okay, but what if he does?” you countered, suddenly gaining a bit of confidence. “Would you be okay with that? If we get into a relationship?”

A painful few seconds of silence that felt like forever.

“I know that look in your eyes,” he finally says, shaking his head, and sighing. “It’s your “I’m going to get what I want” look you got from your mom. You’re gonna get hurt.”

You cross your arms and pout, never one to back down.

“And if he does end up liking you,” he starts again and you side-eye him “well… good thing he doesn't.”

You groan as your dad messes up your hair, laughing as he sees Miguel come back, fresh from his shower. Your dad finally decides it’s time to head out and let the sick man rest. He gives you a tight hug and a kiss on your forehead before leaving.

You’re left alone with Miguel again in the kitchen. The earlier conversation with your dad soured your mood and left you zoning out. Miguel slips himself between your parted legs as you sit on the kitchen counter, large, warm hands kneading your thighs, fingers slipping under the hem of your shorts.

“What’s on your mind, princesa?” He leans in to press his forehead against yours. “Tell me.”

You try to turn away but he brings a curled finger under your chin to make you face him. His brows are furrowed, worried. You try to look at him and your heart stutters. You don’t want whatever you have with him to end. You’re not sure if you actually want something serious with Miguel but the thought of just being a bedwarmer to Miguel is upsetting.

“Just thinking,” you start, trying to get the words out without sounding jealous or spiteful “My dad said you used to date? Sleep around with? Whatever. The girls you were with before were all… supermodel looking. They’re probably tall and skinny and drop-dead gorgeous huh? Is that your type?”

“And where is this going, nena?” Miguel whispers, pulling away and giving you a stern look.

“Well, I’m just not like that?” you say sheepishly, pursing your lips and shying away from his gaze. “I don’t know why you gave me the chance. I’m just-”

Miguel’s gentle touch on your chin turns into him gripping your cheeks, making you shut up. You nervously look at him, a deep frown on his face.

“Don’t you ever put yourself down, cariño,” he says, his eyes sharp. He makes you keep your eyes on him while he uses his other hand to pull you closer, making you wrap your legs around his waist. “You know, at the start, I offered to let you stay here just because I wanted to mentor you when I had the time. I know you’re a brilliant girl, so intelligent, following in your dad’s footsteps. What I didn’t expect is for you to consume my thoughts day and night for the past few months. You’ve grown into such a beautiful lady, cariño. You are such a temptation, making me think about your pretty eyes looking up so innocently at me. Those lips tempt me every single time you pout at me to get your way.”

He growls, finally letting go of your face to move his hands to your ass. He suddenly bucks his hips against yours making you gasp out loud, your clothed cunt rubbing against his growing bulge. You try to move your hips to gain friction on your throbbing cunt but he keeps you still.

“Don’t even get me started on this body of yours,” he buries his face at the crook of your neck, kissing, licking, nipping at the sensitive flesh making your head roll to the side to give him more access “So perfect for me. Made for me to grab, to fuck, to worship. Dios mio, nena, I can’t get enough of you.”

He sounds drunk from your scent and taste, mouthing at your neck, hands kneading your flesh. He grabs handfuls of the soft fat of your thighs, your ass, your tummy rolls, your plump tits, and back down, committing each curve to memory. You wrap your arms around his neck, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure when he laps at your pulse with his skillful tongue.

“So I don’t wanna hear any of that nonsense comparing yourself to women I didn’t care about then and I sure don’t care about now,” he growls as he picks you up and flips you around. He bends you over the counter, stomach against the cold marble top and the rounded edges digging at the tops of your thighs. Your feet can’t quite reach the floor so you settle for trying to wrap your legs around Miguel’s own. He yanks your shorts and panties down to your knees in one aggressive motion.

“My silly beautiful girl getting jealous over old flings and exes,” he hummed, his large hands massaging your ass, kneading the cheeks, spreading them with his thumbs. “They’re not here anymore, are they? Didn’t work out with them and they’re not in my life anymore. And I prefer it that way.”

You feel him spit on your hole, dripping down to mix with your own wetness. You drop your head onto the countertop, the heated skin on your face making the marble feel icy. He takes your wrists, securing your hands behind your back with his own large hand while his other still massages your ass. Your eyes flutter, enjoying the sensation when you hear a loud smack cut through the momentary silence.

“Mig-” you yelp as you feel a sharp sting on your right ass cheek. His hand goes back to massaging, trying to soothe your reddened skin. You whine as he gives your other cheek the same treatment. Two matching red handprints bloom on both your cheeks.

“You shouldn’t be listening to your dad about my type when I was much younger,” he says, his voice low and serious as he leans down to press his sculpted chest on your back “Because right now there’s nothing I want more than this pequeña prinscesa whose toes can't even reach the floor when I bend her over the kitchen counter. You love that too don't you? How I’m much bigger than you? How easily I can carry you around, bend you over, and fuck you whenever I want? Love folding you in half and using your pretty pussy- no, my pretty pussy. This is mine. Mine to fuck. Mine to breed. Isn’t that right?

You nod enthusiastically not trusting your voice to speak. the words he growls at your ear going straight to your cunt. You feel another hard smack go down your ass, the impact making you slide a bit on the counter. His hands pull you back by the waist to press his erection against your dripping cunt, your wetness soaking through his sweatpants.

“Use your words when you answer me, nena,” he growls, grinding himself against your folds. The friction from the fabric of his sweatpants feels heavenly against your puffy folds.

“Yessss,” you whine, pushing your ass back against him “all yours. Need you to fuck this pussy please, please, please!”

“How can I say no when my baby girl is begging so nicely?” he coos, pulling down his sweatpants to free his cock. He takes it in his hand and presses the tip in. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as your velvety walls welcome him back, still stretched out from your earlier activities.

“Perfect,” Miguel groans as he wastes no time to fuck into your slutty little hole that’s sucking him in so lewdly. “Made for me. Mi princesa needs to learn that no one can compare to her. She’s so perfect. And she’s mine. Only mine. And I am hers.”

“Yo-urs– M-ah, Miguel,” you whimper as he keeps hitting all the right places, his tip hitting your sweet spot with each hard thrust until you’re once again pushed over the edge of sweet release. Your gummy walls contract, milking Miguel’s cock as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. He follows shortly after with a deep moan, his cock coating your insides with his warm seed.

Miguel makes no move to pull out. Instead he peppers your shoulders and neck with kisses, humming in contentment, whispering sweet endearments. Your heart fills with warmth and before you could even think about it, the words just leave your mouth.

“I love you, Miguel”

Silence. Anxiety starts to bubble in your chest as you start to think that you’ve read all the signs wrong. But before you could take it back, Miguel turns you to lie on your back, facing him. He leans down to capture your lips in his, his hands pulling you closer as if he was afraid you’d leave if he lets go. He mumbles “I love you” against your lips over and over again for the rest of the night making sure you never doubt his feelings for you ever again.

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