#so fingers fucking crossed for 22

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

btw september is MY month & it's OVERRR for everybody

[liebelesbe]

now that I'm 22 would anyone like to gay kiss me? 👉👈 🥺

[ghoulphile]

sticky fingers | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.5k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; mildly dubious consent, dirty talk, degradation kink, fingering, squirting, rough sex, size kink, standing doggystyle, overstimulation, teasing, choking, dacryphilia, cooper howard is his own warning (he nasty y'all), canon compliant - takes place around ep 7, a grab bag mix of the show and the games ➥ summary | “Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal.” ➥ notes | i love my men like i love my beef jerky 🫠 i wrote this over 16 fevered hours after finishing the finale. hope you enjoy~ minor edits 4/22/24 | x posted to ao3 | masterlist | feedback is always appreciated ❤️ feel free to send in thots, questions, requests!

It begins, as most things in the Southwest Commonwealth do, with a fight for survival.

City life is tough to be sure, but here on the outskirts of pocket civilizations where there’s nothing but long stretches of desolate wasteland - arid, sunbaked earth and scorched shrubbery - for miles around?

Well, if the ferals, fiends, and super mutants don’t get you in the night, then the desert itself will. During the day the sun burns overhead so nuclear hot, heat glimmers on the horizon in dancing waves.

Unforgiving, relentless as blink-and-you-miss-it mirages are swallowed by ever shifting sands.

It’s easy to get lost.

Even easier to boil alive in your armor if you’re unprepared.

Far too many travelers from the Eastern Commonwealths have met their demise here, where shade is sparse, and water even moreso. The rain - if it does blow in over the mountains - brings rad sickness.

If you’re lucky enough to still be alive, the only reprieve from the heat is in the stooped bones of bombed buildings and ramshackle shacks... where you're just as likely to catch a knife in the back from a chem fried addict as you are relief.

Because here, in the Wastes, danger lurks in sand and shadow alike.

You don’t trek out into the flats half-cocked: a fact all locals know. And if you do decide to? Well, you learn one way or another.

No, only the truly ignorant - or the desperate - dare to tempt man and nature.

Consequently, as you dust off the crumbs from the last half of a Fancy Lads Snack Cake and suck a melted smear of icing from your thumb, you're of the latter half.

You tried holding off for as long as you could. But once the shakes started, you knew you couldn’t put off eating lest you pass out and wake up in a slaver camp.

Well, shit, you think as you rattle a dented canister of purified water. This fucking sucks.

Almost going cross-eyed, your tongue hovers under the rim as you watch the last lazy drop fall free. You catch it with a grimace, smacking your lips. The water tastes metal warm in your sour mouth, barely enough to wet your whistle - let alone your thirst.

You began rationing the last of your supplies days ago, and it’s been a battle against light-headedness ever since. Pretty soon you won’t have the strength to defend yourself, scavving be damned.

Come on. Think - gotta think. What can I scrap for caps?

Not only is Filly more than half a day away, Ma June isn’t one for charity cases. The fact she offered twenty extra caps last time for some burnt books and bent bobby pins was as close as you were ever going to get to a Wasteland miracle.

Sunken cheeks and pleading eyes can only get you so far; everyone’s gotta eat.

"Fuck..." The palms of your hands grind into your eye sockets until you see stars. "FUCK!"

There are two unspoken laws in this otherwise lawless land: steal or starve, live or die. A grim reminder that surrounds you in old bleached bones, empty bullet casings, and scraps of cloth fluttering in the breeze.

Someone always has to be top dog. If you’re lucky, they might be willing to share their spoils.

It’s as you’re considering what pieces of yourself you’re willing to barter that you see them. On the horizon, coming from the west, are two dark blobs.

Stark against the flat plains - a shining beacon of salvation - is a man in a ratty duster and cowboy hat. The saddlebag tossed over his shoulder bounces with his steps while a dog trots beside him, its sable coat rippling with muscle.

Pay dirt.

Making sure to keep low and distant, you stalk them. Watching, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

When the sun dips low, the sky a swath of pale pink and gold, they make camp at a blown-out Drumlin Diner. Off in the distance, thunder rumbles and sickly clouds gather.

Dark and roiling, acid green; a Radstorm brewing.

Electricity cracks at your skin, stands your hair on end. You scrub your hands over your arms, huddling into yourself for warmth. Meanwhile, the stranger seems to luxuriate in the budding promise of rad rain.

He lounges under an awning, his back pressed against a defunct Nuka Cola fridge. He gazes in the direction of the oncoming weather while mindlessly running his fingers through the dog’s fur as it curls up against his legs.

Occasionally, its ears twitch, and its eyes crack open.

Whenever it glances in your direction, you hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut but it never gives any other indication that it notices your presence.

A small mercy you’re thankful for.

While you’re a pretty good shot, your body is weak with hunger. Besides, you have quick hands and light feet. There’s no doubt you can stealth your way in and out before he realizes his pack is lighter than he left it.

You’ll only take what you need - not interested in causing any more trouble than is necessary. Some food, maybe something to drink if he can spare it, and something to pawn. Just enough supplies to get you sorted in Filly.

Anyway, he certainly isn’t hurting for it by the look of things.

Any guilt you felt was short-lived when he settled down after dropping his pack inside, walking out with an inhaler of Jet in one hand and a can of Cram in the other.

Watched, greedy, as he cracked it open and picked at the tin of meat with lazy fingers. Salivated as he sucked them clean in between deep pulls of chem.

Soon, you decide, licking your lips as he chews, swallows. Soon.

However when push comes to shove, the stranger proves far more keen than you give him credit for.

The world spins like a hit of Daytripper, a kaleidoscope of color as your skull bounces off the wall with a loud crack. Air rushes from your lungs as something huge - hot and heavy - slams into you from behind.

Pins you against the wall with ease as your ears ring.

Something rattles loose; your teeth too large and your tongue too thick. Warm metal floods your mouth as the side of your face throbs in time with the rabbit fast stutter of your heartbeat.

Pain sparks and your stomach rolls.

"Wha's?" you slur, thoughts dripping like wax. "Wh-at's..."

Meanwhile, a gloved hand lassos around your throat like a collar. Brute fingers squeeze the tender flesh of your jugular until you hear your pulse in your ears. Senses struggling - sluggish to adjust in the encroaching night - as tiny cavities eat at your vision, little pockets of darkness.

“Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal," a gruff voice mocks. “Betcha thought you was real slick, huh? Tch. You ask me, you’re dumber than shit, Darlin'.”

Trying to regain your bearings, you shake your head only to groan. “I don’t - ‘m not -” It’s difficult to concentrate, a throbbing tempo taking up residence in your temples. The words come slow. “Wha’d you mean?”

He whistles, long and low-pitched, "D’ya have any idea who you're fucking with?"

“N-No…”

“How’s about I show you, then?”

Warm breath puffs over the shell of your ear, a tongue sliding out to trace along the lobe. You jolt, squirming in discomfort as he crowds closer.

“Tasty lil thing like you, wrapped up all nice and pretty just for me." He chuckles. "Why, it must be Christmas.”

What the hell is he talking about?

It’s hard to breathe with his heavy weight suffocating you; the scent of gunpowder and bitter smoke clogging your nostrils with every labored inhale. His lips - ragged - scrape over the nape of your neck.

The grip on your throat squeezes once, twice; leather sticks to your sweaty skin.

You squint your sore eyes, taking in the faint flickers of firelight that spill through the open doorway. The desert chill of night has settled in, creeping through the busted out windows to dig beneath your padded armor.

Thunder rumbles directly overhead as lightning follows in flashes of acid green. It’s only a matter of time before sheets of rain come pouring down; the air sticky with humidity, trembling with energy.

The Radstorm has finally arrived.

You’ll undoubtedly get sick if you leave the shelter of the diner - might even die from it if you can’t afford or find any RadAway. But as the stranger’s chest digs into your shoulders, and the dog curls up in the corner - uncaring of your plight as its nose tucks into the whip-thin tail - you think you’ll take your chances.

Tilting back to glance at him from over your shoulder through damp eyes, you say, “Look--”

Only his hand moves, viper quick, as it slides from the front of your neck to the nape. Strong fingers clamp down like a vice, like scuffing an unruly dog.

He grinds your face into the wall, rough metal shredding your cheek.

You cry out, a soft, pained little thing that echoes through the empty diner.

“Now why’d you gotta go an' make me do that?”

A phantom glimpse told you all you needed to know; broad jaw, thin lips, a hollow nasal ridge, creeping radiation burns and cracked skin. Ghoul.

“Let’s try this again, Sugar.”

His free hand - sans glove - creeps over the curve of your hip to splay along the swell of your belly, fingers tucking up under the hem of your shirt. You shiver at the stroke of roughened skin.

“Don’t take another peep or I might jus' have ta pluck out those pretty eyes of yours.”

Dread pools low in your gut, a leaden ball.

Everything in you screams: RUN, RUN, RUN.

Alarms blare but you freeze. Stare straight ahead at the featureless wall, eyes wide and unseeing. Through the foggy mire of your thoughts - half formed and shapeless - you have enough presence to understand the precarious nature of your position. 

Heart hammering, you plead for mercy, “Please, I’m - I’m sorry.”

"Aw, ain't that real sweet?" He remains impassive, unmoved. "The little thief does got some manners after all."

Without warning, the sharp toe of his cowboy boot kicks apart your feet. In the ensuing empty space between your thighs, his leg slots into place. Spurs dig into the tender meat of your ankle, little kisses of pain, as his hips rut forward against your ass.

You choke on your spit, pulse jumping in your throat.

"H-Hey, that's..." You attempt to shove at any part of him you can reach to no avail. Built and broad with compact muscle, it's like trying to move a brick wall. "I said I was sorry, okay!"

He ignores you, burying his face into the space behind your ear. A deep inhale sounds next to your head, the expansion of his chest against your back so firm you're not sure you won't fuse together.

The whiskey rough groan he releases does wicked things, makes your mind wander to places it shouldn't. Full of grit and gravel as his cock twitches against your backside, a burning line of heat.

A shiver ricochets down your spine.

He grunts, says, "Mm, you smell good enough ta eat."

The cap of his knee nudges up against your clit with a sudden jolt, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and a sob threatens to scrape its way up from the depths of your throat.

You swallow, mouth desert dry. "Come on, let's just forget all about this, yeah?" you reason. "No harm done. I'll even give you whatever I've got left so - so..."

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, the vibration rattling through your chest. "So?" he prompts, plucking at the waistband of your trousers.

"So let me go?"

"Now why would I go an' do an asinine thing like that?" he replies. "If you think you can buy your freedom, think again, Sweetheart."

Rain pings off the metal roof, the smell of pungent ozone and rusting metal wafting in through busted windows and open doors.

“'Sides,” he pauses to turn your attention outside, “I’d hate ta have you yakin’ before the fun’s even started.”

There’s no way to misconstrue his meaning when he punctuates the statement with a teasing rut of his hips. Those rugged fingers tug open the clasp of your trousers, yank until the material goes slack and pools around your ankles.

“Hey, wait--!”

You jolt, hands scrambling for purchase as he slides his leg against your core. The friction of his pants through your thin cotton underwear makes you ache.

Ripping through your bottom lip, blood beading to the surface, you choke on a high-pitched whimper. "I..."

There's no way he can't feel your reaction.

How quickly you're getting wet as he drags you along the length of his thigh while yanking your hips back into the cradle of his pelvis. You meet him in a slow grind that boils your blood and steals the breath from your lungs.

It’s been - shit - far too long since you’ve felt anything other than hunger, thirst; the animal drive to keep pushing forward.

"You like this, don'tcha?"

You hear the dagger-sharp smile hidden in his words.

He croons, "What would your fellow smoothies think, huh? Here you are lettin’ a ghoul get you all hot n bothered - and you’re lovin’ it. Ain't you?"

You throb in response, heat stealing its way into your cheeks as you turn your head away in shame. His dark chuckle lets you know he felt the squeeze of your thighs, the rock and dip of your hips against his knee.

"I - I don't..." you stutter, struggling for a retort. “I’m not--”

A tremble works its way through your body, crushed as you are between the rad warm burn of his body and the wall. Completely at his mercy as you try to figure out where it all went wrong and what you can do to worm your way out of this one.

Terrified of what'll happen if you stay, terrified of what'll happen if you go; stuck in limbo as what was meant to be a simple grab-and-dash devolved into this confusing cluster of shame and lust.

You loathe the embers of desire kindling to life low in your belly.

"You really outta start bein' more honest, Sweetheart."

A large hand dips beneath the worn band of your underwear, and you wait with baited breath. Helpless as calloused fingertips brush over the swell of your mond.

Your inner thighs are uncomfortably sticky with slick, and your eyes burn in humiliation. Your throat trembles around all the words you want to say.

"Didn't anyone teach you lyin' was bad?" he asks rhetorically as his fingers slip down to play with the swollen bud of your clit, tapping lightly.

You keen, low and wounded.

Short nails dig into your palms as you flex your hands for want of something to grab onto.

“I am being honest,” you bite out through grit teeth. Sweat dapples your furrowed brow. “Just lemme go, please.”

"I find that hard ta believe," he replies. "Sorry to say, but you're shit at lyin'. Just look how hungry your lil cunt is for me."

It’s the only warning you get before those long digits plunge deep inside, two becoming three as they stretch you wide. Hollow you out; knuckles massaging your entrance as the tips prod along the sensitive front wall of your cunt.

You clamp down with a strangled moan. “Shit!”

This is a horrible idea - but it’s been forever and a day since you’ve felt anything other than your own touch.

Whether it be the bone-deep loneliness you’ve been shoving down for months or the sudden, inexplicable need for contact, you long for a reminder that you’re still alive.

That you’re not some wrath of the Wasteland filled with sand and blood, doing whatever it takes to survive in a place that would rather see you fail.

“I - I’m not sure.”

He snorts but offers no council or reassurances, using his free hand to yank at the back of your head in impatience. While it might’ve been a fairer fight if you weren’t in such bad shape, there’s no denying that he’s proven himself to be more adept.

Stronger, quicker.

This is going to happen either way.

And that turns you on - even though you feel like it shouldn’t.

If you give in, if he forces you to give in, it’s not really your fault then, is it? You can enjoy it because you have no choice.

Fuck it, you think, closing your eyes and tilting your head to the side in submission.

Like a doll with cut strings, all the fight drains from your body and you’re left sharing space. The ghoul is a furnace of heat behind you, barely any space to breathe he’s crowded so close.

His cock thickens where it digs into the soft fat of your ass, as large and intimidating as the man himself. “Now stay still for me.”

The or else goes unspoken.

Then he’s stepping away, a rush of cold air filling the empty space at your back.

You shiver, tempted to turn around. Maybe make a run for it. The only thing stopping you is the awareness that his threats aren’t so idle. In your experience, it’s far better to befriend the monster than to anger it.

So you comply, waiting an eternity as your senses strain to pick up on anything other than the murmuring hush of rain, the rumble of thunder, as the Radstorm continues to blow its way through.

Though just when you think he might’ve left, ready to chance moving, you hear the clink of a belt buckle clicking open. The scuff of boots across the linoleum before broad hands shove up under your shirt, scarred palms bare as they settle on your hips.

You tense before forcing yourself to relax.

“You ain’t as stupid as I thought,” he says. “Good girl.”

A test.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I can listen,” you mumble, keeping calm as his hands explore the plains of your stomach, pluck at the waistband of your panties. “Promise ‘m not gonna do anything else.”

Learned my lesson the first time. Got my skull cracked open for it.

“That’s what I like ta hear.”

Without warning, your panties are being ripped from you, scraps of fabric fluttering useless to the floor. You squawk in indignation but then a heavy hand settles between your shoulder blades.

He presses down, and you follow without complaint, finding yourself bent in half.

And then the fat head of his cock is right there, teasing at your entrance. He plays with your cunt, slipping the shaft between your wet folds. Dragging up the length of you to tap at your swollen clit.

Jerking in his hold, you whine and try to bear down with all your weight. “Please,” you squirm. “Please, c’mon…”

His grip remains firm, bruising as he exhales next to your ear, a pleased little grumble. “Thatta girl. Now tell me, who’s my pretty lil thief?”

Every hard ridge of his body bites into the softness of yours, your stiff nipples dragging against the rough material of your shirt. Zings of pleasure shoot through you; bursting in your bloodstream, fizzy like warm Nuka Cola.

“I-”

“Go on now, Sweetheart: say it.” Fingers dig into your hips so hard your bones ache. “Or I jus' might be tempted ta take a bite outta your pretty lil backside instead.”

He’s bluffing, you think, half delirious, … Right? He wouldn’t--

You swallow, throat clicking, and squirm against him.

Is that a chance you’re willing to take?

No, no it’s not.

“Y-Yours - I’m - I’m your little thief.”

The unexpected flare of satisfaction in his voice is almost your undoing. A hand pets down your flank, swatting the outside of your thigh playfully.

“Good girl.” He demands, “Say it again.”

Sharp hip bones kick forward against your ass as he lines himself up and starts to bully his way inside.

“I’m - YOURS!”

Your soft, gummy walls flutter, squeeze until giving in with a pop under the hard pressure of the fat head. His cock stretches you out, thick and girthy.

Ridges of scar tissue and patches of rough friction pockmark his shaft, massaging tender places as he fills you up, fucking you open.

He feeds you inch after inch… until he can’t.

“Wait!”

Accommodating his girth is a struggle, your cunt filled to the brim by the time he’s halfway inside. No amount of slick could make him fit, so he makes do with harsh little jerks of his hips. Forces himself deeper and deeper until he glides home nice and smooth, sheathing himself to the base with a sigh of satisfaction.

You clamp down hard with a hiccupy whine, walls furtively trying to push him out. “A-Ah!”

“Goddamn,” he huffs, hands kneading your ass, “You’re a tight fit.”

Tears prick your lash line, your hips shifting as you try to stop him from moving. Begging for a moment of reprieve. You’ve never taken something so big and thick, so textured before.

Coupled with the minimal foreplay, it feels like he’s punched his way through your body. Hollowed you out to make a home for himself.

Pussy aching, a low burning tightness creeps over your lower belly as tender flesh pulses uncomfortably around the unforgiving heft of his cock seated deep inside. You swear you feel him poking your belly button.

“Please,” you pant, heat settling into your cheeks. “J-Just wait a sec-ond! I can’t - oh shit.” 

“Aw, look at you.” Fingers reach around to brush over your cheeks, gather the tears that’ve slipped free. “Didn’t mean ta make you cry,” he lies.

The sound of him sucking his fingers clean reaches your ears. Your stomach swoops, and your clit throbs. Dazed as you wonder what his mouth would feel like on your pussy.

"Hah - too much, you're - fuck - you're too big."

He snickers. “Can’t be helped, I guess.” Body rippling in a shrug, his hands re-settling on your hips. “But that’s all right - I like it better when they cry.”

Before you can retort, he pulls his hips back.

Your toes curl in your boots, feet squeaking across the linoleum floor as your sweaty forehead grinds into the cool metal of the wall. The texture of his shaft burns as it slides through your swollen folds, dragging against sensitive spots you didn’t even know existed.

You can’t tell if it’s the best you’ve ever felt or the worst, but you nearly sob all the same, nerves alight with liquid fire. Want him as deep inside as he can go; a frenzy of desperation that needs him to stuff you so full you choke.

“See for all your whining, you’re takin’ me so well. What did I say about bein' honest?”

You sniffle, blurry eyes creaking open to stare out the window.

Your body throbs in time with your pulse, your pussy so stretched out you can’t clench down when he thrusts in deep. The fat mushroom head teases your cervix, a faint whisper, before he’s drawing back again.

“T-Too fast,” you stutter, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder. Your thighs tremble, knees going soft. “Slow down, slow down.”

“Sh, you can take it. I know you can.”

With a grunt, he surges forward. Wasting no time in starting up a brutal pace that rattles your bones. He drives you hard into the side of the diner; tits crushed and face smashed, a disgusting mixture of tears and drool wetting your cheek.

“Just like that, Sweetheart.”

You do little more than hold on, all thoughts driven from your mind as he fucks you swollen and bruised. Cunt a sticky mess as your slick eases the way, clinging to your inner thighs and dripping down his heavy balls.

Every thrust punches little sounds from you, and he grunts. “Fuck!”

Your hands cling to the sides of his hips, focusing on the shift of muscle beneath heavy fabric. “I can’t,” you slur, eyes cloudy as you glance up into his, gazes meeting for the first time. “Please, I - ah!”

His thrusts turn punishing, even more so than they already were, hips meet your ass with enough force to leave bruises. “What did I say about sneakin' a peek?”

While the words sound threatening, his voice is heated and breathy. For all his talk, he doesn’t look away. In fact, his hips slow into languid rolls, grinding close. When your eyes slide from his, he reaches down to pinch your clit between his fingers.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chides. “You keep those eyes on me.”

Pretty, you think, dazed.

Glinting in the slants of firelight like wet sand or a Nuka Cola bottle in the sun; bourbon warm as they peer at you from beneath a heavy brow bone.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl."

Eyes fluttering when he flexes his hips in reward, the tip massaging along your g-spot, your mouth drops open on a whine.

“O-Oh! Right there, I - fuck, please don’t stop. ‘m so close.” F-Feels s'good.

His bare hand reaches up to curl around your jaw, gnarled fingers pushing their way past the open circle of your swollen lips. They compress your tongue as they gather saliva, stroking along your tastebuds.

Gritty, rough; he tastes of dirt, blood, and gunpowder.

You sneak a kiss to his scarred knuckle when he pulls free.

“Shit, I’ll be damned. You’re just a nasty lil freak, ain't you?”

You moan in response, stretching up on your tip-toes and arching your hips to change the angle. Your palms rest beside your head, docile.

A crazed grin cracks the corners of his lips, his teeth bared like an animal. “I like that,” he husks. “Now be a peach…”

Then those soaked digits are finding their way between your thighs, ghosting over your skin to smear spit onto your abused clit. The tender bud throbs beneath his fingertips, swollen and begging for attention.

He hitches his hips forward to feel you jerk, pulsing beneath his touch as he resumes a fast, jolting pace that has you smacking into the wall.

“And cum for me.”

A deep rumble escapes his throat, the sloppy, wet sounds of him fucking you ringing loud in your ears. Your hips roll, unsure if you want to press forward into the swirl of his fingers or back into the rut of his cock.

Tears stream down your cheeks, your chest heaving with weak sobs.

“Please,” you whine, his shaft pinching your walls uncomfortably. You feel swollen, rubbed raw. “A-Almost there.”

A nip to the ear is all it takes.

“Hhaah, I’m--!”

The liquid heat that’s been pooling low in your belly - building and building - finally bursts in a gush of slick that soaks his hand. Darkens the crotch of his pants as it drips down your thighs to splash against the tile.

You sob, a full body tremor zipping through you like bottled lightening.

In the aftermath, your cunt twitches in time with your heartbeat. Hands numb and head full of cotton as cramps bloom between your hips. Sharp little stabs shoot up behind your navel.

“Shit, I’ve got myself a gusher,” he laughs, a nasty little smirk tugging at his lips. “Look at the mess you made. Now if you ask real sweet-like, maybe I’ll let you clean it up with your tongue.”

You sag, too boneless to be ashamed as electric aftershocks tingle along your nerves. All the while, his pace never falters, quickly fucking you into overstimulation.

Your clit twitches pathetically when the fat head of his cock drags along your g-spot. "No more," you mumble weakly, letting him maneuver your body how he likes. "Please."

“Heh, let’s see if you can do that again.”

You whimper, “Oh, oh, please n-no. I - I can’t. You’ll break me.”

“That’s real cute,” his lips, harsh and rasping, drag over the shell of your ear, “but I wasn’t askin’.”

The grip on your hips tightens to the point of pain, digging in and marking you up.

“Now, why don’ we have some real fun, Darlin'?”

[aurorawritestoescape]

JOEL’S VISIT | Bad Blood Extra | 3,8k

Summary: Joel pays you a visit and makes your night unforgettable.

Tw: +18, mdni, smut, step-cest, big age gap (reader is 22, Joel is in his late 40s), step uncle!Joel is a warning in himself, stepdad Tommy makes an appearance (kinda), fingering, ass play, anal, sex toy, spit as lube, pussy slapping, cum eating, creampie, degradation kink, praise kink, alcohol consumption, swearing.

A/n: written as a naughty bday present for my love @milla-frenchy 🥳 happy birthday, baby!😘🩷 ILY! Hope you’ll enjoy my little gift❤️ and Joel’s huge gift🍆🍑😏

Pics are only for the mood. Reader has no specific physical description. Reader wears a skirt. Dividers by @strangergraphics-archive

Series Masterlist || MASTERLIST || Milla’s MASTERLIST

You step into your favorite bar in your college town and search for him. You notice the familiar broad shoulders far away from the crowd and saunter there, on the way turning heads of the other patrons but you don’t care about them. As if by a magnet you’re being pulled to the man, who’s sipping whiskey in a dark corner booth. Joel Miller.

You hate to admit it but you really missed the fucker. Missed his rough hands, his dirty words, his assholish attitude. No one else can make your blood boil like that but the hate you often feel towards him morphs into passion so fast that you wonder if your relationship is meant to be. As toxic as they are, you've never felt such a strong pull towards anyone. Except your stepdad Tommy of course.

Right now Joel’s in the dog house. You’re still fuming over his intention to fuck someone with the hard on YOU gave him. So you don’t sit next to him and instead settle in front of the man at the booth.

Joel looks up from his drink and a smirk tugs at his lips, shining with drops of whiskey.

“Hey, uncle Joel,” you greet him with a reserved smile. He’s wearing a denim vest with a white tank top underneath and his huge arms make your heart skip a beat. Why does he always look so delicious?

“Hello, angel.”

His eyes slide down to your lips and then cleavage, with your tits almost spilling out of your top by design. He adjusts himself before asking,

“Doncha wanna give your favourite uncle a kiss?”

“Not really,” you reply as your eyes are boring into him.

He huffs a laugh and rubs his scruffy cheek.

“Being a cold bitch doesn’t suit you, baby. I prefer you needy and with my cock between your pretty lips.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, but your mouth waters at his words.

“It’s a health issue, Joel. I don’t wanna catch anything after you fucked every hole in Austin.”

Joel’s brows rise up and he leans forward, planting his elbows on the table. Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you ogle his arms and shoulders.

“Oh, little slut’s jealous.”

You cross your arms making your breasts almost jump out of your top and lie,

“No, I‘m not.”

He narrows his eyes at you and takes a sip of his whiskey before talking again.

“Here’s a thing, angel. You can keep Tommy’s balls in a cute box under your bed. I don’t care. But ya definitely not getting mine.”

You scoff and he leans back against the seat.

“So let’s make it clear— I fuck whoever I want whenever I want.”

You clench your jaws as anger and jealousy squeeze your throat.

For some time you two sit in silence, the air between you electrified and heavy.

Finally Joel gets up with a grunt and you look up at him scared that he might leave, abandon you, but to your relief he comes up to your seat and plops down next to you. He turns to you slightly and puts his huge arm on the backrest behind you. He’s so close that it feels like a hug. His scent immediately envelops you and you gush as if on command.

“Look at me,” Joel gruffs but you keep staring ahead of yourself.

“Look. At. Me.”

The steel in his rumbling voice makes you throb and you turn your face to him, hiding your true emotions, your expression angry and cold.

“I’ve had a shitty day, angel. Don’t make it worse.”

He sounds serious and you furrow your brows with worry.

“What happened?”

Joel grabs his drink and finishes it. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand and talks to the empty glass.

”Paid Jess a visit today. Tommy left some stuff at your… her house.”

“Why didn’t he go himself?” you ask, feeling a pang of sadness that Tommy didn’t tell you anything.

Joel laughs.

“I don’t think he wants to meet your dear mother. He fucked her daughter on their marital bed. She ain’t exactly waiting for him there with open arms.”

“And you? I’m sure she wasn’t happy to see you either.”

“I don’t give a fuck. The bitch can curse me out all she wants. Tommy’s just too good of a guy. Feels bad.”

“Whatever,” you grumble.

Your gaze drops and you sit quietly, deep in your thoughts. Does Tommy feel bad about what happened? If so does he regret your relationship? Does he regret you?

“Hey,” Joel calls and you immediately look up at him, noticing a trace of softness in his voice. “Tommy asked me to give you something.”

“What?”

Joel turns to you more, his thigh presses against yours, and he brings his hand to your jaw. He pinches your chin and slowly leans down.

You slightly open your mouth, welcoming him, and he kisses you. In a second he’s licking into your mouth with passion, claiming you in front of everyone, and you melt, tasting whiskey and cigarettes on his hot tongue. He grabs the back of your head and devours your mouth, swallowing your needy whimpers as his other hand settles on your bare thigh, close to your naked pussy under the short skirt. He squeezes your leg and, feeling how much he wants you, you gush more. Your soft moans are drowned in a sea of chatter and music at the bar. It takes just a few seconds of this, of him, to make your pussy uncomfortably wet. Your core is crying for more and you open your legs wider, signaling him to touch you.

Joel’s plush lips part from yours as he mumbles,

“Here’s my needy slut.”

You reply with a flirty smile and press your body closer to his.

“Take me to a motel. Want you to fuck me like one of your cheap hookers.”

You drag your nose up his neck and Joel groans, roughly kneading your thigh.

“My sweet niece needs to get railed, uh? Dontcha have some fuck boy on standby at your dorm?

“I don’t cheat on daddy,” you whisper against his neck.

“Oh?”

”It’s ok if it’s you. It’s different.”

Joel huffs and then his expression gets serious.

”I can’t do motel today, baby. Need to get going.”

“Already?” you whine, pouting your lips.

“Yeah. Have work tomorrow. And if I get you all to myself in a room I won’t be able to stop fucking ya for at least a week.”

You smile and playfully bite the skin of his neck, before purring, “Sounds good.”

Your pussy is tingling for him and you desperately need to alleviate the ache.

“Please, Joel,” you sit straight and plead, batting your lashes at him. “I miss your big cock so much.”

Joel's wolfish grin makes your clit throb with the beat of your heart. Your tactics seem to work because he adjusts his big bulge and groans,

“My truck. Now.”

You can’t get up fast enough and then hurry to the exit, feeling Joel’s eyes on your swaying ass.

The parking lot is dark, illuminated only by one street light, and almost empty except for a few cars. Joel motions to his truck and you shiver when you walk there but not because of the cold. The culprit is an anticipation of his hands on your body, his cock deep inside you.

Before getting in you stop with your back to your step uncle.

”Wanna show you something.”

You bend over slightly and then lift your skirt. He sees your bare ass and you hear a whistle.

“Juicy.” He grabs your asscheeks but you swat his hands away.

“No, Joel. Wait.“

You push your ass out and spread your cheeks so he could see a pink jeweled butt plug, shaped like a heart.

“Fuck, angel, this for me? Been training your ass to take my big dick?

“Yeah. I thought you might miss it.”

You sigh when he presses his whole frame to yours. His big hands start kneading your naked cheeks and he licks the side of your neck and sucks a hickey into your delicate skin.

“Tommy asked me to leave this as a message for everyone.”

“What’s the message?” You breathe out, grinding your butt against Joel’s bulge.

“This pussy‘s taken. You’re ours.”

You moan, reveling in the possessiveness of the brothers and the sensation of Joel’s heavy body, pressing you against the truck, and you’re slowly but surely drenching your inner thighs. Soon the need overtakes any pride you have left.

“Fuck me, Joel. Fuck my ass. Please.”

“Sure, angel,” he growls, taking a step back, and pulls you off the truck. ”Inside. On your back.”

You do as you’re told, drunk with desire and excitement, and lie down on the faux leather seat at the back of the car. Joel settles between your thighs and throws your left ankle on his shoulder, opening you up for him.

“You often fuck here?” you ask, noticing how fast he found a comfortable position.

He replies with a smirk, “No, only on special occasions.”

You shoot him a playful wink.

“Aww. I’m flattered.”

“Ya should be. I’ll probably spend ages cleaning everything off your slick, little slut.”

“Fuck you,” you giggle and spread your thighs wider, as he grabs your hips and lifts them a little.

The hem of your skirt slides to your waist and Joel leers at your exposed pussy. In the almost dark car his eyes are glinting like those of a predator in a night forest. Your breath hitches as you marvel at his handsome features, accentuated by the dim yellow glow from the outside.

Joel seems to be mesmerized by you too.

“Here she is. Wet little pussy.”

He covers your cunt with his big hand and you shiver when his warm palm squeezes your cold folds.

A gasp crawls up your throat as Joel begins playing with your slippery cunt, drawing soft moans from you—he slides his fingers over your lips, massages your mound, lightly grazes your eager clit and when he lowers his hand and brushes the pink heart of your butt plug, you buck your hips, calling for him to take you.

His light ministrations feel so good you might cry but they are not enough to satiate your thirst so you yank the neckline of your top down and start kneading your naked breasts.

“Fuck, angel, never met anyone this horny and cock hungry.”

You don’t reply, fully lost in the sensations, but Joel demands your attention by flicking your clit and you cry out as a jolt of pain mixed with pleasure shoots through your body.

“Joelllll,” you whine but then a hazy smile blooms on your face and your step uncle notices it.

“How could I forget that my little niece likes a lil bit of pain with her pleasure? Dirty fucking girl.”

You smirk and Joel continues,

“I see you clenching your holes, baby. That pretty plug of yours nearly jumped out of your asshole. Let’s make it dance.”

Suddenly he slaps your pussy with an open palm and you whine,

“Fuck, Joel.” Your body jerks and all your muscles contract. His hot palm lands on your blooming cunt again and again, the strokes light but precise and sharp. Your soft moans fill the truck, sometimes interrupted by Joel’s encouragement.

“Doing good, angel— ya know ya deserve it—look at ya asshole sucking in the plug— your pussy’s winking at me—can ya come like that, baby?”

Through the lustful fog in your head, you barely register what he wants from you but when you do, your fingers start twitching your nipples, pushing yourself closer to the edge.

Slap—slap—slap, Joel spanks your slicked puffy folds and when his wet hand hits your clit just right, you cry out. Your head dips into the seat, your back arches as you come undone from Joel’s rough caress and he praises,

“Yeah, like that, angel. Good fucking slut.”

It takes you some time to stop trembling and when your limbs and body relax, you find Joel’s obsidian eyes drinking in every sign of your ecstasy.

“That was…Wow. Never came from spanking before.”

“‘s weird considering what a bratty bitch you can be. I’d think every second lover wants to slap your cunt.”

You smirk and flutter your eyes shut, still melting after experiencing such an incredible pleasure.

But they immediately snap open when you feel your butt plug move. You see Joel’s eyes glued to your puckered hole, held open by the jeweled toy.

“Joel?” Your voice is strained by the overwhelming sensation of the plug shifting its position inside you and you lift yourself on your elbows to see what he’s doing.

“I really missed your tight hole, angel. Very. Much.”

Joel empathizes each word by moving the plug in and out of your asshole. It glides smoothly, covered with lube and now your slick. You bite your lip, and whimper at the sight and feeling of your tight hole, stretching around the shiny head of the plug and then clamping around its base.

“Damn,” Joel mumbles to himself, as his fingers leave the plug and he begins unbuckling his belt. “Your asshole‘s drenched by your needy pussy. Might do without lube.”

“Yeah, Joel, fuck me raw. ‘s ok if it burns a little.”

“Shit, angel. Naughty slut. Look what ya doing to me.”

Joel unzips his jeans and tugs them down and your eyes are graced with the sight of his huge hard cock. The tip looks like a fat shiny lollipop and you almost drool seeing it bob over your naked cunt.

“Let’s replace the toy with something better, baby”.

Joel’s hand confidently wraps around the base of his stiff manhood while the other pulls on the plug. Your asshole clenches around it tightly, not letting it go, but Joel slowly slides it out and your ring closes.

Your chest is heaving with a mixture of excitement and nerves as Joel slides his cock between your soaked folds, wetting it, and then nudges your asshole with his leaking tip. He pushes in and you take a deep breath to relax but your hole is too tight.

“C’mon, little slut, relax for me.”

”Yeah,” you nod obediently and lie back down, looking up and trying to relax your muscles.

”‘s like that, open up for me, angel. You’ve taken me before.”

“Yeah, but … when I took your huge dick Tommy was there. He knows how to make me relax.”

You find Joel’s obsidian eyes, and then look down at his lips. The man scoffs.

“I ain’t gonna smooch ya forehead, baby. And ‘good girl’ for sure ain’t about you, little slut. So let’s try something else.”

Suddenly you feel Joel’s cock bump into your hardened clit. You whimper, hazy eyes locked with Joel’s, and he drops his head and starts drawing circles over your sensitive bud with his slippery tip.

“Ya like when I do this?”

”Yeah.”

“Good, breathe, baby. Unclench for me. Uncle wants to ruin your tight ass.”

He’s swirling your clit for some time and when the sensation of him, massaging your pussy, brings you close to the second climax, he slides his cock down to your crack and pushes into your tight ring.

With a gasp you feel your asshole give in as he inserts his mushroom head inside your ass, slowly but assertively. Your nails dig into the faux leather of the seat while Joel groans and closes his eyes and you watch his handsome weathered face twist in pleasure.

“Fuckkk,“ he growls and your heart sings, seeing him enjoy your body that much. Not minding the dull pain and the feeling of fullness, you whisper,

“Deeper, Joel. Want your whole cock in my ass.”

He opens his eyes and smirks at you,

“‘Course, angel. Gonna use you so good, you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

His promise should probably make you nervous but lust has completely taken over your body and mind so you bend your legs and press them to your sides, submitting your body to him like an offering.

Joel’s huge hands grab your asscheeks, he spreads them and holds you open before rolling his hips, pushing his cock deeper into you.

He’s grunting and groaning while you’re breathing in and out steadily, opening up for him more and more. Letting him claim the deepest part of you.

Soon Joel bottoms out with a satisfied sigh and stops his movement.

“Look at that, angel. My dick’s fully inside ya ass.” His eyes are focused on the place where he’s sheathed inside you. ”Fuck, I’m so happy Tommy married your mother. It brought me here.”

He chuckles and drops his head back in pleasure and you lift on your elbows to see the way you are joined and watch your asshole flex around the base of his cock.

“Yeah, glad we met, Joel. Now can you please move?” You whine, desperately needing more. Joel doesn’t make you wait- he grabs your hips tighter and slowly pulls his cock out almost to the tip and then slams it back inside as you moan and grab onto the seat.

He starts off slow, rhythmically moving his stiffness inside your ass, then pulls out his glistening shaft half way out of you, spits on it, and plunges back in your canal. You moan as the wetness adds to the pleasure, coursing through your body, and soon your sweet sounds and Joel’s groans fill the inside of the truck.

You whine your step uncle’s name and your hand slithers down to your cunt.

“What is it, little slut? Aw, your needy pussy’s lonely,huh?”Joel mocks, through gritted teeth, and you gloat inside thinking that he must have a real hard time trying not to burst inside you.

But you decide to be a good girl for him so you bite your lip, pull your eyebrows together and nod.

“You’re cute, let’s fill your sloppy hole too then.”

Joel leans down and brings his index and middle fingers to your mouth.

“Make ‘em all nice and wet, angel.”

You smile and take his thick digits between your lips and lick them, glide your tongue over his skin, coating it in your saliva.

When Joel decides it’s enough, he pulls them out and straightens, slowing down his thrusts.

With his cock deep in your ass, he pushes two of his fingers into your crying pussy and you both watch both of your holes being spread wide around Joel.

“Fuck, I’m so full. Your fingers are like another cock inside me.”

“Ya welcome,” he mumbles and starts fucking both of your entrances— your ass with his cock, your pussy with his hand.

If you were enjoying yourself before now you’re in heaven.

“Yes, Joel, don’t stop,” you moan and the man growls in response. His thick and long cock in your ass takes so much room that your pussy channel feels tighter, his fingers stimulate you so much better, that in no time your walls start contracting around his fingers. Squelching sounds of your weeping cunt makes Joel fuck into your holes faster and soon you unravel under his ministrations, crying out his name and arching your back off the seat. You’re trembling all over, cock dumb, pleasure drunk, biting your puffy lips and leaving scratches on the seat.

When you relax and melt under the man, he pulls his fingers out of your pussy, and slowly thrusting into your ass, lets you clean them up.

”Lick it off, angel, be a good girl.”

You lazily taste yourself and then he covers your body with his, pressing you into the seat, his hips flush with your asscheeks.

“Gonna come soon, baby. Gimme some sugar.”

With that he kisses you passionately and begins hammering into your ass, reaching the deepest spot inside you, feverishly chasing his climax.

Seizing this moment of unity with him, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hold him tight, while your tongues are moving against each other. You’re gladly letting him take everything from you and soon his muscles tense under your touch and he makes a few hard thrusts and then moans into your mouth and begins spurting ropes of hot cum inside you. He’s filling you up to the brim, his throbbing cock moving in and out of your tight canal, pushing his cum deeper into your stretched ass.

You’re nuzzling his cheek, tasting his skin with your tongue, and the overwhelming feelings in your chest make you forget your complicated relationship with the man stuffing you so well and you purr his name into his ear, softly, gently, pouring so much into these four letters. Joel locks eyes with you, while his cock still twitches inside you from time to time.

His gaze is relaxed, soft and satisfied, rid of the usual sharpness, mockery, guard.

Your throat squeezes and your breath hitches when you realize that you’re staring at someone else, someone deep inside Joel you know and before he disappears, hides behind the wall, you kiss him gently, hug him close, and he gives you all of that back.

A few minutes later Joel’s tucking his cock back into his jeans, groaning about your slick and scratches all over the seat. The asshole is back.

“Maybe ya wanna lick off your mess, angel?”

“Fuck off,” you snap, fixing your clothes, and then get into the front of the truck and carefully sit down on the passenger seat. Your ass is sore and plugged up again with Joel’s cum inside. ”A warm farewell gift for ya,” he laughed.

“Going raw was a mistake,” you complain with a hiss and watch him get behind the wheel with a lit cigarette between his lips.

“Take me to the dorm,” you command and Joel glares at you without moving.

“Please, uncle Joel,” you bat your lashes with exaggeration and he starts the car.

You immediately take out your phone and call Tommy.

“Hey, baby.”

“Daddy! Guess who just fucked my ass!” You chirp with excitement into the speaker.

You hear Tommy chuckling, Joel curses and smiles at you.

“I need the details, baby.”

You give Joel a wink and start talking.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

SERIES MASTERLIST I MASTERLIST | Milla’s MASTERLIST

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[peachsukii]

₊✩‧₊◜ thinking about reader and bakugo’s intense “I’m home!” sex after he gets back from a month long mission. (follow up to this!!)

『 ♡ - k.bakugo x fem!reader 』 ꒰ tags & content ꒱ 18+ MDNI! masturbation, mentions of phone sex, toy usage (vibrator), praise, light dom/sub dynamic, pet names (baby, peach, sweets, good girl, princess - one mention of slut and whore but affectionately!), fingering, minor roleplay (bakugo in his hero gear & reader wears his mask), oral (blowjob), facial, cum eating, lots of dirty talk, nipple play, marking - biting/scratching, a sprinkle of choking, hair pulling, rough sex, overstimulation, creampie, aaand fluff! aged up characters to 22. ⋆ ˚ʚɞ — i didn’t expect this to be as long as it is, buuuut i had a lot of ideas of what they did when he came home...so there's a lot. what can i say? y'all missed each other! the smut immediately starts under the cut and does not stop until the end! 😵‍💫 ｡‧˚ʚ cross-posted to ao3 | word count; ~3.7k ɞ˚‧｡ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist

It's been a long month without Katuski being home. You've done everything you can think of to keep yourself busy while he's been away - played games, read books, hung out with friends and worked overtime to make the days fly by. You called each other day and night, talking for as long as his assignments for the day allowed. Thankfully, they gave him his own room as an accommodation and didn't have to worry about sharing with anyone else.

Boy, did that come in handy.

You two are not shy and foreign to phone sex of all kinds, it was something you actually talked him into doing when you're apart longer than a week for work. FaceTime, voice notes, sexting; the full gambit. You had a private collection on your phone with all his voice notes that he'd sent to you over the years. You used it as "material" for when you're alone.

One folder was all for praise - "that’s my good girl," "go slow sweets, I wanna watch ya take every inch of me," "you’re so cute when you’re begging on your knees, baby," "love watching your soft lips wrap around my cock," "your moans are so fuckin’ pretty, peach," “god, y’have no fuckin’ idea how goddamn wild you drive me,” and more snippets of him coaxing you along to get you off.

The second folder? That was your sacred treasure trove. There were only three files, but they were some of the hottest things Katuski's ever graced you with. They were 10 minute audio clips of him jerking off to the thought of you, vocalizing every detail. Thank god for advanced technology because it allowed you to hear every mumbled ‘fuck’ under his breath, hushed grunts and audible shudders.

You didn’t have any other plans for the day - listening to your boyfriend’s sexy voice while you test out a new vibrator sounded like the perfect solution!

Stripping out of your clothes, you grab a t-shirt from his dresser and throw it over your naked body. It loosely drapes over the top of your thighs, barely hiding the fact you’re not wearing any panties. You grab the vibrator from your nightstand and lay in bed, phone nestled into the pillow next to your head. You decide to choose one of the three files at random. Before you even hit play, your face is flushed and heart is threatening to burst through your ribcage. It doesn’t take long for you to succumb to the gratification, getting lost in his husky moans and the hum of the vibrator.

You’re too busy to notice that the apartment’s front door has opened, along with the commotion of Katsuki dropping his bags in the doorway. He doesn’t say anything as he’s taking off his boots, assuming you could be taking a nap or had headphones on if you didn’t come skipping down the hallway. He didn't tell you he was coming home two days early and wanted to surprise you!

What a surprise it was for him to hear subtle mewls coming from your joint bedroom, immediately catching his attention. He was still in his hero gear, minus his gloves and gauntlets, with his mask settled into his hairline like a headband. As quiet as possible, he tip toes down the hall and peeks around the doorframe. He could hear faint audio playing and a buzzing noise, but couldn’t make out what it was until he got to the doorway.

When he peeked through the crack in the door, his dick throbbed violently as it tented his cargo pants. The sight of you sprawled out on the bed, viciously fucking your new vibrator in nothing but his t-shirt was hot as hell. And you were listening to...his voice notes? He was entranced by your delicious moans and how your legs twitched when the vibrator hit your swollen clit. Part of him jokingly thought you didn’t even need him right now, since you technically did have a version of him, but his selfishness took over instead.

Willpower be damned, he needed you. Now. It took everything in him not to pounce on you right then and there.

Katsuki retreats to the living room and sits on the couch, desperately fighting the urge to start playing with himself to the sound of you doing the same. Instead, he pulls out his phone and clicks on your name to call you. He could hear your phone’s audio shift from his own voice to your ringtone, a startled yelp escaping you.

“H-hey babe,” You answer, panting quietly. “What’s up?”

He almost bursts out into laughter, but keeps it together enough for his little charade.

“Everythin' alright? Ya sound outta breath,” Katsuki teases, but decides to get to the point. “Eh, fuck it. Come into the living room.”

He hangs up and hears your feet padding against the wooden floor instantaneously. Within seconds, you slide into view, overjoyed that he’s home.

“Kats!” You squeal, scrambling over to the couch and jumping into his lap. You’re peppering his lips, neck, cheeks and forehead with rapid fire kisses, giggling as he tries to still your movements to pull you into a warm hug. He nuzzles his face into your neck lovingly, returning your kisses tenfold.

Your excitement briefly makes you forget that you were just in the middle of pleasuring yourself before rushing to greet him. The realization catches up to you when you fully sit on his lap, his erection teasing your exposed slit. A heat pools in your gut at the thought of him catching you in the act - he heard you.

“Sorry for interrupting,” Katsuki says, hands gliding up your bare thighs and grabbing a handful of your ass, grinding your center against his own. The secondary contact causes a gasp to fall from your lips. You don’t respond verbally but lift yourself away from his lap, creating enough space between you two.

“What're ya-,” he’s cut off by you taking his right hand off of your ass and tucking his fingers against your soaked entrance. You take two digits and lower yourself onto them, coating his fingers in all your built up slick.

“I missed you,” you whine as he flexes inside you instinctually, petting your walls with his coarse finger pads. You start to move on your own, gripping his shoulders and riding his fingers to finish the job you started in the bedroom.

Katsuki is speechless, not even a witty remark coming to mind to tease you. His face burns hot when the sounds of your juices sloshing around his fingers fill the room, a heat creeping up the back of his neck. Since you previously wound yourself up, it doesn’t take long until you’re ready to explode. Your eyes are threatening to roll back into your head as you swirl your hips on his fingers. His entire being is pulsing with need as he begins to drills his fingers into you, knuckle deep, and drinks in all your breathy moans. The string in your belly is pulled taut - tighter than its been in the last month, snapping with an intensity that leaves your thighs quivering within seconds.

You come all over his fingers, down his hand and stain the crotch of his cargo pants.

“Hah, good thing they’re getting washed,” you joke breathlessly as you go to kiss Katsuki but stops you - he shocks you with something he’s never done before.

He retracts his fingers from your drenched cunt and swiftly smears it all over your lips before capturing them with his own, sharing your tangy release in ecstasy. He licks your bottom lip before sitting back, breaking the kiss and settling the two fingers back to your mouth. Your lips part ever so slightly at the pressure.

“Don’t ya think you taste divine?” He smirks as he watches you open your mouth invitingly, lazily sucking his fingers covered with your spend. You don't break eye contact with him the entire time, heavily panting like a dog in heat as your tongue leisurely trails the length of each finger. A thin string of saliva sticks to the corner of your mouth as you pull away from his fingers with a soft pop of your lips.

You reach for his mask in his hairline, pushing it back to fall into your grasp. Untying the small knot, you bring it to your own face and secure it around your eyes - just like he wears on patrol. Katsuki's giving you a curious look as you slide off his lap and kneel to the floor.

Oh fuck-

Putting your hands to his hips, you drag your fingers to the hem of his pants - he's scrambling to undo his belt while you yank everything to his ankles. His cock springs forward, bouncing off his clothed abs as it’s freed from the confines of his boxers. You can tell he’s aching for you to touch him, tip leaking pre-spend and blazing hot to the touch. With no hesitation, you edge his entire length into your mouth, tongue sliding delicately along the underside of his shaft and consuming every drop of him.

“F-fuck peach, should'a let you wear my mask ages ago,” Katsuki stutters, thighs trembling at the sight your lips enclosed around him. “’m not gonna…last long watchin’ ya like this.”

You start to slither your tongue around his length, subtly hollowing your cheeks and barely moving an inch. His tip hits the back of your throat as he grabs your hair, shoving you all the way to the base and meeting his soft blonde wisps with your nose. He's unable to control himself - your mouth just feels too good around his cock right now. Katsuki’s only known his own fist for the last month, you’re making him feel like a blushing virgin all over again with how fast he’s accelerating toward his orgasm. You’ve hardly touched - well, blown - him and he's ready to combust.

His grunts have morphed into higher pitched moans as he’s bucking his hips off the couch into your mouth in tandem with your own movements, ferociously chasing the building heat in his gut.

“S-shit, fuck fuck fuck!” he yells while ripping your lips off of him by your hair, endless hot ropes of cum painting your pretty face. His mask, your cheeks, lips, and chin are dripping with white, each droplet slowly making it's way to your jawline. The sight is enough to almost make him come a second time, needing to throw his head back on the couch to avoid eye contact momentarily and pull himself together.

You hum with satisfaction and rise from your knees, straddling him on the couch once more. In the heat of the moment, you grab him by the jaw and plant a messy kiss on his lips, smearing his paintjob in the process. In the lusty haze, he doesn't give a shit that you mimicked his actions. Honestly? He kinda liked his own flavor - it complimented your own, dancing together on his tongue.

“Don’t you think you taste divine?” you purr, repeating his sentiment and licking some of the smeared cum off his cheek. You untie the mask and let it drop from your face, realizing that you may have just ruined his professional hero gear. “This…is washable, right?”

Katsuki laughs. “Yeah, don’t worry ‘bout it. 's gotta be with how dirty hero work gets.”

The two of you get up from the couch and walk to the bathroom to clean up. Once he’s done soaking a wash cloth with warm water, you’re taking his place and bending over the counter to rinse the remnants of his facial from your skin.

Lucky for him, you’re still not wearing any panties. And bent over like that? Your ass and pussy are on full display, still glistening from your previous orgasm.

Katsuki crouches to the ground, kneeling behind you and bites your bare ass with a huff. The sensation makes you jump, water splashing all over the counter and collar of your shirt.

“Katsuki!” You yelp, shutting off the water and blindly reaching for a towel nearby. “You’re insatiable.”

“Like you’re complaining.”

His tongue then traces from the inside of your thigh and stops just shy of your center, a shudder of anticipation wracking your body.

“You’re playing with fire, Kat,” you warn, spinning around and lifting your leg, placing a foot on his shoulder to teasingly show off your messy core. His eyes dart up to meet yours, a salacious grin settling on across his lips.

“Then fuckin’ light me up, princess.”

Something in you snaps - an unexplainable strong hunger captivating your mind. You wanted him to absolutely obliterate you in any and every way possible.

Everything happens in a flash - remaining clothes are strewn across the floor, bodies pressed against the plush of the sheets when you fall against the bed, tangled and relishing in the bare skin contact. The sensation kindles the fire in your veins, begging for more of him - all of him.

"K-Katsuki," you whimper onto his lips, breathless between frenzied kisses. "I want - no, need - you to fuck me like you hate my guts."

Your lascivious request has Katsuki's head swimming in a lewd sea of thoughts, gritting his teeth to hold back the ravenous desire. He can’t help but fist himself in response before leering over you.

“Oh, is that how you wanna play this game, baby?” He growls into the shell of your ear, squishing you further into the mattress. "Want me to use you like a fuckin' toy, eh? Poundin' away at your tight-ass cunt 'til ya can't take it?"

You're too enraptured by the promise swirling in your head to form any logical thoughts as his hands travel to your breast between your bodies, palms blistering hot to the touch as he tweaks your nipple. "When ya can't walk tomorrow, jus' remember y'asked me for this."

The incoherent whine that escapes you is involuntary, a raw reaction to his words. You hear a pleased hum rise from Katsuki's throat as he towers over you once more. He places a few tender kisses to your neck before he fiendishly groans, "I'm gonna fuckin' wreck you."

Not a second passes before his canines are puncturing your delicate skin, threatening to draw blood with how deep he's sinking into the bite on your jugular. Katsuki releases only to keep biting anywhere he could latch on to as he roamed your body - your neck, breasts, collarbone, shoulder, nipples, hips, thighs - eager to mark every inch of you, claim you as his. It makes you squirm and your pussy ache with need, lightning bolts of pleasure coursing through you with each snap of his teeth. Usually when he bit you, he’d soothe the area with a few kisses - but now? He was a rabid fucking animal, carnality overwhelming his ability to think straight.

You're able to get a quick look at his ruddy cock when Katsuki leans back, repositioning himself while gripping your hips. You’re salivating at the sight - thick, swollen and pulsing, spend dripping down his length and coating the skin with a sheen of arousal. He’s heavily tracing circles into your hip bones, his firm clutch on your waist keeping you in place. He’s tugging your center toward his own, teasingly slipping the head of his cock between your creamy folds. You’re about to plunge down onto him when he pulls back, a wicked grimace crossing his lips. A dissatisfied squeak spills from your lips, pouting up at him with metaphorical hearts in your eyes.

“Y’want this?” Katsuki snarls, bouncing his dick against your mound, the contact causing you to inhale sharply. “Beg like the needy slut you are.”

Words are failing you as you attempt to fulfill his demand, the only sounds falling from your puffed lips a succession of jumbled moans.

“Cat got your tongue, princess?” He snorts at his own pun under his breath as he trails his palm up your body, resting under your jaw and fixating on the seductive gleam in you pupils.

“I know how to find those pretty words ‘a yours.”

Katsuki applies firm pressure to your throat under his finger tips, tilting your head upward to face him. Your hips buck up in response, begging for him to spread you open.

He clicks his tongue at your shameless plea. "C'mon baby, tell me what ya want."

His fingers flex over your throat, playfully interchanging how much pressure he's using over the pulse in your jugular. His gaze travels down your newly bitten and bruised body, pleased with how they adorn your features.

With every ounce of concentration, you blurt out everything lingering in your heat-riddled mind. "Break the fucking bed, rip my soul from my body, leave me choking on every word, ravage me until there's nothing left...please, Katsuki!"

You barely finished screaming his name before Katsuki releases the hold on your throat, roughly returning his grips to your hips and ramming his cock straight into your sweltering sex, the burning sensation rolling your eyes back into your head.

"Good fuckin' girl, baby."

He's hypnotized by the way your tits bounce as he fucks in and out of you at a feral pace, sweat glistening over both your bodies. The room's temperature heightens, the humidity only adding to the wild desire you're sharing.

Suddenly, he pulls out of you, leaving you confused and yearning. You don't have time to ask questions as he's rolling - shoving - you onto your stomach, arching your hips into place before resuming his unmerciful thrusts, growling and grunting from behind you. The new position has you crying out, intoxicated by the way his cock is hitting every hotspot along your walls and g-spot repetitively. You're unable to contain the sounds spilling from your parted lips as they harmonize with Katsuki's moans. He bends down to snatch your hair by the roots, forcing your head off the pillow as his other hand reaches around your waist, finger pressing harshly against your puffy clit. The wail that bubbles from your throat is sinful, overwhelmed as the coil in your core is wound tighter, tighter, and tighter.

"I fuckin' love when you moan like a whore, baby," Katsuki barks out between baited breath. "Ya keep screamin' like that, 'm gonna end up stuffin' your pretty pussy full 'a cum."

You flutter around his dick in response, stroking his length with every snap of his hips. "Hah, seems like that's what your beggin' for, isn't it?"

He screws his eyes shut, jaw clenched as he's inching closer to the edge. Your clenched walls coax his release to come rocketing out of nowhere, a guttural moan spilling out of him as he pumps you full of spend. The warmth is inviting - comforting, leaving you floating on cloud nine. Katsuki lets your locks drop from his grasp and removes his hand from your clit, folding over your back with exhaustion.

Imagine his shock when you push back against him, causing him to slide out of you with a schlep and fall back against the bed. You reverse your position to face him, taking hold of his shoulders to pull him into a sitting position and shove his back against the wall.

"Wha-"

You straddle his lap, springing his still-hard cock back inside of you and begin riding him mercilessly.

"One more," you whisper, voice low and demanding. "I know you can do it, my good fucking boy can give me one more."

Your nails are digging into his chest, red scratches left in their wake as you grind your soaked center against his shaft. Katsuki's stuttering, unable to find words as the overstimulation mixed with praise short circuits his brain.

"Ba-mmph-baby, wa-ahh-wait, fuck!"

Numerous beads of sweat roll from his hairline and drip down his cheeks, slack jawed from delirium. A second wave of release is rapidly rising in his abdomen, high pitched whimpers falling from his open mouth.

"Ah-almost!" you shout, fingers tracing his hardened nipples and pinching them roughly. He jolts, a final whine escaping him as the aforementioned wave crashes down, a second round of seed spurting out inside of you. Your own slick rushes to meet his spend, mixing together as it leaks from between your legs and into his lap.

"Holy fuck," Katsuki wheezes, barely able to speak. "Wh-where the fuck did you learn that?!"

Your legs are trembling uncontrollably as you lift yourself off of his dick, falling sideways onto the bed.

"I...just thought to try it," you sigh, "Never thought I'd get you to whine like that. Fuck, Kat. That was ungodly hot."

His face is burning red and heat traveling down his neck, somewhat embarrassed at his reaction of losing himself in the moment.

"Oh no, you don't get to be embarrassed! With half the shit you do to me?!" you tease, kicking his thigh jokingly with your foot. He grumbles, scrunching his brows together and crossing his arms.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop teasing you."

"Good, ya better. Now move your ass over and make room for me."

Katsuki flops next to you, too exhausted to get up from the bed. He wraps an arm around your waist and one under your head, cradling you close as your cheek meets his chest. You can hear his heartbeat thumping away as you close your eyes to the rhythm. He kisses your forehead before laying his head back against the mountain of pillows.

"Guess I should go away on missions more often if that's what I get 'ta come home to, shit. Feels like I just ran a fuckin' marathon."

You can't help but giggle, fighting off the itch to drift into slumber a little longer.

"I'm sneaking into your hotel room next time. No way am I waiting that long again!"

The two of you snuggle close, despite the ungodly amount of sweat coating your bodies and mugginess in the air, too enamored with one another to care.

"I love you so much, sweets. Don't forget that." Katsuki's voice is quiet, the words tightening in his throat as he speaks them aloud.

"I love you too, Katsuki. Forever and always."

He's satisfied with your answer as he closes his eyes, letting the wave of fatigue settle in his bones and lull him to sleep.

tagging @pastelbakugou as a thank you for the idea of a follow up 👀✨ no pressure tags!: @maddietries @slayfics @bkgrl @bub-ss hoping this was explosive enough! 🧡💥

[mountainsandmayhem]

Shhh...Just A Little Bit More

DBF!Joel x Fem!Reader

18+ MDNI

Masterlist || Part Two || Part Three (Soft Version) || Part Three (Spicy Version)

Summary: Joel catches you somewhere you shouldn't be, twice. CW: all p no plot! age gap, spanking, dirty talk, parental guilt, brat and brat tamer, sub/dom dynamics, edging and degradation kinks if you squint AN: I found the bottom right photo on Pinterest and @mermaidgirl30 said it screamed DBF!Joel. I have never written for DBF before so please be kind. Dividers by @saradika-graphics - thank you for all your amazing graphics and dividers, I'd be lost without your page.

“Let go of me, you fucking psycho!” You’re practically yelling over the music of the club, wrenching your arm from Joel’s strong grasp. The security guard approaches and Joel shoots him a glare so dark that he holds his hands up and steps back. “What the fuck, Joel?”

“What are ya doin’ here, sweetheart” he demands, one eyebrow raised. 

“I’m working!” You stomp your foot and then get right up in his face, pointing a finger at him. Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend, hanging out in a strip club one town over. “The real question is, what are YOU doin here?” 

You’re only a bottle girl, you don’t get on the stage and have no intentions of stripping. It’s good money, great money actually. At 22 you’re already well on your way to having a down payment on a condo, it’s just too bad you’re having to lie to your parents. 

“With my crew, they picked the place. I’m takin’ you home. Go get your coat.” He crosses his arms over his chest, staring at you sternly. The music is pounding in your ears, the air thick with smoke. Even in the dimly lit hallway you can see the way Joel’s eyes rake over your body, taking in the very tiny Jean shorts and bralette you’re wearing. 

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you spin and flip him the bird as you walk away. You know he’s staring so you give a little extra wiggle of your ass as you walk away. Joel Miller, staring at your ass. The fourteen year old inside you does a happy dance - that version of yourself had a tiny crush on him. Too bad he’s a stuffy, grumpy asshole now. You miss the fun, young Joel. He used to do cannonballs in the pool with you and his daughter Sarah. She was a few years older than you, but he was much more fun than your father. But now? Now he’s a certified prick. Thinking he can drag you away like some sort of barbaric caveman. He’s not your dad, even if he was, you’re an adult. 

When you finish your shift you head outside and pull up your Uber app, men often want to do shots with you so even though you never get drunk at work you also don’t drive there. 

See, Joel. I’m responsible. 

“Let’s go,” his voice is deep, still angry with you. You didn’t see him waiting by the door so you jump. 

“Jesus. You fucking scared me.” 

“Watch your language. Get in the truck.” 

You grumble under your breath that he should kiss your ass as he holds the door open for you. He stalks around to his side of the truck while furrowing his brow and shaking his head. 

“Got somethin’ to say young lady?” 

“Ya,” you say, slumping in the seat and putting your white vans on his dashboard, “kiss my ass.” 

He presses his lips in a thin line, you can see him eyeing your long toned legs from your peripheral vision before the engine roars to life and he speeds off down the gravel highway. 

When you pull up to the house he hops out of the truck and is right on your heels as you open the door. 

“I’m fine, Mister Miller.” You say with a sneer. You know he hates that, he has told everyone he’s ever been introduced to to call him Joel. 

Joel steps into your parents house and calls your dad’s name. “What the fuck! Joel! Shut up!” 

He calls for him again and your dad comes stumbling from his room, tying his robe around his sleeping attire. “Joel? What’s going on?” He flicks on the light, squinting against the brightness. “It’s 3 in the morning.” 

“Just thought I’d let you now know that the guys at work wanted to go to The Skin tonight. Caught your daughter working there.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Joel?!” You yell, pushing at his broad chest. Your dad stands there stunned. Eyes wide and mouth agape. He thought you were working as a nurses aide overnight at the hospital on weekends. He’s even seen you leave the house in scrubs. All a part of the web of lies you have weaved. 

“Don’t speak to Joel that way,” your dad snaps. “Go to your room young lady. We’ll talk about this later.” 

“Kiss my ass, cowboy.” You practically spit at him as you stomp to your room. As you round the corner your mom is standing in the hallway clutching her crucifix necklace. You have a sudden urge to hiss at her with the way she’s looking at you, like you’re a disappointment. A sinner, the worst kind of person in her eyes. 

The next morning was the fight of all fights with your parents. Your dad tried to ground you, your mom started shoving church pamphlets at you. They wouldn’t even fucking listen. 

“IM NOT A STRIPPER,” you yelled at them over and over again. 

Finally, when the yelling ceased, your dad said in a very quiet anger, “young lady. I FORBID you from going there again. Is that clear? I don’t care if you’re 22 or 42, if you live under my roof, you live by my rules. You’re going to go to continue going to your university classes during the week, and on weekends you will be home. Studying. Helping your mother with the chores. You will go to bed at respectable hour. If you need money, you ask us. Is that clear?” 

You blink back tears and head to your room, slamming the door behind you. You are NOT quitting that job. 

When the next weekend rolls around you say goodnight to your parents at 10pm and head to your room. You worked it out with your boss to work the midnight to 4 am shift. So you wait - ear pressed to your door until you finally hear your parents go to bed. You sneak out the same way you’ve been sneaking out for years and run down the street with your newly embroidered denim shorts in hand to meet your Uber. 

You peel yourself away from the men and the booze around 2am to get some fresh air, exiting through the back to the dimly lit alley. You take a big inhale through your nose before you see it. The truck. Joel’s truck. And Joel. Leaning against the truck box, arms crossed, one foot up on the tire. 

You flip him off and then turn back towards the back entrance to the club. He’s on you so fast, grabbing the back of your bicep in his large hand. “You little brat. You aren’t supposed to be here.” 

“Read the shorts, MISTER Miller.” You say it as much venom as you can muster. 

His eyes rake down your body and you can almost feel them burning into you. It feels so good, you never want him to stop. Your pussy throbbed when he called you a brat and you wouldn’t be surprised if your light jean shorts hadn’t been soaked through already. When his eyes reach the pocket he sees ‘Kiss My Ass, Cowboy’ stitched in baby pink lettering and his grip tightens. 

He’s fucking furious with you. Furious that you’re here. Furious that other men get to see you dressed like this. Furious that he wants you so fucking badly. But mostly, furious because he knows you want him too and he’s a weak weak man when it comes to pretty little things like you. He yanks you back against his body and you let out a pained moan. 

“Don’t make me punish you,” he says coldly in your ear and you fight to stop your knees from buckling. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you say breathlessly. 

Joel’s lips graze against the shell of your ear, hand gripping so tightly that you’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow. “So that’s what you want? You want me to punish you? Put you in your place? Huh?” 

You grind your ass back against him, “you would dare, Joel.” 

His other hand clamps down on your hip as he steers you to his truck, walking you around so no one can see the two of you. He opens the back door and pushes you forward until your legs are against the cold steel frame of the vehicle. “You don’t get to call me that. You call me Mr Miller from now on. Understood?” 

“Go fuck yourself, Joel,” you emphasize every vowel of his name, digging deeper. Pushing him. Pushing to see how far he’ll go. You get off on being a brat, and by the way his hard cock is pressing into your ass, he does too. 

He unbottons your shorts then lifts you slightly and pushes your upper body down onto the seat, the truck is high enough that your feet are dangling, ass stuck out for him. “Look at these slutty little shorts.” He tugs on the hem, your shorts now sitting just above your knees. Your pert ass is exposed to Joel and the night air. He tuts at the sight of you, “No panties. Little fuckin’ tease.” 

You whimper at his words, slick starting to coat your thighs. “You’re the one standing back there doing nothing.” You taunt. 

The cool night air spreads goosebumps across your skin, your clit twitches in anticipation of his touch. Other men have fucked you hard to get you to shut your mouth. And finally, FINALLY, you’re going to get fucked by Joel Miller. However, you grossly underestimated the different between the boys were with before and the man behind you now. 

His hand strikes your cheek hard and you let out a loud pained yell. “What the fuck, Joel!” 

“If you’re gonna be a brat,” his hand lands on your ass again, “you’re going to get a spanking.” His voice is harsh and rough as he hits you a third time. The sound of his skin on yours echoing through the cab of his truck. He hits you again, not caring about your cries of protest. 

You’ve never been spanked before and you’re thrown by your bodies reaction to it. At first you were shocked, then humiliated and then the pain and heat travelled to the base of your spine and you found yourself starting to get turned on. Arousal pools in your belly with each strike of his palm and when your pussy throbs the humiliation starts to creep back in. Are you supposed to be enjoying this so much, is this what Joel wants?

You bend your knees up, trying to make space between your bodies. One of his strong hands wraps around your ankles, pinning them to the back of your thighs as he spanks you again. 

“Stop! I’m sorry. I’ll - “ he strikes you again, harder than the last few times and there’s no more pain, every slap is full of pleasure. You let out a deep moan, your pussy practically gushing onto the leather seats. “Oh fuuuuck.”

Now that it’s turning you on it almost eggs Joel on. “Put your hands out in front of you,” he commands. Your arms shoot out, stretching them across the seat above your head. “Such a needy little slut. You’re drippin’ all over my fucking seat, baby girl.” He strikes you again and your arms flinch. “Keep them there.” 

Your ass is starting to get pink, his splotchy handprints covering it. The world around him starts to fade, all that he can see is you and your ass - and he wants to make it hurt. Then he wants to make it good. So very good. 

His strikes keep coming, he’s like a man possessed. “Stop, Joel. Please.” 

He drops your ankles, then uses his hand to spread your thighs apart, the denim biting into your knees. “Shhh…just a little bit more. Look at this messy pussy. You don’t want me to stop.” 

He hits you again and you start to hate how much he’s right. You don’t want him to stop, you’re on the verge of coming and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re sure the second he’s near your clit you’ll explode. 

Both of your cheeks are glowing red and Joel finally stops. You’ve both lost track of how many times he’s hit you. His large palm rubs the marks. You know you should keep your mouth shut, but fuck do you love to rile him up. 

“Are you done now? I have work to get back to.” 

Joel growls behind you. You hear the sound of his belt undoing, the leather whipping out from the demin loops. “I’m sick of your goddamn mouth, baby girl.” 

Your eyes widen in fear, stomach twisting up over the thought of him striking your sore ass with his thick leather belt. Your pussy, however, flutters in excitement. Slut, you think to yourself. 

You hear his buckle clinking, he grabs you by the hair and jerks your head back. “Open you mouth,” he says with a snarl. You obey him and he slides the folded up leather between your teeth. “Bite down on this. You can speak to me again once you’ve learned your lesson.” 

You press your teeth into the rough leather, waiting for his next move. His hand comes across the back of your thigh and it’s a whole different sensation. The pain shoots straight to your core, the walls of your pussy clenching harder than your teeth do as you whine out a high pitched squeal. On instinct your hands shoot back, knees bending to protect yourself from him. He steps back from you, without his heat you’re left in the cold air. 

“Arms up and legs down,” he says in an eerily calm voice. 

You whimper again, grinding your teeth against the leather of his belt before slowly peeling your arms and legs away from your body, returning to Joel’s desired position. You’re so wet that it’s staring pool along the leather seat of Joel’s truck, your hips slipping slightly. 

“Dirty little thing. I’m tryin to punish you and you’re sopping wet.” He steps forward and lays a loud sharp slap with perfect precision right across your sore thigh. 

You yelp again, whining as your lash line fills with tears. This is not what you thought would happen when Joel threatened to punish you. And you definitely didn’t expect to fucking love it. You’re so turned on that you feel dizzy. 

Joel’s lips come to your thigh. Light kisses and his scratchy facial hair peppering along your red hot skin. “Fuck me,” you say around the leather clamped between your teeth. 

Joel laughs into your skin, kissing along the handprints he’s left on your ass. You’re squirming underneath him, pushing your ass towards his face, desperate for him to make you come. His hands grip around your shorts and your whole body relaxes at the thought of him finally fucking you. “I need you to listen to me now, ok?” 

You nod fervently and he lets out an amused laugh. You arch your back at him invitingly, but instead of removing your shorts he yanks them back up. You moan out in protest as he lifts you down from the truck. His strong fingers work to do up your shorts before he spins you. You look like a wreck; mascara smudged under your eyes, cheeks pink, eyes glazed and dopey looking. Cock drunk and he hasn’t even given it to you. He grabs the belt and you release it for him. It’s killing him not to fuck you right here and now. 

His hand cups your chin, squeezing your cheeks and locking eyes with you. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

You try to nod but he’s gripping you so tightly. “Yea? Then you need to do what I say. Ok?” 

“Mm-hmm” 

“Go in there and quit. Then come back out here and I will fuck you so hard that you’ll feel it in your throat.” 

Taglist:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag  @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @baar-ur @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog @pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde  @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @mermaidgirl30

[nappingmoon]

ex!sukuna x reader - nsfw

wc: 3.1k

you get stuck on the side of the road with no gas and the only one who comes to your rescue is your ex sukuna <3

this can't be fucking real. your car sputters as you pull onto the side of the road before it comes to a halt. your roommate had borrowed your car earlier and returned it with just enough time to drive to your date on time. she didn't tell you, however, that the tank was nearly empty, and you had to ignore the small light that went on as you neared the small bar, not wanting to be rude and arrive late.

the date was alright, and at least he asked you a question or two instead of droning on and on alone for an hour and a half like your last date did. he was handsome and seemed kind enough that you could see him making a great boyfriend for someone else, but there was an unfortunate lack of chemistry between the two of you. there was a promise to talk again soon– one that would surely be broken-- and then you found yourself on your way. driving always gave you time to think and apparently, all the thinking drowned out any warning signs that the car tried to send you before giving out.

you try your roommate first, calling her with the hopes that she's with her boyfriend and he'd be willing to drive to you and at least get you to a gas station. the blaring music in the background of the call gives you an idea of what they're up to and when she turns the camera to her boyfriend with a funnel in his mouth, you cross them off the list.

next you try your date, crossing your fingers that he's still in the area. it goes straight to voicemail. you call again, maybe it was just bad connection or something. voicemail again. "dickhead" you mutter.

your only other friend who would be willing to come pick you up without holding the favor over your head works always works a double on saturdays. you know she'd come pick you up in a heartbeat, but she needs her rest and you decide against calling.

and so you come upon your last option. you and sukuna broke up two months ago and you hadn't seen him since. it was a stupid spat- you don't even remember what the source of the problem was but at some point you just started insulting each other like fucking middle school children. he called you an overbearing bitch, you called him a jealous dickhead who couldn't get over his mommy and daddy issues. things just got away from the two of you and neither of you called to mend things. about a month ago, you just assumed you were now single and when your roommate made you a profile on a stupid dating app, you didn't delete it right away.

and so, here you are now. an empty tank, with no one except him to call. you wince as you type his number in and his contact name appears as scumbag. deciding that calling him is a better option than staying alone in a car on the side of the road all night, you close your eyes and tap the green call icon. it rings once.

"hello?" his voice is gruff and the one word squeezes your heart, making you remember how much you actually miss him, despite hating him sometimes too.

"hi sukuna, i'm sorry to bother. is this a bad time?" you hear voices in the background, he might be at a friend's. even as you ask that, you know he'd drop everything if he knew you were in need.

"what's up princess? you need something?" he uses your old nickname and the heartstrings tug even more. he ignores your question and you know that you were right.

"well, it's not an emergency, but, i ran out of gas and-" you start but don't get to finish your sentence.

"send me your location." is all he says before he hangs up.

you send it. you still had his from when you were dating, but you had stopped sharing yours a week after the argument. you knew he was liable to show up at a club if he knew you were there and didn't want to give him the satisfaction of being able to do that. you were free to do as you please. the map said that he was 22 minutes away.

within 15 minutes, you see a pair of headlights slow. you get out of your car, ready to scold him for speeding but eager to see him again, even if the last time you saw him was on bad terms. confusion enters you, though, when you see an unfamiliar car. out comes a man that you don’t recognize. “hello sweetcheeks,” says the man, walking towards you and grinning far too much for your liking. “you get lost or something?” 

you head back towards your car reaching in to grab your phone but never taking your eyes off the man. “no, I’m not. I am waiting for a friend.” you try to keep your voice assertive and steady but it is difficult when this creep keeps coming towards you. you click sukuna’s contact and send him a text, ‘creepy guy here, please come quick.’ 

“can i wait with ya? you look like you could use a friend and I am great company.” he says, getting too close to the car and too close to you. he responds to your ‘no, thank you.’ with a “aw come on, i’m not gonna do anything to ya. why don’t you want to hang out with me? don’t be a bitch.” 

“sir, i’m really gonna need you to back up right now please.” you’re cornered into your car door and you curse yourself for forgetting to replace the pepper spray on your keychain. your heart seems to be beating through your chest but you can see headlights to a much bigger car turning onto the road over the man’s shoulder. sukuna’s truck roars closer and you could almost cry in gratitude. the man in front of you doesn’t seem to notice the lights nor the man bounding towards the two of you. just as he goes to reach your hand, sukuna grabs the man’s shoulder and pulls him away from you, bending his arm behind his back so far you are sure it’s going to snap at any moment. 

“listen here you degenerate piece of lowlife scum. the only reason you have your face still intact is because i’m on fucking probation and I don’t need to go to jail over some fucking incel who can’t take no for an answer. now you’re going to walk back to your car and drive on the fuck home and if i ever catch you around here creeping again, you won’t have enough limbs or teeth to try it a third time. got it?” the man nods and whimpers as sukuna releases his arm, running over to his car and speeding off.

sukuna turns to you to ask you if you’re alright but lets out a small ‘umph’ in surprise when you run into his chest and wrap your arms around him. he places a hand on your head and rubs it back and forth, muttering a “yeah, yeah” as you thank him over and over. he grabs your chin to tilt your head up to him and looks into your glassy eyes as he asks “you alright, princess?”

you nod, but don’t unwrap your arms from his torso– refusing to release your lifeline. you burrow your head into his chest again, needing a moment to ground yourself before returning to reality. he huffs, but squeezes you tight, rubbing his thumb on your shoulder. you stand like that for a minute or two before he pushes you back. “come on, let's fix your car and get you warmed up. it’s cold out here.” then he takes a look at your outfit. “hold on, where the fuck were you?”

your cheeks warm, remembering that you really tried to look cute for this date. you paired a cute slip dress with a cardigan and some short strappy heels. an outfit wasted on a man who showed up in shorts and a graphic tee but you suppose sukuna seeing you in it is at least a plus. “just a bar.” you say, while looking to the side.

he grabs your chin and brings your eyes back to him, a favorite move of his apparently, and scans your face. “you were with a guy, huh? what the fuck? are you cheating on me?” he asks incredulously.

“what? you haven’t talked to me in two months. I thought we broke up!” you reply, equally confused.

“I thought you were doing your fucking ‘healing’ or whatever the fuck you girls do! I gave you space because i was trying to be mature and let you calm down.”

“who lets someone calm down for two months? you didn’t think to call me and ask? what is wrong with you?” 

“you! you are fucking wrong with me. whenever it comes to you its like all fucking reasonable thought goes out the window! how the fuck was I supposed to know it was okay to reach out? and, what, we don’t talk for a little and you think it’s okay to go talk to other guys? you’re mine, don’t you remember that? or did our dry spell fuck with your head? did you think you could get over me by dressing up for some loser and getting mediocre dick?” 

yes. “no! it wasn’t like that kuna. I just, i don’t know. you were so mean and then you didn’t reach out and i thought that was it between us. I thought i needed to move on.” 

he bends over so that you are eye level with each other. “there’s no fucking ‘moving on’ baby. you’re stuck with me forever.”

upon hearing those words, it’s like all the sentiment from before truly comes flooding back into you. your body seems to move on its own, surprising the both of you when you close the gap between your lips. his fist finds its way into your hair and the other grabs your waist, pulling you closer. these months were the longest you have gone without sex and you didn’t know how much you had missed it until you were back in sukunas hands with his tongue in your mouth. he moves his knee between your thighs as much as your dress will let him. the friction isn’t enough and you whine and squirm in his arms. “aw, is my baby all needy? do you need more?” he teases, the words leaving his mouth and meeting yours. 

you drag your hands down his back and then slip them under his shirt to roam around his abs. fuck, you’ve missed this. “please, please kuna, need more.” 

sukuna growls and pulls you back, closing the door to the driver’s seat and opening the door to the back row. he tugs your arm and maneuvers you like a doll until you’re laid across your back seats. sukuna kneels on the floor outside the car and tugs your hips to the edge of the outermost seat before hiking up your dress to your waist. he growls when he realizes you aren’t wearing panties. “are you fucking kidding me? you had this pretty pussy ready and open on a first date? like some slut?” 

he bites the inside of your thigh and you cry out “no, ryo, the lines just ruin the dress. I promise.” he’s looking up at your frown and your watery eyes and you look so sincere and so adorable and he can’t take it anymore. he sticks his head into your heat, lapping at you like he hasn’t had a meal since the last time you saw him.

“fuck, baby. I’ve missed your taste so much. his fingers dig into your hips, keeping you in place as your back arches and your head digs into the seat. you can’t stop your squirming as sukuna sucks at your clit and your hands claw at your sides and the seat in search of something to grasp. sukuna grips your left leg and adjusts it so that it lays over his right shoulder. he brings your hand into his hair before dipping to play with your clit, his head lowering to kiss and swirl his tongue all around your pussy. with his other hand, he intertwines his fingers with yours, not even needing to look up to find your hand. of course he doesn’t look away– he’s entirely focused on using his tongue to make you forget anyone but him exists. he uses the palm of the hand that’s intertwined with yours to press on your tummy, making you see stars.

“fuck, ryomen, i’m gonna cum. please pleasepleasepleaseplease” your words blend together as the pleasure gets to your head. the fingers over your clit have found a deadly rhythm and when paired with his tongue that pushes in and out of you, you truly don’t stand a chance. he lets out small words that you can’t hear but the vibrations are enough to send you over the edge, crying out and squeezing your thighs around him like a vice. as you come down from your high you let sukuna move you up, making space for him to get into the car and close the door behind him. 

you’re dazed as you watch him unbuckle his belt and pull the waistband of his boxers down. His dick slaps his abdomen, hard and pulsing. he fists himself as he licks his lips, smirking. “delicious as always princess. now are you gonna let me in?” and you don’t think you could nod faster. you’re almost positive that there are hearts in your eyes as you watch him line himself up with you, fingers playing with your clit a little before spreading you for his tip. he rolls his hips forwards just enough so the tip catches and the stretch is already dizzyingly good. he curses, “holy fuck, did you not touch yourself at all while you were alone?”

“I did, my fingers just weren’t enough.” you whine, and the image of you in bed horny and frustrated because your little fingers weren’t hitting all the spots that he could makes him impossibly harder. 

“fuck, baby, I didn’t just ruin you for any other guy, I ruined you for yourself too, huh? nothing else will do for this pretty pussy but my cock or my fingers or my mouth. what a spoiled little cunt you have.” he laughs. you have had enough of his teasing and try to roll your hips to get more in. “alright alright I get it. easy baby, easy. by the way, what did you have for dinner tonight?” 

confused, you reply “chicken francaise, wh–” but you don’t get to finish your sentence, interrupted by sukuna fully thrusting into you. you gasp, the sting of your walls stretching to accommodate him intense even after cumming once already.

“I figured a distraction might help you relax a little better but holy fuck you’re tighter than I could have imagined. you really must have barely touched yourself while I was gone. don’t worry, this pussy won’t get neglected again.” he says, and rolls his hips again. sweat drips down your forehead as he leans over to kiss you, working his hips into yours in a delicious rhythm. as soon as you notice that his thumb has started rubbing your clit, he bites your bottom lip and the pain and pleasure mix into a mind numbing, all encompassing haze. he brings his other hand to pinch your nipple and it is enough to send you over the edge again.

being the man that he is, however, he does not let you catch a break before flipping you over to be on your hands and knees. you’re crouched and you’re sweaty and it’s hot as he slides against you but nothing has been more erotic and you find that you love it. he’s merciless now, hips snapping into yours as he chases his own pleasure. there’s just one thing he can’t get out of his mind. “did you like having your fun? was going out with those losers everything you had hoped for and more?” he spits the words into your ear, the smack of his hips getting rougher and rougher as he speaks.

it’s all you can do to turn your head and whine out “n-no! only wanted you ryo, hated going out with other guys.” you pout just remembering it. “please make me forget about them. I only ever want you.” the request is enough to send him into overdrive, and he sticks his fingers into your mouth to shut you up, knowing that he was going to be seconds away from coming if you uttered another word. you moan at the taste of yourself and at the feeling of him so deep inside you. you suck his fingers clean running your tongue across his digits. some of the spit escapes and drips down the side of your mouth and the sukuna goes wild at the debauchery of it all. 

“fuck, fuck fuck fuck i’m gonna cum, where do you want it princess?” he groans, hips stuttering as he tries to hold his release back.

there is, of course, only one right answer. “inside!” you keen, pushing your hips back to try to give him nowhere to escape to. 

“dirty fucking girl.” he snarls. “I’ll give you my cum– don’t worry princess, it’s all yours.” he says before groaning and stilling inside you. you feel the warmth fill you and grin, knowing that it is where it’s supposed to be. he turns your head and kisses you with fervor before pulling you back and sitting you on his lap. you lay your head on his chest, catching your breath and basking in the feeling of being in his arms once again. 

...

“so, are you really on probation?” you ask, rubbing your thumb in circles over one of the tattoos on his chest.

“yeah, I told you, i go crazy when it comes to you. after our argument i went out and got into a fight with the first person who was stupid enough to respond to my antagonizing. got caught kicking the shit out of him because I was so in my head. don’t fucking leave me again, I don’t think i’d survive the next one. well, i might, but the next guy I fight probably wouldn’t.”

[fullfriendnerdclutch]

Bunch of Quickies

Caption #2: First Job out of Uni

My brain fired off some initial ideas upon seeing these pics, but I just cannot extend it, so here's a bunch of short captions that now have the chance to be unearthed from the depth of my draft

Caption #1: Morning

"Hey there sleepyhead, how's your sleep?" said the attractive guy sitting on top of the marble countertop sipping his morning coffee to the drowsy Gus

"Another form already, huh? What are you up to this morning looking like that?"

"Nothing, to be honest. Just want to look good and fresh, plus, it's nice to be fucking confident because you know you're one hot piece of shit,"

"Well, that's a spot on assessment about that dude. He jogged with the dog again this morning?"

"Different dog, but still shirtless as usual. Added this tattoo to his forearm, just copied it and heck it looks nice, guy really knows his body,"

"Ah, okay, so he's fucking different girl already now,"

"Yeah, but he can fuck a guy if he wants to,"

"Lee, calm the fuck down. This is still fucking early,"

"Well, for you, but for Wade here, it's quite late already. He already finished his running, eating his breakfast and about to hop into his shower. But the girlfriend is one kinky fucker, wanted to taste Wade's musty sweaty cock. Again, Wade prefers boys this time,"

"Oh come on, go clean yourself, will ya, let me have my morning,"

Wade/Lee just smirked and slapped his boyfriend's ass as he walked away to leave Gus to have his morning routine. After reading some news online and drinking his coffee, Gus walked back to his room to head to the bathroom as he's about to take a dump and clean himself. Then, walked another guy out from the bathroom, his expression tense and definitely hungry

"Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my house?"

Gus just sighed, Lee really love his roleplay.....

"Everyone will go nuts if I walk in like this," said Barry to the reflection of this random old DILF in the mirror, imagining the loud, borderline animalistic grunt and holler from the packed crowd of the Sticky Situation. Yeah, that's the name of the gay nightclub where Barry frequently danced and partied with his friends. But this will be a new experience for the 22 years old freshgraduate, his first job experience after uni turned out to be something beyond his wildest imaginations, all thanks to his hips that caught the attention of the nightclub manager, who found himself in sticky situation with his boyfriend of 3 years, Daniel. Reluctant to let Daniel go, and swayed by Barry's energetic presence on the dance floor, he concocted a plan to get the naive and horny freshgrad a chance for an upgrade of a lifetime, and of course Barry took that offer. Now, finger cross Barry will decide to stay permanently inside Daniel, that will make things much more easier so he doesn't need to find the occupant of his boyfriend-turned-bodysuit every few months or so.

Caption #3: Recluse Neighbor

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Ck, just how I thought. Well, it doesn't matter, in a matter of seconds, I'm about to be you, Mr. Bay,"

And just like that, the mostly reserved and barely sociable ginger lunged to get himself inside the body of his own neighbor that barely recognized him. Mr. Bay might not be rich or anything seeing that he basically lived in the same building as him, but everything beats living with his deadbeat alcoholic father and that devious cunt he's forced to call mom

Caption #4: Setting Things Right

I suggested them about the takeover ever since Mario shown me how to swap bodies with him by chugging those pills he stashed in his bedside counter. Maybe he trusted me or maybe he was just naive, but I still have no idea why Mario would willingly share such out-of-this-world possibility to me, a mere random hookup of his, as if everyone are bunch of saints that wouldn't take an opportunity to create a new life for themselves? During our third swap, I fucked him so hard using his own body, he started weeping as my hole never really found itself in such distressing lustful pounding. In his weakened state, face & body bruised and stamina drained from the whole mess, I decided to violate our terms & conditions, flipping him over to then proceed to facefuck him like there's no tomorrow. You should have seen his panicked stare and the way he tried to push me off as he realized what I was about to do, but as soon as the copious spunk hit his throat, the resistance ended and his eyes turned hazy as the cum sealed his fate to remain in my body while I took his body as my permanent residence, the swap somehow irreversible if someone came in the other's mouth or practically anywhere else except asshole, possibly indicating that the pills should not be tainted with cum when swallowed within specific time window.

The almost same case went on with Isaiah and Darnell, two of Mario's closest friend and frequent fuckbuddies, that found themselves now locked for good inside Leon, my Salvadoran best friend and Rei, my Japanese-American roommate. Both Isaiah and Darnell also have the same kink of getting fucked by smaller dudes, and when I explained to both big bottoms that the swapping pills would have extra effect if swallowed with cum for heightened senses (I advertised it as popper in pills form), they took Leon's and Rei's cum like some good submissive slut, inadvertently sealing their own fate to be trapped in the body that now preferably more fitting to their sexual desires. Talk about setting things right, because all 3 of us wanted to be older and stronger ever since we connected in college a couple years ago and these 3 daddies just wanted to waste their big bodies to bottom

Caption #5: Unexpected Swap

Frankie was sobbing in his bedroom after getting locked by his evil stepfather Darius after he found Frankie jerking off in front of his laptop to a shirtless guy in the other side of the call. To make things worse, Darius found his socks right next to Frankie's body, his eyes filled with hatred and disgust as he punished the 19 years old boy he viewed as mere burden and now, shame, to his name.

"You fucking faggot, I know you're just some up to no good failure, have some shame will ya? Worthless piece of faggot shit! Sniffing my socks too, getting off on my odor? God, you are disgusting!" Darius said, one of his rant in between the beatings

Frankie cried himself to sleep, both for the physical pain inflicted by his father that beat the shit out of him and also the mental anguish of thinking what would happen next after Darius arrived back. Of course he would never expect to found himself suddenly standing up in the middle of the gym, exasperated from the intense workout he just went through

Workout? Wha--- his thoughts came to a halt as everything started to get its footings. He's in the middle of the gym, feeling pumped, and the shirt.....this is unmistakably one of the shirts he usually found in the laundry room.....Darius shirt

As he looked down and then flexed his biceps to get a good look over his physique, he also started to feel the snaking blood rush to the monster he called his own now, the humungous cock attached to Darius's body. Oh he's about to have fun getting off directly from the source

[pedropascallme]

Yes, Mr Miller

Pairing: dbf!Joel x babysitter!Reader

Summary: "You yourself wouldn’t consider Joel a friend, he was more so an acquaintance who paid you to hang around the house with his kid. A very handsome acquaintance."

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), age gap (reader is 20-22 age range, Joel is mid 50s), dom/sub dynamics (dom!Joel x sub!Reader), verges on exhibitionism but isn't quite, fingering, cum play, degradation, praise, Joel has an absolutely filthy fucking mouth, no outbreak, Sarah is like 9, if I missed anything please let me know!

AN: Part 2 here!!

If you had to choose one word to describe Sarah Miller, it would be “firecracker." Not only was she the most energetic child you had ever met, but there were days you genuinely couldn’t keep up with her antics; she ran circles around you, bouncing excitedly before jumping into the pool and demanding you race her—so that she could show you how easy it was for her to win.

And you loved it. Babysitting her was a brief respite from your days of research papers and early mornings. You considered it luck that your parents had moved into the Miller’s neighborhood after you left for college; it meant job security when you returned home from school.

Your father had quickly bonded with Joel after the move over their shared, niche interests; the watch brand they both wore, the tools they used for odd jobs—it was sweet, really, to see two men with little outward emotion confiding in each other. Though you'd never heard either of them say it outright, the long nights they spent in your family's garage drinking and muttering football scores to each other was enough for you to deem Joel Miller your father's best friend. You yourself wouldn’t consider Joel a friend, he was more so an acquaintance who paid you to hang around his house with his kid.

A very handsome acquaintance.

When he called you that afternoon to see if you were around, you nodded against the phone, wrapping the wire in your fingers and enthusiastically accepting the offer to babysit. An opportunity to spend time with Sarah, and the opportunity to speak to Joel—no matter how short the conversation—was not one to waste.

It wasn’t like you actively planned to seduce your father’s best friend, but in your head, it was a fun game to amuse yourself with; you had never exactly been the sexually-outgoing type, and it was exciting to play around and flirt poorly with a man as stoic and flawless as Joel Miller despite the fact that you knew he would never acknowledge, let alone cave, to your shy advances. Who cared if every interaction was fuel for your late-night activities, alone in the dark with your fingers pressed against you? Who cared if you remembered every time he looked at you, and all the ways he brushed up against you?

Nobody had to know.

Clad in a sundress that let you show off maybe a little more skin than you should as a caretaker, you meandered down the path to the Miller household from your own. You rang the bell, always hesitating to walk right in despite the fact that Joel had told you countless times in the past that you could come and go as you pleased. Joel opened the door and gave you a brief up-and-down, letting out a playful whistle.

“Just babysittin’, darlin’, didn’t have to get all gussied up.”

 “It’s an old dress, Mr. Miller,” you blushed, always referring to him with the honorific, “not anything fancy.”

“Fancier than anythin’ I ever wore.”

You examined the well-loved flannel and jeans he wore, “That’s not saying much, is it?” You smiled up at him.

Chuckling, he ushered you into the house, and you leaned against the counter. You weren’t uncomfortable around Joel; he was a nice man, despite the grumpiness he exuded, and you’d known him long enough now to feel at ease in his presence—never mind the fire that ignited in you when he spoke. “Sarah’s out in the pool. You can order dinner, ’m good for it,” he grabbed his keys, “don’t know when I’ll be back.” He crossed his arms, biceps bulging through his shirt, mulling over any other details he had to share with you. “Remember where everythin' is? Food, bandaids?”

“Yes, Mr. Miller.” You spoke up. This had become the usual back-and-forth between the two of you: he would over-explain the job you’d been doing for two summers now, and you would let him.  

“I’ll have cash for you when I’m back.”

“Don’t need it.” This was another game you enjoyed—pretending you didn’t expect anything out of him. Obviously, you’d watch Sarah for nothing, you loved her, but a college student living with her parents didn’t necessarily have the room to deny money being offered to her. You did it more out of courtesy than anything, with the added bonus of getting to see the roguish frown he directed at you.

Joel made a noise in disagreement before opening to back door to call for Sarah. “I’m leavin’!”

You watched as Sarah, sun-kissed and still soaked from the pool, bum rushed her father, letting him kiss her on the head and exchanging “I love yous” and “be goods” before she turned her attention toward you, grabbing your hand and leading you outside. You smiled a goodbye at Joel as you were pulled through the door to the backyard.

~~~

You didn’t remember falling asleep. Not that anyone ever really could, but you had no recollection of setting yourself up on the couch and nodding off.

You woke up to the feeling of something gently brushing at your knee. Opening your eyes and looking toward the source of the touch, your hazy brain registered Joel standing in front of you.

“Sorry ‘m so late, darlin’.” He was speaking softly, but his voice still managed to come off gruff. You savored the gravelly sound, and the way the nickname made it seem as though he was apologizing to a significant other for coming home late, rather than a babysitter he paid to be there.

“It’s alright,” you rubbed your eyes, trying to delay the post-nap grogginess you already felt seeping into your bones, “what time is it?”

“Little after two,” Joel frowned, brow knit “should’a called you.”

“It’s alright,” you reiterated, “Sarah just ran me kinda ragged.” You explained why you were passed out on his sofa. “Gets harder to keep up with her every summer—makes me feel old.” You grinned, tugging the hem of your dress down to cover the bare skin of your thigh to retain a bit of modesty.

Joel watched your movements before quickly refocusing his attention to your face. “How’d’ya think I feel ’round the two of you?”

You smiled at each other, too tired to grasp the atmosphere of the compromising situation you had found yourself in. “I should get going.” You stood, but Joel blocked your path.

“Not this late on your own, y’shouldn’t.”

“It’s a five-minute walk.” It was more like ten, but you didn’t bother with details, trying to quell Joel’s anxieties.

“I’ll drive you.”

“Mr. Miller…that’s excessive,” you argued, “I’m a grown up.”

“Like hell—don’t want you walkin’ on your own. It’s dark," he put his hands on his hips, leaning down to meet you at eye level, "what would your daddy say?"

“Don’t want you to drive me if you’ve been working all day.” You muttered, ignoring the way his phrasing and tone nearly made your knees buckle.

“That’s sweet,” he quirked a brow, “get in the truck.”

~~~

You liked Joel’s truck, it smelled like him; sweat and shampoo and sawdust, with a hint of the cologne he wore. He’d driven you around plenty, but usually it was still light out, and Sarah or your father would accompany the two of you.

You were comfortable with Joel—but that comfort went out the window when you were tired and alone, with the man that consumed many of your private thoughts, late at night. You felt somewhat self-conscious sitting next to him now, watching him fumble with the keys and white-knuckle the steering wheel.

“Seatbelt.” Joel reminded you, bringing you out of your thoughts and allowing you to rejoin him in the waking world. You buckled yourself in.

“So…” Joel seemed to be aware of the tension, “What’s your plan, when you get your degree?” He attempted small talk.

“Dunno,” you were honest, “wanna stay here.” He nodded, starting the engine and peeling out of the driveway. “Don’t really see myself joining the work force. Not yet. I’m only a junior—still got time.”

Joel laughed softly, “Give it a few years. You’ll get sick of doin’ nothin’.”

“I’m not doin’ nothin’,” you mimicked his thick drawl, “working for you, aren’t I?”

“Hardly,” Joel glanced over at you, “not payin’ you nearly enough.”

“It’s a good thing I like Sarah, then.” You joked. You enjoyed this, the repartee you were experiencing with Joel. You had known him since you were 18; fresh and unsure of yourself. Not that much had changed, personally, but it was rare that you got to experience Joel all to yourself; it was riveting, and a little nerve-wrecking, but it was nice to be the center of his attention, especially considering he had always seemed to regard you as an equal.

“You’re a good kid, sweetheart.” Joel smiled, thumping a hand on your thigh, just below the edge of your dress. This was new. He had put a guiding hand on your waist or shoulder in the past, but this placement felt more intimate. You stared at it, letting the warmth that radiated from him drain into you.

“Thank you, Mr. Miller.” You squeaked, still enjoying the weight of his hand on your thigh.

“Why don’t you call me Joel?”

“Do you want me to call you Joel?” You peeked over at him.

“Can do what you want,” he explained, “but you’re the only person that ever called me that.”

“I like it.”

“Bein’ the only person to call me that?” He rubbed his thumb over your skin, and you could feel yourself blush, the fabric of your underwear damp.

“I guess. Like how it sounds.”

“Makes me seem respectable.” He grinned, and you leaned back in the passenger seat to appreciate his side profile.

“Aren’t you?” You pushed, emboldened by his sudden physicality and wrapping a hand around his forearm, tracing your fingers across the tanned flesh. You felt like a high schooler, so unfamiliar with flirting and making awkward somatic advances instead of addressing the crush you had head-on. Still, a shot like this wasn't one you were inclined to miss.

Joel pressed the brakes at the stop sign at an intersection concealed by foliage. “Do you think I am?” He felt closer to you now, despite being the same distance in his seat as he had been for the duration of the ride. He let you continue to clumsily hold onto him, his own hand tightening the grip he had on your thigh.

“I—I think so…” You stammered, lips parted, unwavering gaze set upon him.

Joel put the car in park. He leaned in close to you, removing your hands from each other as he shifted, his hand moving to cup your cheek. “Think I can prove you wrong.”

You breathed out, eyes dragging up and down his face, providing the tiniest nod of consent—afraid that if you moved too much he’d take his hand away from you.

He kissed you then, slowly, gently; he let you set the pace with small, closed-mouth kisses. His hand slipped below your jaw and the kiss deepened slightly, leaving enough space for him to lick and nip at your bottom lip. You let out a soft moan at the feeling, the way his stubble rubbed against your lips, and he grunted, smiling. Your hands drifted up to his chest, holding tight to the fabric of his shirt and encouraging him to come closer. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, and you sighed at the feeling. You couldn’t say how long you continued on like that; his hands in your hair and yours planted on his chest, tenderly exploring each other’s mouths.

You felt your panties sticking to you, and you subconsciously began to roll your hips atop the seat you were in, suddenly frantic to find some kind of relief for your aching clit. Joel noticed, chuckling at your desperation.

“Poor thing,” he tilted your chin up to look at him, “need me to help you?” His eyes were darker than their usual shiny umber.

“Yes, Mr. Miller—please.” You pouted, eyes wide, rubbing your thighs together, still hoping to dull the throbbing between your legs.

“Fuck, darlin’,” Joel reached down to help you hike up the skirt of your dress, “such good manners, so pretty comin’ from that sweet li'l mouth.” He traced a finger over your panties, running it along the seam of your pussy. You moaned, bucking your hips gently into his finger, and he smiled, tutting. “I know, honey.”

His smile faded when he felt the drenched fabric of your underwear, eyelids drooping slightly when he let out a gruff moan. “This all for me, darlin’? Tastin’ me get you all wet?”

“Y—es,” you managed to choke out, “yes.” His smile reappeared then, clearly proud of himself and infatuated with you. He moved your panties to the side, grazing his finger over your entrance to collect some of your wet before he began to knead your clit.

You grabbed his wrist, whimpering. “Oh! Uh-huh…” Your mouth fell open and you looked up at him from under your eyelashes.

“Don’t look at me, sweetheart—watch me fuck you with my fingers.” Joel lowered his hand from your clit and plunged two fingers into your cunt. You cried out, squeezing his wrist in your hand, feeling so full from only his fingers. You watched him pump his hand, fingers thrusting in and out of you, accompanied by a squelching noise as your cunt wept for him.

“Oh, yes—yes, Mr. Miller—fuck, yes!” You shrilled the only words you could remember, finally throwing your head back in ecstasy, no longer able to abide by the rule Joel had set for you.

“Young li’l cunt,” Joel pawed at himself over his jeans, still focused on the sounds coming from your mouth and your pussy, “fuckin’ tight f’me.” He pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them to your lips and silently encouraging you to lick him clean. You did, taking them both into your mouth and licking your juices off of him. He slipped one more into your mouth, watching you struggle to handle all three, cheeks puffing out.

His hand came down to your hole once more, and this time he pushed all three fingers into you, using your saliva and wet as lubricant to ensure that they all fit securely inside, stretching you out as best he could.

“That’s it…need’a open you up, darlin’,” he watched the effort it took for you to take his fingers, spearing you on the thick digits while you moaned wantonly. “How’ya gonna take my cock if I can barely get my fingers into this pretty pussy?” You bucked your hips into his hand upon hearing his words, striving to make him proud by fucking yourself open. “Good fuckin’ girl.” He watched you bounce your hips back and forth on his hand.  

“Mr. Miller it—fuck, want—want your cock.” You moaned out, wetness dripping from your cunt and onto the fabric of the passenger seat, the moisture sticking to your thighs.

Joel grunted, punching his fingers up into you and making you scream out. “Yeah? Want my cock, let me fuck you nice ’n’deep?” Your eyes rolled back, and you couldn’t be certain if you were more impacted by his movements or his words, both working in tandem to ensure you were made a mess of.

“Yes! Want your cock!” You let your fingers rub circles over your clit, trying to match Joel’s rhythm, however awkward it was due to the center console he had to lean over.

“Can’t fuck you here, sweetheart,” he didn’t stop, “what would people say if they saw a sweet little thing like you taking Mr. Miller’s cock in his truck?” He was teasing, and he pulled the straps of your dress down, letting the fabric bunch and exposing your chest to him. “They’d know what an easy fuckin’ whore you were.”

You whined, back arched, and he slapped your hand away from your clit, taking over completely. “Want them to know—want them to know I’m a whore for you.” You felt filthy, loving every second of it.

“Comin’ to my house, dressed like a slut every fuckin’ time—this what you wanted, girl? Wanted me to use you like a fuckin’ toy?” You felt his fingers make a beckoning motion, curling up inside of you and putting pressure on your g-spot. You scratched at the headrest behind you, slumping down to let Joel have complete and total access to you, letting him use you up to his satisfaction. Moans and whimpers of his name fell from your mouth as he continued his ministrations. “Yeah, you fuckin’ like that, honey—just needed to whore yourself out.”

“I—‘m gonna cum!” You felt the strain in your body increase, muscles tightening at the impending release of all the tension they held.

“Who’re'ya gonna cum for, sweetheart?” Joel pinched your clit before resuming the massage he’d been providing it.

“You, Mr. Miller, gonna c—um for you!”

“Tha’s’right. Cum for Mr. Miller, darlin’. Be a good girl and cum on my fingers.” He was demanding it; telling, not asking, you to soak his hand with your cum. You felt the gratification come to a head, and your back arched further as you cried out his name. Joel watched with wonder, jaw slack, as your cunt clenched around the three fingers he had buried inside of you. He felt himself try to rut against the fabric of his jeans, horny like a teenager after watching you cum for him with such intensity. But he had meant what he said—he couldn’t fuck you here, at this tiny intersection where anybody could wake up, come out, and see you both. As much as he would’ve liked to fuck you there, it was overruled by the want to do it properly, in a more private space.

“Good fuckin’ girl…so good f’me.” Joel slid his fingers out of you, feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm with every movement he made as you continued to squeeze around him. He sucked on his fingers, eager to taste the juices he had pulled from you. Your chest heaved and your body trembled lightly; when you looked up at him and saw him cleaning his fingers off, you found the strength to lean over and take one of the fingers into your own mouth. The two of you licked at each other around his hand, moaning and panting at the indecent display.

He dropped his hand, focusing on you entirely. If you hadn’t been tired before, you were now, and the satisfaction Joel had given you was enough to put you to sleep where you sat, while his lips brushed your neck and cheeks.

“Think I respect you more after that,” you leaned back in your seat, recalling the conversation that had led you to this, throat verging sore after the screams he had pried out of you. “Been wanting you for so long.” You sighed dreamily, looking up at him through hooded eyes and reaching over to fiddle with the collar of his shirt.

“Could’a said so,” Joel took the hand you had on his chest and kissed your palm, “would’a been happy to give you what you needed.” You rubbed at his stubble, and he kissed your hand again before letting it go. He leaned over to help you fix the straps of your dress, covering your breasts. You sat quietly before he started the car, and he continued to drive you home, placing his hand on your thigh again, holding tightly, as if now that he’d seen you in such an amorous, vulnerable way, you’d disappear. You put your hand on top of his, weaving your fingers around it.

When he parked in front of your house, the clock in the truck read 3:08—a drive that should’ve taken two minutes had taken an hour, and you were glad your parents wouldn’t be awake to question why it had taken you so long to get home. Joel looked at you, tired eyes conveying a glint of gratification when he smiled.

“Thanks for the ride.” You found your voice again, leaning towards him to analyze and appreciate his features.

“My pleasure.” He smiled, just barely, and took your chin in his hand. You stared at each other, not yet wanting to get out of the car despite the fatigue you felt all over. “Y’know,” he spoke again, still holding your face, “think I’ll need you to come over tomorrow.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm. Think you’ll be around?”

You smiled, letting yourself melt into his touch when his hand wandered over your cheek. “Yes, Mr. Miller.”

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 22: Aftercare

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Aftercare (🌼✨)

Summary: Matt takes care of you after a particularly rough session.

Warnings: Heavy allusions to smut (18+), mentions of unprotected p in v, mentions of oral sex, aftercare, fluff, light subspace

Word Count: 604

A/n: The next few prompts will come over the next couple of days. I thought I'd get them all done during October, but unfortunately, life got in the way. I'll also start cross-posting on AO3 again once all Fictober fics are out there. So, don't worry, you'll get them, but it will be a few days into November until we're done.

Read Me On AO3! (Coming soon)

You lie bonelessly tangled in silk sheets.

Hours he spent worshipping at the altar between your legs. Hours he spent pounding into you with his cock from behind until he could no longer hold himself up, fucking you deeper into the mattress. At some point, you must have even lost your voice from how the countless orgasms he gave you tore a scream of his name deep from your throat. 

“Here,” Matt murmurs, holding the bottle of cold water to your chapped lips. “Hey. Sweetie, look at me. Stay with me.”

You can barely make out his silhouette in the dark, but even drenched in sweat and with his hair disheveled, he looks like a dream.

“There you go. Hi.” He smiles. “Can you take a sip for me?” Shaky fingers reach for the bottle, and you try to swallow some of the liquid without making a mess. You feel like a child, unable to do anything by herself, but his patience remains unwavering. 

Matt waits until you’ve sufficiently hydrated yourself before gently rolling you back onto your back. He grabs a towel, warm and wet, and starts to wipe the remnants of his cum from your quivering thighs. He’s gentle when he reaches your swollen folds, making sure not to cause you any more discomfort. 

You don’t want to talk—you can’t—and that is fine with him. 

“C’mere.” He wraps a blanket around you. “Do you want me to hold you or would you like to be alone?”

Sometimes, you ask for privacy. Just a few minutes to find back to yourself. Sometimes, you get so overstimulated that even being close to him physically hurts. The things he does to your body are nothing short of unreal, and you don’t always have time to catch up with all the new sensations he manages to pull from you time and time again. 

Tonight thought, you crave him. You crave to be held by him. The words die on your tongue, so you reach out for him instead. 

Matt senses your grabby hands, he could do so from miles away. You’re reaching for him, and it does something to his heart. He slides under the blanket with you, carefully pulling you against his bare chest. “Okay, I’ve got you,” he whispers. “You’re okay.”

You deserve to be taken care of. 

Seconds turn into minutes. His fingers trace invisible patterns on your back. Slowly but steadily, your heartbeat aligns with his. 

“Too much?”

You blink, tilting your head to meet his unfocused hazel eyes; there is always so much guilt, so much uncertainty in them when he can’t quite read you. When he’s scared he might have hurt you. It is a fine line he walks every time he fucks you senseless. 

You manage to weakly shake your head. “It was perfect,” you whisper. 

“Yeah?” He brushes the tip of his thumb along the vein on your temple. 

You smile. “Yeah.”

He loves the way your pulse jumps. The way your heart starts beating faster when he’s around. He loves the sound of your laugh. The smell of your shampoo and perfume. And he loves how you look at him like he’s the only man in the world to you, and he doesn’t have to see to know. 

“I love you,” Matt breathes into the darkness. 

“I love you too,” you say.

Though even without those beautiful three words, he can feel your love in everything you do. In his own way, he sees you, and he could never get tired of the picture his mind has painted of you. 

He could never get tired of you.

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @steve-chandler @lucienofthelakes @xnatyx @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @zomtart @ethereal-blaze

[thatwritterbeach]

One messed up bat pt.1

Dc masterlist all other parts found here

Batfam x femreader Jason x reader eventually

Warnings: angst, self harm, self hate, depression,

Summary:Y/n gets caught self harming by Damian, and Tim calls in some backup

A/N: I do not own dc booohooo ooc Tim, I don't spend much time watching/reading his robin sorry **^ so I can't remember if it's canon or from a fic but at this point who cares the storyline is all fucked so in this story I'm saying that Jason tried to call dick for help with his mom but dick was asleep/didn't pick up so Jay went alone and died, now Dick CAN NOT miss a phone call it sends him into a panic attack, thank you for coming to my trauma talk

ok so we all know the timeline is shit so this is the ages for this story only found it on a reddit post, fight me at dawn if you don't like it

Bruce Wayne (Batman) at 45

Barbara Gordon (Oracle) at 27

Dick Grayson (Nightwing) at 25

Jason Todd (Red Hood) at 22

Tim Drake (Red Robin) at 18

Damian Wayne (Robin) at 11

Y/n 21

not my gif^

(2 weeks ago)

"Y/n, you can't keep acting like a child you're twenty-one," Dick whisper shouted in the corner of the batcave.

"Dick, I'm not going to apologize for helping people-"

"You disobeyed a direct order. You could have been hurt, you can't be that kind of influence to Tim and Damian."

"You don't even live here, Dick, you can't just-"

"You're benched until further notice."

"You can't-"

"Benched," Bruce confirmed stepping over to them.

(1 week ago)

"Hey, Dick, do you have a sec," she asked into the phone then immediately bit firmly into her hand to hold back a sob.

"You're still benched," he said without remorse.

"That's not-you know what never mind." She hung up on him and threw the phone onto her bed heading to her en-suite bathroom to release the itch.

(present)

"Beloved! Beloved, look I-," Damian shouted with glee but cut himself off with a scream when he opened her unlocked bathroom door. He thought she was doing her face masks not...in the bathtub with blood dripping from her arms into pink bubble filled water.

"Damian wait," she called after his retreating form. Shit, shit. She hurried to drain the water and throw on her over sized t-shirt just managing to pull some boxers on when Damian burst back in with Tim, practically dragging him into the space.

"Damian what's the problem-"

"Fix her," he shouted with haste and was about to shove Tim into the room when he noticed y/n standing there looking fine.

"Damian, I'm ok, I promise," she tried to convince him softly. He looked from her to the tub, not even a drop of evidence in sight.

"No, you-I saw the blood. Tim she cut herself I saw it," he told the older boy trying to lunge for her arm but she side stepped him.

"Damian, give us a minute," Tim tried to gently shoo him away. Damian shook his head aggressively and latched himself onto her side, clinging to her like a koala. She combed her fingers through his hair and gently detangled him.

"Dami, Tim and I just need to have a quick chat, he's gonna fix me right up, aren't you, Tim," she asked, sending him a look that clearly gave direction.

"Yeah, kid, I'll take care of her, she'll be right as rain."

"You won't hurt yourself again?" He was giving her puppy eyes, looking his own age for once and it pulled on her heart strings.

"I won't," she agreed patting him on the head and crossing her fingers behind her back with the other hand. Damian gave her one last hug then hurried out of the room. There was an awkward silence as Tim stood blocking the doorway, his jaw ticking and toe nearly tapping.

"You know I have to tell."

"Please don't." She shook her head then grabbed the first aid kit beneath the sink.

"Let me," he said softly, taking it from her and getting out the supplies. When she set her arm on the counter for him to work he sucked in a breath. "Those are deep," he accused.

"I wasn't trying anything. I'm not stupid, just a heavy bleeder." She rolled her eyes where he couldn't see and hissed when he dumped alcohol on her arm.

"They almost need stitches."

"Butterfly stickers are fine," she said digging them out of the kit one handed.

"I at least have to tell Dick-"

"NO," she said so firm he actually stepped back to look at her.

"I have to tell someone, I can't watch you 24/7."

"I don't need babysat," she seethed.

"I can tell Bruce or I can tell Dick first. Either way you aren't doing this alone."

"I cant stop you?"

"Not a chance."

"Dick told me I needed to be a better influence for you. Sorry for fucking that up, but to be fair there's worse things about me. I tried to call him a week ago, I was feeling the um...the 'itch' so to speak but as soon as he picked up he told me I was still benched. I was so pissed that he immediately thought that's what I called for I told him never mind and hung up. You can't tell him that, after Jason you know he-"

"Hates missing phone calls," Tim finished for her. **^

Tim had every intention of telling him, he knew it would hurt but come on, she tried to get help. Of course she didn't ask anyone in the house, but he wasn't about to be offended she didn't ask the child or his newly adult self for help, and he sure as hell got the not wanting to tell Bruce.

"Why not Alfred?"

"Hmm?"

"Why didn't you go to Alfred for help."

"He deals with enough shit from the rest of you, coming in half dead each night."

"That doesn't mean you come second, and sure as hell not last, we love you."

"Yeah, well it doesn't feel like it most of the time." He was finished with her arm and she resisted the urge to yank it away from him. One of Jason's flannel was on a towel hook on the wall and she quickly put it on to hide the bandages.

"I'm gonna go make sure Dami's ok," she said gently moving him out of the way. The second she was gone he hurried back to his room for his phone, that he'd left on the charger and yanked the cord out. He hit speed dial 3, Dick's cell, and held the phone to his ear while he headed out on his balcony to totally not scale down the wall instead of taking the stairs. Dick picked up on the 4th ring with a tired sigh and a 'this better be good' Tim told him to wait a sec while he got way out of hearing range.

"Did Y/n call you last week?"

"Uh, yeah, why?"

"Did you jump her case and not give her a second to speak?"

"You sound a bit pissed timbers, cut to it and tell me what I did. I haven't slept in 37 and a half hours."

"And you call me an idiot," he snorted.

"Tick tock bro," Dick mumbled head already sinking into his pillow.

"She'd been cutting herself and she called you to ask for help, well, she didn't say that word, but she was calling to tell you what she'd been doing to herself," Tim stated with little to no remorse for the heart attack he'd just given his brother.

"She what," Dick shouted throwing off the blankets and grabbing his go bag.

"I assume you'll catch the next train?" The sound of Dick falling and cursing while he hopped into pants could be heard and Tim nodded and hung up. Thankfully because the author said so Dick had switched from his police job to a remote roll in Wayne industries he just stayed in Bludhaven to have his independence and not deal with Bruce more than he had to. Alfred insisted he come for monthly dinners and he did.

Tim went back inside to hunt for Y/n and Damian and found them having mugs of hot chocolate together on the kitchen counter.

"So, you're ok," Damian asked in a small voice using a stir stick to hold his marshmallows under the liquid.

"I told you, Tim fixed me, and he probably ran off to call Dick so he could come make double sure I'm ok. You don't need to worry, I promise I'll always be here to have hot cocoa with," she replied, crossing her heart and holding out her pinkie to him. He hooks his with hers and to her surprise continued to hold on, not moving to actually hold her hand but simply letting their hands rest on the counter pinkies linked. Not wanting to interrupt Tim quietly made his way back out, he still had some calls to make.

Jason picked didn't pick up on the first call, or the second but finally on the third he answered out of breath and with gunshots loud in the foreground.

"The hell dya' want," he all but shouted into the line dodging hits and getting in several of his own.

"Sorry, I'll call back later-"

"No, talk now, I got it under *way too loud thud* control."

"Just uh, get here as quick as you can, nobodies dying so-"

"Make it quick but don't freak, got it." And he hung up. Next was Bruce who surprise surprise didn't answer a call or text, so Tim left a message.

"Get off Selena and come help your kid," he said with more aggression than snark. (this doesn't feel at all like something Tim would say but i'm not familiar enough with his character to fix it)

This time when he went to the kitchen it was just Y/n on the counter Damian had gone who knows where.

"So who all did you tell?"

"Just Dick so far, he's on his way. Jason was in the middle of a fight so he's coming later but I didn't tell him and Bruce didn't pick up-"

"Shocker, dude nabs all these kids then can't be bothered to spend time with them outside of a Halloween costume," she scoffed rolling her eyes.

"You're not wrong but-"

"Oh, don't start Stan." She waved him off hopping down to wash the mugs not willing to leave them for Alfred.

9-20-24

[madamechrissy]

Take Me Home Tonight

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Law Professor Satoru Gojo x Student Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Gojo is like 29 here, reader is like 22 or 23. Nothing too crazy. But is Professor/teacher forbidden type love. In this chap- Fingering, teasing, orgasm denialexplicit sex, breeding kink, desperate needy GOJO (ANGSTY CHAP)

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 8.8k

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ After passing your LSATs, your friends take you out to unwind. You never go out, so you are awkwardly agree, and you end up in the arms of a super hot man named Satoru. You end up screaming Satoru's name as he drops down on his knees before you, only to lose him in the club. All you have is his first name. Two months later, in your Criminal Law class, your heart stops. Your teacher? Professor Gojo. Or as you soon call him, Professor Dickhead. You can't fuck up your law school, and he won't fuck up his career, not just because he makes you wet in class, no, he's a dick. Right? That pout and blue eyes don't wreck you, right? - Lawyer AU

Chapter 10 ♡ ♡ Masterlist ♡ ♡ Playlist

♡ ♡ Chapter 11 ♡ ♡

Present

You both stand there now, right in front of Dean Yaga, who is sitting at his desk with your fight with Naoya on the damn tv, pausing when you both kiss after you’ve smacked him with a briefcase. Satoru’s hands are in his pockets, and he’s rolling his pretty blue eyes, as you nervously look down at your feet, as you clench your fists, opening and closing them, panic setting in.

Satoru was going to hate what you’ve done.

The evening before

“Hello?” You’d answered the door tentatively last night, after an exhausting trip back home with Satoru, and you instantly recognized these two, there was no denying the resemblance. This woman with snow white hair and dark blue eyes, and the man with silvery gray hair and brilliant blue eyes.

Fuck.

Those are Gojo’s eyes, except where Gojo’s were so kind, these two had the coldest gaze, so cold it made you shiver just to stand near them. They just stand there, too, looking so intimidating you shrink back now, haughty with this air that Gojo certainly did not have, looking right down their perfect straight noses right at you.

Satoru Gojo’s mom is decked out in some white fur coat, giving some wicked Cruella Duvill vibes, and his dad is wearing an expensive suit, arching a brow as he looks you up and down. They both spare you no pleasantries whatsoever, merely crossing their arms and looking at you with disgust.

“So you’re the new little whore, hmm?” His father asks, and it’s your turn to glare as you stand in your dorm, clutching onto this brass knob, your hand sweaty against it as you endure them.

“Excuse me? Watch your tone, I don’t care how much money you have, you don’t get to speak to me that way.” You say then, earning a raised brow and shared look between them.

“You’re the reason our son now has a record, and has embarrassed the family. You’re also the reason he lost that case, and are straining relationships with the Zenin now.” His father says, and you shrink back then.

“The source of all his problems.” His mom says, eyeing you critically. “He’s been talking of marrying you, imagine.”

Your heart drops.

What?

“As if we’d let you be in our family. A commoner, an orphan.” You blink back tears, as they sting your eyes, stepping back from the onslaught of Gojo’s mother and father.

“How…”

“Oh, we know all about you.” They push their way through as Gojo’s father scoffs and shivers like your dorm is so disgusting, shutting the door behind them. You step back, their presence is fucking horrific. “Isn’t hard to get information.”

How had Satoru ever had to endure these people!?

“Sure, let yourselves in.” You grumble, as they stand there, arms crossed, glaring at you. “I’m sorry about that fight, okay? Naoya threatened me and Satoru just wanted to protect me.”

“Why were you even there?” His mom asks. You sigh.

“I’m a good law student, and was helping Gojo with his case-”

“By spreading your legs and making him think he’ll marry you?” His dad asks sardonically, making you damn near sob right then, your heart pounding in your chest so hard you hear it in your ears.

“You have no clue about our relationship, and no clue who your son even is. Do you know all the hard work he puts in!?”

“So we’ll give you two options.” His mom sits now, daintily on your couch, whipping out her purse now, then she pulls out four fat wads of cash in rubber bands and tosses it at you. It hits you in the face, and you catch it, your eyes widening in horror.

“What’s this for, I don’t fucking want that!” You demand as your blood pressure is rising and making you hot, and when Gojo’s mom smiles, it’s so cold it’s eerie it sends shivers down your spine.

“Take this, it’s forty thousand. Plenty to leave and go to some other law school, it’s your best offer. We’ll make sure no one knows about you and our son, and you can start over somewhere else. Far away from here. Far from Gojo. You’ll never see him again, and you will never talk to him.” She says, as Gojo’s dad nods, his eyes unwavering.

You clutch the money, so much you can feel your knuckles pop, your eyes narrowed into slits now with anger at them. At their audacity, at their blatant cruelty, wanting their son so unhappy. “What the fuck kind of option is that!? Why do you get to determine your son’s fate! He’s thirty!”

“If you don't, we force him to quit, and come work for the family, and we’ll make sure everyone knows about the slutty little whore who tries to ruin our son’s career. We’ll make your life a living hell, and Gojo will be at our beck and call. We know people worse than Naoya, we’ll make sure if Gojo doesn’t, you’ll be gone for good.” You feel horror clutching at your chest at their words, especially Gojo’s mother.

You realize now, that they had paid for Naoya to win, and forced Gojo’s hand, a suspicion you had beforehand. They likely knew what the fuck Naoya has done, and that’s why he was acting so smug, because he had Gojo’s family backing him. He’d already made bail mysteriously, it all starts to make more and more sense, as their despicable nature makes you sick.

Fuck them. Fuck all of them.

You toss the money at Gojo’s mom’s face, and she flinches, her nose turning up, and you’re so mad, so mad you want to just scream and beat them to a pulp. “I’d never take a dime from you, and I’m not going anywhere. If you want to keep him out of my life, you’re going to have to go through me, and I dare you to try it.” Her fury radiates in your little dorm.

“You stupid little bitch!” His mom stands up, slapping you in the face then, you suck in a breath at it, glaring, it takes everything in you not to punch Satoru’s mom in her pretty, snobby little face.

“You have no right to control him, and you will never control me. You think just because you have power that you have power over your son’s happiness?”

Their eyes widen, and Gojo’s dad stands, so does his mom, and you realize you’ve made a mistake. You’re shaking so badly you might just collapse. “We’ll ruin you. We’ll tell everyone how you seduced our son, how you’re just a little whore, trying to get what you can get, and you’ll be kicked out of law school. Your career will be over before it started, and guess who will come back to us to save you?”

“Gojo will do anything for you. Is that what you want for him?” His dad says, and you feel sick, like you can’t even breathe as you stare at them.

“You all are fucking awful. You ruin me all you want, leave him the fuck alone.” You stomp over to the door, going to open it, and Gojo’s mom yanks you by your hair, making you gasp in pain and surprise. You glare up at her, and she’s smirking down at you then.

“Sounds like we’ll get him back with us, then, but trust us, we won’t have poverty trash in our family.” She hisses.

“You don’t have a say in his life. He’s done fine without you, fuck I’d prefer an orphanage over you two.” His mom shoves you into the door now, glaring down at you once more, and at this point his father is just looking at his nails so casually, as if this is common for her.

“You have a big mouth. Want it shut forever?” He asks softly, and you look over to him in horror.

“You all are not fucking serious. Death threats?”

“Promises. We need you gone, Dean Yaga already is set to transfer you far away, we paid him off.” Gojo’s mom’s words are like knives in your stomach, you feel nausea rolling over you in waves.

“If you really love him, you won’t put yourself in more danger.” His dad says, and you start to feel your entire body on fire, as they shove that money back in your hands, gripping your hands into fists.

“Why? What have I even done, you don’t even know me. You don’t even know your own son. What sort of parents are you?” You demand quietly, because now you wonder what the fuck they’ve done to him, now Gojo sobbing about how he doesn’t help anyone makes perfect sense.

They’d put that in his head, the insecurity Gojo hides behind shiny white teeth and a cocky attitude, one you now have learned is a cover, an act, so that he doesn’t get hurt. But Gojo could drop that act with you, fuck Gojo had said forever just the other night, and now they want to destroy it, destroy the happiness you’ve found, and if you don’t go along with it…

They’ll hurt him.

“We let him be a lawyer if you go. You want that, don’t you?” His mom asks, and you’re sobbing now, so broken as you imagine what they’ve done to the man you love growing up. How had he become such an amazing person from them?

“Please don’t do this. I swear I would be good to him. I’ll give up school, law, don’t make me give up Toru.” You beg, sobbing now, tears running hot and sticky out of reddening eyes. They show no caring, no remorse, staring at you with cold eyes that look like Gojo’s, but they couldn’t be further.

“Toru, huh? Well if you love him, you’ll leave.” They shove you, and they walk out, and you collapse on the couch, crying into your hands, feeling so damn pathetic, so helpless, so alone. They had so much power, so much control, and here you were, just trying to be with the goddamn man you love, and it’s like the world is against you.

You can’t do this to Satoru. You can’t.

You sob and sob and sob, and ignore Gojo’s calls, until you shut your phone off for the night. How can you do that to him, how can you be so selfish you ruin his life? Remembering that moment he left that courtroom for you, and that now he has damn near ruined his career to protect you…

Were they right?

Were you horrible for him!?

Present

“You’ve made a smart decision, transferring.” The Dean says then, and Gojo’s mouth drops, sputtering as he looks at you in shock. You struggle not to break into the tears you’d been in this morning, as you watch the love of your life slowly lose his mind over your actions.

“What the fuck!? No she won’t be! This is the best law school-”

“In Japan. Not worldwide.” He cuts Satoru off, and your eyes squeeze shut as you know Satoru is going to fucking lose it.

“Excuse me!?” Satoru screams, slamming his fist on Dean Yaga’s desk now, and you can’t control the tears that fall anymore, you just sniffle them up.

“America, Harvard law. You can’t get more prestigious-”

Gojo cuts him off with a maniacal laugh, mirthless as he runs his hand through his white hair. “America! America? The fuck?”

Dean Yaga strokes his beard with his hand, sighing and leaning back in his office chair. “It’s her best shot, she’ll be hugely successful and as far away from you as she can be. Her other option is to never do law again, and forgo any financial aid for school ever again, disbarred for life.”

Satoru picks up Dean Yaga’s papers, flinging them all across the room, floating around in the quiet office. “Then I’ll leave. Then I’ll move with her.”

“You’ll stay here if you even want her to have that chance, or her career is ruined forever.” Satoru turns to you then, gripping your shoulders, staring at you with insane blue eyes, shattering your heart into pieces.

“You can’t have been okay with this, where’s the fighter? Where’s the girl that smacked that piece of shit Naoya with the briefcase? Where is forever?” He demands, tears filling his own eyes as he shakes you, and you just shatter, unable to even look at him, turning away and burying your face, sobs wracking your body as he shouts your name.

“Leave her be, she made the best decision for both of you, and it clearly was not an easy one. If she didn’t you’d lose your license to do law, and both of your careers, Satoru.” He says, and you hear Satoru’s fist punch something then, making you jerk from the noise.

“Fuck that, really after all I’ve done? You don’t have the power to get rid of my license.”

“I don’t, but others do. She made the right decision. If you care about her you’ll support that, and you won’t conduct yourself this way again with a student.”

Satoru scoffs then, as you peer at him through watery eyes. “As if I’d want anyone else. Nah fuck this, I’ll just leave law, then-”

“Toru, you can’t, you can’t.” You say pleadingly, looking at him with growing fear, of what his parents will do if he won’t. “Toru I chose this.”

He glares now, shaking his head and grabbing your face between his hands, palms freezing cold on your face. “No, you didn’t! He did!”

“It wasn’t even-”

“No! You won’t go anywhere.”

“She will be prestigious, it’s an ideal situation for her, a full ride scholarship to Havard law? Kids like her from such a background can only dream of it.” Dean Yaga says, and Satoru goes to punch him then, only stopped by you yanking on him desperately.

“Toru, no. Please.” You whisper, pleadingly holding his shoulders, and he stops then, heaving breaths, shaking his head again as if to wake up.

“This won’t stand.” Satoru says, and Yaga sighs, rubbing old tired eyes. “You want her to leave everything she knows?”

“She already is set to start in a week. She’ll be better off, Satoru. Now, you’re both dismissed.” He says, and you run out, as Satoru is chasing you, but how do you say it? How do you leave!? The only place you ever felt like home.

“Stop fucking running, stop it.” Satoru yanks you then, his eyes full of confusion and hurt, then when you pull out that envelope from your laptop case, and hand it to him, and he opens it and sees the money, his face drops. You watch realization dawn when he opens it and sees the money. “No…”

“I don’t want it. You take it and burn it for all I care. But yes, if I don’t do this, if I don’t leave and never see you again, Gojo they’ll force you back to the company, and they’ll… get rid of me. Forever. This is our best option so you can still do what you love, I can’t take that from you.” You whisper, and his entire face falls, his beautiful face so forlorn it devastates you.

“The fuck, what’d they say? What’d they do to make you run like this?” The courtyard is gathering around the spectacle that is you two now, and he’s just pulling you closer, cupping your face, struggling to understand.

“They were threatening me, and you if I don’t disappear… they’re horrible, those connections with the Zenin, they have too much power, I can’t let them hurt you-”

“Nah, fuck this. Fuck all of this.” He stomps back into the office, and you follow him, trying to stop him as he slams back into the Dean’s office.

“Satoru…” The Dean says tiredly, and Satoru laughs then at him, yanking off the lanyard and slamming it down.

“I fucking quit.” He says, turning then and the dean stands up.

“You won’t quit, or she won’t even go to Harvard. That’s not an option, or part of our agreement.”

“You’re fucking in on this with my parents, aren’t you?” He demands, looking at him, only for the dean to look down.

“I’m sorry, Satoru but-”

“You are, you are with my parents, and for how long!? They were in your pockets, they weren’t deep enough?” He asks through gritted teeth, big fists clenched so hard you see the veins are raised.

“Listen to me, this is how you stay away from charges, of not just being with a student, but purposefully throwing a case and assault on Naoya. You’ll do potential prison time.” He says then, and Satoru laughs, even crazier.

“I’d lawyer my way out of it, who do you think I am? I’m Satoru Gojo, I can do whatever the hell I want.”

“Then your reputation is ruined. At least this way, your parents will fix it and sweep it under the rug, but only if she leaves. Don’t you see she’s sacrificing herself for you? Don’t be stupid, take this opportunity-”

“You think I care about myself? Nah, fuck you. Oh and let my parents know I’m visiting, we’re gonna have a nice chat.” He drags you by the hand as he walks out, rushing past groups of onlookers and eavesdroppers, and he takes you all the damn way until you’re in front of his car, finally letting you catch a breath.

“Satoru just let me go. You’ll ruin your life for me, don’t do that please!” You’re a mess now, feeling your throat constrict, your chest tightening as you beg the man you love to just let you go.

He cups your face then tightly, staring down at you, his eyes a whirlwind of emotions. “I’ll do anything for you, anything. You’re my life, you, baby. There’s nothing else for me. Why can’t you see that?”

“Oh, Toru…” You’re sobbing now, as he slams his lips on yours, as he hungrily pulls you against him, kissing you over and over, and you melt then, how can you leave him, how could you live? “I don’t know how I’d live without you. My oxygen, my sun, gone.” He’s trembling as he keeps kissing you, pressing you against his car, to a growing audience.

“There’s no living without me, brat. You can’t get rid of me.” He says then, and you both laugh through your tears, desperately clinging to him, as his strong arms wrap your waist, as you are terrified of what the fuck was going to happen, but all you can think is how good he feels, how you can’t let him go.

The murmurs of the onlookers are just static in a television to the sound of your and Gojo’s labored breaths as you stare into each other’s eyes. You know he’s upset you thought of it, of giving up, because of your fear of him being hurt, and fuck if that doesn’t cut deep.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I should have told you, I-”

“No, no, I understand. They’re pieces of shit, and intimidating. Did they hurt you, baby girl?” He whispers, caressing your cheek, and you shake your head, throat tight with emotion as he bends low over you.

“Your mom just slapped me and pulled my hair, that’s it.” Gojo’s grip tightens as you speak, his teeth clenching together, pretty features devastated.

“The fuck?” He bites out.

“Nothing harsh, she’s kinda weak. Prissy. A bitch.” Satoru smiles sharply then, through his own emotion, brushing back your hair and taking shaky breaths as if stroking your hair calms him too. As if he needed you to be real, just like you needed him to be.

“You sure could say that. Now go get your shit, you’re moving in with me.” You gasp in shock, he can’t be serious.

“I can’t!” You say, and he shrugs, kissing you softly, over and over, until for a moment you’re just a girl in his arms.

“You sure can. I’m so rich I could never work again, so fuck all this, and they’ll have you out of here anyway. You’re packing your shit today. And I’ll figure my piece of shit parents out.”

“They’re dangerous, Toru.” You whisper, and he sighs, his lips set firmly.

“I know they are, you have no clue how dangerous, but you underestimate me, little brat you know that?” He is opening the car door then, looking back at the growing crowd of students. “We have an audience, how cute… you really want them to watch us fuck?”

“Satoru oh my god, how can you think about that right now?” You demand, sliding in the seat now, a blushing mess, and he smirks, buckling you up, leaning down across you, as you inhale that scent, the one you never want to leave your senses. He slides next to you then, on his side, starting the car with a purr.

“You think I don’t always want you? You think I would let you leave me?” He starts the air, it blows cold on your overheated skin, leaning across to kiss you once more, so deeply, and you exhale, pressing up for more, as he ignites that tension in your tummy. “You won’t leave me.”

“I don’t want to, I’d be miserable for the rest of my life, Toru, but I love you so much I had to try to protect you.” He laughs softly, thumbs brushing aside the fresh onslaught of tears, then over your swollen lip, pulling it from your teeth.

“It’s my job to protect you, not the other way around.”

“No, it’s our jobs to protect each other, stubborn man.” You whisper, resting your foreheads together as he caresses your waist with his long, gentle fingers, hands overtaking it, your breaths intermingling.

“We will figure it the fuck out together, do you hear me? Now, you’re grabbing what you need for the night, we’ll get the rest of your shit out tomorrow.” Your heart races at his insane plan, was there a plan really?

“This is fucking insane. What’s our game plan?” You ask softly, and he just smirks down at you.

“That’s for me to worry about.”

“Satoru, don't you dare try to sacrifice yourself or something! You can’t go work for them.”

“You mean like you just tried to sacrifice yourself?” He demands, raising a brow, then he dials a number as he begins to drive, making you tense. “Yeah, it sure the fuck is me, your favorite son. Heard you met my fiance?”

Fiance!?

You’re staring with your mouth wide open, brows raised, as he winks over at you, so casually controlling the car and the phone, where you can hear the muffled noises of his mother’s screams.

“Mmm, here’s the thing mom, if you remember correctly, at age thirty I get half your company, as long as I get married. Remember? Mmm, so guess who’s hearing wedding bells.”

Your heart stops.

“You’re marrying her?” You hear the shriek clearly, making Satoru’s mouth quirk up at one corner.

“Sure the fuck am, and you knew that, that’s why you went after her. But you’ve gone way too far, smack me all you want but you don’t touch her. So guess what I’m gonna do with my half when I get my shares? Run your company into the fucking ground, till you have nothing.”

Satoru’s voice is so calm it’s eerie, and you realize how much power Satoru has, how much he’s been holding back, and your love for him grows more, as your hand rests on his thigh, encouraging him.

“Oh so now you wanna talk, huh? What a turn of events, you’re so sweet to wanna see me, Mother. Oh she’ll be with me, all right, so you can fix it, you’re gonna fix all this shit if you don’t want me to ruin you.” He hangs up, tossing the phone into the backseat, and you just stare at him, your heart racing, your breathing erratic.

“Fiancé? Did you just say that to piss them off?” You whisper, and he looks at you with a soft smile, eyes full of warmth.

“No, I said that because it’s the truth, baby girl. The best way to protect you, is to marry you.”

“Marry… marry me?” You whisper, and he sighs, stopping in front of your dorm now. “But they hate me, that won’t just go away, Toru…”

His phone rings, and he sighs, scowling at it, as you lean back to grab it, handing it over to him. “Yeah, what? I sure do fucking quit. Oh, did my mommy call you, how charming Yaga. You can fuck yourself with your dumbass offer. Oh I’m so popular suddenly, you wanna meet with me? Well you’ll have to wait, I have to fuck my fiance tonight. She’s not my student right now anyway.”

Satoru smashes his thumb down angrily, chest heaving, leaning his head back then and covering his face. “Toru, baby, look at me.”

He lets you lift his hands from his eyes, which are full of a myriad of emotions, you feel his pulse race under your thumb as you cup his jaw, your thumb right on his pulse point. “Now Yaga wants to make a better deal, but guess what, I’m just in my parents pockets here. Even when I wanted to be on my fucking own.”

“You’ve done this on your own, jesus I don’t know how you turned out this amazing, they’re fucking awful. I couldn’t stand ten minutes.” He places his hand on your chest, over your beating heart now. “So we’re meeting them?”

“Sure are, but you’ll have a ring on your finger.”

“That’s insane talk you know!”

“Is it? Is it? I would marry you right now. They can go fuck themselves, all of it can burn to the ground for all I care if it means you’re safe and happy. They can’t take that from me, they can’t take you from me.” He says, and you feel your heart swell in your chest, feeling a spark of hope amidst the chaos.

“You shouldn’t have to do all of this for me.” You say, forlornly looking down, and he squeezes your leg, bringing your attention to him, as those lights from the sun filter through the tinted windows of his car, illuminating the planes of his perfect features, taking your breath away for a moment.

How could you have left?

But you’re so scared for him.

“What, marry you?” His words alone make you tremble, they seem so insane, you try to process it.

“That can’t be what you wanted, how you wanted-”

“You think I don’t want to? You think this is just for protection?”

“Well it’s crazy, we barely just got together! We…”

“Do you want to?” He says then, softly, and you hear his vulnerability, you see it on his handsome face.

“Do I want to marry Satoru Gojo? Yes, of course I do. But because we want to one day, not forced to.”

“There’s no forcing it, just speeding up the process. You think there’s anyone for me, ever again?” He demands, and you sigh, shaking your head.

“I know you love me, I know how much. And Satoru I love you even more.”

“You can’t. There’s no way. You consume me. I’ll burn the shit to the ground for you, baby. Now, let’s grab your shit and get you home.”

Home.

****

Satoru is pouring you a drink that evening, as he has a marriage licence right on the table, Suguru had sped the process up for him. He’s there now, sighing as he looks at the two of you, and Satoru hands him a drink too. “Stay a while, Sugu.”

“One drink, then I have to go.” He sits next to you, and gently pats your shoulder, smiling sadly. “You okay, love?”

You take a sip of your drink, holding his hand for a moment and taking a shaky little breath. “Overwhelmed, confused, scared… but not even about not becoming a lawyer, more scared for my white haired angry boy.”

He snorts, and Satoru scowls at you both. “You two are chummy.”

“He’s your best friend, didn’t you all cuddle?” You tease, making Suguru scowl now, as Satoru’s scowl turns into a wolfy grin, wiggling his brows.

“We never cuddled, the fuck Toru.”

“Baby boy you were drunk, it’s okay.” He blows Suguru a kiss, and he rolls his eyes, sipping his drink.

“You sure you wanna marry this guy? He’s an idiot.” Suguru says, earning another glare and now a middle finger, Suguru holds back his laughter, and fuck it’s nice to just relax for a moment, in the middle of a shitstorm.

“You’re mad I’m off the market baby.”

“So sad about that. You two really going to do this?” He says then, looking between you both, and you hold Satoru’s hand, letting him squeeze it so reassuring.

Your husband.

Satoru Gojo?

It seems like some silly thing you doodled in your notebook.

“I’m sure, absolutely. I know it’s crazy, but… he’s crazy.” You smile back at Suguru, and he chuckles, sipping his drink again.

“You love it, brat.” He yanks you on his lap then, and you squeal at that, as he sits your right on him, dragging you down for a kiss. “Admit it.”

“No, Professor.” You whisper, and Suguru clears his throat, standing, and you wiggle to get off but Satoru pins your hips. Suddenly you feel so hot, especially as the alcohol is hitting your tummy.

“You two are too much to be around together, christ. But… you know, I have never seen two people like this, like magnets. So you won’t hear complaints from me, even if it’s fucking insane.” You melt at that, at his warm brown eyes smiling at you both. “Fuck if I don’t want that. Just… much less drama.”

“Aww, Suguru!” You stand, fighting Satoru’s hands off then, stepping over to Suguru. “Your support means alot, truly.”

“Of course, he’s my best friend. And fuck if I don’t hate his parents as much as he does. I’m guessing some courthouse wedding?”

“Yeah, that’s how it’ll have to be, we can always do something big later.”

“I am good with a shitty little courthouse wedding.” You say, and Suguru smiles, coming to hug you then.

“It’ll turn out okay, I’ll help as much as I can.”

“You better be there, not like we have many people coming. Need a witness.” Satoru says as Suguru pats your back.

“A witness huh?”

“He means a best man. Don’t you, Professor Dickhead?” You scowl at him, and he chuckles.

“I mean Best Man, absolutely. I know Nanami won’t come.”

“Mmm, let me talk to him. I’m meeting him in a few, he’s pretty upset about what he’s heard. He was worried about you.” Suguru says, and you flush a bit.

“You have the hots for Nanami too? Slutty student.” Gojo earns a smack, simply yanking you back on his lap, so intimate you’re embarrassed.

“Me, slutty? You!”

“Alright lovebirds, or should I say jailbirds?” You both laugh at that, and Suguru finishes his drink, setting it down on the sleek black table with a click. “I’m off to let Nanami know. Call you all later?”

“Thank you for your help, buddy.” He’s kissing down your neck, and you try to pull back, but Suguru is already leaving.

“At this rate I’ll be a Godfather.” He shouts, earning another laugh from Satoru, who is now sliding his big hands up your waist, splaying your ribcage, your body instantly responds.

You’re hot between your thighs, as desire pools in your core, your nipples perk right up for him, and his eyes go right there, as he presses kisses along your chest, making you whine out softly. He moans at the sound, gripping you tighter, his snowy white lashes lowering as his gaze gets lidded with desire.

“You like that idea, being a mommy, don’t you Miss Brat?” He purrs those words, and you bite your lower lip, wriggling just so, earning his eyes shutting tightly, before looking back up at you, his eyes hazy storms.

“You just wanna knock me up and keep me home.” He grins wide, his teeth glinting as he shocks you then, picking you up. You wrap your legs around him, clinging to his shoulders, your fingers gripping on the soft material of his fancy dress shirt, as you’re pressed against him.

“Don’t worry, you’ll still get to be a lawyer, I promise you I’ll make sure it happens, okay baby?” You blink back tears, sucking in a breath as he carries you to his bed, kissing you over and over, until you’re consumed by him, but when weren’t you consumed by your Toru?

“I know. Mnh. I know.” You whisper back, as he lays you on the bed now, eagerly unbuttoning your white blouse, pulling it apart to reveal the black lace bra underneath. He moans softly, licking his lower lip, before lapping at the lace with a hot tongue, lavishing your nipples through the fabric.

You’re moaning at the pleasure, your body arching up, as he yanks the cups down, mouth latches onto one, biting gently, making you whine and writhe as he plays you so well, his hot hungry mouth devouring you. He’s lavishing the other one now, as his hands are moving down, his thumbs hooking under the waistband of your skirt, pulling it down your legs, which tremble for him.

“You’re so beautiful, baby girl. So beautiful, you make me want to break you.” He whispers against your skin, and your eyes widen at that, your body tensing at the tone, it ends up making you even wetter.

“Break me? Toru, you make me sound so fragile.” You whisper, your voice shaky as his hands slide up your legs, pushing aside your underwear, and his thumbs press against your swollen clit, it twitches under his touch, as your hips buck up, your head falling back, exposing your throat to him.

Satoru is kissing down your throat, biting at your pulse point now, you’re soaking his hand as he continues torturous circles, when you want more, you want his cock inside you. You want him to fuck you so good you forget every problem you both have, want him to fill you.

He keeps you on edge, smirking against your collar bone as he feels you getting so needy, so whiny. “You are so fragile, so perfect. You’re mine, all mine. You’re not leaving me again.” He says, his voice a gruff whisper, and you realize he’s still upset about what happened, of course he is.

“I should… mmm… have told you. I was s-scared… Toru, fuck! Please, more, please!” You beg, as he continues his little circles, leaning up and looking at you. You unbutton his shirt with shaky hands, sliding it half way down his shoulders, and he shrugs it off, pulling your underwear down.

Satoru leans back and is spitting on your exposed pussy now, the hot saliva dripping down, his fingers move faster finally as he spreads it around, eyeing your cunt hungrily. You’re wordlessly arching your hips up, begging for his fingers, and finally he slides two in, just barely, making you grind down on them, his eyes watching you, so intense you feel like you’re going to combust.

“Please, Satoru, I’m sorry, I just didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know how to handle them, I just-” Satoru shoves his fingers deep. “Ah!”

“You can’t ever leave me, baby, don’t you know?” He leans over you, that madness on his face, his movements frantic, and your eyes roll back, your legs twitching as he works you so good you’re close, so close.

“T-Toru… yes, there, fuck I- Ah!” He yanks his fingers back then, and you cry out in emptiness, as your cunt now pulses around nothing, staring at him with wide eyes, and he’s grinning. “Please…”

“I think you need a lesson, even if you’re not my student right now. A lesson about always trusting me, yeah?” You take several breaths, overwhelmed, looking into his eyes, then his mouth crashes onto yours, his tongue delving in deep, and your words are stuck, lost into his mouth as you kiss him like your life depends on it, clinging to him.

And it does, his love is the air you breathe.

Your hands are in his silky white hair, and his hot lips are kissing down your neck, down your chest, his teeth scraping over your skin as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking it into a tight little peak again, making you arch up with a cry of pleasure. You cling to him desperately, lost in the madness that is Satoru Gojo’s energy, his passion, his love.

“Please. Please.” You beg now, and he shoves his fingers back in, curling them up and hitting your spot, the spot that blinds you, and you’re shattering, closer and closer to the edge, only for him to pull them out again. “Toru!”

“You’re not leaving me. Do you hear me?” He says those words through his teeth, furious at you clearly, sucking on his fingers and moaning for a moment.

“Satoru, Satoru, I need you, I need-”

“You want it, to cum baby?”

“Please, I’m sorry… Toru I was scared, fuck. I can’t imagine how life would be… please, please fuck me. Need you.” You reach down, and he yanks your hand, squeezing your wrist and shoving it above your head, shaking his own, looming over you menacingly.

And fuck if you’re not even wetter, as your pretty breasts heave with each breath under him. “Beg for it, for me to get you off. You’ve not been a good girl.”

“Please, I’ll be good. I’m sorry, I am. Please. Toru I love you.” You blink out tears, glistening by the lights of the room, embedded in the ceiling, and Satoru shakes his head then, kissing your sticky tears off your cheeks. “Please let me feel you in me.”

“But you’re not getting it yet, not until you promise me, baby girl. Promise me you’re not going anywhere. Promise me you’re mine forever, that you won’t sacrifice yourself like that again.” He speaks through his teeth, furious, squeezing your wrists.

“Toru, you were gonna if I didn’t!”

“That’s different!”

“It’s not, it’s not. It’s not. I need you too!” You yank him by his hair, making him moan out in pleasure, pulling his lips down, arching your hips, feeling his hardness under his slacks against your thigh. He pulls back, exhaling, his sweet breath tickling your swollen lips.

“I protect you.”

“I protect you!”

“No, you’ll be too busy with a baby soon, keep you occupied and keep you here.” You blink rapidly.

“You… what!?”

You’re panting, your eyes searching his, his thumb circling your clit, keeping you right there, right on the edge again, and it makes you pathetic. “You want it don’t you, me to put one in you? You’ll be my wife soon, won’t you?”

His wife.

His wife.

“Yes, your wife. You… are gonna be… my husband.” You say softly, and he nods just a bit, his blue eyes insane now, his thin white brows knitted together, as he starts kissing down your neck again, then lower, lower. “You… are gonna be my… husband. Mine.”

“Yours, yours baby. All yours.” He’s biting your thigh then, hard, and you wince at the pain, your hands locking in his hair. “You think you deserve to cum?”

“I want to. Please. Please.” You say, head rolling side to side as you feel that hot breath on your eager pussy, as he spreads the plump folds, glistening with your arousal and his spit.

“I don’t know if you deserve to. You were a bad girl.” He smacks your pussy then, making you jump.

“I promise, I promise, I will be good. I fucking love you, I need you, Satoru, I won’t again-”

“But do you deserve to cum? Answer me.” He whispers, his voice so soft, so taunting, and you feel your eyes fill with tears of frustration as he flicks his tongue just over your clit, before smacking it hard again. It stings so bad you scream out. “Maybe that’s what you deserve.”

“Yes, yes I do deserve to cum, I need it, please!”

“But I’m upset with you, baby, I’m upset you’d leave me like that. I need you to need me as much as I need you.”

“Toru, I do! I do! I was… I was so scared for you. Please.” You’re sobbing as he swirls a tongue around the edges of your entrance, teasing but not giving you what you need. When you yank at his hair again he smacks your hand, eyes narrowed as he glares at you.

“No, Miss Brat. You have to need me so much it hurts.” He says, his voice so raw, and you’re falling off that edge.

“I do, I do, please, Satoru, I need you so much, I do! You’re… m-my everything, there’s nothing but you.”

“Mmm, I don’t know.” He’s licking you deeper now, between your lips up that slit that’s soaked, releasing more and more wetness, making him moan. “I don’t know if you’ve learned a lesson.”

“Toru! Please, fuck me. Your dick, please.” You’re desperate as you pull on him, but he only laughs, tickling you more, shaking his head. “Toru now you’re just being mean!”

“Aw, poor baby.” He click his tongue, smirking so goddamn sexy with that mad look making his eyes dilate to pinpoints, making it hard to even look into them. You try to gasp for air as his hand squeezes your throat. “Now you know just a bit of what I felt, but not even close.”

You’re just crying softly, as he chokes you, two fingers back inside your eager hole, which sucks them in greedily. He’s looming over you, working you as only he knows, until you’re drooling out the side of your mouth, until your body is going numb everywhere but your sore little achy cunt.

“Please.” You manage to whisper, before gasping as he scissors you with his fingers, yanking them just as you get close, making you curl up as he releases your throat, laughing darkly.

“Pathetic, but not as pathetic as you make me. You know better than to try to leave me, you’re only mine. No one can touch you.”

“No one would have. No one. It’s all you. It was for you.” You pull at him, unzipping him then, and he groans, burying his face against you as you stroke his cock, so hard and hot in your hands. “Toru I’d have died alone.”

“I’d have never let you leave.” He huffs then, and finally, his cock is shoved inside you, and his eyelashes flutter shut, his full pink lips parted in a gasp, as he stretches you out so fucking good you almost cum, so goddamn on edge from his teasing, so wet from how obsessed he is, how obsessed you are.

“I won’t. I won’t. No matter w-what- fuck! Ah- they do.” You plead, and finally he fucks you in sure, hard thrusts, fucking you with his huge cock, slamming your cervix over and over. You scream out at it, as he’s biting your neck so hard it hurts, you see stars at the combination.

Satoru’s thumbs press into your pelvis, until he shoves your thighs up so high, your knees are backwards on the bed, on either side of your head almost, and you hiss at the stretch, as he presses them even further up. Your ass is in the air, hips raised up, as he licks his lips, hungrily staring at you, drips of sweat beading down his perfect nose.

“This is how I need you, mating press. Perfect for fucking a baby into my wife.” He says huskily, and you wriggle, blinking rapidly, before he fucks into you deeper than he ever has, deeper than you can take it. “You want it, don’t you?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” You’re squeaking out those words as he fucks you so good it’s blindig, and you start feeling it build up, you can feel yourself so close it’s painful, as his leaky tip bruises your cervix. Your walls flutter against him, only for him to pull out, and now you’re scowling, as your pussy throbs. “Please, please! It hurts.”

“Then tell me. Beg me.” You struggle to even form a word, your brain is mush, stupid, he’s got you so ready he could blow on your clit and you’d cum. You gulps as you yank on his arms, nails digging into taut, alabaster skin.

“Put a baby in me. Please, Satoru, please. Fuck me so good. Break me if you want to, just- ah!” He’s slammed back into you, his rhythm rougher and more brutal than he’d ever been with you, and you’re fading now, losing all your senses as he works over you, as his heavy weight is against your thighs, pushing so deep.

“Break you, baby, hmm?” You nod, and finally he kisses you, shoving in deep and grinding his cock, making you a trembling mess, making your cunt gush around him as you’re right there, right there.

“Pl-ease. Please. Lemme cum. Please.” You beg more, shameless, you don’t care, you almost lost him, but he’ll never let you go. And you never want him to go. No, as you cup his beautiful face, and watch him through watery eyes, drinking his sighs in, absorbing his being.

You don’t want him to let you go.

How could you have lived a day without him, without Satoru?

“Then you’ll be a good girl?” You nod eagerly, with a neck that’s sore from his choking.

“Good. Good. Swear.” You’re soaking his length, dripping down the veins and ridges of Satoru’s cock, and he licks up your jaw line, to your ear, huffing his words into it.

“Then you’ll let me fuck a baby into you. Won’t you? Never leave me. Stay with me. Forever.” You nod quickly, gulping as you cling to him, as you fall into the abyss that is him, that is you and him.

“Baby in me. Stay. N’leave… ngh…” You’re barely able to form words, as he laughs against your earlobe, tickling it, and you feel that pressure build so high you think you’ll explose.

“Good girl. You can cum, as long as you know who you belong to, as long as you know where you belong.”

“Under you.”

He groans, pulling back and staring. “Good girl.” Finally he slams his lips down, and thrusts into you so hard it’s brutal, but you want it, you want the pain, you want his pain, and it brings you closer and closer.

“Can I? Please!” You whimper out against his lips, and he bites your lower one, making the air sting it as he blows on it now.

“You can cum now.” He says softly, and you need no further urging, so goddamn on edge you can’t stand anymore, you cum so hard he pauses, groaning and gripping you as she pulses around his cock. As she squeezes his shaft, as you’re shaking under him, gasping for breath.

“Toru! Toru!” You sob the words, clinging to his back, nails digging in as you ride the wave of your insane orgasm, the one that rolls in waves around you, and you pull back to look up into those eyes. Insane, emotional, lustful… beautiful.

“Beautiful.” He whispers, and your body wracks as your orgasm lingers, slow and powerful, until it’s sapped everything.

“You’re beautiful.” You whimper as he’s flipping you then, spreading your thighs wide and shoving his cock to the hilt. “Ah- fuck! So big… you’re too big… it’s all too much I can’t-”

“You can, baby, you will. You will.” He’s smacking your ass hard, so hard you black out damn near, shoving his cock in again, gripping your ass roughly with his huge hands, before he’s pulling your hair, yanking you up on your knees, pressing you down hard on his cock. “That’s it, that’s it.”

He’s pulling your hair back so hard it’s painful, your back and neck curved so insane, and he’s pounding your pussy, you hear the smacks in the room, your wet pussy so goddamn loud. “Love you. Need you.”

“Do you need me baby?”

“Yes! Yes!”

He’s exhaling, hips gripped by his big hands as he holds you still. “Arch this ass up.”

You do as he says, and he’s pressing your head into the bed, angling his body so he fucks even harder, so his curved pink tip is wrecking all your spots, as his balls are smacking against your clit. You’re drooling on the bed, losing it internally, feeling that insane build again, until you’re cumming on his cock, and he hisses, pressing in, your cunt drooling wetness like your mouth.

“That’s it. You know who you belong to?” You mumble into the bed, and he lifts you up then, cupping your face tightly. “Who?”

“You, belong to you. You. You.” He’s fucking you every time you speak, hard thrusts that break your mind, that break your body.

“Take all my cum, then, make me a baby, yeah?” You nod, wordless, and he slams your head back down, holding it down with one hand as he fucks you mean, his cock bullying your walls, and you can’t barely make noise, you can barely even breathe while he’s wrecking you, while he’s owning you.

You are his.

He is yours.

You can’t even give a fuck about your college, about your career, about his parents, about anything but that cock, but those hands, but those gorgeous eyes that you get lost in. You see them even as your face is shoved in his blankets, even as your mind is shot, even as you see blackness behind your eyes, as you drink in Gojo’s essence, his everything.

“Make that baby, yeah? Take all of it.” He orders, yanking your hands behind your back, pulling them and using them for leverage to fuck harder, faster, pressing inside and making you cum so hard you are broken. You’re melted, your mind shot, as your walls tighten and quiver, as your body is taut. “Fuck… that’s it, suck it all out.”

At his urging, your pussy throbs more, and now you feel it, hot endless streams of his cum, as he pumps you so goddamn full. You’re burning inside, as you scream into the blankets, breath taken, twitching and trembling legs as he pumps his cum deeper, moaning behind you.

He lays on you then, turning your head to him, breathless as you, pressing his cum in further, until you’re cumming again from just that, from the insane pressure, from the energy of him. His energy that you can’t even begin to fathom losing, the man that’s your everything. The man you’re so fucking scared to lose, but also simultaneously afraid you’re horrible for.

“Don’t… wanna… ruin your-”

“Shut the fuck up, please. You never could ruin… ah… anything. Nothing.” You both are whimpering now, as he’s pumping in you, as you’re dripping his own cum down his cock, as your eyes roll back and he pulls your hair so hard.

“Scared. I’m scared.” You cry out, and he exhales, shaking his head, kissing you so deeply with his sweet lips as he pumps and pumps your sensitive cunt, bringing you to tears.

“I’m here. I’m here. I’ll fix… fix it. Marry you, baby. Marry you.”

“Please, please… forgive me.” You sob, brokenly, and then he’s resting his head in the crook of your neck, clutching you tight with one arm, as the other strokes your hair gently.

“I understand it, I’d do the same. You’re amazing. You’re so fucking sweet, you’re so perfect baby. But I’m selfish.” He cries softly, and you shake your head, looking back at him and kissing him over and over, a hand cupping his face as his weight is firm against your back, as you’re both covered in sweat, in tears, in cum.

“You’re not selfish, you know what you want, you fucking get it. And Satoru, I’m so ready. I am ready.”

“Ready? You sure?” You nod, and he exhales, pouring his love into every eager kiss, as you both have not really any fucking plan, as you’re both completely fucked, as you’re going to get married as a tactic, as a damn whim.

But you are. You are…

“I’m so fucking ready.”

A03 chap: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56895382/chapters/144669811

Chapter 12

[divinesolas]

elevator

summary: requested; benjicot gets too eager after seeing you and you have some fun in the elevator

modern!benjicot blackwood x reader

a.n: this is just basically pure smut. haven’t written for him in forever i missed this sm hope you guys like it !!

perm benjicot taglist (open !)

@lyssaluvs @yeolsbubbles @lenasvoid @at-a-rax-i-a @poppyflower-22 @helpyourself-9 @kiraflowersworld @randomgurl2326 @valdezthg @mysticmusicinkpop @tiredsleepyhead @secretf1lms @hardkiddonut @downbadforpsychoticmen n @smh-anon @shootinqstars101 @stlzking @helo1281917 @earth4angels @flowerprincezz @kitkat1sstuff @charvsz @majoso12 @beautifulsweetschaos @waystarkia @xxxkat3xxx @kezibear @scrumptiousloser @stark-head

you had just arrived back home from vacation and quickly went to go visit your boyfriend benjicot at his apartment.

You had been aching to see him. literally. He had been teasing you the whole time you were away, from regular mirror pics to shirtless selfies with messages of how much he wanted you he had made your journey a lot more tough then it needed to be.

you tap your foot in the empty lobby as you wait for the elevator to open. you hadn’t told him you were coming, it was late so you expected him to be laying in bed getting ready to sleep so you could walk in, surprise him then go to sleep but when the elevator doors open you stare at him with wide eyes. “what?”

He stops the door from closing and eagerly pulls you into it, pressing you against the cold mirror of the elevator as he kisses you. “ben?” you manage to get out as he kisses down you neck, “was going to the store fuck i had no clue you were home baby.”

You hear the doors close but he had not selected a button to go anywhere more content with pushing his hands under your shirt and feeling your exposed skin. “just, got back, wanted to see you.” The words are a struggle to get out as he continues to shove his lips against yours pressing his body tightly against yours leaving you no room to move.

he hums happily and you can feel him widely grin against your lips. “i wish i wasnt late to leaving for the store. fuck were you planning on waiting for me naked.” its not exactly a question more so his thoughts and desires spilling out. the thought had crossed your mind and tbh if he had no been home you probably would have. You feel him slot himself between your legs to grind against you.

As his lips trail down your neck and his hands begin to knead at your breasts your eyes finally flutter open and you remember where you are. “shouldn’t we eugh go back to the room?” one of his hands moves down past your pants band and shoves two fingers into you.

You gasp, gripping his forearms while he pulls his lips off of you and licks them before smirking at you. “you wanna go to the room when you were too fucking ready for that? the thought that anyone could walk into the elevator at that moment never crosses your mind as he begins to quickly shove his fingers in and out of your greedily while he humps against your thigh. “missed you so fucking much.”

Hes usually the type of tease. He would finger you until you were begging him to let you cum and based on his texts you had thought he would do that again but almost as swiftly as he put his fingers in he takes them out and pops them in his mouth with a moan. “fuck you need to sit on my face when we get back in the room.”

he eagerly presses his lips against your again as he hands go to free himself from his pants. “thought you wanted to tease me all night huh?” He rubs himself against your folds and let out a shaky moan, “we can do that later, need you now.” When he pushes himself into you. You both let out a pleased moan in sync as he pulls you up higher to get a better angle.

“missed this so fucking much missed you never go away again.” He slurs against your lips as he slopply thrusts in and out of you. You eagerly nod as you move your hips to meet his. “ill never go away never without you.” the way the friction of his denim jeans rubs your skin and his hands harshly gripping on your hips as he pants and thrusts has your eyes rolling.

When you get closer you wrap you legs around his waist and he pushes you closer to the wall the new angle hitting you just right, you end up bitting into his bare shoulder as you release all over him and he pulses inside you at your uncontrollable action. “fuck fuck fuck.” He quickly pulls out and spills all over your shirt and bare thighs.

The two of you laugh as your adrenaline highs begin to settle and he eases you down helping you atleast look semi decent before shoving himself back into his pants and finally clicking the button to guide you back up to his apartment.

He turns back around and pulls you into a soft kiss as you sway together lightly in the dimly lit elevator. “missed you.” “missed you more stupid.”

[vivid-ink]

'The Love Shack' Part V - The Fault Is Ours

Relationship: Neteyam(23) x fem!Omatikaya reader(21) x Lo'ak(22) Warnings: Adult content 18+ MDNI

Part V Summary: You'd prepared for Neteyam's upset, prepared for his anger, but what you hadn't prepared for or even anticipated was his complete and total disregard for you... Word count: 13.7k

Series content: Mentions of group sex, MMF threesome, smut, sex toy play, squirting, anal sex, kuru play

Read Part I, II, III and IV in my Masterlist HERE

Author's Note: My darling lovelies, I present to you the finale Chapter 5 of this series. 🥰 I never thought I'd write anything else after 'Violet Eyes', but lo and behold, here I am at the end of my fifth series. And it's honestly all thanks to you wonderful folk in this community who have supported me & brought me so much enjoyment. Without further do, enjoy this finale!

***~~~***

 “I could ask you the same thing! What the fuck are you playing at?”

Lo’ak’s words rang in your ears and looped over and over in your stunned mind. Shaken and upset by Neteyam’s abrupt exit, your words had forsaken you and you’d been unable to offer immediate any answer to Lo’ak’s question apart from meekly muttered apologies.

It had very quickly dawned on you that whilst Lo’ak appeared as confused as you were, he and you were not at all confused about the same thing. You were reeling at his brother’s upset, whereas he appeared to be upset with you and confused by your actions.

You were alone in the play area currently. Lo’ak had gone into the shack’s main area to find some space and presumably warm some water for clean-up. You’d always had one of the brothers, usually Neteyam, to burrow against and snuggle up to while the other prepped the necessary things for clean-up and aftercare. The solitude tonight was new and it was unpleasant.

With Neteyam’s heated departure and Lo’ak’s apparent irritation, you felt cold, confused and abandoned.

Fat teardrops squeezed from between your lashes where you sat on folded legs on the bed, hunched over and hugging yourself. Your kept your snuffles as quiet as possible. You always felt vulnerable and frazzled after a session with the brothers. Once the extreme highs of sex and pleasure play had diminished, you were often thrown into a hormonal slump that left you feeling exposed and in need of comfort. There was no comfort today.

Neteyam had stormed off and now Lo’ak was angry with you too… You’d just wanted a parting kiss from each of them…

Your arms were crossed over your front and your fingernails dug into the flesh of your upper arms as you cried. The entire space still smelled of the activities you had engaged in with the brothers, and the scent was suddenly suffocating.

Eywa, tonight’s session had ended in disorientation and disaster… You should’ve listened to your mind’s cautioning earlier… You should’ve just said your piece and left…

Deciding it was probably best for you to leave, you crawled to the edge of the bed and stood on wobbly legs. Finding your chest covering on the floor, you secured it again over your breasts, fingers fumbling clumsily with the ties. Eyes still blurry from your tears, you swiped a hand over your face and continued to look for your loincloth.

Lo’ak re-entered the space with some cloths and a bowl of warm water. He took in your trembling and tearful state as you attempted to dress yourself again, and he sighed, “Hey, where are you going? Stop.”

“I think I should go. “You mumbled. You refused to meet his eyes, keeping your head downturned with your chin tucked against your chest, “I didn’t mean to upset you both.”

Setting down the things he was carrying, Lo’ak stopped you trying to pull your loincloth up your legs, “No, lie back down. We still need to get you cleaned up. I’m not letting you leave like this. Eywa, look at you.”

The sticky mess between your legs was trickling down your thighs. Your skin was damp with sweat and your nose was running from your tears. When you ignored his words and twisted out of his gentle hold, the remainder of Lo’ak’s patience snapped. With a growl, he took hold of you by your waist and hauled you back onto the soft bedding despite your rueful cries to leave you be.

Lo’ak watched as you curled onto your side, sobbing into your hands. He was still annoyed at what you’d done earlier, but he also recognised the emotional mess you were in after their play session. It was also obvious to him that you didn’t understand what had caused Neteyam’s upset. With another bone-weary sigh, he wet several small cloths in the bowl he’d brought in and wrung them dry.

“Shh, sweet thing. Come on, let me clean you up.” Lo’ak coaxed, gentling his voice.

He crawled onto the bedding next to you and tenderly parted your knees to sweep the cloth up your thighs and between them. Taking the other warm cloth, he folded it and placed it over your core, knowing the warmth of it would soothe the temporary swelling from their session. He wiped you down with a third cloth, the moist warmth of it smoothing over your belly, back and upper arms. He gently pried your hands from your face and he cleaned them too before dabbing at your face last.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was an unhappy squeak.

Putting the cleaning cloths aside, Lo’ak tucked himself behind your curled form, spooning you. He tucked an arm around your waist and pulled you to him, “Do you even know what you’re apologising for?”

“For upsetting you both.”

“Do you know why Neteyam took off and why I’m upset too?”

You considered his question. Great Mother, Neteyam had been furious… Things were strained enough already between the two of you and now it felt like things had broken down even further. And you’d simply kissed Lo’ak… You didn’t understand his recoil either…

You shook your head, fighting back another swelling bout of emotion, “No.”

Lo’ak cursed softly. He kept his arm around you though, wanting to soothe you still despite his frustration with you, with his brother, with the whole situation. He began measuredly, “I’m going to say my piece and I’m only going to say it once, because this whole thing, this we-don’t-talk-about-feelings shit, that you and Neteyam have going on is getting ridiculous.”

You sniffed softly, pawing at your eyes again when more unwanted tears poured forth, “Feelings can’t come into this. This arrangement was physical only.”

“Does that change the fact that they exist?” Lo’ak asked. Knowing you wouldn’t see as you were facing away from him, he gave an emphatic roll of his eyes, “Look, I know you have feelings for my brother, and I don’t think I’m speaking out of turn here because I feel like you know this already, but Neteyam returns those feelings.”

You shifted, rolling onto your back so you could scowl at him, “Where are you going with this? What does it matter?”

Lo’ak propped his head up on his elbow, responding with a glower of his own, “It matters because the bond that you share is sincere! There’s meaning there. What you and I share? That’s purely physical; just sex and body play. If you kiss me it’s because you enjoy the sensation, but there’s no meaning there.”

“So that’s why you’re angry? Because I kissed you and it doesn’t mean anything?”

An exasperated hiss left Lo’ak, his irritation rising again, “No! I’m upset because Neteyam is upset! You upset my brother, you upset me. That’s how this works.”

You could match his rising temper, however. Sick of the confusion you felt and just wanting Lo’ak to speak plainly, you spat, “So why is Neteyam upset? Things were going fine and then he decided to throw a tantrum!”

“Because you kissed me!” Lo’ak howled, frustrated by how something so simple in his eyes was so oblivious to you. Fine, he’d spell it out for you, “You said no kissing. That was the boundary that you set. You’ve denied my brother’s attempts to cross that line for weeks now. You denied him again tonight even when he asked to kiss you, and then you suddenly decide after it all to kiss me?!”

Realisation flooded you at how your actions had appeared and you were quick to refute the misunderstanding, “No! It’s not what it looks like! I wanted to kiss both of you one last time. You just happened to be closest. I was facing you so I kissed you first! But I would’ve kissed Neteyam next!”

Lo’ak emitted a miserable groan and flopped onto his back, pressing the fingers of one hand into his eyes, “Fuck, you should’ve kissed my brother first.”

You groaned and your hands flew to your face again in distress, “Great Mother, what a mess. Tell him for me when you see him? Tell him I wasn’t doing it intentionally to spite him?”

Peering through your fingers, you saw Lo’ak fix you with an incredulous expression, “I won’t be telling him anything. You’re going to explain yourself to him and the both of you are going to talk. Properly. Honestly.”

“I’ll apologise and explain what happened, but there’s nothing else to talk about.”

With a scathing laugh, Lo’ak rounded on you again, “You know that’s such bullshit, Neyomi. I know you’re in love with him.”

It was the truth. You knew it within yourself, had known it for so long now, but to hear it called out so openly by Lo’ak was a shock to your psyche. It felt like his utterance of the words had willed it into a truth so solid that no matter how much you wanted to deny it to salvage what was left of your heart, you couldn’t.

“He told me what happened that night at the hot spring, about how you denied his affection and pushed him away after. That really cut him deep.” Lo’ak added, and his tone was woeful.

Bitterly, you moved to sit upright so you could look at Lo’ak square in the eyes. You glared at him, cursing the tears that pooled in your eyes and threatened the spill, “So, what? You want me to tell Neteyam how I feel. Apologise for pushing him away, pour out my soul, and break my heart over a man I can never have?”

Understanding washed over Lo’ak at your words. There it was. The reason that had prompted your sudden change in behaviour over the last couple of moons. He’d known it wasn’t because you’d had a change of heart. You were only trying to protect yourself. Lo’ak thought of his brother’s stubbornness then, of Kiri, and their grandmother’s approval of the proposed arrangement. He chuckled.

You frowned at Lo’ak’s quiet laughter, feeling indignant and wondering if he really was cruel enough to be laughing at you right now. You hissed harshly, “It’s not funny.”

“No, no! I’m not laughing at you. It’s just this whole situation could be so easily solved if you and Neteyam actually put your egos aside to talk.” Lo’ak quickly reassured and he shook his head at you mildly with a final huff of laughter, “If there was a chance you could be with my brother, would you take it?”

Your face was still pulled deep in a frown, but the points of your ears twitched in sceptical interest, “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

Lo’ak licked his lips and ground his teeth together. It wasn’t his place to say. The arrangement was a formal one and until it was officially announced by the tsahìk, it was not to be spoken of. Clan formalities had to be observed by all and Neteyam had technically broken the rules by telling him about it.

“My grandmother is going to make a formal announcement to the clan tomorrow night at communal last meal.” Lo’ak said, and there was a particular note in his inflection that urged you to listen, that told you what he was telling you was significant, “If you truly care for my brother, you’ll speak to him afterward and you’ll tell him the truth of how you feel. Because he’s a stubborn skxawng who’s been stung one too many times now and the he won’t be honest with you unless you make the first move.”

***~~~***

You sat with Tula and some of the other female warriors, all gathered for last meal in the central gathering space of the village. You’d barely eaten anything all day and yet, as you stared at the assortment of stewed, roasted and fresh foods on your food mat, you didn’t feel even an ounce of hunger. Your anxiety had made sure of that.

It’d been a typical day of rest for the clan; families enjoyed each other’s company; friends spent time catching up over fun hobbies; children squealed and ran amok the village grounds, glad for a day off from lessons and chores. However, you’d been a tense knot of nerves all day awaiting the tsahìk’s impending proclamation.Ordinarily, you wouldn’t have been bothered. The tsahìk made all sorts of announcements all the time, but tonight’s announcement would supposedly be bringing you an opportunity, or so Lo’ak had assured.

You’d sought Tula out first thing in the morning, brimming with emotion and nerves after the mishap at the shack last night. The olo’eyktan’s family had passed you at communal breakfast and while Lo’ak had graced you with a genial grin, Neteyam had avoided acknowledging you entirely. Everything came to a head at that point.

You’d told Tula everything then about how Kai had ended things, how you’d confronted Neteyam at the shack and what came after. You’d cried in her arms over how you’d inadvertently slighted Neteyam and told her of what Lo’ak was urging you to do. To your surprise, Tula had sided with Lo’ak’s view on things.

What followed was a day of forced, but blessed pampering from your best friend. Tula had taken you down to the bathing springs, where she’d treated you to one of her wonderful back rubs with sweet oils, before she helped you to undo your tightly braided hair for washing. She had cooed and clucked over you, slathering you in all sorts of balms and creams that would help reduce the puffiness of your eyes, relax you and smoothen your skin.

Your hair fell loosely around your ears and shoulders now, luscious and silky from Tula’s various herbal conditioning treatments. Your skin felt smooth like baby’s bottom and she’d dowsed you in a scented oil to help promote calmness. She’d plucked several sun lily blooms from their stems on the walk back to the village and threaded them through your locks, remarking with a flourish that the vivid indigo hue of the flowers set off the rest of your more casual look perfectly.

“You’re quiet this evening, Neyomi. You look beautiful by the way.” Silwey observed, smiling at you from across the gathered circle of women.

The other female warrior’s smile was polite and you forced as genuine a smile back at her in return. Silwey was beautiful too, very beautiful. She had the kind of classic beauty that all the old women harped on about. The kind of loveliness that would make most men drool and gawk.

“Thanks, Tula did a fantastic job on me, as always.” You replied, picking at a small morsel of meat and popping it into your mouth.

“Not that you don’t always look beautiful though, but there’s just something about today’s look that really flatters.” Another female, Kanoa, added brightly.

“Kai is a lucky man.” Silwey chortled. You nearly choked on your food.

Clearing your throat gently, you shrugged self-consciously at Silwey, “Ah, Kai and I aren’t seeing each other anymore.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realise.”

“It’s alright. The split is fairly fresh, but it was mutual.”

Clearly feeling bad for catching you out on an awkward subject, Silwey attempted to cheer you up, “Well, whoever catches your eye next will be a very lucky man.”

The women all murmured in cheerful agreement. Even Tula, who was doing a great job of pretending that she was unaware of the real reason for your disquiet. You mustered up a kind smile at Silwey to reassure her you’d taken no offense. You wondered if she would’ve been as kind if she knew that the man who’d caught your eye was Neteyam…

Absently, you wondered if Neteyam had sought Silwey out on her own again in the weeks you’d stopped going to the shack. You were well aware of Silwey’s romantic interest in Neteyam, especially after her last bold proposition to him all those weeks ago on the very day that had led to your evening spent with Neteyam at the hot spring. The thought of him with Silwey pained you, and you forced the thought from your mind.

A chorus of soft hushing and murmurs rippled through the gathered Omatikaya then and you saw the tsahìk step up onto the raised platform by the bonfire. She raised her arms and the clan fell obediently into silence.

“Brothers and sisters! I thank you all for gathering this night, may Eywa bless us in our communion.” Mo’at called out, her voice carrying strongly over the crowd, “A proposal was brought to me for consideration not long ago, by our olo’eyktan, regarding the traditions our people have long held about how our clans are led. Tradition has always decreed that our peoples be led by a mated pair, olo’eyktan and tsahìk, unified and blessed in the eye of Eywa.”

Your heart was beginning to pound in your chest, impatient for the tsahìk to get to the crux of her proclamation.

Mo’at continued, “But in recent generations, this has not always been so. Indeed there are other clans where the leading pair are not mated to each other, instead leading their people through an agreed partnership. Even for us Omatikaya, things have changed with the coming and subsequent defeat of the Sky People.” She turned astute eyes at her family, at Jake and Neytiri in particular, “I have retained my position as tsahìk because my daughter chose a warrior’s path, while my son-in-law Jake leads us as chief. But I am getting old now.”

Muted murmurs of curiosity were rising within the crowd, all keen to hear what their tsahìk was about to say.

Mo’at raised her arms again and she gestured this time for two others to join her on the platform. Neteyam ascended at her beckoning closely followed by his sister, Kiri.

Mo’at smiled warmly at her two grandchildren, placing a hand on each of their heads in blessing before addressing the crowd again, “Our line of succession has not changed. Neteyam will still succeed his father as olo’eyktan in time to come. However, I have prayed to our Great Mother recently and she has shown me who is to walk the path of tsahìk after me. As many of you have experienced for yourselves, our Kiri is gifted and Eywa’s voice has whispered to her since she was barely more than a babe. Our Great Mother has chosen and Kiri will fulfil the role of tsahìk when my time comes to pass!”

A current of emotion washed through the clan, all susurrating and murmuring, some excitedly and others confusedly.

“Wait, what?” Kanoa breathed, “Kiri will lead with Neteyam?”

“Yes.” Silwey affirmed, “She will be tsahìk and Neteyam will be olo’eyktan alongside her.”

Mo’at’s voice rang out again and she continued, “I hereby declare Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan and Kiri te Suli Kireysi’ite our Omatikaya successors! They will choose their own respective mates, but they will lead this clan in time, brother and sister in partnership!”

Neteyam and Kiri clasped hold of each other hands then and they raised their arms in affirmation of their partnership before the people. The Omatikaya roared their approval, clapping, howling and ululating their joy.

They will choose their own respective mates… Mo’at’s words rang in your ears amidst the din the clan was making around you. Tula clutched at one of your knees, beaming at you happily at what the proclamation meant for you: A chance to love, truly and freely.

Your gaze drifted to the rest of the Sully family standing by the foot of the platform. You caught Lo’ak’s eye and he smirked at you, his eyes twinkling with meaning. This was what he’d meant last night. You recalled his question to you: If there was a chance you could be with my brother, would you take it?

You knew your answer: Absolutely.

The thrilled yammering of the warrior women around you brought you back to the present.

“So he can choose any woman he wants now. Not necessarily one of the healer women.” Kanoa’s voice was an energised whisper and she giggled girlishly at her words.

“Yup, sounds like it.” Another warrior, Neneka said, “Great Mother, have mercy on my soul for saying this, but I’d love to get under Neteyam, you know what I mean? He watches and plays around a bit at the old outpost, but he’s not as unreserved as Lo’ak is.”

You froze when you realised what the topic of the conversation had turned to among the women. Eywa, you didn’t want to hear about other women’s experiences with him…

“Yeah, he’s picky.” Kanoa sighed dreamily, “I bet he’s a generous lover though. Someone here is lucky enough to know.” She elbowed Silwey and burst into another fit of kittenish giggles.

“Hey, stop it. I’m not going to kiss and tell.” Silwey replied, laughing and swatting lightly at Kanoa. She pursed her lips sassily then and she gave a sly narrowing of her eyes, “But he’s an incredible time. That’s all I’ll say.”

The warrior women crowed with laughter at their gossipmongering and your food looked very interesting all of a sudden. You picked at the offerings on your food mat, eating a few mouthfuls and concentrating hard on the burst of savoury flavours on your tongue in a bid to drown out the awful conversation around you. You could feel Tula’s concerned eyes peering at you, but you kept to yourself.

“Well, I’m going to go and congratulate Kiri.” Tula pronounced, trying to change the subject. She pushed off her heels to stand, “Kiri is the one who’s been formally confirmed into her role tonight. It’s not all about Neteyam.”

“That’s true. Good idea.” Silwey agreed, rising to her feet along with the other women. She tittered boldly and then added, her tone brazen, “I’ll congratulate Kiri and then perhaps see if Neteyam would like some private company tonight too.”

The women snickered and began making their way towards the platform to offer Kiri their felicitations. You shook your head at the mob of them as they left. Eywa, the women were as bad as the men were with their egging and bragging of sexual conquests…

Tula lingered behind, staying with you. She crouched down next to you and reached out to squeeze your shoulder, “Don’t pay any attention to them. Eyes on the prize. You have a meaningful conversation that you need to have with Neteyam tonight. And it could change everything.”

“I know.” You sighed, looking over your shoulder where Kiri and Neteyam stood by the front of the platform, surrounded by a throng of well-wishers, “It’s just- I think I really hurt him last night.”

“There are two sides to every story. He’s not exactly been forthcoming with you either. You both need to just clear the air and get everything out in the open.”

“Thanks for everything today. Thanks for listening.” You shot Tula an appreciative smile, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Tula’s answer was a smile and a wink, but her face twisted into an unimpressed grimace when she looked to the front of the platform again, “Better work fast, babe. Silwey’s got dessert on her mind tonight.”

Sure enough, you saw Silwey whispering into Neteyam’s ear when you cast another glance over your shoulder. It was now or never. You needed to get Neteyam alone and you were going to swallow your pride and tell him everything. Dusting your hands off, you rose to your feet, intent for the throng of people gathered at the front.

Politely excusing yourself as you stepped past families and groups of friends, you weaved through the crowd and passed the crackling bonfire on your way. You made for Kiri first, wanting to congratulate the other woman. You had never spoken much to Kiri, but you were acquaintances through her brothers. Being a warrior by profession meant that you had more to do work-wise with Neteyam and Lo’ak than with Kiri, who was of course a healer and spiritual leader by trade.

Finally making it to the newly appointed tsakarem (tsahìk in waiting), you greeted Kiri politely, making the appropriate gesture with your fingers splaying out from your forehead, “Oel ngati kameie, Kiri. Congratulations on your appointment. The clan rejoices and thanks you for your service.”

Kiri’s answering smile at your greeting was enigmatic, her large golden eyes bright and perceptive, “Ngati kameie nìteng (I see you also), Neyomi. Thank you for your kind words.”

You mused quietly to yourself that Kiri already seemed to have the piercing look of a tsahìk down perfectly. The other woman was unfazed as she openly eyed you from your face, down your torso and legs, and then back up to your face again. She cocked her head at you then, eyes in a slight squint, “The tsawksyul blooms are a nice touch in your hair. Beautiful.”

“Irayo (thank you).” You thanked her, realising awkwardly that you really didn’t know what else to say to Kiri. You were also wilting a little under her penetrating gaze, so you spluttered a parting blessing, “May Eywa bless you and keep you always.”

Kiri nodded, the short and wispy ends of her short hair swaying where they framed her lovely face. Her eyes flitted to Neteyam who stood several paces to her right, surrounded by what could only be described as a gaggle of fawning women. Your own eyes followed Kiri’s, taking immediate note of the fact that Silwey was closest to him and that she’d curled a covetous hand around one of his biceps, her side pressed against his.

“I expect you’ll want to get my brother’s attention now that his pool of choice has widened.” Kiri began, moving closer to you so she could speak into your ear, “Like the rest of these eager vultures.”

Her disdain was clear in her tone and you shifted uneasily on your feet. You shook your head to refute her statement, not wanting to be reduced or likened in any way to the notion of a shallow, insipid woman, lusting after a man of high standing.

“I do need to speak to Neteyam, but it’s important. An apology actually.” You replied, hoping your candour would prove your sincerity to his intimidating sister.

With one last cock of her head and a piercing stare that made you feel like she could see you inside and out, the warm smile that Kiri graced you with next was unexpected, “My brothers speak highly of you, as do the warriors in your platoon. Eywa ngahu (May Eywa be with you), Neyomi.”

You dipped your head in acknowledgement and Kiri’s attention was quickly pulled away by another clan member wishing to congratulate her. With a deep breath, you refocused on your objective.

Neteyam was speaking to four women, all smiles and laughter as they conversed. You managed to place yourself in a gap between two of them, just big enough for you to slip into without needing to push anyone. It placed you directly in his line of sight, but if you thought he was going to acknowledge you, even out of courtesy given there were others surrounding him, watching him, you were wrong.

Mild irritation flared in your gut and you continued to look at him, trying to catch his eye. However, Neteyam’s gaze studiously avoided yours while he spoke in turn to the others, even quirking a small smile at Silwey when she leant her cheek against his shoulder. Your distress was sharp behind your sternum at the sight, but you were determined.

You cleared your throat audibly, causing a lull in the conversation as the women turned to look at you. You seized the opportunity, “Excuse me. Neteyam, can I have a moment? I need to speak to you.”

Finally, for the first time that day, his amber orbs clashed with your own. There was no warmth in them though, no emotion. Just pure impassiveness that sent a dreadful shudder through you.

“If it’s about work, it can wait until tomorrow morning.” Neteyam’s response was clipped.

His icy demeanour was cutting. You’d expected him to be upset, but not like this, not cold and unfeeling. “It’s not work-related, but it’s important.”

“Sorry. I’ve got plans tonight.” More callous brusqueness.

This was an unexpected hurdle. You hadn’t anticipated his refusal to speak to you. You’d prepared for his upset and for his anger, but not for his complete and utter disregard. A painful lump was forming in your throat and you swallowed it down tightly.

Keeping a tight rein on the brewing storm of your emotions beneath the surface, you maintained your careful mask of composure and tried again, “Neteyam, please. I only need a few moments.”

“No, I’ll catch you another time.” It was a clear dismissal.

You weren’t going to beg, not in front of everyone. You would swallow your pride, but not to the extent of abandoning all of your dignity.

Silwey was frowning at you, puzzled displeasure colouring her features, and the other women appeared equally uncomfortable at the awkward exchange. The telltale hot flush of humiliation was beginning to tingle and burn on the skin of your face. You regarded Neteyam’s hard gaze one final time before you turned and excused yourself from the group.

The world around you became surreal, the noise of the gathered clan becoming a dull hum as you ambled on numb feet back the way you came. You could feel your composure beginning to fracture, the turbulent storm within you threatening to spill, and with the first breath that hitched painfully in your chest, you broke into a sprint in the direction of your home shelter.

You needed somewhere safe and away from prying eyes for the dam to burst… For the upheaval of your emotions to come pouring out…

Your eyes stung and your vision blurred with the uncontrollable arrival of your tears. An onslaught of sobs besieged you next and you tore the sun lily blooms from your hair as you ran, pawing at the wetness streaming from your eyes. Evidently what had happened last night at the shack had been the last straw for Neteyam. You cried at the unfairness of it all.

You finally had a chance, but now it seemed that Neteyam was unwilling to grant it to you…

Someone was calling your name, the thud of heavy footfalls catching up to you. You ignored their calls, pumping your legs harder to increase your speed.

A strong hand hooked around your elbow, slowing you with a jolt and you attempted to spiral away, “No! Leave me alone!”

Another hand clasped hold of your other arm and your pursuer spun you in their arms to face them. Your forearms collided with a muscled chest and for a split second your mind tricked you into believing that Neteyam had come after you, but as your blurry gaze lifted to the man’s face you recognised who it really was.

Wrong brother. Lo’ak.

Lo’ak’s expression was cross, but you knew his irritation was not directed at you as he shushed you softly, “Hey, it’s alright, sweet thing.” He gave you a brief but tight hug before pulling away and fixing you with determined eyes, “Listen to me, OK? You have to keep it together. Go to my family’s shelter and wait there. Let yourself in, no one is home. They’re all still eating.”

Only half paying attention, you stammered, “W-What? Why?”

“Because I’m sick of this back-and-forth! You and Neteyam are going to talk. Tonight.” Lo’ak pressed insistently. He squeezed your arms gently in reassurance, “Go wait in my family’s shelter. I’ll get my brother.”

“He’s got plans.” You had meant to sound unpleasant, had meant for your voice to be a grating rasp, but what came out was an unsteady warble of words.

A harsh scoff left Lo’ak and he was already turning to jog back towards the crowded throng, “Nope, trust me. He doesn’t. Not if I have anything to say about it. Go! And stay there!”

***~~~***

A cacophony of grunts, thuds and slaps filled the woodland air as the brothers brawled off the main village pathway behind some shrubbery.

Neteyam hadn’t appreciated Lo’ak’s brisk interruption just as he and Silwey had been making their way to a quieter spot for the evening. He’d refused his brother’s ‘urgent’ request to return home at first, until Silwey had sensed the quickly rising strain between the pair and had grudgingly excused herself with a plea for him to seek her out later once the ‘emergency’ had been resolved. Neteyam had known exactly what his brother was doing, had known that there wasn’t a ‘family emergency’ at all, since their entire family could still be seen enjoying their dessert of fruit by the bonfire.

Spiteful comments were exchanged, hissing taunts were made and in the end, it was Lo’ak who’d thrown the first punch out of frustration.

The pair of them tussled, no longer upright on their feet, but wrestling on the moss-covered ground instead. It was a violent tangle of arms and legs. Neteyam had almost succeeded in his attempt to pin Lo’ak, when his younger brother threw a stinging punch, his fist colliding painfully with his jaw. A wounded groan left him and Lo’ak seized the opportunity, rolling to flip his brother onto his back in a pin.

Neteyam’s eyes were scrunched closed and his face was contorted into a pained grimace. Their bodies were robust with strong bones and tough skin, but the pain was always sharp and the bruising would show.

“You done, bro?” Lo’ak snarled, spitting a build-up of saliva and blood on the ground to his side.

Breathing hard, Neteyam fought a throbbing jaw to crack open his eyelids.

Lo’ak could see his brother was still angry, but the vehemence of Neteyam’s ire had dissipated after their brawl. He felt his brother pat his thigh in a gesture of submission and he shifted his weight so Neteyam could sit upright. Lo’ak rose gingerly to his feet, his hip aching a little from a rapid roll that Neteyam had executed earlier. He extended a hand out to his older brother who took it, pulling himself to his feet.

Fisticuffs had never been a regular occurrence between them. Not even when they’d been young boys. Lo’ak had always excelled at being the problematic, troublesome younger brother, but Neteyam had kept hold of his maturity and patience most of the time. They’d only ever had a handful of fistfights in their lives and they’d all been over significant issues. And it was fair to say that tonight’s issue was significant.

“I won’t let you run from this.” Lo’ak declared, wiping the stray dribble of blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of a hand, “I’ve always been the stupid, reckless one, and you’ve always looked out for me. Well, I’m returning the favour. She’s worth it, bro.”

Reminded of the reason for their brawl in the first place, Neteyam gritted his teeth and closed his eyes with a deep exhale through his nose. He didn’t want to talk to you… He figured that you felt bad, that you wanted to apologise… but he was past simple apologies now… He didn’t want to face you if you were just going to seek forgiveness and then go back to your life without him…

“There’s nothing to be said. She’s made herself clear that she isn’t interested.” Neteyam muttered severely, massaging at his own tender jaw with cautious fingers.

“I’m fucking done hearing that from both of you!”

“And I’m fucking sick of saying it! She won’t kiss me but she’ll happily kiss you! Things are pretty damn clear to me!”

“That was a misunderstanding, and she’ll explain it herself if you let her! For once in your life, can you just trust me on this?!” Lo’ak exclaimed, exasperated, “I’m not the one being the skxawng ass right now! You and Neyomi have tiptoed around each other for weeks! So I’m staging an intervention. Forced discussion!” The blood continued to build-up in his mouth and he cursed again with another spit to his side. He’d taken an elbow in the teeth from his brother at some point and he was quite sure that one of his teeth had loosened.

“Sorry.” Neteyam mumbled somewhat contritely.

“It was a good move with your elbow, very fast.” Lo’ak conceded, huffing out a laugh. However, his face returned to its sombre expression then, “Maybe you and Neyomi will both find it in yourselves to apologise to one another tonight too.”

Neteyam’s only response was a bitter snort. He was aware Lo’ak had spoken to you last night after he’d fled the shack. His brother had been scant on the details this morning, but he’d insisted that what had happened was a misunderstanding and that he needed to speak to you. Still smarting from your denial the previous night, Neteyam had promptly let Lo’ak’s words in through one of his ears and out the other, not intending at all to follow through.

When Neteyam didn’t say anything more, Lo’ak inveigled him, “Look, she wants to talk and clear the air. You both have some serious shit you need to say to each other and I’m not going to keep playing messenger between you.”

An image of you from earlier in the evening flitted to the forefront of Neteyam’s mind. He saw you with your hair loose and un-braided, the long strands falling to frame your face and trailing to tickle your shoulders and upper back. You had three tsawksyul blooms threaded into your locks behind your ears. You’d looked so beautiful... The next image was of the wounded look on your face when he’d denied your request to speak him in a callous dismissal in front of the others. The hurt that flashed in your eyes had been plain to see, and it had felt good to know that he’d hurt you, that he’d given you a taste of your own medicine.

“Where is she?” Neteyam queried quietly.

“Back at our family’s shelter. I asked her to wait there.”

Moistening his lips, Neteyam took a deep breath and set off back towards the main village path. He felt rotten now for upsetting you. Yes, you’d hurt him, but it didn’t make things any better for him to have hurt you in retaliation.

“Bro,” Lo’ak called out, making Neteyam stop in his tracks, “Don’t make things so hard, OK? Be honest. Open up to her. You might be surprised at what you find.”

With a sideways glace at his brother, Neteyam nodded, “Yeah.”

***~~~***

You sat on your folded legs on the floor of a smaller alcove in the Sullys’ home, waiting anxiously to see if Lo’ak would succeed in his endeavour to persuade Neteyam to speak to you. It hadn’t been a very long while, but it had certainly been long enough that you were starting to worry that perhaps Neteyam had remained unyielding.

You’d let yourself into the Sullys’ home shelter like Lo’ak had instructed and you’d proceeded to drift about awkwardly as you took the space in. Their shelter was much bigger than the standard ones most families lived in. Perks of being the chief’s family, you supposed. It had a much more spacious living area and the alcoves branching off the main space, that served as each individual’s private area, were also bigger than usual.

Trinkets and decorations both of Na’vi and human origin adorned the shelter, speaking to the mixed heritage of the family. Tinkling wooden chimes hung from the joists that held the shelter up. Homely furniture and utensils were set about the space on thick woven rugs, and little paper images of the family (which you’d come to learn were called photographs) were displayed here and there.

You’d ambled about, quietly admiring the place but too nervous to touch anything out of respect. Your nose had led you to one of the alcoves in particular, Neteyam’s familiar scent wafting from it like an appealing perfume that called to every nerve and cell in your body. A sense of comfort had washed over you and you’d settled yourself on the floor rug in his alcove to continue your wait.

Everything about the alcove screamed Neteyam, from the neatly made bedding to the well-ordered layout. His elegant bow and weaponry were systematically arranged against one side, long knives, spears and daggers hanging from a sturdy looking frame. Tidy piles of fabric and clothing sat nestled in a wooden chest, and a small but ornate dresser sat on the far side with his personal jewellery and knick-knacks. Your own alcove looked like a haphazard hovel in comparison, but whenever your mother complained of the mess, you always maintained that you found comfort in your chaos.

As another wave of apprehension consumed you, you inhaled deeply through your nose and let your breath whistle out from between your lips. Your gaze fell to your clasped hands in your lap. You knew what you wanted to say. You’d rehearsed the words over and over in your mind the whole day. You just needed a chance to say them. A pang of hurt lanced through your chest at your recollection of Neteyam’s callous dismissal. You hoped that you’d get that chance tonight.

The draping flaps at the entrance of the shelter swished apart then and your head snapped upright with a gasp to see Neteyam enter the space. Another gasp left you when you took in the few purpling bruises on his ribs and jawline, visible even in the lambent glow of the firelight in the central hearth.

You were on your feet and marching up to him in an instant, concern in your voice, “What happened?” You raised a gentle hand to his face, wanting to examine his jaw, but he flinched away from your touch.

“Lo’ak said you were waiting here to talk. He was very persuasive with his fists.” Neteyam replied and his tone was harsh and tight.

Your lips settled into an unhappy line. Your gaze dropped to Neteyam’s clenched fists by his sides and you spotted the telltale cuts on his knuckles that indicated the fight certainly wasn’t one-sided. You felt another sharp pinprick of hurt that the brothers had gotten into a physical disagreement over your request to speak to Neteyam. Did he really loathe you that much now that he’d fought with Lo’ak over this?...

Neteyam stood motionless while he watched your various emotions flit across your face. He noted the absence of the sun lily blooms from your hair, noted the downturn of your ears, the stickiness of your cheeks and the shine around your eyes. You’d been crying... Guilty regret bloomed in his gut, but his pride was quick to quash it. He was hurt too, hurt by your previous denials. Tears may not have left his eyes but that didn’t mitigate the fact that you’d hurt him too with your rejections.

Your heart thumped in your chest, blood pounding in your ears as you watched Neteyam wait for you to say something. His gaze was cold and the impatient swish of his tail was telling.

Now, in the moment, with the chance you wanted presented to you, the words you’d repetitively rehearsed earlier seemed to have abandoned you entirely. Desperately trying to tamp down the panic that was rising, you heartened yourself. Now or never, Neyomi!

“I’m sorry.” The words were a sticky croak in your throat and you cleared it softly before continuing, “I didn’t mean for last night to end like it did. The truth is, I wanted to kiss you both one last time. Lo’ak just happened to be closest to me. I would’ve turned to you after.”

“Uh huh.” Neteyam’s response was sceptical and he felt his irritation beginning to rise. It was certainly a very convenient explanation on your part… You’d wanted to kiss him too? After all your rebuffs and refusals, he found it incredibly hard to believe.

You sensed his disbelief and you pressed your point further, “I’m not just saying that, I mean it. I didn’t do it to mock you or hurt you. I was so spaced out and I wasn’t really thinking things through. I’m sorry, really I am.”

“Yeah, OK. You’re forgiven.” Neteyam said with a shrug, feigning insouciance in a bid to disguise his hurt. He didn’t really forgive you. He felt far too wounded to excuse your actions so easily, but he was growing more and more uncomfortable in the thick tension that surrounded you both and he wanted out of there. If what you wanted was to apologise and seek his forgiveness then you’d done that. Conversation over. “If that’s all you needed to say then you’ll need to excuse me. Someone’s waiting for me.”

The nonchalance Neteyam was displaying made you feel equal parts sad and angry. Here you were being sincere, wanting to start an honest discussion and he wasn’t even trying. It felt as if he was here just so he could tell Lo’ak he’d spoken to you, when nothing about his manner or his words was genuine. Neteyam’s frame was already turned halfway away from you, his intention to leave clear.

Your annoyance spiked, emboldening you and you hissed, “No, I’m not done. Don’t walk away from me.” Especially not to run back into Silwey’s arms…

Pausing in his steps, Neteyam gritted his teeth and his injured jaw throbbed painfully. He turned to face you again with pinned ears and unimpressed eyes, “What else?”

He watched your as your breaths began to deepen and a frown marred your lovely face. You were so impossibly beautiful even when you were angry, and the thought only further infuriated him in that moment. Lo’ak’s words echoed in the recesses of his mind; be open, be honest. But what did his brother expect him to do? Pour his heart out to you? He’d done that once before the night of the hot spring, and you’d thrown his affection back in his face.

Your next words were uncanny, as if you had somehow read his thoughts.

“I’m sorry also for how I reacted that night at the hot spring.” You stated, making a conscious attempt to stop your irritation from colouring your expression. You wanted to appear sincere and you didn’t think an apology delivered with a scowl would achieve that. “It wasn’t my intention to hurt your feelings then either, and I’m sorry if I did.”

Neteyam wasn’t making the same effort though and his words were muttered through clenched teeth, “Again, you’re forgiven.”

Your tail hung low between your legs and you frowned at him, upset, “You’re just saying that. I’m trying to tell you that I’m genuinely sorry and you’re just going through the motions!”

The monster of his pain that Neteyam had spent the last couple of moons trying to restrain reared its ugly head in full force. He didn’t want your apologies. He wanted you. But just as he couldn’t force you to feel for him what he felt for you, your apologies couldn’t force his earnest forgiveness from him either.

“Well, a genuine apology doesn’t always earn genuine forgiveness, especially when forgiveness isn’t ready to be granted on the forgiver’s part!” Neteyam cried in a bitter shout. He saw you gulp and recoil slightly at his raised voice, but he’d uncorked the bottle of his tumultuous emotions now and after being pent up for so long, his words poured from him in an inexorable stream, “Do you know what it’s like to want someone, to be around them every day, to be so close to them and know what their body feels like, tastes like, and yet have to live with the fact that they don’t want you the same way?! You know, if all you wanted from me was the pleasure of my body, then so be it! I’ll accept that and I’ll get over my feelings in time. But don’t expect me to forgive you now when I’m not ready to do that!”

His shouting startled you at first, but you were quick to recover. He wasn’t the only one who could be loud.

“It’s not just your body I want!” You shrieked in return, and it was Neteyam’s turn to wince. You advanced on him and he took a few steps back as you gained on him until he was backed against one of the shelter’s support beams. “And yes, I know exactly what it’s like to want someone and feel like you can’t have them because that’s how I’ve been feeling too, you skxawng!”

You were so close to Neteyam now that your chin was tilted up defiantly while you held his gaze. He was glaring down at you in return, his broad chest heaving with his own resentment. You were both reeling from each other’s words, both your brains working frantically to process the situation. However, rationality was hard to find when emotions were running high, especially when what felt good in the moment was to spew blame and point fingers.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the tsahìk’s arrangement with Kiri?” You demanded hotly.

“What difference would it have made?” Neteyam snarled, “Besides, you avoided me for weeks! You were impossible to get hold of and then you went and started fucking Kai!”

“It would’ve made all the difference!” You screeched, “And don’t bring Kai into this! I never put any restrictions on you or Lo’ak while our agreement was in place. I never stopped either of you from carrying on with your other play nights with the other women!”

“I haven’t been with anyone else since you! Despite everything, all I want is you!”

“Me too!”

Both his words and yours were shouted and the sound reverberated in the hollow confines of the shelter. You sagged as if suddenly tired from the emotional tirade of the last while, and you saw the remnants of Neteyam’s ire gradually seep from his own furious expression. The truth of the situation struck you both with such stark clarity that it stunned you both into deafening silence.

Neteyam was the first to break the silence. He gave a slow shake of his head and he closed his eyes, trying to make sense of it all, “Wait, what? So why did you pull away that night at the spring? And then you avoided me and stopped coming to the shack when you start seeing Kai.”

“Because I was scared.” You murmured, and the memory of your sleepless nights filled with heartsick despair brought unbidden tears to your eyes. You blinked wet eyes up at him and your tears escaped at the action.

Neteyam hated the sight of your tears, especially now that he was the cause of them. He sighed wearily. Tenderness swelled in his chest and he cupped one of your cheeks with a gentle hand, smoothing away the rolling bead of moisture with his thumb. His deep voice was soft and gentle when he spoke, a direct contrast to his harsh bellows from before, “Scared of what?”

“Of falling for you.” You gave a wet laugh and continued your explanation, “You will be olo’eyktan of this clan one day. By tradition your mate must be worthy of being tsahìk. That was never going to be me. I ran because I was in too deep already. I wanted to keep what I had left of my heart, but I realised after that it was too late anyway.”

Neteyam stifled a curse under his breath. The arrangement of Kiri becoming tsakarem hadn’t been confirmed yet at the time. His grandmother had still been deliberating and praying about it when the night at the hot spring had occurred, but the decision had been made not long after. Perhaps if he hadn’t been so wounded by your actions, if he’d listened to his brother and been more persistent in getting hold of you, this current situation may not have spiralled so out of hand.

“Fuck, I should’ve said something.” Neteyam lamented with a groan, tilting his chin down to rest his forehead against yours, “I was just so convinced that you didn’t feel the same way and that telling you would just result in another rebuff. Especially since you still came to the shack to play for but refused to kiss me.”

“I wanted to, so much.” You whispered with a sniffle, your nose brushing his lightly, “I tried with Kai, but there was no spark there. All I could think about was you. How could I not want all of you? You’re everything I want. I wanted to protect my heart but it broke anyway trying to stay away from you.”

Your words ended in a mewling sob and Neteyam enveloped you in his arms, crushing you to him. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, the comforting warmth of his body only seeming to make you cry harder.

“Shhh, I’m sorry too.” Neteyam soothed, running a large hand up and down your back while the other cupped your head against him, “I’ve been a fool and I’m so sorry.”

Remorse and shame flooded him as he reflected now on the past while. Hindsight was always 20/20. Great Mother, you’d both been so stupid... You’d both been on the same trajectory all along, except you hadn’t seen a conceivable way forward and while he had, knowing of the arrangement with Kiri, your fear and your avoidant behaviour had caused him to misunderstand and unwittingly hide the solution from you.

He pressed a kiss to your temple, loosening his hold when he felt you shift to peer up at him.

Dabbing at your nose and eyes with the back of your hand, you apologised for your appearance, “Sorry, I probably look a mess.”

Neteyam emitted a scoff and graced you with a warm smile. His hands framed your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks, “No, you’re beautiful even when you cry, paskalin. I’ll claim that kiss that you owe me now, if that’s alright?”

With a giggle, you agreed.

Sliding your palms up his chest to wind your arms around his neck, you pushed up onto the balls of your feet to meet his lips in a smooth and plush meld. It was different to how you’d imagined it would be last night, in your dazed state of overstimulation and arousal. When you’d decided on sharing one last kiss with Neteyam and Lo’ak, you’d been dejected and you’d expected the kiss to be filled with an air of sad finality. But your kiss with Neteyam now burned bright with hope and promise.

Pulling away gently, Neteyam’s smile was wide and you could see your own happiness mirrored in his golden orbs. He nuzzled your cheek affectionately, rubbing his cheek along yours while you did the same. You felt lighter than you had in a long time, the blooming warmth of your joy radiating from your heart out towards your limbs and extremities. After so many miserable nights and awkward days, the relief and thrill of knowing that feelings were requited on both sides was wonderful.

Neteyam pressed a chaste kiss to your lips and he declared, “I want to court you, openly. I want every man and woman in this clan to know that you and I are seeing each other. No one else, no more shack visits with Lo’ak.”

You couldn’t help the beaming grin that danced across your cheeks, and you chased his lips with your own as you spoke, “Yes, I accept, and it wasn’t Lo’ak that I came to the shack for.”

You felt Neteyam’s strong arms embrace you again while his lips and tongue danced passionately with yours. When you felt his large hands move to your upper thighs to hoist you against him, you instinctively twined your legs around his slender waist, locking your ankles behind him. He manoeuvred both of you into his alcove, messily pulling the cloth drapes at its entrance closed to cocoon you both in the privacy of the space.

Lowering you gently onto the softness of his bed, you moaned quietly with delight at how everything smelled of him. The heavy weight of him settled beside you and he stretched out alongside the length of your body. You both turned to lie on your sides, facing each other. It was darker in the alcove with no lamps lit in the space, the only source of light being the glow of the main fire behind the draping cloths at the alcove entrance. But Na’vi eyes acclimatised quickly and soon you could clearly make out the contours of Neteyam’s handsome face.

Your eyes trailed his form slowly from head to toe, following the vividly glimmering constellations of his tanhì (bioluminescent freckles) on his face, down his chest, abdomen and his legs. You were unhurried as you drunk in the sight of him and he appeared to be doing the same, his eyes performing a similar trek over your own body. Eywa, he was so gorgeous… His body was just perfect, every defined muscle encased in warm, smooth skin that smelled of masculine virility.

You reached out to trail your fingers over his ribs and his toned abdominals, relishing the shudder you earned from him as your fingertips traced the sensitive skin of his hip.

One of his hands stroked across your cheek and he leaned in to kiss you gently, whispering a beloved declaration against your lips, “I love you.”

Your lips stretched wide and he felt your smile against him, “I love you too.”

“Shall I show you just how much?” Neteyam’s voice was a mischievous rasp.

You tittered and sighed desirously, “Yes, make love to me, you stubborn man.”

A dark chuckle from him, “You’re going to have to be quiet here though. Think you can do that?”

You nodded soundlessly, eagerly reaching to undo the ties of your chest covering and flinging it aside to bare your breasts to him. Neteyam’s groan was almost inaudible, but you felt the rumbling growl of it with how close you were to him. His hands were immediately on your breasts, the heat of his palms searing against your soft mounds. He kneaded your breasts, thumbs stroking sensually over your incredibly sensitive nipples that hardened under his attentions. The sensation made liquid heat pool between your thighs.

Your hands made quick work of your loincloth and the fabric was flung to join your top. You felt one of his hands snake around your hip to pull you closer to him, front to front, and when his legs tangled with yours you noticed he was bare against you too, devoid of his own loincloth. You smoothed a hand over his strapping chest, fingertips testing the hard muscle there before your hand meandered towards his neck and you clutched his head towards yours.

You kissed him languidly, tasting him and smelling him, marvelling that you could love him now, truly. No more pretending. No more holding back. After so long without his lips against yours, you could quite honestly say that if the pair of you did nothing but kiss all night, you’d still wake up satisfied.

Neteyam pulled back from the kiss then and you whimpered in complaint, but he hushed you with a thumb against your lips. He murmured to you, “Shh, I love you here,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Here,” A kiss to each of your eyes, “Here,” A kiss on your nose… And on he continued downward, your shoulders, a suckling kiss to each nipple, over your heart, your navel…

You lost count after that, just getting lost in the amorous bliss of his lips paying worship to every inch of your bare skin down to your toes. He didn’t disappoint though and when he parted your thighs to settle himself between your legs, and licked a full stripe from your pussy up to your clit, you jerked with a stifled cry.

“I love you especially here.” Neteyam growled. His mouth got to work, licking and suckling at your soon throbbing core while you watched him through hooded eyes.

His golden eyes locked with yours and the intensity of his gaze made your pussy clench, pouring with slick. Your fingers played absently with his beaded braids while your hips rocked against the moist paradise of his mouth. Your eyes could barely stay open as you enjoyed the building pleasure.

Something slid down one of your thighs then and you cracked open an eyelid just in time to see Neteyam trail the thick braid of his kuru (neural queue) over your hip towards you. It was a very intimate thing, to touch another’s kuru. The intimacy of the action was surpassed only by the making of tsaheylu between two people, but Neteyam’s invitation to you to touch his was clear.

Slowly, you reached for the meticulously braided length with one hand, gently running your fingers over the smooth hair around it. Neteyam let out a small sigh that puffed against your core and he closed his eyes, enjoying your caress. You trailed your hand closer towards the end of his queue where you knew the delicate pink tendrils of it were housed. Tenderly, your fingers delved past the ends of the hair around the sheath and a sharp jolt of pleasure raced through you as the tendrils enveloped your fingers.

Neteyam whimpered, his lips and tongue ceasing their work momentarily as pleasure shot down his queue and straight to his stiff cock which gave an excited spurt of pre-cum. It was new sensation to him and a thoroughly erotic one. He couldn’t describe it, but as your fingers played with the tendrils, it was almost as if he could feel your fingers touching him at every single erogenous zone simultaneously. He resumed his feasting of your core, tongue lapping at your slick folds that only seemed to moisten further with each lap of his tongue.

His name was a whispered sigh on your lips as your clit pulsated and your inner walls squeezed. The addition of a couple of his fingers came next and he sealed his lips over your nub to suck intently at it. The tendrils of his kuru fizzled pleasantly in and around your fingers. You didn’t know what made you do it, instinct perhaps, but you brought it up towards one of your breasts then, letting the squirming tendrils attach and wrap themselves around your areola and nipple.

The pleasure was instantaneous and Neteyam’s groan against your flesh told you he felt it too. A wave of ecstasy flushed through you from your nipples to your core, throwing you into the inescapable clutches of an orgasm. Mindful of your surroundings, your mouth formed a silent ‘o’ and your fingers twisted in his hair while you writhed in bliss. Neteyam’s hand gripped onto the flesh of your hips, keeping you still enough so he could continue to drink from your core.

Your desire burned feverishly within you despite the shattering climax you’d just experienced and you were impatient to have more of him against you. Tugging at his braids to get his attention, Neteyam lifted his face, licking his lips while his cheeks glistened with the evidence of your arousal. His expression was almost feral as he crawled up your body on all fours, and you spied his straining erection, watching it bob as he made his way up to you.

You shot him a slow smile as he settled himself alongside you again and the mess on his face didn’t deter you from kissing him. You murmured, “Thank you.”

“I’m enchanted by you, paskalin. I’ll do anything you ask for as long as I live.”

A hot blush stained your cheeks at his romantic words and you didn’t know whether to kiss him again or hide your face. You saw him look at the end of his kuru where it remained attached to your breast and you urged him, “Leave it. This might sound strange, but it’s as though I can feel you better. And it feels good.”

Neteyam smirked at you and nodded in agreement, “What would you like now? I’m impatient to have you though.”

His shifted his hips, his drooling erection slipping against your lower belly. You chortled softly at him and you took pity on his aching flesh, reaching down with a hand to greet his cock with a familiar stroke. A loud grunt left Neteyam and you hushed him, ears twitching and listening to the surroundings of the shelter. No one had returned yet, you were quite sure, the both of you would’ve heard them. Though it paid to be cautious.

Getting caught in a compromising position with the olo’eyktan’s son in the olo’eyktan’s home was not a misdemeanour you wanted against your record.

You continued your teasing stroke and squeeze of his cock, revelling in the sound of Neteyam’s strained panting by your ear. You paused by the swollen tip, running your thumb back and forth over his frenulum, which drew a very vulgar curse from him. His free hand was stimulating your other nipple while the tendrils of his kuru undulated over your other. The stimulation made your pussy ache and your clit throb longingly and you rubbed your thighs together to try and ease the pressure.

“Let me help you with that. You know I can fill you up so good.” Neteyam purred, thrusting his hips so his cock slipped faster in the grasp of your hand as if to press his point.

You smirked at him and licked sensuously over his parted lips with your tongue, “No, I think I’ll tease you a bit more for being so mean to me earlier. Besides, I want to try something.”

Your introduction to Neteyam’s neural queue made you eager to return the favour. Reaching behind you with your other hand, you brought your kuru over your shoulder and carefully held its end out between you, the twisting pink tendrils greeting Neteyam with their rippling dance. Already breathing heavily from the pleasure you were giving his cock, he lifted his hand to meet your tendrils, and both of you gasped as they twined around his fingers.

The sensation was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. Heat flushed over your skin and you prickled everywhere that you were sensitive; your nipples hardened and your pussy gushed with more slick. An unbidden erotic image came to you of your kuru’s tendrils wrapped around Neteyam’s cock and you shivered with delight at the thought.

Gently pulling your kuru from Neteyam’s fingers, you gradually inched it down towards his midsection, wanting to make the image your brain had supplied a reality. You watched him for any sign of discomfort or uncertainty, but his pupils were blown so wide with arousal you could hardly see the gold of his irises, and he looked on with as much eager anticipation as you did. Releasing his cock where you held it in your right hand, you brought left hand with your kuru towards it. The tendrils eagerly wrapped around their new target, coiling around the head and upper shaft.

You felt Neteyam’s body lurch at the same time that a wave of immense gratification shot through your neural queue to your own core.

“Fuck, Neyomi.” Neteyam keened and you saw his cock pulse, emitting a viscous string of pre-cum. It continued to throb and you swore your clit was throbbing in time with it.

Neteyam groaned aloud again, evidently struggling to keep to his own rule of being quiet. You rolled onto you back, pulling him atop you and silencing him with a deep kiss. You drowned in the moist heat of his mouth, lips and tongues waltzing in-between the twist and turn of your heads. He was rocking his hips against yours, his cock trapped between your bodies while your kuru still remained coiled around his sensitive flesh.

He broke away from the kiss with a sharp hiss of pleasure, “Wiya (damn), I’m going to cum like this if I can’t have you soon.”

“Yeah? Does that feel good?”

“Too good. Please, I need you.” Neteyam pleaded with a whimper, and he continued to ramble, “I know you must be aching for me. Let me make you squirt on my cock. You must have missed that right? All those weeks you didn’t come to the shack.”

You paused. It was true, you had missed him and missed his body, but you’d technically managed to squirt too with the dildo you’d poached from the shack…

When you didn’t answer, Neteyam stilled in his movements and he turned questioning eyes at you, “What is it?”

You bit your lip sheepishly, wondering if you should fib your way out of the situation or tell him the truth and make him feel a little less special. You didn’t want to start your new relationship off with a lie, so you resolved to be truthful, “I did manage to squirt whilst I wasn’t with you.”

His eyes widened and he looked rather taken aback.

“N-Not with someone else!” You quickly amended, “I pinched one of the toys from the shack a while ago when you and Lo’ak weren’t looking. It ah- It does the trick.”

Neteyam’s face suddenly morphed into a very smug smile and he leaned down to nibble at the point of your ear while he drawled, “Oh the dildo. We wondered where it had gone. Did you enjoy it, you little snitch?”

You shivered against him and rubbed your cheek against his, “Yeah, so your cock’s not the only one that can make me squirt. Sorry.”

Neteyam’s answering chuckle was deep and self-assured, “Don’t be. I’m not sorry about that.”

Confusion coloured your face and you pulled your head back to look at him, “You’re not?”

Neteyam’s expression was still incredibly conceited when he shook his head. He reached down and gently removed your kuru from his cock, keeping hold of it still though and letting its tendrils find purchase amongst his fingers instead. Sliding his knee between your thighs, he urged your to part your legs for him, which you did without hesitation. Balancing over you on his forearms, he settled his hips against yours and began a tantalising rub of his cock against your folds. You moaned with want and hooked your ankles behind his lower back.

“Why would I be upset about you squirting on that dildo,” He taunted huskily, “When that dildo was made from a mould of my cock?” His last words were punctuated with a sharp thrust of his hips, his long length penetrating you suddenly and fully to the hilt.

You threw your head back against the bedding with a guttural cry, uncaring at that moment if anyone heard you. Well that explained a lot about why that dildo had felt so good inside you… You didn’t have time to ponder on that thought. You clutched at Neteyam’s body, arms wrapped tight around his torso, your legs locked around his hips as he settled into a rhythm of rocking thrusts.

“You’re mine, paskalin.” Neteyam vowed and his lips found yours again in an all-consuming meld that set your heart and soul alight with elation.

You couldn’t get enough of him. He was all around you, over you, in you, and yet you still felt like you needed him to be closer. Your fronts were pressed to each other’s and your tails were twined; if you died like this you knew you would die the happiest you’d ever been. Your mouths remained fused, pausing only for short intakes of breath before finding each other again.

Neteyam’s thrusts were slow, but they were deep and you could feel every last ridge and outline of his cock inside you. The depth of his movements was delicious and the intense and pulsing throbs of your pelvic muscles signalled an impressive climax on the horizon for you.

Neteyam broke away from your kiss, tucking his face into the side of your neck to stifle his own reflexive moans of enjoyment. You knew he was close too from the shudder of his torso with each of his thrusts, and you could somehow feel his pleasure too, from his kuru at your breast and your kuru within his grasp.

Great Mother, you could only imagine how breathtaking it would feel when two people mated and made tsaheylu…

The winding spiral of pleasure twisted tighter and tighter in your lower belly, and your fingernails scored Neteyam’s back whilst you teetered on the brink of oblivion. You felt suspended in time, the only sounds you could hear were the pounding of your hearts and Neteyam’s harsh groans as he too hovered on the edge. He lifted his head and his gaze locked with your own, each of your pleasure-filled reflections mirrored in the dark pupils of each other’s eyes.

It was the only reflection you ever wanted to see in his eyes, your own face staring back at you. You never wanted to be without Neteyam again and as your heart shattered with the depth of your love for him, so did your core. Your climax swept through you like a tidal wave, your pussy clenching down and pulsing rhythmically as the wetness of your squirt gushed between your bodies. Your face twisted into what you hoped was a silent scream while the pleasure consumed you.

The squeeze and clench of your walls around his cock, as always, was nirvana for Neteyam. His entire frame tensed and went rigid, and he gritted his teeth hard to keep himself from shouting out his pleasure as he ejaculated. Your body milked him for every drop he had and your pussy continued to flutter around his swollen length pleasurably.

“Neteyam… Neteyam…” You whispered his name in a blissful chant and though your arms and legs shook from exertion, you kept them wrapped about him, not wanting to let him go. You mewled in complaint when he tried to roll his weight off you, so he deftly rolled you both so you could lie on top of him, still intimately joined.

Neteyam clasped you to him, on arm draped over your back while his other hand made soothing strokes over your hair. He could feel your breaths puffing gently into the crook of his neck where your cheek rested against his collarbone. His kuru and yourshad detached at some point and they trailed alongside your bodies, but it took nothing away from the intimacy you were both still wrapped up in.

“By Eywa, you’re it for me, you know that?” Neteyam affirmed with a hoarse chuckle, “Without a doubt. I’ll never look at another woman again.”

Your heart soared at his words and you knew, if you could see yourself, that your tanhì would be glowing bright with your immeasurable joy and contentment, “I guess we’re both ruined for each other then.”

“Will you be mine, formally? Will you accept this offer of betrothal?”

You gasped softly at his request. Your heart screamed your answer, affirmative without any hesitation, but the cogs in your mind began to turn. His betrothal request was unexpected. You’d agreed earlier to be courted openly by him, but a betrothal was serious. It was an engagement to be mated for life and while your heart danced for joy, your conscience questioned, not his fit for you as a mate, but your fit for him as mate to the olo’eyktan.

“Neyomi?” Neteyam queried quietly at your silence. His apprehension was clear in his tone.

You raised your head to regard him, blinking wide eyes at him, “I want to accept, but what if I turn out to be wrong for you? What if I’m not fit to stand by your side as wife to the olo’eyktan?”

He laughed at you then, relief sweeping over his face when he realised why you were hesitating, “You stand by my side every day already, paskalin. You’re my second-in-command and you’ve partnered with me, challenged me where I needed to be, and supported me for years. You already hold the position without the formal title.”

Tears sprang to your eyes as your emotions began to gain the upper hand. You murmured wetly, “You really want me like that? Forever?”

Neteyam craned his head upward to brush his lips against yours, “I want you every way that I can have you. As my second-in-command, my wife, mother of my children…”

His words trailed off, interrupted by you as you pulled him against you to claim his lips in another searing kiss, “Yes! I accept.”

There was commotion then in the main space of the family’s shelter. Hushed whispers and soft chatter sounded, indicating the return home of the other Sullys.

A very loud and contrived coughing fit sounded from Lo’ak, who cleared his throat dramatically several times, apologising repeatedly for his noisy fuss. You and Neteyam grinned at each other in the darkness, chortling to yourselves, knowing full well that Lo’ak was wanting to ensure the both of you knew that you were no longer alone.

You settled your head against Neteyam’s chest again, closing drowsy eyes and basking in the afterglow.

Neteyam murmured a bedtime prayer and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, “Sleep, my love and I’ll rise to kiss you again in the morning.”

***~~~***

You were awoken by the sound of soft knocking against wood and a feminine voice calling out gently.

Neteyam stirred beneath you, his shoulder shifting beneath your cheek. You’d slept pressed against each other the entire night and were it not for the corporeality of the situation currently, you would’ve sworn it was all just a wonderful dream.

More knocking sounded and you were grateful to see the cloth drapes at the alcove entrance remained shut. Neither of you was decent yet.

The feminine voice called again and you recognised it to be Kiri’s, “Good morning, you two. The day has long begun.”

Part of you sighed in relief. Better Kiri than Neytiri. Great Mother, you didn’t want to face Neteyam’s mother right now after a sensual night with him, under their roof…

Neteyam’s smile was debonair and he blinked sleepy eyes at you. You squinted back at him, the harsh daylight outside obvious even in the confines of the shelter. You startled with a gasp. Daylight! By Eywa, what was the time?!

Scrambling for your clothing, you smacked Neteyam’s thigh, “Neteyam! The hunters! We’ve got patrol this morning!”

Kiri’s laughter sounded like a charming peal of shell chimes from behind the drapes, “Mm yes, I daresay it caused quite the stir when both the commander of the warriors and his second-in-command didn’t turn up for work today.”

A long and grumbled curse hissed out from Neteyam as he pressed the fingers of one hand into his eyes.

Kiri was quick to chastise, clucking her tongue in reprimand, “Language, brother. Besides, there’s no need to fret. Dad and Lo’ak stepped in to lead today’s patrol. There isn’t any urgency for you.”

Dressing quickly nonetheless, you shared a chaste kiss with Neteyam before he drew back the alcove drapes. Kiri stood with her arms folded, looking mighty amused as her eyes flitted sagaciously between the pair of you.

Kiri’s shrewd eyes took in your form, trailing you from head to toe again, but there was a teasing glint in them when she spoke, “That was some apology you had for my brother.”

Flushing a deep shade of violet, you greeted the young woman meekly, “Good morning, Kiri.”

“Where’s Mum?” Neteyam asked, glancing around the empty shelter with nervous eyes. He threaded his fingers through yours to hold your hand. His mother wouldn’t have been pleased by what the both of you had done. Yes, you were both grown adults and intimacy was not frowned upon amongst the people, but there was a certain respect that one had to have for their parents’ home.

Kiri giggled again with a polite hand over her mouth, “She’s out. She left early this morning to help Grandmother gather some herbs.” She snorted when she saw Neteyam visibly relax, and she couldn’t help but take another jab at him, amused by his discomfiture, “Oh don’t worry, Mum definitely wanted to throw you both out earlier this morning, but I think the Great Mother had something to say about that.”

You frowned, not understanding Kiri’s meaning. Neteyam’s ears too pricked in curious interest and he cocked a questioning head at his sister, “What do you mean?”

Kiri padded to the main archway of the family shelter and she pulled one half of the entry cloths aside, motioning with her head for both of you to step outside, “Come see for yourself.”

Following along a little behind Neteyam, the warmth of daylight greeted your skin as you both stepped out into the open. You heard Neteyam suck in a breath and halt in his steps. Blinking against the intense daylight, your eyes took a few moments to acclimatise. However, when they finally did and you took in the spectacle before you, you gave a loud gasp of surprise.

All around the Sullys’ family shelter, littering the ground and hovering about the structure, were dozens of atokirina (seeds of the sacred tree). The feathery seeds undulated about the place, sprinkling the shelter in a dusting of blessed white.

Kiri stepped out after the both of you, grinning, “Evidently Eywa thought all was right with the world.”

You felt Neteyam pull you to his side and he nuzzled your cheek tenderly. Your answering smile was bright and you placed a shy kiss on his shoulder.

“Do I need to tell Grandmother to make another formal announcement?” Kiri asked, smirking at the tender display of affection between you.

Neteyam’s beamed at his sister and his response was full of affectionate confidence, “Yes. Neyomi and I are both spoken for. We’re betrothed.”

And all was right with the world indeed…

Epilogue - Silwey's Reaction HERE

***~~~***

Author's Note: The end! THANK YOU again to all of you wonderful folks for your awesome support. I absolutely love interacting with everyone and it's because of you that this series became a reality. It was only ever meant to be a oneshot! I hope that you've relished Neteyam & Neyomi's (reader) journey to love. Let me know your thoughts, scream to me in the comments! Reblogs, likes & comments are always very appreciated. 😘

Tag list: @teymars @eyweveng @leaveitbythewave @luvteyams @akiras-key @bajbr @qcswrites @reggiesslut @neteluvr @savvysscandles @dasaniix @emery-333 @vintaqestar @live-laugh-neteyam @itssomeonereading @strawberry-vamp0 @delacruzyari @bluecooki3 @aalex561-blog @frustrated-kitten @innercreationflower @wolf12thsworld @wheneclipsefalls @iameatingmyhair  @ele-sme @investedreader @oasiswithmyg @daeneeryss @pandorxxx @anonka01 @hunbomb @pandoraslxna @adrianarose7 @sunghoonmyluv @notnat02 @getthisoverwith33 @simp4myself @spicymayyo @animehoe1-800 @daddysmurfslefttoenail @iman-lu @creepytoes88 @flyingspacewhale @neteyamswifesworld @lostress101 @nilsavatar @cloudyw1ndzz @itsjazzsworld @solemnlover @asweetblueberry2 @blue-slxt

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 22

part 1 | part 21 | ao3

“…Go ahead,” he relents with a heavy sigh.

He turns the radio back on for background noise, and Robin launches herself into a breathless recap of every minute detail she’s ever learned about Eddie Munson. Genuinely impressive how quickly the words come out; Steve thinks that if her dream of becoming a linguistics researcher ever falls through, she’s got a bright future ahead of her as one of those speedreaders who rattle off the fine print at the end of pharmaceutical ads.

Warning: Discussion of Eddie Munson may cause nausea, heartburn, palpitations, sweaty armpits, and an inconveniently timed half-chub any time you use a pocket knife. Talk to your doctor to see if Discussion of Eddie Munson is right for you!

“Which brings us to tonight,” she’s saying when he zones back in. “Let’s examine the facts, shall we?”

“Must we?”

“Yes, we must.”

She makes a loose fist, lifting her pointer finger with an aggressive flourish to kick off her ‘list of reasons Eddie has a big, fat crush on you.’ “Fact number one: he was conveniently wearing a super nice outfit.”

“He said he ran out of laundry.”

“And we’re buying that?” she scoffs. Her middle finger springs up to join the first one. “Two: he was so disgustingly up in your personal space. Like, you really should have seen it; it was—”

Mwah. Mwah mwah mwah. “Yeah, I don’t need another demonstration.”

“Three” —there goes her ring finger— “he came to a movie rental store that you just so happen to work at and then left without renting a movie.”

“Because you did something to spook him!”

“Which brings me to my fourth and final point.” Her pinky lifts up to join the team, fingers spread wide like a paper fan, and she telescopes her arm to shove them back and forth under his nose until he goes a little cross-eyed and bitches about her distracting the driver.

“Cut it out! You want me to drive us into someone’s trash cans?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Yeah, well I’m sending you the invoice when it scratches up the paint.”

She retreats to her side of the car, curling her back against the door and repeating, “My fourth and final point: I think he thinks we’re dating.”

“And? Everyone thinks we’re dating.”

“No, everyone wants us to be secretly dating,” she corrects. “But I’m pretty sure Eddie actually thinks I’m your girlfriend. You remember last week when you dropped me off at school?”

He does. Eddie had actually been there early for once; had been sitting on a bench out by the soccer fields, looking surly and half-asleep while he sucked down a cigarette. Hair all messed up by the wind. Looked kind of dangerous. Wild.

“He was, like, fully glaring at me when I walked into school that morning, and then he was super rude to me in band. Which, at the time, I was like, ‘oh, well I guess that’s just Eddie no one can ever tell what his mood’s gonna be like from day to day,’ but noo-o-ow…”

She starts squirming in her seat again, excitement overflowing as she finally cracks the case. “Now it all makes sense! Oh, my god! He totally hates me because he thinks we’re dating, and I’ll bet you anything he either didn’t know we work together or didn’t expect me to be there tonight and he totally, one hundred percent was there to flirt with you because he’s in lo—”

“Okay, Detective,” he cuts her off, because the tips of his ears are burning, and he doesn’t think he can handle her saying the L word out loud right now. “You’ve made your point, thank you.”

“Tell me I’m right.”

“Uh, no.”

“Come on.” She jabs at his side. “Tell me I’m right tell me I’m right tell me I’m—”

“—A fucking menace? Gladly.”

“Translation: I’m right and you’re mad about it,” she smirks, victorious.

Steve knocks his forehead against the wheel as he pulls up to her curb. “Why do I drive you places?”

“Because you love me." She flips her visor down to freshen up her lip balm, mumbling around the chapstick, "I’m adding Surly Best Friendlish to my list of fluencies; I think it'll really make my college applications pop."

"Yuh huh," Steve grumbles. The thought of Robin leaving for college always sits in his gut like raw bread dough — thick and heavy and gross, rising to form a swollen lump in his throat. "Didn't you already submit all of those?"

"Yes, I diiiid," she sings, shimmying her shoulders with pride. "Duke's gonna say yes, I just know it. Picture it with me: Robin L. Buckley," she gestures to an imagined marquee somewhere just beyond the windshield, "class of 1990."

Steve swallows the urge to be a sulky dick about it. "They'd be lucky to have you," he says quietly.

"Nope. No no, none of that. No moping." She tugs at his arm; links their elbows together. "You're not allowed to mope when we have a party to get ready for."

"No, you have a party to get ready for. I'm going home."

"Steeeve-uh!" Holy shit. He just had to be soulmates with the whiniest lesbian in a 500 mile radius, didn't he? "Come to the bonfire party with me!"

"Yeah, that's a no."

“It’ll be fun!"

It most certainly will not be. "You really want me to go freeze my ass off in the woods all night while a bunch of former classmates talk shit about me the second they think I'm out of earshot?" He's been to enough of his parents' 'networking events' over the years to know exactly how that'll go. A full night of subtly closed-off body language, smirking whispers and judgmental glances that dart away as soon as he meets them head on. Fuck that. "Thanks, but I'll pass."

He just wants to go home. Feels momentarily sick with the desire to drive himself to Loch Nora.

"What did I say about moping?" Robin asks. She shoves into his space, hugging his arm tighter and deploying her most lethal sad wet kitten face (and Steve doesn't even like cats; this shouldn't fucking work on him.) "Pleeeease," she begs. "Vickie's going to be there, and I could really use a friend."

"So ask a friend!"

"I am, dipshit!"

Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Goddamn this woman. Steve hangs his chin to his chest in defeat, notices the weird stain he got on his shirt during work. "I have some conditions," he concedes.

She throws her arms out wide. "Condition me, baby!"

"First— ew. Okay, I don't like that; don't call me baby." Yeesh, and furthermore, yuck. "First, I'm borrowing one of your shirts, and you're probably never getting it back."

"Understandable,” she nods as she gets out of the car. Steve follows her out, propping his elbows on the roof.

"Secondly,” he continues, “I'm getting very drunk at this stupid party, and you're figuring out how we get home."

She reaches out over the top of the car; gives his hand a quick squeeze when he puts it in hers. "That's three things," she says fondly, "but I can work with that."

—

part 23

tag list part 1 below the cut; comment if you'd like to be added tomorrow (not tagging ageless or under 21s unless we're mutuals or you let me know your age ✌️)

@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @questionablequeeries @runninriot @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutabed @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy

[wakeup01]

A Matching Pair

Goddammit. Why does he always have to argue about it. Can’t he ever put himself in my shoes and try and be more understanding.” I mumble to myself as my boyfriend fades out of sight down the empty train car. I sigh and stare out the window of the train, listening to the world outside shudder past.

“This space free?” Comes an excited voice, I look up to see a fit young guy casually drop onto the seat opposite me. He looked no older than 22 and was outfitted for some kind of sports game, with a designer tracksuit sagging off his hips, a red jersey that pressed against his lean stomach and a glossy puffer jacket.

“Uhhh…not really.” I remark, side-eying his trendy permed hair, perfectly styled and faded. I had never really understood the appeal of…‘fuckboys’; rich but devoid of personality - aside from the prepackaged one they adopt. In this case even I had to admit that he was rather attractive, in a blunt, dumb ‘grammer is for losers’ sort of way. There was a casual air of confidence in the way he carried himself, narcissistic? Sure, but maybe a little ego didn’t hurt, especially in the bedroom.

Shame he obviously wouldn’t be a sub - he’d look nice around my cock, although I can picture my boyfriend tripping over himself to placate his every whim. The perks of this ‘open relationship’ we had seemed increasingly one sided. Ugh. I’m quickly reminded of our argument, and my indignation wins out over my misguided lust.

“Mate, you look proper mad.” He chuckles, kicking off his trainers. He stretches out his legs and rests them on the seat next to mine.

“Name’s Dominic and I’m not….mad.” My voice trails off.

“Uh oh. Who is she then blud?” He gestures at me with his hands, rattling the horde of bracelets that buried his wrists.

“He.”

“Pftt. I should ‘av guessed. It’s all the same to me. I’m Trev ‘btw’. You off to the gay convention?” There’s a wry smile that is hard to be angry at, in fact I feel strangely comfortable with him. He seemed like a good listener.

“Funny, but yes. Meeting our friend Nate there.” I cross my arms in a futile attempt to appear more dominant.

“Wait, they have those now?” My eyes squint at him. “Just fucking with you. I got a game the next town over. I’m a player.”

“Wow, you don’t say.”

“Maybe you’ve seen me play on the tele eh?” He puts on a face and flashes his shiny white teeth proudly.

“Sure…” He was in a professional team? Like I’d know.

“So spill, what’s the issue with yuh ‘boy’? His ‘bussy’ too small?” My mouth begins to move before I really get the chance to think about what I’m saying, or why I’m telling him at all.

“Ugh. He just never tries to see things from my perspective, he always expects me to play the ‘top’. About everything. And I don’t share his weird kinks.”

“TMI. Oh. You’re the top? And your name is Dom? ‘Lolz’. Is your boy called SUBastian?” He laughs mischievously. His brazen use of text speech was strangely endearing, something I thought impossible.

“Dominic. And no, his name’s Addy.” I correct, flatly.

“Uh huh. Yeah, and have you tried the same? See things from Addy’s point of view. Find equal ground right. Maybe I can help. It’s like when there’s a disagreement in our footy team.”

“I don’t think it’s quite the same thing…”

“Should give it a try Dom, see how it feels to be the sub. It can be fun to let someone else take charge. Easy too when you don’t overthink it. Go on, just lay back and relax.” Yes, I’m sure this will solve all our problems. I humour him anyway, resting my back against the seat’s cushion. Ten seconds pass in silence, just the hum of the train carriage throbbing rhythmically.

“This is stupid-“

“Shush.” Trev stares at me intently, trapping my eyes into his own. I don’t think to look away, why would I. He continues talking, I hear the words floating past me but don’t register what they are. It feels like minutes until his fingers snap in front of his face, and the spell is broken. He just smiles and waits expectantly for me to reply. His legs move from the seat next to me and I follow their movement.

“I—I guess.” I stutter, unsure of what I’m replying to, feeling slightly dizzy, like waking from a dream. For some reason my eyes seem drawn to his feet, now resting on the edge of my own seat, fidgeting between my thighs. I didn’t notice that they were sockless before… or that they were so big.

“Deeper.” He snaps his fingers again. My eyes are feeling so heavy, it’s becoming harder to keep them open. “Picture your boy sitting in your place. See it in your head.” I think about him, see his dreamy smile, like the one growing on my face. “So easy.” Trev repeats, my head nodding absently to his words. He adjusts and pushes his feet against my groin. Hmmf. I should tell him to stop. To stop…

“Uhh.” The dull sound leaves my lips instead of the words I wanted, the rubbing sensation fraying the edges of my thoughts.

Trev’s fingers fiddle at his pockets. He pulls out a vape stick and blows a huge bubblegum flavoured cloud of smoke into my face. The fumes flow through my open mouth and circle my head. His hands appear to be moving in slow motion, like everything was suddenly at half speed.

“Being in charge is exhausting huh. Much better to just relax and follow along, like your boyfriend would.” Yeah, he would probably do whatever this guy asked him to.

“I bet he’d rub my feet If I told him to.”

“Yeah.” I agree, wrapping my hands around Trev’s chunky feet - he definitely would. I run my fingers up and down his sole, picturing my boyfriend in this situation.

“Eyes up here fam.”

*snap*

I look back up at him, falling into his stare once more, entranced. My hands continue to massage him, passing over the curves and arches of his large feet. The shame of doing this in a public place completely lost on me. “Good foot boy.” I fail to hold back a moan at the validation. Is this what it feels like? It feels…nice, good.

I sense my body start to slowly lean forward of its own volition. Trev loudly exhales, his lips pursing. Another dose of bubblegum mist fogs my view. “What else would your boy do?”

“Don’t know…”

“Bet he’d love to sniff my lush feet hm?”

Probably, I think. He was way more kinky than me about such things. This guy’s feet were quite ripe after all, maybe if I got a bit closer…no—no what am I doing? I begin to pull back when his intense eyes narrow at me.

“It’s okay. I can see you want to take a whiff too. Boy.” His inflection changed on the last word. There was something about the way he said it. Powerful.

“My—my boyfriend will be-“ My voice cracks.

“Put your fucking nose here. And sniff my cheesy feet.” He orders, accentuating each word, dropping all pretence - his finger snapping and pointing down.

It’s like a switch being pressed in my head. The words cut like a knife right through any lingering hesitation. My face lowers and inhales deeply, sucking up his harsh scent.

“Yeah.” I mumble from behind his feet in a daze.

“Yeah what?”

*snap snap*

“Yes sir.” I don’t know why I said it, it just slipped from my lips and then it was too late to take it back. Too late to stop, as my face leans down to his foot like a magnet. Too late to pretend I didn’t want a sniff, my nostrils breathing the thick musky air.

“A good start boy.” I tentatively take a couple more whiffs, a part of me still attempting to hold back, feeling self aware. He rolls his eyes and shoves his feet forcefully into my face, my nose pushed snugly between his big toe. His stench shrouds my head like a cloud. The concept of ‘disgusting’ faded to nothingness.

“Salt and vinegar flavour, your fav.” Trev asserts. It became true the moment the words left his lips. Salty and eye watering. My favourite. My cock liked it too apparently.

“You look so much better under me, worshiping me - where you belong. Keep going.” And I did. Breathing deeply, in and out. In and out. The heat from his foot radiates outwards, travelling down my body, seeping into my skin. “Wouldn’t your boy agree to be at my feet at all times If that’s what I wanted?” He—I would. I want nothing else.

“Of course sir.” I say, unaware that the words would seal my fate.

Something is changing. A shift in weight. My whole body starts to feel lighter, filling with air. My skin itches, a rash forming across it’s surface - bleaching every inch an even, clean white. The rash crawls down my chest, flattening my modest set of abs, leaving everything it touches incredibly soft, absorbent and flexible. Tiny strands of fuzzy cotton fabric poke out from each pore; the changes showed no sign of stopping.

Everything is happening all at once, alarms try and go off in my brain but it’s preoccupied swimming in a musky drunken stupor. My feet seem to leave the floor as my form inexplicably shrinks, the length of my arms folding inwards as my body simplifies.

“Look at you bruv. You were easy as fuck.” I gaze up at him, his smug face towering over me, looking so far away. A puff of vape smoke floats down towards me, particles dissolving on my cushioned skin. The sweet aroma mixes with the smell of his sour feet. “Just one look into my eyes and you were done. Get socked bro.”

Trev started to appear bigger and bigger, his feet dwarfing my new size, now taking up my whole view. It was like my essence was being pulled around his foot. My mouth opens and his toes slip effortlessly inside, stretching me out and making themselves at home. The rest of his foot follows, his ankle resting at my opening. It sets off my gag reflex momentarily, before feeling perfectly natural, like I was tailor made for his foot.

“Sorry bud, they’re a size 13.”

The taste of his potent sole explodes into me. I’m violently shaken out of my trance-like haze, the world around me speeds up. I try and desperately pull away, lucidity returning like a slap to the face. Why am I on the floor? Why is his foot in my mouth?! Oh shit oh shit!

“Get socked!” Trev yells enthusiastically. “Get fucking socked!”

Control is slipping away. My skin pulls taut around his foot, the fabric digging between his toes. It feels as though every part of me is pressed against him, his warmth surrounding me. My new shape settles into place, defined by his smooth curves.

I can’t move my ‘body’ at all, but all my senses still persist…somehow. My blurry vision clears, a sudden shift in view makes me disoriented. It’s as if I have a pov of the room from the bottom of Trev’s foot, he lowers it to the floor and my worldview erratically drops to carpet level before going dark. The material of the carpet brushes against me, the strange sensation is embarrassingly pleasing; bringing attention to the absence of my cock. Relief now seemed impossible.

“Socked. Man, I love that initial freshness. Tbh, it makes the inevitable even more fun.”

He pushes the weight of his foot into me, his sweaty soles sticking to my tight fabric body. It feels humiliating to be literally stuck on the ground. His stench clings to me, soaking me in his foot musk. The imprint of his toes yellowing my surface. It’s like having his foot down my throat, perpetually swallowing his mind numbing sweat.

“Mmm that’s good, you hang so tightly. A perfect fit. Hope you like sucking on my rank fucking toes. Cuz now you’re just my stinky ripe sock. Fucking idiot. Can’t wait to get you worn in.”

That’s not possible, I can’t be a sock…it defies logic. This is a nightmare I’m about to wake up from, any second now…any second…

He pulls at me and stretches my ribbed opening up and over his tracksuit, stuffing the silky material into me.

“So much more… pliable.” Trev wiggles his toes and my body conforms to it’s every movement, lodging in between each one. I try and desperately struggle, do something. I manage to achieve a light wriggle that only helps pull myself tighter against his skin.

Trev lifts his foot and points it towards the window, the dark night air rushing past outside. A clear reflection echoes back. I stare at it in disbelief, wanting to blink the reality from my eyes. A caricature of my shocked face is crudely printed on the underside of the sock - trapped frozen in time, with the word ‘SNIFF’ sewn into the fabric. The material was already beginning to discolour. Logic or not, That’s all I am now - a cheap white sock. His sock. An object.

“Basic as fuck boy makes basic as fuck sock. Lit.” He points out, smirking in the reflection while he checks out his new kit. Trev puts his feet back up on the seat, letting me watch the empty space where I had been sitting - back when I was more than just his property.

“Enjoy the view, while you can cheesy. You’re going to spend most of your time staring at the floor, or the inside of my fumigated sneaker.” What joy. I hadn’t even thought about that, about what comes next. Surely he didn’t plan to keep me like this? “Hmm. I think the name Dominic is a bit too fancy for you now, how about…sock. Simple, to the point.” Trev steps me back against the ground, his heel slightly raised. “Suits you, don’t you think sock?”

Light footsteps thud from down the carriage, getting closer and closer. “Hey babe. I wanted to apologise, Nate thinks—who are you? Umm where’s my boyfriend?” Addy had returned, this was my chance.

I wanted to shout and cry out to him, to get his attention anyway possible. I conjured a barely audible rustle and then nothing. All it did was reinforce how small and subservient I now felt, forced to listen to my owner in silence.

“Oh he’s not gone far, cutie. Sit.”

I hear my boyfriend stammer from above. All it took was one compliment and he turned to putty. In most cases it was endearing, but right now I needed him to be anything but agreeable.

I feel the weight on me shift. I glide through the air again, Addy’s expression coming into view across from me, from us.

“He’s…” Addy looks me over curiously.

“Yep. He got socked.”

“Gosh. That’s…hot.” His cheeks blush.

WHAAT! You’ve got to be kidding me! Damn, why did he have to be so kinky when I need him to rescue me. I can recognise his horny face a mile away.

“Now it’s your turn. Look at my eyes.” Trev’s voice taking on a more serious tone. Addy’s eyes dart up, quickly becoming ensnared by Trev’s hypnotic gaze. No, please snap out of it. “Good, keep looking. Relax. Let me give you the deets. In a few minutes you’re gonna have the privilege of having my foot up your arse, sucking up my sweat as a thin piece of fabric like your bf. You’ll be my sock puppet, controlled completely by my foot. You can already feel my toes pushing at your mind. You want it. Say it.” Trev waves me back and forth, hypnotically.

“But…mmm,”

“Say it.”

*snap*

“I — I want to be your smelly sock puppet. Pleaseee Master.” He moans in a trance.

“Course you do.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Addy’s shorts were noticeably tenting, a wet spot forming at the tip. He was getting off on the idea! “Sock puppet. Look at your boy, read the word sewn into him. You know what to do.”

Addy’s head leans towards me, eclipsing my vision. His huge nose presses up against me, his eyes dilating. I can feel his wavering breath brush at my cotton skin. He did exactly what the sock - me, said to and sniffed. The hesitant whiffs quickly devolve into enthusiastic huffing.

“Babeee. Hmmf. You smell so niceee. Mmmm.”

“That’s an obedient sock sniffing sock puppet.” Trev assured him. ”Now onto the other one.” Addy moves away from my view, I can only see him shuffling at the edge of my narrow locked vision. “Ready to join him?”

“Yes masterrrr.” Addy’s voice slurs monotonously. “Enter me and take control. We’re both yours.” Like hell we are!

“I want you to lick this foot clean like a dirty dog before it becomes your new home.” I hear him start to slobber all over Trev. “Good puppet. Get socked.”

The sound of my boyfriend licking and moaning in heat continued for what felt like an eternity. There was nothing I could do but be suspended in the air like my owner deemed appropriate.

“It’s time to become a puppet. Turn around and spread that cute bubble butt. There we go, feel my foot enter your rear, filling you up, fucking your tiny brain. Ufff. Tight. Fuck. Let’s stretch you out, nice and wide. Ahh that’s better. Your hole clamping around my ankle. Yeah. Becoming soft and flexible. A sock puppet. A sweat guzzling, empty-headed, dirty filthy sock puppet.” I can just about see Addy’s head, craning back in pleasure as he’s foot fucked.

“Butt feels…Hnng my—my body…” Addy pants desperately.

“Now belongs to my fat fucking foot. SOCK. PUPPET.

“Pu—puppet.” Addy’s bobbing head pulls out of sight, compressing around the invader inside him.

“Sock puppet. Surrendered all free will. Sock puppet. Commanded by feet. What are you?”

“I’m a sock… a sock puppet. Mmmmf…I’m a soooommfff.”

His voice goes silent. I can only assume he’s turning into a perfect match for Trev’s other foot. The thought horrifies me, but also gets me a little excited. I glimpse a pristine white shape shudder next to me. Trev sits up and places both feet flat on the ground, in order to admire his new additions to the collection.

“Hell yeah. You two make the cutest pair. Glad I could help bring you ‘together’. And no more worries about disagreements ‘lmao’. Go on, kiss and make up.”

Trev bends his legs and points me at Addy’s new form, his lustful face captured on the socks sole; the word ‘LICK’ was immortalised above. I was for sniffing and he for licking, it made a bizarre kind of sense to my addled brain. He brings his feet together and rubs us both against each other, our ‘faces’ pressed closely. My mind blurs, the friction bringing searing white hot bliss. God it’s amazing. He was so soft! Please more. More! Babe. Don’t stop. Get socked!

Trev eventually pulls us apart, I watch the folds of Addy’s loose fabric pull taut, finalising his transformation. He made a cute sock, just like me. We were now on equal footing. Wait, what am I thinking? This is insane, I don’t want this! Was I stuck like this? Would it be really so bad? No, stop.

I realised that the smell was permeating my thoughts, twisting them. Knowing that didn’t change how good it felt, how good his touch felt, his musk.

“Don’t worry, when I go to replace you I’ll be sure to sell you on as a pair to one of my foot sluts. Let’s be honest, as socks go, you’re kinda ‘mid’ at best.” The comment did nothing to reassure me about turning back to human. “Man you gay nerds are so dumb, none of you can resist my scent. It’s like you want to be part of my fit. Even my sneaks gave more of a struggle than you two lovebirds. All I need now is some new undies to stretch over my ass and hug my fat dong and balls. Know anyone?” Trev pauses and then laughs to himself.

As each minute passed my mind became more subdued, it was relaxing, becoming content. The part that was angry, defiant, was shrinking. A bubbling happiness was slowly expanding within me. I did my best to push it back but with my senses overwhelmed, it was a seemingly losing battle. Addy was probably already loving every second of it.

“Let’s have some fun. Which one of you will make a good cum sock? Who am I kidding, you’ll both be great. But for now…”

He peels me free from his foot, holding me limply in the air. For a moment I feel incredibly empty, already missing his warmth. The disappointment is short lived; I’m quickly filled out as he pulls me over a stiff pole. His cock. His glorious thick shaft. I’m forced to swallow it whole, it’s tip poking at my edges.

With his hand around me he wanks me furiously, using me as sleeve. ‘Don’t enjoy it’, I shout internally. This sucks. This sucks! It’s hard to ignore the pleasure it brings the both of us. Oh god I’m being stretched out by him completely. It sucks. Sucks… this…mmm. Faster. Go faster! Fill me! Cum inside me, mark me as yours!

My sexy owners pumping reaches a crescendo, now with both hands thrusting me up and down. One final tug. A grunt. A twitch. Thick copious splooge unloads right into me, flooding my interior. His fuckboy seed is absorbed into me, my cotton body sucking up every drop. A dark patch spreads across me and crusts over as it dries. The bitter taste lingers, like the cum was sat on my tongue.

“Fuck me, that was sweet. But enough fun.” Trev pulls me off his dick and janks me back over his foot, his toes push against my cum stained dark spot, still damp.

Trev’s phone starts to ring with some loud trap song. “Trev. Yeah. Yeah mate. Course, you fucka. Be arriving soon. Mint, I got me some new gear too. Ace. Uh huh…K, chat tomorrow.”

What would have normally been inane babble to me made a concerning amount of sense, like his identity was somehow rubbing off on me.

He stands up, dragging something over to him with his other foot. I’m lifted high into the air, tauntingly hovering over his beat up shoe. I can’t help but look down at my future smelly prison. I don’t think my mind can take any more…

It didn’t help knowing that the sneaker was once a guy, now heavily used. It was like seeing a glimpse of my own fate. Mmmm.

“Let’s get you acquainted.”

I see the trainer hurtle towards me as I’m lowered to the floor. My edges slide effortlessly into the pungent confines of his sneaker, the thick stale air engulfing me. I’m pressed against the stained sole and squelch against it’s moist surface; the outline of his foot clearly indented into the material. My vision goes pitch black.

The stench is blasted at me from all sides. Fuck me. I don’t stand a chance against it, my mind is drowned beneath its waves. Sinking below as new, more simple desires emerge.

There’s a muffled sound of an announcement playing overhead. “Guess this is where we get off lads. I should probably warn you, me mates and I have a footie match tomorrow. And I don’t plan on removing you, after that I expect you won’t even want to be turned back. Not that I ever planned to. I’m sure you stinkheads don’t object? Sorted.”

I didn’t object, in fact, I— I think I was looking forward to it. My printed face would probably be completely yellow by the end of it, as it should. Mmm.

The weight of his foot lifts as I feel myself rise from the floor and then just as quickly I’m pushed back down to the ground. My boyfriend being subject to the same in tandem. A second later and it happens again and then again, each step the strength of his body squishes me against the shoes insole, which sticks to my surface. And each time, my brain is submerged in a pleasant sweaty haze, scattering whatever dim thoughts I had left. The weight flattening my mind to sodden mush. Rewarding me for fulfilling my role as his smelly, mindless sock, us both huffing at our owners beautiful addictive feet. Together.

“Maybe we should stop off at that gay convention first, see how many noses we can get pressed against you two while you get sucked dry. Plus, we could find that friend of yours to get wrapped around my big sweaty butt.”

Yeahhh…I bet Nate would make a perfect pair of fucking briefs.