#this is like such a long shot but whatever | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mimiiiiiiiiisstuff · 2 days ago

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Ok yall I'm back with chapter 7!! Hopefully this posts bc it wasn't working yesterday. Sorry if it's confusing, I rewrote it like 5 times! I tried not to use {y/n} but i mightve slipped up! Hope ya'll enjoy!! The plot is finally moving!! Lmk if you have any questions. Likes, reblogs, and asks motivate me! I love when yall send me your ideas and comments and asks! Wish me luck, I'm posting this and then taking my math exam! If you don't like it, don't read, stop sending mean asks and submissions!

Breakfast the next morning was horrible.

The awkward silence lingered, thick with unspoken words and eyes that felt like they were scanning every inch of you. You could feel their weight on your back, like a thousand invisible hands pushing you deeper into your seat, forcing you to stay in this uncomfortable moment.

You could already feel the heat rising in your chest, but you bit your lip, forcing yourself to take a deep breath. You weren’t going to lose your cool—not yet.

Damian’s gaze was fixed on you, like he was waiting for some kind of reaction, his lips pressed into a thin line. You knew what he was expecting: compliance. Submission. He expected you to shrink back under his scrutiny. And yet, there was something oddly satisfying about not giving him that satisfaction.

Instead, you focused on the plate in front of you, stabbing your fork into the pancakes with far too much force. You were still hungry, but the food felt like cardboard in your mouth, tasteless and dry, even though Alfred’s cooking was always the best.

Bruce was still watching you, his eyes heavy with a kind of expectant patience, like he was just waiting for you to crack. You could feel the tension in the room like a ticking clock, the seconds stretching longer than you’d ever thought possible.

"Why are you all staring at me?" you finally muttered, breaking the silence, your voice low but biting. You didn't look up from your plate, but you could feel the eyes on you. They all thought they could break you. They thought you were some fragile little thing, someone they could fix with their pity and their "family time." But you weren’t. You’d stopped being that person a long time ago.

Dick was the first to speak, his voice softer than usual, like he was trying to tread lightly around you. “We’re just trying to connect, I know it’s been a long time, and things got… complicated, but we don’t want to lose you again. Not after all this time.”

His words weren’t as comforting as he probably thought they were. In fact, they made your skin crawl. He was trying to be kind, but it felt forced, like he was reading from a script. You didn’t need this. Not from him, not from any of them. You wanted them to stop pretending like they could fix everything with a few hugs, a couple of "we missed you"s.

“I didn’t ask for this,” you said quietly, your voice almost a whisper, but it carried a weight. “I didn’t ask to be here. And I didn’t ask to be part of this family anymore.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened at your words, but he didn’t say anything at first. You could feel the flicker of something in his expression—guilt, maybe. Regret. He was looking at you, like he was trying to see the person you used to be. The person you had been before everything fell apart.

You weren’t that person anymore. And he needed to understand that.

“You don’t get to decide that,” Damian suddenly said, his voice a little too sharp. “You can’t just shut us out like this. You’re still a part of this family. Whether you like it or not.”

Your eyes shot up to meet his. " I can shut you all out, I can do whatever I want” you snapped, the frustration leaking through. “You’ve done it to me for years.”

Dick’s brow furrowed, his lips pulling into a frown. For a second, he looked genuinely taken aback by your words, “You don’t understand,” he said, his tone quieter but still laced with an edge. “We didn’t abandon you. Not on purpose. You think we didn’t care? You just never seemed to need help.”

You could feel the sting of his words, but you pushed it down, locking it away. You weren’t going to break. Not for him. Not for any of them. Of course you never needed help, you were too busy trying to be perfect.

“I was just a kid,” you replied, your voice a little rawer, louder than you intended. “And I was ignored by the people who were supposed to be there for me. So fuck you and fuck your family time too.”

There was a long pause, everyone looked around in shock, not expecting you to be so combatant and then Jason finally spoke up, his tone softer than usual, less teasing. “We’re trying, okay? I'm trying. We’re not perfect, and I’m not asking you to just forget everything. But we want to try. Let us try.”

You shot him a look, your eyes narrowing. “Trying isn’t good enough,” you muttered, your voice tight. “Not when it’s years too late. I don't want scraps of love anymore, not when i've had the real deal.”

Everyone seemed to quiet at the last part of your statement, suspicious of what it meant and from who you received "love" from. What convinced you that you didn't need them anymore?

“Then what do you want?” Tim interjected, his voice suddenly sharper, more direct than before. “What do you want from us? We’re here, and we’re trying to make it right. But you’ve got to meet us halfway.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to tell them that nothing would ever be good enough, that the damage was already done. But you didn’t. Instead, you just stared at Tim, meeting his eyes with a challenge of your own. You didn’t owe them answers. Not anymore.

“I don’t know,” you said finally, your voice quieter now, almost defeated. “I don’t know what I want.”

It was the truth. You didn’t know what you wanted. You didn’t know if there was anything they could do to fix things. But one thing was certain: you didn’t want to stay in this mansion, suffocated by their expectations. You didn’t want to play along with their idea of a happy family.

Before anyone could respond, you stood up abruptly, pushing your chair back with a loud scrape against the floor.

“Don’t worry about me,” you said, turning on your heel. “I’ll figure it out on my own. I always have.”

You heard Duke’s soft voice in the background, calling after you, but you didn’t stop. You just walked out of the dining room, your heart pounding in your chest as you made your way toward the staircase.

As you climbed the stairs, you could feel their eyes on your back, the weight of their presence pressing down on you, but you didn’t care anymore. You didn’t care if they watched. You didn’t care if they were disappointed. You just wanted to be alone.

That day, you stayed in bed. You ignored every knock on your door, every phone call, every beg and plead to come down and eat. You just wanted to be alone.

You woke up to the quiet hum of the manor, but it was far from peaceful. The silence was suffocating, a constant reminder that there was no escaping them—not now. You tried to pretend the night before hadn’t happened, that their constant attention wasn’t as overwhelming as it was, that you were going back to New York soon. Unfortunately, fantasies don't become realities, especially when reality is chasing them down.

Every one of them was here, waiting. Watching.

Bruce stood near the staircase, his presence larger than life. His eyes lingered on you as if he expected something. You weren’t sure what. Maybe gratitude, maybe obedience. He said nothing, just watched you with that expression of silent insistence.

“Good morning,” he said in that deep, calm voice of his, but there was something off about it. There was a layer of expectation beneath his words, like he was waiting for something from you.

You ignored him, brushing past him without a second glance. You didn’t want to engage, didn’t want to pretend like everything was okay. But it didn’t matter. They were all around you now, slowly closing in.

Tim was the next to corner you. You could feel his calculating eyes on you the moment you stepped into the kitchen. He had a cup of coffee in hand, but his focus was on you. Just you.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, the question seemingly casual but the undertone too sharp, too analytical. It wasn’t just a question, it was a probe, a way for him to gauge how much control he had over you.

You rolled your eyes, reaching for the fridge to grab something that could distract you, something that could make the reality of this house feel a little less like a cage. But the moment your hand touched the door, he was there, standing far too close, watching you, almost breathing down your neck.

“You know,” Tim said, his voice low, “we can talk today. If you want. We need to keep your abilities in check, make sure you’re safe, protected. ” His tone lingered on that last word, like he was reminding you that you were under his watch now.

You hated how calmly he said it. It made your skin crawl.

Steph was next, adding onto what Tim said with her stupid signature smile, "He's right y'know. It's dangerous out there. For you especially."

You ignored them both. Payback for their years of negligence.

Tim just stood there for a moment, his eyes scanning your face. “Fine, be like that,” he muttered, before walking away, but you knew he wasn’t done. He never was.

And then there was Dick. His usual cheerful demeanor didn’t falter as he breezed into the room, but it was too cheerful, too bright. He was pushing something, forcing something, like he was trying to manufacture happiness out of thin air, trying to remind you of who you were, who you used to be.

“Hey! How about we do something today?” he said, his voice far too eager. “We could go out and grab coffee, breakfast, anything. I know you’re probably not feeling it, but you need to get out of this house for a bit.”

You wanted tear him apart for thinking you could just “forget” everything and fall back into some comfortable, happy routine. But you didn’t. Instead, you just nodded stiffly, walking past him without acknowledging his words.

“Come on,” he tried again, following you, “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

“Just drop it, Dick,” you said, your voice like ice. “I’m not going anywhere. Ya'll made that pretty clear.”

His face faltered for just a moment before he plastered that damn grin back on. But you saw it, the frustration and determination behind his eyes. He wasn’t going to stop. None of them were.

Jason leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with a smirk you couldn’t quite decipher. “Ah, the princess finally comes out her tower,” he teased. “What? Got tired of throwing shit around in there?"

You narrowed your eyes, feeling the heat in your chest rise. Jason always had a way of pissing you off with his words, making everything seem like a joke, but you knew there was something darker underneath. He wanted to get a rise out of you, he craved it. He wanted you to go back to being his annoying little sister with anger issues.

“Shut up, Jason,” you muttered, turning away from him, not caring that you weren’t hiding your anger anymore. “I’m not in the mood for your bullshit today.”

Jason just laughed, but there was a hint of something softer there, something that felt almost... like concern, buried beneath the sarcasm.

“Stop,” you snapped, but before you could escape, Damian stepped in.

Damian was the most direct, the most unforgiving in his attempts to bond. He stepped into your path without hesitation, his posture rigid and eyes narrowed, as if daring you to push him away.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he said, his voice low, yet intense. “You think you’re some rebellious teenager trying to escape, but you’re not. You don’t get a choice in this.” His words weren’t harsh, they were final, like he had already decided your fate. And you were staying here, whether you liked it or not.

“You’re wrong,” you spat, your voice venomous. "I don’t need you.”

Damian tilted his head slightly, an unsettling calm settling over him. “You’ll need us eventually. Whether you want to or not. And you'll be grateful we never let you go.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you didn’t let him see it. Not yet. His audacity was insane. To think that you'd be thankful for being trapped in Gotham. Never.

As you tried to walk past him, you collided with Cass, who was standing silently behind you, her eyes filled with that knowing, unspoken concern. She's so creepy. She didn’t say a word but you could feel her presence, like a weight pressing down on you.

Cass placed a hand gently on your arm, her touch barely more than a whisper, but it was enough to make you freeze.

Why are they acting like this? What changed these two weeks?

"You’re safe here," she said quietly, her words cutting through the tension in a way that made your skin crawl. It wasn’t a suggestion, it was a command.

You pulled away sharply, nearly punching her, your fists clenched at your sides. “I'm not happy.” you said, more to yourself than to her.

But she didn’t respond. Of course she didn’t. Her eyes just followed you, and that was worse than any words.

Barbara was close by, but she didn’t need to be loud. She never did. She had this way of talking in soft tones that made everything sound so reasonable. So loving.

“You don’t have to keep shutting us out,” she said gently. “You can talk to us. We just want to make sure you’re okay. All of us. We care about you.”

You felt the weight of her words crash down on you, suffocating you with their sweetness, with their hidden demands. Care. It was just another word for control, for keeping you locked in their world, locked in their gaze. If they cared, they would let you be happy in New York.

“Just stop,” you whispered, more to yourself than to her. “Just... stop.”

You sat in your room for hours again, ignoring everyone.

Bruce had spent the last few days carefully watching you, keeping his distance just enough to make you think you had some semblance of freedom, but now he was ready to step in, to claim his role as your father.

He had promised himself when you left for France, he would make it right. That he would make up for everything he had missed, for every moment he had abandoned you for the greater good of Gotham. But now, as the silence stretched between you two, he was determined to close that distance.

You had just returned to your room after another breakfast you didn’t want to be part of when you heard the knock.

It was Bruce.

“You’re not busy, are you?” he asked, his voice almost too warm, too hopeful.

You shot him a glance, wondering if he truly thought this would work. After everything that had happened, after all the times he had failed you, he still thought a few “father-daughter” moments could make things better.

"I guess not," you replied flatly, stepping aside to let him in, your mind already racing with how to get through whatever this was going to be.

The moment he entered, Bruce seemed to settle, as though he had a plan in mind, one he was eager to execute.

“Good,” he said, looking around the room, his eyes scanning for something, maybe an opportunity. Then, he turned back to you, hands clasped behind his back. “I thought today, we could spend some time together. Just us. It’s been a while since we’ve done something like this, hasn’t it? School starts soon and you'll get busy, you won't have time for me anymore.”

He was trying to joke around.

School. More like prison. The more he mentioned school, the angrier you got. You'd never done something like this. He did it with all his other kids though, with Tiffany. As you thought of her, all ideas of being nice to Bruce, of trying to bond with your father, flew out the window.

The words felt like a slap, and you couldn’t keep the bite from your tone. “Is that what you think this is? Quality time? You really think we’re just gonna pick up where we left off? Think you can change the past with brunch?”

Bruce’s eyes softened for a moment, his expression cracking, but only slightly. The guilt was there, unmistakable, but it didn’t erase the unspoken expectation behind his words. His voice became more gentle, more insistent.

“I know it’s not easy,” he said, his voice steady but laced with something else—something almost pleading, though he would never admit it. “But I want to make this right. You deserve this. You deserve... me. We can go out, maybe catch a movie, grab lunch, talk, whatever you want. I just want to be with you. Like you always talked about.”

You didn’t respond immediately. For a moment, you just stood there, frozen, as the weight of his words crashed over you. It was nice watching him beg for once. You had always wanted this. Wanted him. Wanted him to be a father, to care for you like he did the others. But that was before you tasted freedom, before you tried love.

Now, the idea of spending time with him felt like a betrayal to everything you had tried to protect: your own independence, your own space, your freedom. You didn’t want to be a part of his perfect little family anymore.

“No.” you muttered, unable to stop the anger from flooding your chest. “You really think that’s going to fix things? You think I just forgot what you did? Because i'm nice sometimes?”

Bruce didn’t flinch at your words, didn’t even show any sign of anger. Instead, he just stepped closer, his presence filling up the room, looming over you like an impenetrable wall. His tone remained patient, almost too controlled, like he was walking on eggshells.

“I know I can’t undo the past,” he said quietly, a trace of regret slipping through. “But I can be here for you now. I won’t make the same mistakes. I promise.”

A cold laugh escaped your lips. “You already have.”

You could feel your pulse quicken, the anger bubbling up inside you, but you pushed it back. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you break.

Bruce’s eyes softened even further, the guilt twisting in his expression, and for a moment, you saw something else there—desperation. As if he was begging you to let him in, to give him just one chance to prove he wasn’t the same person who had abandoned you for years.

“We could just sit and talk,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “No expectations. No agenda. Just us. I’m not trying to fix you or make everything perfect. I just want to spend time with my daughter.”

Something in you snapped at the mention of daughter. The word that had haunted you for years. The word that had felt like a lie every time he used it. You clenched your fists, struggling to keep your composure.

“No,” you said, your voice flat, cutting through the tension like a knife. “You don’t get it. I don’t want this anymore. I don't want you anymore.”

Bruce’s face faltered, just for a moment, before he recovered. But the hurt was there, tucked in the corners of his eyes. “I'm sorry. I hope you know that.”

You shook your head, not wanting to hear it anymore. The damage was done. He couldn’t erase it. No amount of “father-daughter time” was going to make you forget what it had been like when he wasn’t there for you.

“Stop,” you snapped, taking a step back. “Just stop. You don’t get to do this, Bruce. You don’t get to waltz in here and act like everything is fine. Like everything’s fixed. You’ve ruined it. All of it.”

Bruce opened his mouth, but no words came. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle to understand where it had gone wrong.

“I’m just trying to make up for it,” he said quietly, but the sound of it made your stomach churn. The way his voice cracked slightly at the end of the sentence only made it worse.

And you hated yourself for feeling even a little guilty for saying no.

But no. You wouldn’t let him do this. Not again.

“I don’t want your apologies,” you spat, your tone sharp, venomous. “And I don’t want your ‘time.’ You don’t get to play the father now.”

Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and walked toward the door. You needed to escape. You needed space. You needed to breathe. You were leaving your own room to get away from him.

Bruce’s voice stopped you, and you felt the pull of his desperate plea in the back of your mind. His words clung to you, too heavy, too much. “I'll go, don't leave. This is your room. I just want you to know I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

You watched your father walk away, and only after he left did you fall to your bed and cry.

The next days before school were a blur. You spent them locked in your room, alternating between crying on the phone with Ariel, avoiding the family when you went down to sneak food to your room, trying to butter up Bruce and convince him to let you go back to boarding school, and online shopping.

Yet somehow Monday morning you were up at 5:30 getting into the shower.

The thought of returning to Gotham Prep made your stomach churn. How could you go back to a place where you had no true friends? A school where you’d been bullied by half your grade. Where Tim pretended you didn’t exist, Damian and Tiffany ridiculed you in front of everyone, and Duke ignored you like you were invisible. Where you ate lunch in the bathroom, alone and cried in the janitor's closet like a loser.

But you weren't the same girl who walked through those halls last year. No, this year was going to be different. You were different.

Last night, as you scrolled through Tik Tok, a new idea formed in your mind. You’d had enough of being invisible. It was time for a change.

You had a plan.

You found the bleach blonde hair dye in your bathroom, hidden away in the back of a drawer. You didn’t need permission, and you certainly didn’t need anyone to hold your hand.

By the time the dye had set and you’d rinsed it out, you felt like a new person. It was the kind of hair that would make people stop and stare.

You woke at 5:30 and hopped in the shower, you wanted to take your time getting ready. You plugged in your pink dyson and curled your new blonde hair, it would fall into a blow out later in the day, complaining about your family to Ariel and Claire. You spent the next two hours getting ready, perfecting your makeup. You’d learned to contour, learned to do your eyeliner just right, and became a bronzer girl over the summer. You grabbed your favorite Chanel palette and messily applied dark eyeshadow in smoky charcoal, blending seamlessly into the crease of your eyes and eyeliner. You smudged on a bold dark burgundy lipshine that drew attention. You weren’t trying to be anyone but yourself, your new self.

Then came the clothes.

You'd already shortened your Gotham Prep skirt by more than a few inches. It was below your knees and now it showed off the thighs you spent all summer tanning. You wanted to make a statement, and if they didn’t like it, that was their problem. The white blouse, originally oversized, was now form-fitting, you wanted it to give that one Bella Hadid picture. You left the top buttons undone, the tie hanging loosely around your neck in a deliberate, I-don’t-care gesture. You could feel the fabric clinging to your skin, reminding you of how much control you were regaining. You looked like the kind of girls you used to call whores last year.

You looked through your drawers for your signature jewelry you collected over the summer and during school. Big gold hoops on your ears, studs in all your other ear piercings, a tiffany heart necklace that rested on your exposed collar bone, and multiple bracelets stacked on each arm, jingling as you moved.

As you stood in front of the mirror, you smiled. You looked good.

Lastly you grabbed your Isabel Marant sneakers, chic and effortless, and slipped them on. They were expensive, but it wasn’t about the price—it was about the look. The vibe. Then, more than few spritzes of perfume. Something sharp, and not too sweet. You wanted to make a lasting impression, to turn heads as you walked.

By the time you were done, you felt invincible. The girl staring back at you was someone who didn’t care what anyone thought. You weren’t going to be bullied anymore. You were going to be the one who dictated the terms.

You walked out of your room, head held high, your heart pounding with anticipation.

Downstairs, the Batfamily was gathered at the breakfast table, doing their usual routine. They all stopped talking the second they saw you.

You’d barely stepped into the room when the heavy silence fell over the table. Bruce looked up, his expression instantly darkening. His lips pressed together in a thin line, his gaze flicking over your appearance.

“Is this what you're wearing?” His voice was tight, a hint of disapproval slipping into the words.

You gave him a look that said everything. “Is something wrong? I thought it was cute.” Your tone was soft, teasing, but with a bite underneath. You weren’t asking for his permission. You were daring him to say something.

Tim, who had been looking at his phone, blinked up at you with wide eyes. He’d been so engrossed in whatever he was reading that he didn’t even seem to know how to respond. His fingers hovered over his screen, unsure whether or not to comment.

“Are you seriously going to school looking like that?” His voice was tight, an edge of surprise and confusion beneath it.

You crossed your arms, leaning back in the doorway. “What? You don’t like it? Your friends might.” You knew how to unsettle him. That much you were sure of. You wanted to push his buttons, make him paranoid.

Dick was the next to react. He put down his coffee, glancing over at Bruce before looking back at you. “I get that you’re, you know, trying something new,” he began carefully, but the unease in his voice was clear. He was trying to be supportive, trying to understand, but it didn’t take much to see how disapproving he felt. “But—”

“But what, Dick?” you interrupted with a sudden change of attitude. “You don’t like it? That’s a shame. It's so crazy I literally never asked.”

His mouth opened, but no words came out. He simply shifted in his seat, uncomfortable.

Jason snorted, clearly not impressed. “You trying to turn heads or get yourself in trouble? Skirt's too short, change that shit.” His voice was low, but it had a sharpness to it now. His gaze scanned you from head to toe, his mouth curving into an almost imperceptible frown.

You weren’t fazed by his dismissive and angry attitude. If anything, it made you want to lean into it more. “I'm not changing, you want alonger skirt? You go put one on and come talk.” You shrugged nonchalantly, your tone saccharine sweet. "And I don't want trouble, but i don't mind it."

“Yeah, I can tell,” Jason drawled, eyeing the large hoops dangling from your ears. “Nice hoops. Real classy.” His lips twitched, mocking the exaggerated size of them. "I didn’t realize big was your thing now."

You smirked, reaching up to tug at one of the hoops, the gesture playful, but intending to piss him off. “Big boys like big things, Jason,” you replied smoothly, without missing a beat. “And you know what they say, the bigger the hoop, the bigger the....” You were quickly cut off before you could finish talking and ruining everyone's apittite.

Damian, ever the hater, set down his cereal with a dramatic flare, slamming it down and glared at you. “You look like you belong in a cheap nightclub, not Gotham Prep. Should we drop you off on the nearest corner?” His words were sharp, cutting—typical Damian, though you could hear the pure anger in his voice.

You chuckled softly, not phased in the slightest. You'd rather be at a cheap nightclub honestly. “I’m just bringing a little fun to Gotham, Damian. You should try it sometime, maybe then you wouldn't be so hateful all the time." Your tone was uninterested, like his insults weren't even worth your time.

Steph and Cass exchanged a look, both clearly unsure of how to react. Cass, as always, seemed more interested in watching you than engaging, while Steph’s gaze flickered between you and the rest of the family. Barbra was just staring at you in disbelief.

“Is it really that bad?” Steph finally asked, though her voice wasn’t quite as gentle as it could have been. There was a nervous edge to it. “I mean, you’re, uh, pulling it off…” She trailed off, clearly unsure how to proceed.

You ignored her, who cares what she thinks? Her and the rest of them are irrelevant. If you like it then so what. Her comment did make your lips twitch into a smile subconsciously though.

Alfred, who’d been quietly observing the exchange, cleared his throat before standing. “Miss, I must say, it’s a rather bold change. But perhaps not one that will be received well by the staff and teachers.” His words were polite, but you could hear the disapproval in the undertones.

You gave him a bright smile, not at all sorry. “I’ll take my chances, Alfred. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I've played this game before.”

Bruce, who had been seething quietly, finally stood up from the table. His usual calm demeanor was replaced with a tense frustration. “Go change. Now.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curving into a slow, deliberate smile. “Make me.”

There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, then something else, something more. He clenched his fists for a moment, clearly fighting to maintain control. But you weren’t backing down. Not this time.

“I’m not going to let you walk out of here like that,” Bruce snapped.

You didn’t miss a beat. “You won't let me do anything. I go to school like this or I don't go at all. And since when do you care?” You crossed your arms and stuck your foot out, pouting like a child, staring him down waiting for him to surrender.

Bruce hesitated for a moment, his expression softening ever slightly. “Fine. But you’re pushing it. You're not going like this tomorrow.”

Bruce 0, You 1.

Jason, who had been watching the exchange with interest, chuckled. “You really know how to work him, don’t you?”

You flashed a smile at him, leaning back in your chair as you stood up and grabbed your bag, ready to leave the room. “Come on, let’s get out of here. We're already late. Jason, you driving?” Jason was the most fun, and he wasn't as nosy as Dick or Barbra.

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I’m driving us all today. Come on, let’s go before Dad starts pulling rank.”

With a dramatic sigh, Bruce reluctantly agreed, shooting a last, disapproving look at your outfit before turning toward the door.

The engine of Jason’s car hummed steadily, but the air inside was anything but calm. You had decided to make this ride your moment. If you were uncomfy, you'd make them all feel the same. The others in the car—Damian, Tim, and Duke—were bracing themselves for your usual attitude, though this time you could tell there was a noticeable edge to the tension.

Jason, who was driving, was trying his best to keep his eyes on the road, but you knew he was glaring at you through the rearview mirror. Damian was next to you in the backseat, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, like he was ready to throw down at any second. Tim sat on the other side, buried in his homework, something to do with Gotham Prep’s ever-pressing academic requirements. Nerd.

And Duke? Duke was the least bothered, but you were sure he was mentally rolling his eyes at you the moment you stepped into the car.

You were far too busy with your phone, flipping through TikTok videos and checking your DMs, but every so often, you’d glance at the boys just to see their reactions.

“So…” You leaned forward a little, propping your elbow on the middle console. Your voice was light, casual, but you could feel the energy shift around you. You knew this would get under Jason’s skin. “You think any of the boys at Gotham Prep will notice my glow up? ”

You heard a long, heavy sigh from the driver’s seat before Jason muttered, “She's in that phase huh,"

But you weren’t listening. You were too busy smirking at Tim, who barely looked up from his book. You could feel his eyes narrow, probably out of sheer annoyance. “I mean, it’s inevitable, right?” you continued. “I'm 16 now, I'm better looking. Is there any fresh meat since I left? Anyone interesting, new friends maybe??"

Jason was silent for a moment, but you could see the grip on the steering wheel tightening in his peripheral. He wasn’t going to let you get away with this.

"Listen," Jason said, his voice calm but with that sharp edge he always used when he was trying not to lose his temper. "I don’t want to hear about boys, okay? Not today, not ever."

You blinked dramatically, as if you were the one being attacked. “Oh, come on, Jason, don’t be such a buzzkill. I’m not doing anything. I just wanna know if anyone’s looking.” You reached forward and pressed the button to connect your phone to the car’s Bluetooth, your nails clicking loudly across the screen as you searched for the perfect song to add to the atmosphere.

You knew you were getting to him. Jason was always so serious when it came to boys, always so guarded, especially when it came to you. It was fun getting under his skin. He glanced over his shoulder at you, but you were already half-distracted by your phone.

“Relax, Jase,” you shot back, ignoring his glare. “I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m just curious. It’s just—boys.”

You needed something to stop the ache that came with your new powers.

“Don’t make me pull this car over,” Jason threatened, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror again.

You laughed softly, loving how easily you could provoke him. You leaned back in your seat, stretching out your legs, and noticed Damian watching you like he was deciding whether to strangle you with his own scarf.

“Damian, you’re so serious,” you sigh, you'd been ignoring him lately but you forgot how easy he is to provoke. “You know, you should loosen up. Boys are fun to look at, and to—” You cut yourself off before you could finish the sentence, letting the tension simmer.

Damian’s face twisted in that way he did when he was trying to pretend you didn’t bother him. “I don’t care what you do with boys,” he muttered. “But if you think I’m going to sit in this car while you talk about them like you’re some kind of—”

“Oh, no,” you interrupted with a teasing smile, “Not some kind of what? Some kind of what?” You stretched your legs a little further, drawing more attention to the hem of your skirt as you adjusted yourself in your seat. Making it even shorter now that Bruce wasn't here. You felt the eyes of your brothers boring into you, especially Jason's. “Honestly, Damian, lighten up. If you stopped being such a little grumpy loser all the time, you’d get more attention from girls. You have my looks y'know. ”

Tim, who had been pretending to focus on his homework this whole time, finally looked up from his papers with an exasperated sigh. “Can you not?” he asked, voice strained. “We’ve got school in twenty minutes. We don’t need a whole lecture about boys in the car.”

“Hey, no need to be so dramatic, Tim,” you said, turning your attention to your phone. You found your favorite song, the one that was guaranteed to annoy everyone in the car. “I’m just having fun. It’s not like I’m gonna do anything crazy. I just wanna know who’s gonna be there today."

You were making them all uncomfortable, and you loved it. You could already see Damian’s jaw tightening in the rearview mirror and Jason’s knuckles whitening around the steering wheel. Tim was staring at you like you were a whole new level of annoying. Even Duke rolled his eyes.

But that wasn’t enough. You needed them to be seething.

“I’m telling you right now,” Jason warned, his voice dead serious, “no boys today. No messing around. You’re going to class, and you’re staying focused. I'll check your phone if I have to. Got it?”

You put on your best innocent face, looking up from your phone as if you hadn’t just been causing a small riot in the car. “Okay, okay, Jason. No boys. I'm more into men anyway.”

Damian scoffed again, muttering something about how “pathetic” it was. You just grinned and rolled your eyes.

“Hey, you’re just jealous because girls don’t look at you,” you said, winking at him. “Maybe if you weren’t such a pain in the ass, you’d get noticed more.”

Duke, who had been quietly observing the entire conversation, finally spoke up from the backseat, his tone easygoing but with a hint of amusement. “You got any tips for me? Am I chopped liver”

You rolled your eyes at him, still not over his betrayal. “Glad you’re entertained, Duke. I don't think even I could help you.”

As you said that, you grabbed the aux cord and plugged it into your phone without asking.

Jason let out a sharp sigh, but you just grinned. “I’ve got it from here,” you said as you clicked on Drake’s Hotline Bling. The song blasted as you maxed out the volume. Damian looked like he was about to combust.

“You really are a pain in the ass, aren’t you?” Tim muttered under his breath, trying to focus on his schoolwork again.

You grinned. “I like to think of myself as entertaining.”

Duke nodded his head to the beat, tapping on his phone and Jason’s eyes darted to the rearview mirror, but you could see the playfulness in his face. He was trying not to smile, despite himself.

“I’m just saying, no boys today, no skipping, no trouble” Jason reiterated, trying to keep a semblance of control. “And if I hear anything about you messing around, we’re going back home, got it?”

You leaned back in your seat and stretched again. “Sure, sure, no boys. But just so you know, if i get into "trouble" it’s not my fault.”

Jason didn’t respond.

When you finally arrived at Gotham Prep you sighed, grabbed your bag, straightened out your skirt one last time, and nearly ran away from them so you didn't have to walk in with Duke, Damian, and Tim. “See you later, losers,” you said with a grin, pulling your sunglasses on as you walked away from the car.

Gotham Prep didn't know what's coming.

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#yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere batman #yandere jason todd #yandere damian wayne #yandere tim drake #yandere bruce wayne #yandere x reader #yandere bruce wayne x reader #yandere dick grayson

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lockandkeyblade · 2 days ago

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Yanno what I don't even go to Batman but we're gonna give this a roll. ----------------------------------------------- If you'd asked him back when the idea first came to mind, Danny would politely attest that staking out the Batcave for a meme probably doesn't even rank in the top five stupidest things he's ever done. Number one will always remain stepping into a defunct machine and blindly feeling up the walls.

Number two has a habit of changing, depending on whatever the most recent comment to leave his mouth without thinking is. Letting his mouth vomit out the unthinkable has a bad habit of launching Sam and Tucker at each other's throats, or someone half as scary at him. Three to five also alternate, from Pariah Dark, to the events that would've lead him straight to Dan, to accepting his Kingly duties, whenever those reared their ugly heads.

Of course, that's when the idea first comes to mind.

By the time Phantom actually finds the Batcave, it's at least in the top ten. Because the Batcave can't be hidden beneath an abandoned building, or a Fortune 500 office. No. It just so happens to be smack bang in the middle of a series of complex (and partially man made) tunnels beneath the Wayne Estate, New Jersey. And if that doesn't clue him into potentially knowing the identity of one of the most terrifying superheroes of all time, then his brain was officially dead.

Just like the other 50% of him will be, if it ever crosses Batman's mind that a seemingly meta vigilante from buttfuck nowhere Minnesota likely knows his civilian identity. Which is almost, almost enough to scare him off the mission entirely.

Except he has to do it. He has to. For the Vine.

Forget that Vine is a long lost art. Forget that TikTok is an endless pit of nightmarish content that even Technus seemed reluctant to go near. His follower count may be at a measly 103, but they're his followers. They deserve this.

So an idea spawned after nearly two days without sleep and far too many shots of espresso sprawls into a several week long covert operation... after he finds the Batcave.

Because the cave should be renamed Bathive, with all the activity constantly going on in it. If it's not Batman, it's Robin. Or Nightwing. Red Robin. BlackBat.

And just the once, Red Hood, who stopped and stared at the space where Phantom was hovering near the ceiling with a green reflectiveness in his eyes that had the ghost-teen waving his hands in front of his own face, just to ensure he was still invisible. There'd been something off in that reaction, something uncomfortably familiar.

If he hadn't already been certain that the Bats all had a little exposure to the Infinite Realms, that still would have confirmed it. Not that it matters.

What matters is the lack of opportunity to do what no halfa has done before. No matter when he staked it out, day and night, there was always someone there. Once the initial rush of being in the BATCAVE had worn off, the entire exercise became a little dull, Danny had to admit. Especially when he was doing his utmost not to listen to any sensitive conversations that might be happening 10 feet below him at any given time.

It takes a mass breakout from Arkham Asylum for him to finally get five minutes alone with the Batcomputer, three seconds to type in the address for Archive of Our own, seven seconds to snap a photo-- and five seconds to set off the alarm.

He flies out of there like a bat (ha!) out of hell, prize clutched firmly in his hands. Adrenalin, a chronic lack of sleep, and several more espressos on the flight back home make the question of post, or not to post, an absolute breeze to answer.

He shares the video with his feed, accompanied by the prerequisite background music, and promptly crashes out for twelve hours straight. His last thoughts are happy, drunken little daydreams that his 103 followers will all like it.

They do like it, in fact. They like it very much.

And so do 1,394,576 other people. And counting.

Now it's in the top five stupidest things he's ever done.

Danny goes all the way to Gotham, finds the Batcave, stalks the bats long enough to figure out the passcode to the Batcomputer.

Just to do the "If there's a screen A03 will be seen." trend on Tiktok, not expecting it to blow up as big as it did.

How was he supposed to expect anything else? He was chronically unpopular for a hero, most of his tiktoks only got a solid 100 likes, entirely from the teenagers in Amity who were fans of him (something about him looking photoshopped or like AI?)

While Phantom and therefore Amity Park is under a microscope, a smart thing to do would be to lay low or cooperate with the heroes to show he's not a threat.

Instead, he posts a follow-up tiktok from The Watchtower

#dpxdc #ironically it's 3am over here too so sleep deprived acts of tomfoolery is relevant to my interests #he panics for maybe 6 hours before deciding that if he's already doomed he may as well Go For Gold #the real question is who is more unimpressed: Bruce or Jazz

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cheyisagirlkisser · 2 days ago

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Please could you do a small one shot or headcannon for sevika... soft degradation with love behind it NSFW pleaseeee I need this in my life 😭😭

my nsfw thoughts on sevika

warnings: 18+ content, mentions of different sexual activities and positions, dom! sevika/sub reader dynamic, spankings & pain-play, hair-pulling, soft degradation, shower sex, strap-on oral, and petnames (good girl, Sevika refers to herself as daddy idc it’s my headcannon!)

⋅ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sevika whose favorite position is missionary. Many would say it's boring for a favorite, but Sevika? It's an easy excuse to get the chance to kiss you while she's inside you. She will be on top of you with either her fingers deep in your cunt, letting them squeeze around her like a vice, or forcing your legs wide apart so she can fit her wide hips between them to fuck you with a strap-on. No matter what though, you're gonna have a mouth full of her. It may be soft, sweet kisses that you get when she feels loving with you, her lips taking yours tenderly. However, sometimes when you're both moaning all messily and on the edge of orgasms, she'll find herself harshly shoving her tongue in your mouth, often having to pull away to breathe. In those moments, you hear words that make your pussy clench around her.

"You love getting fucked like this, hm? When I fuck this pussy 'till you feel it in your throat?"

⋅ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sevika who is the type to prefer the strap in favor of scissoring, fingering, and pussy eating. Not to say she won't do foreplay! Sevika eating pussy is another topic for a headcannon below, but her with a strap? She likes being able to have her power over your with her entire body. Feeling your pussy against hers is nice, but there is a certain degree of control that comes with fucking you. She can feel it, but it isn't as messy or as overwhelming. For her, at least. You're feeling her in a way that makes your legs shake and your voice turn raw, while she can stay fucking you above you, able to tease and taunt you.

⋅ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sevika who is a soft sadist. She doesn't enjoy laughing while spanking you or using a flogger or whatever method you're into. She likes watching you struggle with the pleasure combined, too. Imagine bent over her lap, your face buried into the bed as you pathetically cry. Sevika doesn't spank you harder or tell you to count, no. She'll be sweet about it for a bit, make you feel good and loved. Lean down and coo soft comforts in your ear and make you feel like you're off the hook. You're not, though. The moment you confirm that you're still okay, you get another hit on your ass that leaves you instantaneously crying out and cumming. Same with hair-pulling, too. Sevika is a huge hair puller. She likes forcing you to face her either by grabbing your chin(imagine the way she did with Vi during the fight in season one!!), or gathering your hair in a ponytail just to lovingly yank it. It makes her own pussy throb to listen to the surprise in your tone when she does it.

⋅ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sevika who, when she has sex, has to have long sessions. Doesn't settle for quickies, unless it's cannon-world Sevika who would probably enjoy getting the stress eased with a quick fuck. Brothel Sevika would probably be in and out to cum or to fuck one of the girls, but when you're her girl, she will spend hours making you cum. She loves foreplay, saying it's necessary to "prep you for her cock." You will probably cum at least once or twice on with a tongue warming up your clit or her middle finger teasing your g-spot, but try not to lose your voice screaming and lose your energy thrashing, because the main event will last until Sevika physically can't fuck you anymore. Breaks included.

⋅ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sevika who is a pussy-eating enthusiast. Her method isn't Vi or Caitlyn's would be. Vi would probably flick her tongue a lot and Caitlyn would be giving proper ice-cream licks, but Sevika makes it intimate with taking her time. She's in no rush with foreplay, so why not spend a while just teasing around your clit? Why not savor the taste of your wet pussy lips, even dipping her tongue into your hole? Watching you squirm under her mouth, bucking up to get direct contact but failing. She sometimes even finds herself laughing against your pussy, not intending to cause vibrations through you but does anyway. Best believe after the teasing is up that she will not stop fucking you with her nose and mouth until you're begging for mercy.

⋅ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sevika who loves to degrade. She doesn't outright call you a slut, but (consensually) makes comments when you wear lingerie that make you feel the best type of shame. She likes calling out brats, too. She won't hesitate to put you in your place in the most gentle way possible. Sevika is definitely a huge condescending degrader, too. She'll insult you for acting dumb when she fucks you, letting you know how pathetic you are for the bit of drool on your lips from her dick impaling you, and nearly laughing into your ear when you whimper her name like a dog in heat when the tip of the silicone kisses your cervix.

⋅ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sevika who loves shower sex. Having you pressed up against steamy glass, lathering soap all over your back to stall. She loves taking her time, running water down your back to add to the sensations until you’re begging her to fuck you. Then, she’ll bend you over and just simply tease you. Her fingers will slide between your folds, just separating them and collecting the slick that increases there. When she can tell that you can’t take anymore, then she will drop to her knees and eat your pussy out from the back. If she’s had a rough day and you allow her to take her stress out on you, she will fuck you with her thick fingers while the shower water falls onto the both of you, letting out various curses.

“Shh, be a good girl and take my fingers. Maybe I’ll let you choke on my dick after if you listen. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

⋅ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sevika who is a lover of both traditional head and strap head. She likes to watch your lips wrap around the tip of her fake dick, adore how you take as much as you can of the length into your mouth. She can’t feel it, but if she sees you using teeth she’ll use it to degrade you.

“Nuh-uh, you know better. I know you’re better at sucking dick than that. C’mon. Be a good girl and suck daddy’s cock right, don’t you wanna make me cum?”

But halfway through, she just gets so turned on that she rips the harness off, letting your eager (and very slutty) mouth taste her pussy. You love sucking her strap, but her real taste is unbeatable. Her body tenses and her breathing grows heavy above you, nodding slightly when you lap at her clit in earnest. She still guides you through it, but just know that your reward for after is getting to ride her face, so every slightly mean instruction is worth it. You like being bossed around by Sevika, anyways.

#requests #sevika x fem!reader #sevika x reader #sevika arcane #arcane sevika #sevika #arcane #arcane smut #arcane x reader

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sesmiq · 2 days ago

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a night to remember Underneath the sheets, you enchanted me And whispered sweet nothings in my ear ‧₊˚🖇️ pairing: bottom male reader x secret one night stand ⤹warning: mister/sir kink ?, y/n being bratty,, soft/gentle sex, v vanilla, drunk reader, no condom D: (be safe aa), blowjob (receiving), fingering (receiving), door>table sex,,, aftercare!! always have aftercare ,, age gap(reader/y.n 21, one night stand 32) rlly rushed in general, not proof read, if this flop ill simply explode (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ word count: 3.3k

today was a shitty day. for y/n, at least, it started when his brand new shoes, in the worst color possibly, white- getting completely ruined when he stepped into dog’s poo. then, he checked his grades on his phone, only to see a big red F. on the class he needed to pass in order to graduate. the reason? one of his groupmate didnt do their part, even worse- they dont even attend the class! and now, because of that person, y/n wasnt going to graduate on time. y/n asked his other teammate who was the one that didnt do their part, he made sure to write down their name into his note app to (maybe) beat them up one day,, just when he thought his day couldnt get worse, he was on his way to his part time job before getting a text from his boyfriend. the message was short, a simple, “lets breakup.” he read the text over and over again, his boyfriend of 2 years- ending things without even a word of explanation, over text at that. y/n didnt go to his part time job that day, asking for a sick leave from his manager. his friends noticed that he looked down, then dragged him to a bar to distract him from whatever was in his head. shots. beer. loud music.. y/n drank everything his friend poured him as he listened to the other’s rant about how can his boyfriend just dump y/n like that. he just wanted to forget. after a few drinks in, feeling a little tipsy, y/n told his friends that hes gonna step out for a smoke and maybe fresh air. he leaned against the cold brick wall, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag as he tried to calm his racing thoughts. ..its cold. maybe he shouldve borrowed his friend’s coat, He exhaled, watching the smoke curl up into the dark sky, when something warm and heavy draped over his shoulders. “??” he blinked, turning his head. Ah, this guy is handsome, he thought to himself, the stranger stood beside him, he looked like he's a few years older than y/n (maybe around his early 30s, he thinks.) , with messy dark hair, piercing black eyes and only wearing a black turtleneck with slacks. “youre shivering.” the man said, voice low and smooth, y/n glanced down at the coat, then back up at the man “‘m fine.” he slurred his words, swaying on his feet like hes gonna fall any moment. the guy huffed out a quiet laugh, “you sure?” “..’m not that drunk.” “mhm.”

“what are you? my mom?” the guy let out a breath that was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, “go back in, you’re gonna freeze.” “dont wanna.” “dont be stubborn.” he huffed. “I’m not-” y/n stopped, blinking, as the words caught up with him. “..you’re annoying.” on impulse, y/n yank him forward, grabbing the front of the guy’s collar, pulling him down his height and then his mouth was on his. it wasn’t graceful. hell, it wasn’t even all that romantic. just messy. sloppy. drunken. but the guy kissed back. like hes not going anywhere. y/n wasnt sure how theyd get from the bar to an apartment? or motel, he couldnt tell. the door clicked shut behind and he barely caught it before nearly tripping over if it werent for the other’s steadying him by the waist. “you alright?” the man murmured, before he could say anything, he was pushed against the door, the man covering the back of head with his hand, his back hitting the wood with a soft thud, and then the guy’s lips were on his before pulling away, “you talk too much.” y/n groaned, alcohol still buzzing through his system. he stared back at the stranger, before asking, “whats your name?”

the man paused for a second before tilting his head to the side, as if thinking what to say, he leaned in- just a little closer to touch his forehead with y/n’s,

“does it matter?” he murmured. y/n shouldve said yes, but instead, he pulled the stranger in for a kiss. before he could pull away, the guy already had his hands underneath y/n’s shirt, the sudden warmth against his cold skin sent an immediate jolt through him.

the man's lips left his for a brief second, the man's mouth moved to y/n’s neck, lips hot against his skin, sucking and biting just enough to leave a mark.

“m-mister..”

upon hearing this, the other raised an eyebrow, eyes flashing with amusement. “mister?” he repeated,

y/n only shrugged, before tugging at the man’s shirt once again, as if wanting it off. “mm.”

the man’s hands slid lower, teasing the waistband of his pants, then pulling him closer again, grinding against him in a way that made y/n gasp.

y/n’s hands, impatient and shaky, pushed at the other’s shirt again. “off,” he mumbled, tugging at it.

“eager much?” the man dropped onto his knees, taking off his own shirt before throwing it somewhere in the room.

y/n's breath hitched when the man dropped to his knee, staring politely at the other’s body.

hands firm on his thighs, pressing them apart just enough to show the man his hardening weewee, his fingers tugged at y/n’s waistband once again, tugging it off along with his boxer.

y/n face flushed, his member standing proudly, feeling shy, he meekly hid his crotch from the other man.

“perv.”

the man laugh, before forcefully pulling apart y/n’s thigh. he lightly caresses y/n’s inner thigh, while his other hand strokes the younger’s member,

y/n let out a whine when the man swallowed his length in one go, he immediately covered his mouth with both his palm, stifling any whines that would come out.

gently, he started bobbing his head up and down while grabbing a small bottle of lube from his pocket pants.

y/n noticed the lube, it was almost sweet, like he was handling something fragile. he let out a breathless laugh, “hah, you were really prepared for this?” he murmured, eyes half lidded as the man continued on sucking him and pours the lube into his hand. “i guess you really are a perv.”

the man sighed around y/n’s length, he brought up his hand towards the younger’s entrance, teasingly circling two of his fingers around it.

y/n shivered at the cold feeling against his rim, he was starting to get impatient, “just—” his words suddenly cut off into a whine as the tip of the man’s fingers slid in.

the older of the two hummed, sending vibrations to y/n’s member. he let out another whine when the man curled his fingers, pressing against a spot that had y/n arching his back,

y/n lightly hits the man’s shoulder when he pulled off his member, giving it a small kiss on the leaking tip,

with his head thrown towards the door, y/n covered his mouth with his palm once again, hoping nobody can hear them outside the door. flush spread around his chest, barely hidden from his low neck hoodie.

“feeling shy now?” the older teased, rising from his knees, he grabbed one of y/n’s thigh and hooked it around his waist, fingers still pressed deep onto that one spot, twisting his finger just to hear y/n sigh.

y/n scoffed, hiding his face in the man’s shoulder before letting out a muffled moan, his hand never stopped massaging y/n’s prostate.

when the man pulled his finger out, the younger one let out a huff as if in annoyance, before he could let out another snarky remark, he felt something stiff and warm under him.

glancing down, he noticed the man’s breath growing heavier and heavier, he moved his hips, the tip of his.. weapon? prodding against y/n’s hole.

he paused at the sight ‘thats going in me?’ was the only thing he could think at the moment, the man noticed y/n’s stare, nuzzling into the younger’s shoulder, “im getting impatient.” he murmured, his voice low and raspy as he gripped onto y/n’s waist.

“really?” y/n laughed, wrapping his arm around the man’s neck so he doesnt fall. the man’s breath hitched, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips,

“yeah,”

the man lines himself up against y/n’s, him kindly enough had poured a generous amount onto his length, before slowly pushing himself in.

y/n yelped, while he did have experience, its been a while he had taken anything like the man’s size.

he took his time, moving slowly, one of his hand gripping y/n’s leg, one gentle hand strokes y/n’s back, circling around his back, his movement slow, as if he werent going anywhere.

pressing a soft skin to y/n’s neck, he slowly pushes his length inside inch by inch, taking note of how y/n whine or gasps.

the man grunted when he finally fit his entire length in that tight warmth, he noticed how quiet y/n have been (besides letting out a few whines here and there), concerned, he placed y/n on the nearby table.

he pulled back just enough to check on him, “still with me?” he muttered, brushing a hand though y/n’s hair, though, all he got was a, “mhmm..”

y/n’s face was still buried in his neck, his lips parted slightly as he lets out small, breathless whine, his arms still hung around the man’s shoulder,

the man let out a low curse, yet he gently cupped y/n’s jaw to take a look at his face-, y/n’s eyes were half-lidded, unfocused and dazed (?)

he was about to pull out, thinking maybe the alcohol had made y/n tired, he can just jerk himself off later.. but before he could, he felt something wrapped around his waist, as if not wanting him to go,

“mister..” y/n, still clearly out of it, voice was barely above a whisper surprising the older, “whyd you stop?”

the mans heart skipped a beat, something about y/n’s expression, how his face flushed and how y/n wrapped his legs around the man so he wouldnt go.

he let out a small smile, clearly caught off guard yet amused, the younger one could be so cute when hes isnt letting out sarcastic remarks— but even if he does, the man wouldve still found it cute anyway. “i told you,” he chuckled softly, “im not going anywhere.”

the man chuckled again, he cupped y/n’s face gently, tilting his head to meet his gaze, “i-”

“stop talking and keep moving.” y/n muttered, giving the man a lazy smile.

oh..

slightly amused, the man let out a laugh, his fingers brushing against y/n’s cheek almost tenderly. “alright.”

y/n didnt want to wait, he clenched onto the man’s length, making the older groan.

the man shook his head, “impatient,” he said, his voice soft making something tingle inside y/n’s stomach.

y/n whined when he felt the man pulling away, he was ready to snap something snarky, but his words got cut off into a moan when the other suddenly thrusted into him,

y/n let out a soft, startled gasp as the man’s hands found their way back to his waist, pulling him flush against him, the tip of his member directly pressed against the bundle of nerves inside of him.

the man occasionally lets a low grunt, his hands moving to hike up y/n’s hoodie just enough to see his abdomen and chest, he leans down, his lips ghosting over his skin before nipping at one of y/n’s perked up nipples.

the younger inhaled sharply, the soft whimper that escaped his throat betraying him. his face flushed, trying to bite his lips to hold back another whimper when the man continued his pace.

y/n couldnt help but arch his back whenever the man pulled out so slightly, then bottomed inside him in one go— or the way his hips instinctively move by itself whenever the man pulls away.

y/n’s eyes snapped open just in time to catch the soft smile tugging at the man’s lips. before y/n could protest, he was pulled into a kiss—soft, but deep, silencing the whimpers and desperate gasps that were about to spill from his lips.

he couldnt help but melt into the kiss,, muffling any moans that would leak out whenever the man’s length grazes his prostate.

he relaxes under the man’s touch, hands moving from the older’s shoulder to his back, scratching slightly at his skin.

each movement from the older man was slow, yet y/n felt like he could feel his length in him so deep. pushing y/n closer to edge, he pulled himself away from the man to catch his own breathe,

“fuck-” y/n gasped, his insides tightened, making the man above him grunt. his back arched again, clinging onto the man on top of him, hands desperately gripping the man’s shoulder.

“im gonna..” he squeezes his eyes shut. “M-mister!”

his body tensed up, his eyes slightly rolling back to his skull. thick, white ropes fell onto his own abdomen, some even getting to the man’s body.

the man slowed down for a second, his lips curling into a small smile, he watch y/n’s face contort into pleasure before leaning down to kiss him again.

“you did so well.” he murmured.

y/n, still dazed, only hummed in response.

the man wished he had the stamina to keep going, the sight of y/n in his arms and the noises he makes whenever he moves are just so addicting.

his movements grows erratic, he felt himself throbbing inside of y/n, his grip tightening around y/n, enough to leave a bruise.

his hips stuttered, a deep groan escaping his throat as he buried his face into the younger’s neck. just before he was about to climax, he pulled out and jerked himself off. spilling his come all over y/n’s stomach.

and for once, y/n forgets everything around him, the break up, the bad day he was having,, and the fact he doesnt even knows the name of the man he just spent the night with.

but it doesnt matter, right?

while he felt himself drifting into sleep, he was carefully carried to the bathroom, he felt his hoodie being taken off and before he knew it, the man had gently put him in a bathtub filled with warm water. by the time the man had finished bathing him, he was already half asleep. he was tucked in into the bed, the man climbed into the cover with him, “are you really not gonna tell me your name..?” y/n murmured, too tired to care anymore, but still slightly curious. the man simply laughed, his voice sending butterflies to y/n’s stomach, his hand gently brushing through y/n’s hair. “maybe later.” y/n hummed one last time, before drifting into a well needed sleep. the next morning, y/n woke up with a headache that felt like a hammer to his skull, his body ache from the waist down- though not in a bad way, enough to remember what had happened last night.

he looked around the room, noticing theres nobody else but him. next to the bed was the nightstand, his half lidded eyes landed on whats on top.

a bottle of hangover medicine and an energy drink.

huh, how nice.

so the guy, whoever he was, hadnt left him butt naked and was nice enough to actually give him a bath and dress him up.

y/n exhaled, running a hand through his hair and dragged himself out of the bed,

theres no sign of the man last night, no note, no nothing.

maybe that was the best decision, at least y/n doesnt have to see him again.

with a huff, y/n took the hangover medicine and drinks it in one go, then grabbed his bag (making sure he still have his personal items..) and left.

the motel was coincidentally near his dorm apartment, letting y/n have just enough time to change his clothes from last night, making sure to bring a coat before heading out. (hed rather be caught dead than wearing the same clothes from yesterday ;; )

eventually, with enough convincing from himself, he hauled himself to his university. his friends were already waiting for him, one of them raising an eyebrow at him and his appearance, “you look like hell.” “thanks,” y/n muttered, having no energy to even fight back, sipping his coffee as him and his friends trudged to class. on the way to class, his friends were talking about a rumor, something he have no interest in unless its about him, “have you heard about the new TA?” one of his friend asked, poking y/n from the side for a reaction, y/n only grunted in response, barely paying attention to their conversation (& nearly walking into a pole if his friends didnt tug him aside with his bag.) “they say hes young,” another chimed in, “and apparently hes hot.” y/n only hummed, almost falling into a bush if it werent for his friends pulled him by the collar of his coat. “so?” someone scoffed, do y/n even know him..? maybe hes a friend of another friend. “he probably has those “im better than you.” mindset being so young.” ..whatever he said immediately went into y/n’s left ear and left from the right ear. when they finally reached their class, they sat in their usual place in the middle, all of them still talking except for y/n— whose mind kept drifting to last night, the warm hand, soft kisses, the aftercare.. “dude you’re zoning out again.” his friend lightly waved his hands in front of y/n, finally snapping him out of it. “ugh,” y/n groaned, “and whose idea was it to go to that bar yesterday-” before he could say anything else, the door clicked open, the room immediately went silent as footsteps echoed against the floor, some of the students instantly murmured about the person who had just entered the room, some complimenting their look, some talking about some rumors. y/n looked up from the table, eyes widened at who was standing in front of the lecture hall. the same man from last night? dressed in a crisp shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, looking the same as he had when y/n last saw him. he nearly ran out of the hall, but he needed that attendance. “good morning, everybody.” he greeted smoothly, the same deep voice that y/n heard last night. “ill be your TA for this semester.” you gotta be kidding me he screamed internally, panic shot through his veins, y/n yanked his hood up, tugging it so low it nearly covered his eyes, his friends, thinking hes having another episode, just shrugged it off and continued talking. he slumped forwards, elbows against the desk,, trying to hide himself. please don’t recognize me. please don’t recognize me. he glanced up again, trying to take a peek at the man in front to make sure hes not going coo coo crazy— but to his dismay, the same man from last night- now his TA was staring directly at him, smiling as if they were best friends. y/n froze, his brain short circuited, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA as if on cue, the man introduced himself to the class once again. “you can call me Seo Seungjae.”

y/n nearly choked.

a/n hooo leee sheet i finished this. hooe lle sheet. smut took me,, 4 hours. aha. stared at my google docs like a madman whenever i typed something since id get distracted to something else TT ( ´ ω ` ) hopefully you guys enjoyed this ;; based on a real story of mine? harhar (excluding the TA part,) but i actually loved writing this,, i liked y/n and oc's dynamic here,! if anyone else liked this character,, ill probably write a second part ; i recently updated my carrd! feel free to check it out at the description,, my inbox r open as well ^^ goodnight everyone!! mwa

#mayi'swriting—#mayi'scharacter—#male reader #bottom male reader #bttm male reader #sub male reader #x male reader #oc x male reader #male x male #male x reader #dom character #male reader insert

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twentyyearstoolate · 2 days ago

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Whatever's left after the fall of the U.S. Hegemony will roll out some landmark case studies on just how badly the Democractic party shot itself in the foot over and over by trying to brand itself to appeal to the phantom moderate conservative, alienating literally everyone else left of a nonexistent voter bloc, while simultaneously trying to cover their corrupt asses by promising the wealthy that, and I quote, "nothing will fundamentally change."

This whole campaign was echoes of 2016 when, where Trump was running trains on the Democratic party by campaigning against "out of touch elites" and "Making America Great Again," the DNC was... largely reinforcing his statements against them by refusing to run the popular socialist candidate for fear of upsetting their rich donors, passing up the campaign trails in states full of working class people and riding on a platform of "America Is Already Great."

I have reservations about the legitimacy of the 2024 election. Between Trump's open admission on "Not needing your votes," the number of threats directed at polling locations during the election, and data scientists across the board pointing out the irregularities in noise with an up to 5% uptick in "bullet ballots" marked only for Trump in swing states, combined with the fact that software engineers have been pointing out for decades just how susceptible some of these machines are to manipulation? With all the ways the U.S. interferes in foreign affairs around the world, in retrospect, I'd be surprised if this country's had a real election in a long time. But it certainly doesn't help that Democrats continue to burn their constituents by running a Republican-lite platform, like the disagreement here between liberals and conservatives is on the best way to use our resources to improve the lives of U.S. citizens, as perhaps it was several decades ago, and not, y'know, whose lives are worth even keeping, let alone improving.

Every shitass Democratic administration in my lifetime has placed undue emphasis on some magical idea of "Bipartisanship," as if we're supposed to want to agree in any part with the people who are literally creating a technocratic ethnostate that works its citizens eighty hours a week to make a dozen people trillionaires. We all know this is wrong, we're watching fascists dismantle the government in real time, again, and the Democratic leadership is pointing fingers at everyone and everything but themselves, again, as they're almost certainly planning to run yet another milquetoast campaign for some white bread trust fund baby candidate on the hollow premises of "Unity" and "Saving Democracy" while continuing to ignore their constituents who are begging, pleading for them to learn a lesson and stand up for anything. I hope in my lifetime we see more Gen X/Millennial candidates who were raised in the turmoil of Reaganomics working class life like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, who is one of the few sitting in congress right now who's speaking to the anger the people of the United States feel, finally get seats at the table and can begin to undo the lifetimes of damage a corrupt, narcissistic, geriatric leadership has inflicted on this country.

It is kind of funny that Biden waxed his ego about how he was the only one who could stop Trump after Charlottesville and now the US treasury is being robbed by a south african nazi. Genuinely such a shit president on his face

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revelboo · 3 days ago

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Revel im coming to your door step begging and pleading for anything Bee related, one shot, hcs, smut fluff WHATEVER..just give me whatever you want and I'll DEVOUR IT. I'm on my period and hella emotional and i burn through all your fics so fast i just- UGH 😭

on another note i hope you're having a day far FAR better than me and just good over all, love you! n thank you!! 🫶🏻

Sure! Fluff and 18+ Mass displaced mech scenario 🌶️

Earthspark Bumblebee x Reader Scenarios

Comfort

• “You’re being quiet today.” There’s no judgement in his soft voice and you appreciate that so much. Just like he hadn’t complained when you’d caught his hand and pulled it to you, encouraging him to drape it across your middle. Enjoying the heat of his touch. Laying back against him under an apple tree and letting the sun warm you, you tip your head back against his heated chassis. “Everything okay?” Like he’s afraid he’s done something wrong and and you smile up at him.

• “Just a little off today,” you say, a hand resting on top of his. He’s been around you long enough to understand that for a week or so a month, you might be quieter than normal or even snap at him and feel immediately bad about it. And that you’re too embarrassed to talk about whatever it is. So he’d asked Dot and she’d told him. In excruciating detail what the problem most likely was. Giving him a lesson on human reproduction that he hadn’t really been expecting. Or particularly wanted.

• Tracing little circles on the back of his hand, you ask him for a story and he tells you about before the war. About a city that’s gone now, destroyed in the fighting, but that he remembers with such longing in his voice that your own chest aches. Relaxing against him, you let his touch and voice soothe away the discomfort and distract you.

Smut

• Warm palm sliding up your spine as you lay on your belly, legs dangling over the edge of the container he’d bent you over, your body’s humming where he’s been teasing you for what feels like forever. Can feel his erect spike leaving a damp trail against your inner thigh as he bends over you, mouth peppering soft kisses against the back of your neck. And he shifts against you, the head of his spike sliding so close to where you need him as he presses a soft bite against your neck, sucking and nipping the spot until you know he’s trying to leave a mark. Something he’d become obsessed with after finding out how easily he can mark you. “Bee, please,” you whimper, down to begging as his spike slides against you. Right there when you’re aching for him.

• Humming softly as his mouth slides to a new, lower spot, he reaches between your bodies to grip his spike and slide himself against your slick heat just to make you whimper again. Hurting to be inside you, but wanting to take his time with you. “You’re so wet for me aren’t you?” He growls, finding you and slowly driving deep. Smiling when you wiggle as much as you can in the position you’re in, trying to get him to move while he just wants to savor this. The feel of you wrapped so tight around his spike. “Tell me what you need.”

• “Fast,” you manage, resting your cheek on an arm and feeling his servos grip your hips. The first deep thrust a sharp snap of his hips before he’s growling against your neck, mouth and denta teasing your shoulder as moves inside you. Keeping you pinned where he wants you. Optics shuttering as he listens to the sounds you make. Those little gasps and moans, the wet sounds of his spike pumping inside you. Feeling you begin to squirm, trying to push back to meet his thrusts and he pins you better just to make you whine a protest. “Bee, please.” Squirming a hand under you to play with you until your hips are bucking, until you cry out and tighten on him. Fisting his spike so tightly and he keeps moving, hips snapping until he shakily catches himself on his forearms to keep from crushing you. Hips still rocking urgently as he fills you, pressing deep and groaning against your skin and fighting the urge to spark you. Every time it’s a little harder to resist and knows he’s going to have to have the discussion with you eventually. Because he wants it so bad. Wants to claim you so thoroughly you’ll never need anything but this, him.

#transformers x reader #earthspark bumblebee #bumblebee x reader

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nakylvr · 13 hours ago

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— CRAZY

sophia laforteza x fem!reader

summary: sophia's first official mission assigned with you doesn't go exactly as planned

warnings/tags: language, violence, kate bishop!sophia, yelena belova!reader, one sided enemies to lovers

part 1

another part hehe lmk if yall want more 😋

"hey, pretty."

sophia closes her eyes and clenches her jaw to keep herself from snapping just at the sound of your voice and presence beside her. after she was informed you would now be accompanying her on every mission she was assigned due to her mentor being forced into early retirement, she was not happy in the slightest. she was used to clint, she had been his apprentice for a while now. she was a sociable person, but she did not like you. scratch that, she hated you.

"hello," she says calmly, opening her eyes and finally looking at you.

sophia forgot everything she was going to say when she looked at you, feeling the air get sucked from her lungs at what you were wearing. compared to seeing you last week when you broke into her apartment and were in casual clothes, seeing you in your suit had her face turning red without realizing. it was essentially the same as black widow's suit, only for it was white and had a lot more holsters with guns and knives alike in them. the night vision goggles were an addition she didn't expect either as they sat on top of your head so you could see her clearly.

"what? cat got your tongue, pretty?" you tease, a smile growing on your face.

"shut up." sophia turns her head toward the warehouse you were standing in front of. "do you need a briefing on what we're doing?"

"nah." you shake your head. "go in and eliminate the bad guys." you put your night vision goggles over your eyes.

"what?" sophia looks at you confused. "no, we're-"

however, she was cut off from her sentence by you grappling to the building and zipping up to the second floor, her jaw hanging open at you just leaving. "oh boy," she mumbles to herself, putting her visors over her eyes. "this is gonna be a long night."

landing in a room on the second floor, you stay low to the ground and look around. you could hear movement and voices downstairs, but you weren't close enough to hear what they were saying.

"where are you?" sophia's voice comes through the earpiece hooked around your ear.

"second floor," you answer quietly, standing up and starting to walk around. "they're all downstairs."

"you're sure?" sophia questions.

"considering i haven't gotten shot yet, yeah. i'm sure," you reply. "where are you?"

"back entrance. i count seven of them."

"how many can you take?" you carefully open the door of the room, stealthily making your way down the hall to the stairwell. you can see all of the men clearly now, and with your night vision goggles you can easily spot where they specifically are. "oh, and are we supposed to kill them?"

"try not to kill them," sophia tells you. "we're supposed to just extract the weapons. there's no need to kill unless it's necessary."

"and what do we deem necessary?" you ask, pulling out one of your knives and readying it in your hand to throw. "because if you didn't notice, they all have guns. three have sub machine guns and four have regular pistols. this isn't going to be a no-kill situation i don't think."

"whatever you're thinking, don't do-"

you don't let sophia finish her sentence, seeing one of the men look at you and starting to raise his gun before you threw your knife right in the center of his chest. immediately the other men noticed due to the scream, and they all started looking around for you.

"god damnit," sophia curses under her breath while securing the arrow on her bow. "fine. shoot to kill."

a smile forms on your face at her words. "don't need to tell me twice." you pull your pistol from your holster, aiming at the head of one of the men. "just give me the okay, pretty."

"you already have it, dumbass. now shoot." sophia rolls her eyes, peering through the window she was next to.

closing your right eye, you pull the trigger and the bullet lands right in the center of his head. "bullseye," you snicker. the men turn in your direction, making your eyes widen slightly, but the smile on your face grows. "alright then." you pull another knife out with your free hand.

as soon as one of the men spot you and raises his gun, an arrow comes flying and lands in his chest right where the heart is. he barely managed to get a small scream out before he landed on the ground, making the group start averting their attention to the back entrance.

you slowly start making your way down the stairs, but when you step on a certain one it makes a loud creaking noise and a few of the men turn back to you. "shit," you curse. they quickly raise their guns and start shooting rapidly, making you jump over the rail of the stairs and land on the ground to duck behind the wall. bullets fly through the wood of the wall, and you're stuck until they stop firing, knowing better than to try and shoot back in the midst of countless bullets coming in your direction.

"jesus christ," sophia grumbles under her breath the second you make noise on the stairs. thankfully, it did help her get inside quietly and hide behind one of the crates, peeking around the corner with an arrow aiming at one of the men. without hesitation she lets go, and the arrow flies, hitting him in the head.

once the firing slowed to a stop, you quickly get up from behind the wall and into the open, where you immediately throw your knife and start shooting with your other hand before ducking back behind the wall. reloading your gun, you hear footsteps start approaching you.

"a little help would be nice, y'know," you say quietly, another knife already in your hand.

you don't get a response from sophia, instead you hear the whizzing of an arrow fly by that hits the man walking towards you, the body landing next to you on the ground.

two left. then you'd be out of here. this should be easy.

peeking around the corner, you can see the the remaining two heading towards sophia's direction. you move around the body next to you, sneaking closer to the two who's backs were faced towards you, barely being able to see sophia's bow above the crate ready to shoot. moving quicker, you stand up straight and stab the first man in the neck, holding him against your chest while shooting at the second one.

dropping the body in your arm, it falls to the ground beneath you as you take a few deep breaths. "well, that was easy!" you say, putting your gun back in its holster.

"you almost died, idiot." sophia stands up, taking the arrow out and putting it away in the bag on her back.

"but you saved me." you smile at her. "so it wasn't that–"

you're interrupted by a gunshot ringing past your ears. the next few moments felt like a blur. hearing the shot, turning and raising your pistol, shooting the man, sophia on the ground bleeding out.

"sophia! shit, shit, shit!" you crouch down and pick her up bridal style, looking around frantically before quickly running out of the warehouse.

your first thought is go to HQ, but that's too far. your second option is go to the hospital, but you were explicitly told to not go to any public hospital. your last option was your apartment, which wasn't too far if you ran quick enough. so that's where you started running to.

sophia could barely process what was going on until she opened her eyes and realized she was being carried in your arms while you ran down the streets to your apartment. she could see you talking, but she couldn't hear what you were saying, the blood rushing to her head that felt heavy as she laid limp in your arms. she could make out a few words. 'you're going to be okay' was the most she could see you repeating to either her or yourself for reassurance.

you kept glancing down at the woman in your arms, blood seeping into your white suit as you ran faster. her eyes were open, that was a good sign. that meant you still had some time.

getting to your apartment, after fumbling with the key for a moment you manage to get inside, shutting the door with your foot. you hurry over to your couch, carefully laying sophia down on it before rushing into the bathroom to get your first aid kit and other supplies. getting back to sophia on the couch, you crouch down beside her.

"hey, you're probably gonna hate me for this but if i don't get this out you will bleed out," you say, opening the first aid kit and your small bag of other medical equipment. "but thankfully i know what i'm doing. because of being shot multiple times." you flash a small smile at her. once you had everything laid out on your coffee table next to you, you look back at sophia. "will you let me help you?"

sophia, who's eyes were hardly open at this point, just nods her head to your words, not really hearing them clearly. glancing around, she didn't know where she was. but she didn't really care at this particular moment right now. she didn't even notice you unzipping her jacket and pulling her shirt up so you could see the wound.

"alright. bite this." you put a bunched-up towel near her mouth, and she would question you if she wasn't on the verge of passing out, so she just bites down onto it, anxiously waiting for whatever you were going to do. "i'm really sorry if this hurts."

unfortunately, the bullet didn't go all the way through, which meant you had to struggle with getting it out of her. which then you had to clean the wound and bandage it up. by the time you were done, sophia had already passed out from the pain. but she was still breathing, which was good news.

after changing out of your suit, you walk back into the living room and sit on the floor in front of the coffee table, letting out a long sigh and dragging your hands over your face. "i'm gonna get killed for this," you mumble to yourself.

when sophia wakes up roughly ten minutes later, she looks around in confusion before her eyes land on you sitting on the ground on your phone. she tries to sit upright, but instantly feels a sharp pain and lets out a gasp making her lay back down. your head jerks up at the sound, quickly putting your phone down.

"hey," you say. "you probably shouldn't move a whole lot."

"where am i?" sophia asks, her eyes glancing around at the decor on the walls and the room.

"my place," you answer. "i didn't know where else to go. it was the closest place and i had the equipment to get the bullet out."

sophia's eyes land back on you, her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "you got–" she stops herself, shaking her head. "why would you do that?"

"i couldn't exactly have you dying on the first mission i'm assigned with you," you shrug. "i don't want to get fired already."

despite your words, sophia can remember the look on your face when you were running with her in your arms, the words you kept saying to her. why were you acting like it wasn't a big deal now?

she nods her head slightly, looking back up at the ceiling. "thank you," she says. "i would've probably died."

"so you're admitting you needed me?" you reply, a smile growing on your face.

sophia rolls her eyes at your words, seeing your smile out of the corner of her sight. "whatever."

"it's okay, i know," you chuckle, standing up. "you should probably stay the night, you can't really get far right now," you tell her while walking around the coffee table to stand in front of her.

"are you serious?" she looks at you like you're crazy. "i think i'm fine." she shakes her head and tries to sit up again to feel the intense pain return, groaning quietly and slowly going back down on her back.

you watch her and let out a quiet sigh. "well?" you say, hands on your hips. "do you want me to get you to an actual comfortable bed or do you wanna stay on this shitty couch?"

sophia doesn't look at you, still staring at the ceiling as she bites her tongue to keep herself from saying something she shouldn't. "fine," she grumbles softly.

"that's what i thought." you lean down, carefully picking her up off the couch, her arms wrapping around your neck as you held her.

walking to your bedroom, you already had the covers pulled back on one side. you set her down on the bed, then taking a step back and standing there awkwardly. "uh, just holler for me if you need anything. i'll be on the couch," you tell her, turning around and starting to walk away.

you're stopped when sophia grabs your wrist, having you turn back around to look at her.

"you can sleep here too, it's your house," she says.

"i mean, i could, but you should–"

"just get in the fucking bed, yn." she cuts you off, looking at you with a look you hadn't seen on her before. her eyes not staring at you with the normal seriousness they always had, her expression not looking like she wanted to punch you in the face. not to mention her saying you're actually name for the first time, but you tried to push past that.

"okay." you reluctantly agree. walking to the other side of the bed, you climb in and keep a reasonable distance between you and sophia, your arms resting at your sides awkwardly.

"what the hell are you, a virgin? jesus christ," sophia sighs irritably, grabbing your arm and tugging you closer. she slowly rolls over onto her side to look at you now that you're closer to her. "thank you for helping me," she says quietly.

your body tenses up when she pulls you closer to her, moving along with it and glancing over at her when she speaks. "it's no problem." you shake your head. "i couldn't have you dying on me."

sophia nods. "right, because you would get fired. not because you were freaking out repeating i was gonna be okay or anything."

your face flushes at her words, not realizing that she had seen you panicking while running back to the apartment. "well, when you put it that way i sound like a idiot," you mumble.

"you are," she replies. "but, you saved me, and i appreciate that."

"of course." you nod. "don't worry about it. let's say we're even now?"

"mm," sophia hums, pretending to think about it for a moment. "yeah, i think we're even," she says, moving closer to you and draping her arm over you, situating her head between your neck and shoulder. "if you let me stay like this, then i'll forget about you trying to kill me."

your breath catches in your throat at her actions, a shiver going down your spine as she whispers against your skin, tickling you slightly. looking down at her, her eyes are closed and she looks peaceful, content. it had been a while since you'd been in this position, even if it was under good circumstances, causing your heart to beat faster trying to keep yourself together.

"you can stay like this for as long as you want," you respond. "i don't mind."

all that comes from sophia is a short hum and nothing else, and when you look down again, she's asleep. a small smile forms on your face at the sight, and you move a little bit so she could be more comfortable, resting your arm under your head while looking up at the ceiling. the blades spin slowly, and you find yourself finally feeling tired for once in a while. closing your eyes, you let out a short breath, allowing yourself to fall asleep now that everything was calm and quiet.

#katseye thoughts 💭#katseye x reader #katseye imagines #sophia laforteza thoughts 💭#sophia laforteza x reader #sophia x reader #sophia imagine #marvel!kats thoughts 💭

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someonegoood · 3 days ago

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THE CORPORATE EQUATION drabble #4 ✫ jeon jungkook

CONTAINS: corporate!au, ceo!jk, headofhr!reader, grumpy x sunshine, slow burn, accidental vulnerability, mutual pining, emotionally unavailable jk, bickering turned bonding, fluff & angst :)

NOTE: this will be a mini series. thanks so much for reading!! this work is not revised and english is not my first language :)

miiini taglist @haru-jiminn @parapiop7 @radcustoms @minniejim @jeonzll @vantelover1306 @bgfdcvbnjk @mar-lo-pap @lmaothv @jksusawife @thatgirliehan @rayyrayy10 <3

my main masterlist! ❀ the corporate equation masterlist!

❀ drabble four: dinner words

The restaurant you choosed was quiet, tucked away from the usual bustle of the city. It wasn’t extravagant, but it had a certain charm—warm lighting, soft music, and a refined yet comfortable atmosphere. You glanced around, taking it all in as you sat across from him, your fingers skimming over the crisp white tablecloth.

“You actually agreed to this,” you said, a teasing lilt to your voice as you picked up the menu.

Jungkook, who had been nursing his glass of whiskey, sighed. “I didn’t agree. I was forced.”

You laughed. “Right. Because taking a break is such a horrible fate.”

He shot you a look, but there was no real bite to it. The weight of the office, of responsibilities, of unspoken frustrations—none of it seemed to press quite as hard here.

A waiter passed by, setting a delicate vase with white lilies in the center of your table. Your face lit up instantly.

“I love white lilies,” you murmured, reaching out to touch one of the petals. “They’re my favorite flowers.”

Jungkook’s gaze flickered from the flowers to you, something unreadable flashing in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, just hummed in acknowledgment before taking another sip of his drink. You didn’t press him.

Dinner was… surprisingly easy. Conversation flowed, and though Jungkook was still as guarded as ever, there were moments where his walls cracked—just enough for you to catch glimpses of something softer underneath. He listened when you spoke about your family, your ambitions.

He even let out a quiet chuckle when you recounted an embarrassing story about Soojin and Minho from the office Christmas party last year.

“You actually laugh,” you said, mock-surprised.

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “Don’t get used to it.”

The meal stretched on longer than either of you had planned, but neither of you seemed eager to leave. It wasn’t until the waiter cleared the last of your plates that the spell was broken. Jungkook checked his watch, sighing.

“We should—”

Then, a voice interrupted.

“Well, isn’t this unexpected?”

You turned toward the source, your stomach twisting at the sight of the woman standing a few feet away. Shw wa the same woman you had seen at the airport: stunning, poised, with long, dark hair and an expression that carried the weight of history. Her eyes flickered between you and Jungkook, amusement and something else—something unreadable—playing at the edges of her lips.

“Yuna,” Jungkook said, his voice carefully neutral.

So this was her.

His ex.

The atmosphere shifted instantly, the warmth from moments ago cooling into something more distant. Jungkook’s shoulders tensed, his jaw tightening just slightly. And though you knew better than to let it show, your fingers curled subtly around the edge of your napkin.

“Mind if I join?” Yuna asked, tilting her head ever so slightly.

Jungkook hesitated. And just like that, whatever fragile moment had been built between you and him began to splinter.

Yuna didn’t wait for permission. She slid into the empty chair beside Jungkook, crossing her legs effortlessly, her gaze flicking to you with thinly veiled curiosity. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” she said, her voice smooth as silk.

Jungkook remained quiet, but his fingers curled slightly around his glass, knuckles turning white. You watched the subtle tension in his posture, the way he didn’t quite meet her eyes when she touched his bicep with her perfect and delicate hand.

“Surprised to see you here,” she continued, stirring her wine glass absentmindedly before glancing at you. “And… who might you be?”

You opened your mouth, but Jungkook beat you to it. “She’s my—” He stopped. Paused. Searching for the right words.

Yuna’s lips curled at the hesitation. “Ah,” she hummed, as if she already knew the answer.

You swallowed, pushing your chair back slightly. “I should get going.”

Jungkook’s head snapped toward you. “Wait—”

“It’s fine,” you interrupted, offering a tight-lipped smile. “It’s late anyway.”

He looked torn for a moment, but Yuna’s presence loomed between you like an unspoken history you didn’t belong to. You could see it in the way she studied him, how she knew exactly where to poke and prod.

You didn’t want to stay and watch it unfold.

Jungkook started to stand, but you shook your head, forcing a lightness into your tone that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Enjoy your night.”

And with that, you turned and walked out, the weight of something unspoken settling heavily in your chest. Jungkook didn’t follow. You didn’t expect him to.

The night air was cool against your skin as you stepped outside, but it did nothing to quiet the sudden storm swirling inside you. And just like that, your heart was broken into pieces. Again.

Falling in love with your boss wasn't great.

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kiemiu · 2 days ago

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' 𝓕𝐨𝐫 𝓜𝐞 , (re-upload)

pairing se-mi (player 380) x fem!reader | wc: 1.5k

synopsis se-mi starts to notice a change of your eating habits and gets worried.

genre pure fluff | requested by anon. | masterlist

The cafeteria was bustling as usual, filled with chatter, clinking trays, and the occasional burst of laughter. Se-mi sat across from you, watching as you absentmindedly pushed a piece of rice around your plate with your chopsticks. You hadn’t taken a single bite since sitting down.

Her brows furrowed, and she leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand. “You’re not eating,” she said softly, her voice barely audible over the noise around you.

You looked up briefly, then shrugged, offering a faint smile. “I’m just not that hungry.”

She didn’t respond immediately, her sharp eyes scanning your face like she was searching for a clue. “You’ve been saying that a lot lately,” she finally said, her tone gentle but insistent. “You barely touched your food yesterday too. Is… something going on?”

Her concern made your chest tighten, but you shook your head quickly. “I’m fine, Se-mi. Don’t worry about it.”

Her frown deepened. “But I do worry about it,” she said, her voice a little firmer now. “You need to eat. Skipping meals like this isn’t healthy.”

You sighed, glancing around the cafeteria as if looking for an escape. “I said I’m fine, okay?” you muttered, setting your chopsticks down. “I just don’t feel like eating.”

Se-mi didn’t look convinced. She crossed her arms and tilted her head, her expression a mix of worry and frustration. “You don’t ‘feel like it’? That’s not a good enough reason,” she said, her voice softening again. “You need to take care of yourself.”

Her words hung in the air between you, and you could feel her gaze on you, unwavering and full of concern. It was almost unbearable. “Se-mi, I don’t want to talk about this,” you mumbled, looking away.

She sighed, clearly reluctant to let it go but respecting your boundaries—for now. Instead, she picked up her tray and moved to sit beside you, nudging your arm gently as she settled in. “Okay, fine. Then just sit here with me while I eat,” she said, trying to sound casual. “No pressure.”

You shot her a skeptical glance, but she just smiled, grabbing her spoon and digging into her bowl of stew. She didn’t say anything else, but the way she angled her body toward you and occasionally glanced at your untouched tray made it clear she wasn’t ignoring the issue.

After a few minutes of silence, she suddenly held out a spoonful of her food toward you. “Here,” she said, her tone light but her eyes serious. “Just one bite. For me?”

You shook your head, leaning away slightly. “I don’t want it, Se-mi.”

Her expression faltered, the playful smile replaced by something more vulnerable. “Please,” she said quietly, lowering the spoon. “I’m worried about you. You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, but… seeing you like this—barely eating—it makes me feel like something’s not okay.”

Her words hit you harder than you expected, and for a moment, you couldn’t meet her eyes. “It’s nothing,” you whispered, but your voice lacked conviction. “I’m fine.”

Se-mi shook her head. “You keep saying that, but I don’t believe you,” she said softly. She hesitated, then added, “You don’t have to do this alone, you know. Whatever it is… I’m here.”

The sincerity in her voice made your throat tighten, and you swallowed hard, trying to keep the emotion at bay. After a long pause, you finally picked up your chopsticks and took a small bite from your tray. “There,” you mumbled. “Happy?”

Se-mi’s face lit up, though her worry didn’t completely fade. “It’s a start,” she said, her tone lighter now. “But I’m not letting you off the hook that easily.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Later that week, she dragged you to a cozy café after your shift. You protested the whole way there, saying you weren’t in the mood, but she ignored you, her hand wrapped firmly around yours. The warm smell of coffee and pastries greeted you as you stepped inside, and Se-mi immediately made her way to the counter, ordering two servings of your favorite dessert.

When the plates arrived, she slid one in front of you with a grin. “No excuses this time,” she said. “You love this, and I’m not letting you leave until you’ve eaten at least half.”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “Se-mi, this is ridiculous. You’re not my mom.”

“No, I’m not,” she said, her tone light but her eyes serious. “But I care about you. And I’m not going to sit back and watch you do this to yourself.”

Her words made your chest ache, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. She started eating her own dessert, making exaggerated noises of delight. “Mmm, so good,” she said, trying to coax a smile out of you. “Come on, don’t make me eat both of these by myself. You know I will.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, picking up your fork.

“And you love me for it,” she shot back, her grin widening as you took a tentative bite.

As the sweetness melted on your tongue, you couldn’t help but glance at her. She was watching you with a mix of pride and relief, like she’d just accomplished something monumental. And maybe she had—because for the first time in days, you felt a little lighter.

As you took another small bite, Se-mi’s grin grew even wider. She nudged your shoulder lightly with hers and said, “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You rolled your eyes, swallowing the bite. “You’re really not going to let this go, are you?” you muttered, but your tone was softer now, lacking its earlier sharpness.

“Nope,” she replied without missing a beat, popping a piece of her own dessert into her mouth. “Not when it’s about you. You’re stuck with me, so you might as well get used to it.”

Before you could reply, she scooted her chair closer, the legs scraping softly against the floor as she moved to sit beside you. The space between you disappeared in an instant, and you felt the warmth of her arm brushing against yours. She leaned slightly over the table, glancing at your plate like she was plotting something.

“Alright,” she said, her voice playful again. “Here’s the plan. We’ll take turns. I eat, then you eat. Deal?”

You blinked at her, confused. “What are we, five years old?”

“Do you want me to start making airplane noises too?” she teased, lifting her fork dramatically like it was a toy plane. “I will if it gets you to eat.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, I’m still your favorite person,” she quipped, giving you a smug grin before taking another bite of her dessert. She gestured to your plate with her fork. “Your turn.”

You hesitated, glancing at her out of the corner of your eye. Her expression was light and playful, but you could still see the faint trace of worry in her eyes, hidden behind her smile. She wasn’t just joking around—she really cared. And despite your resistance, her persistence was beginning to chip away at the wall you’d put up.

“Fine,” you said softly, picking up your fork again. You took another bite, this one a little bigger than the last. Se-mi let out a quiet cheer, clapping her hands together like you’d just won a gold medal.

“Look at you! You’re practically a professional at this now,” she teased, but there was genuine pride in her voice.

You gave her a look, but the corners of your mouth twitched upward despite yourself. “You’re so dramatic.”

“And you love me for it,” she shot back, echoing her earlier words with a playful wink.

The two of you fell into an easy rhythm after that. She’d take a bite of her dessert, and then she’d gesture for you to do the same. Occasionally, she’d make a joke or a silly comment, keeping the mood light and the conversation flowing. Bit by bit, you found yourself relaxing, the weight in your chest easing just enough to let you enjoy the moment.

As you both neared the end of your desserts, Se-mi leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms above her head. “See? We make a good team,” she said, her voice smug but her eyes warm. “You eat, I pester you—it’s a perfect balance.”

You gave her a half-hearted glare, but there was no heat behind it. “You’re exhausting, you know that?”

She grinned, leaning closer until your shoulders touched again. “But you don’t mind, do you?” she murmured, her tone softening. Her gaze lingered on you, and for a moment, the playful edge in her voice gave way to something deeper. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. That’s all.”

Your heart tightened at the sincerity in her words, and you found yourself looking down at the empty plate in front of you. “I know,” you whispered. “Thank you.”

She smiled, her expression tender. “Anytime.”

For the rest of the afternoon, she stayed close to your side, her presence a comforting anchor. And while the ache in your chest didn’t completely disappear, it felt a little easier to bear—because Se-mi was there, steady and unwavering, reminding you that you didn’t have to carry it alone.

#squid game #squid games x reader #squid game imagines #squid game headcanons #squid game x y/n #squid game fanfic #squid game x fem!reader #squid game x reader #se mi x fem!reader #se mi squid game #se mi x reader #se mi #semi squid game #player 380 x reader #player 380 #squid game 380 #se-mi x reader #se-mi squid game

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cherie-doll · 7 hours ago

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Okay great! Glad I cleared it w/ you first ^^

Could you please write the COD guys reacting to seeing his military crush bite an enemy in the throat, because somehow said enemy snuck up on them and, well, there wasn't much else they could do besides that, except like, die

So of course they chose to bite a guy to death, and he saw all of that

Is it #truelove or #ohmygodwhatwasthatgrossss 😭 /j

yk what's funny, i wrote a draft for this and turns out i never saved it... so here we go again

𖧧 Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

ᵎ Price had always thought of you as an admirable and exemplary soldier who always completed missions with efficiency. He never questioned how your methos for completing those missions... until now. A cry was about to leave his lips when he saw the enemy sneaking up behind you, until he stood watching in shock as you responded quickly by biting into their neck.

ᵎ Simon could have thought of other... methods that you could have used when taken by surprise. Sure, he's seen unspeakable war crimes but this has got to be one of those top ten moments on his list of things he wishes to NEVER witness ever again. Let's just say the ride back was dead silent.

ᵎ Soap would have such a big, fat crush on you there isn't anything you do that wouldn't look attractive to him. You've done a number of things and he would just kick his feet and giggle to himself. Seeing you sink your teeth into the enemy's throat with agility only made him experience an initial shock before thinking, "wow, they're so resourceful".

ᵎ Kyle could see why you would do something like that but... why? Just why? You have a weapon, he was covering for you and was it really easier to go rabid on someone rather than pull your knife out? He didn't know you had that side to you.

ᵎ Roach is scared. He's running; he fears he might be next if you confuse him for the enemy. He stood aghast for a moment before booking it out of there.

ᵎ Alejandro is lowkey into that. He had been observing you, watching your moves to see how you would perform out in the field. He's heard so much about how quick your reflexes are when it comes to combat but he surely didn't expect this. He likes 'em a little crazy anyways.

ᵎ Rudy made the mistake of assuming you wouldn't react in time. He had pulled out his weapon and aimed at the enemy who was attacking you now, he heard the shot on his end and then paused for a moment. He saw two figures still on the ground, until you got up, blood dripping down your chin and for a moment he assumed the worst; that he had aimed incorrectly and hit you instead. Until he saw the bitemarks on the enemy's neck.

ᵎ Phillip is usually proud of whatever his Shadows do to eliminate the enemy. He doesn't care how they do it so long as the job is done. He's yelling over the comm what a great job you did until he hears... questionable sounds? The sound of choking, ok so he thinks you choked the enemy out until another shadow responds saying you just bit someone and the gurgling sounds was the enemy choking on their own blood. Well...

ᵎ Makarov would sort of just laugh. He's never seen you panic so much in a moment where you don't even know what to do and act on whatever idea comes into your mind first.

ᵎ Keegan was beyond weirded out. When he had told you to learn from Riley he didn't mean for you to also take out the enemy soldiers by ripping their vocal chords out, he had meant it mostly as a joke that even the dog had better skills than you.

ᵎ König does not know how to react, how he should react. He is mainly concerned and hopes this doesn't become a habit. Perhaps he should suggest you visit a doctor? Ah, for your... teeth. Yep, that's exactly why. Not to get a mental checkup too while you're at it.

ᵎ Horangi is off the rails himself, he is no stable man to judge how you take someone out. He did give you the advice to fight with everything and anything. He was only trying to teach the new rookie he had a little crush on how to survive out there. And boy was he amused to see you take that advice.

ᵎ Nikto has killed a man in more ways than he can count. Some too brutal to mention. So, seeing you using your teeth as last resort to nearly bite the enemy's head off was like really falling in love with you. He did absolutely did not care that there was blood on your teeth, spilling down your lips as you tried your best to spit it out.

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yourlovelywriter · 2 days ago

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Bewitched by you? (Pt 1)

Lilia x reader…

Slow burn guys.. a little spicy later. 👀

(Mommy kink, angst, jealousy, panties, unusual use of said panties..)

———————————————

I adjusted the collar of my blouse for the third time, frowning at my reflection. “It’s just a job,” I told myself. “A weird job, but still just a job.”

The words didn’t do much to settle the nerves twisting in my stomach. I wasn’t sure why I was so anxious—maybe because I still couldn’t believe I’d actually been hired. When I first saw the listing for an assistant at Lilia’s shop,

I assumed it was a long shot. I had no experience in the mystical or magical, unless you counted binging astrology videos at 2 AM. But apparently, that hadn’t mattered.

Even people who rolled their eyes at tarot and spells knew her name. Some called her a fraud, others swore she was the real deal. Either way, she had power—the kind that made people lean in when she spoke and shiver when she looked at them too long.

I grabbed my bag and took a deep breath. Whatever was waiting for me inside that shop, I’d just have to handle it. Even if my new boss was a little…unpredictable.

The entire walk to the shop, my thoughts raced. What if I messed up? What if she could see things about me just by looking at me? Would she know I was nervous? Would she care?

The storefront was just as strange and dramatic as I’d imagined—deep purple paint, gold lettering on the windows, and a wind chime that jingled even though there was no breeze. A small wooden sign hung on the door, hand-painted with the words “Fate Awaits Within.”

I hesitated. Maybe I should turn around. Maybe I should—

The door swung open before I could finish the thought.

A woman stood in the doorway, her dark eyes fixed on me like she had been expecting me exactly at this moment. She was tall, effortlessly elegant in a yellow-orange wrap dress that hugged her curves, with grey waves of hair cascading over her shoulders. She was the kind of beautiful that made you feel unbalanced, like you’d forgotten how to stand properly.

You’re late,” she said, even though I wasn’t.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. She arched a perfectly shaped brow, then gave a slow, knowing smile.

“Come in, Y/n,” she said, stepping aside. “Let’s see if you’ll last the day.”

I swallowed hard and walked inside, feeling like I had just stepped into something far bigger than a simple job.

The moment I stepped inside, the scent of incense wrapped around me—something warm and spicy, like cinnamon and clove, with a hint of something I couldn’t place. The air felt heavier in here, charged, as if the walls themselves held secrets. Dim lighting flickered from candles perched on shelves, casting soft shadows over the deep emerald walls.

I barely had time to take it all in before Lilia shut the door behind me. The click of the latch sent a shiver down my spine.

“Come on,” she said, her voice smooth, effortless, as if she’d done this a thousand times before.

She moved through the shop with the kind of grace that made it impossible not to follow.

I hurried after her, weaving between displays of tarot decks, glass cases filled with polished stones, and a large circular table where a spread of cards lay waiting, as if a reading had just been interrupted

Lilia swept through a beaded curtain at the back, and I pushed through behind her, stepping into a sunlit office that felt different from the rest of the shop.

Papers and books cluttered a desk by the window, among scattered crystals and an abandoned coffee cup. A sleek black cat stretched across one corner, lazily cracking open one eye before deeming me unworthy of further attention.

“This is your desk,” Lilia says, nodding toward a small wooden table near the window. “You’ll handle calls, appointments, and whatever else I decide to throw your way.”

I straightened. “Got it.”

She gave a slow, almost amused smile. “We’ll see.”

Leaning against her desk, arms crossed, she studied me. I felt the weight of her gaze like she was seeing through me, past the résumé, past the rehearsed answers.

“So, Y/n,” she said, voice softer now, but no less commanding. “Why are you here?”

I blinked. “Um…because you hired me?”

She let out a quiet hum, tilting her head like I’d just confirmed something she already suspected. “No,” she murmured. “Why are you here?”

The question sent a strange chill through me. “I—I needed a change.”

Lilia arched a brow, like she wasn’t convinced. “Maybe.” A pause. Then, with a knowing smile: “Or maybe, you were always meant to walk through that door.”

A shiver trailed down my spine, but before I could respond, she pushed off the desk and turned toward the door. “Come on,” she said, already moving. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”

I exhaled slowly, ignored the feeling curling in my stomach, and followed her back into the unknown..

———————————

Hehheheheheh… anyway… this is supposed to be a slow burn but I don’t know if it’s any good.. might just abandon it. But yeah… anywho.. she’s so cute I love her.. 😍

#agatha all along #lilia calderu #lilia calderu x reader #fanfic #agatha harkness #patti lupone #I love her #sit on my face #jealousy

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chaoticrockmusic · 2 days ago

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↫彡🂡"My Girl can Wear Whatever"🂡彡↬

↫Peter Maximoff↬

You were just trying to get a snack. That was it. But the moment you stepped into the kitchen, Peter nearly dropped his Twinkie.

"Whoa—" His silver brows shot up as his eyes scanned your outfit. Not in a gross way, but in a "Do I need to start running?" way.

You raised a brow. "Problem?"

Peter shook his head way too fast. "Nope! No problems here. You can wear whatever you want, babe."

Jubilee, sitting at the counter, smirked. "Really? You don’t care?"

Peter scoffed, tossing an arm around your shoulders. "Pfft. Why would I? My girl can wear whatever she wants..." He hesitated, glancing at you and then lowering his voice. "...'cause I'm scared of her."

You narrowed your eyes. "What was that last part?"

"Nothing!" He grinned nervously, stepping back. "You look amazing! Stunning! Fantastic! A completely independent person with great fashion sense! I love that for you!"

Jubilee cackled. "Dude, you are terrified of her."

"Well, yeah," Peter said without shame. "Like, you think I'm about to tell her no? You think I got a death wish? Nah, I value my life, I like my face. I’d like to keep it in one piece."

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a granola bar from the pantry. "Good answer, Maximoff."

Peter sighed in relief. You were scary, but hey, at least you were his scary.

彡Logan彡

Logan had been minding his business at the bar when you walked in, dressed in something that made half the room do a double take.

He noticed. Oh, he definitely noticed. But instead of reacting like some jealous, overprotective boyfriend, he just sipped his whiskey.

It was not until some guy at the pool table let his eyes linger a second too long that Logan made a noise in the back of his throat—a low, rumbling ahem that sent a very clear message.

The guy turned, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

Logan smirked, tapping a single claw against his glass. "Nothin'. Just wonderin' if you're stupid or just feelin' lucky tonight."

The guy scoffed. "Relax, old man, it's just a look."

"Mm. See, I ain’t too worried ‘bout what she wears." Logan tilted his head, eyes sharp. "She can wear whatever she wants… ‘cause I can fight." He flashed his Adamantium claws.

The guy raised his hands and backed off real quick. Logan just chuckled, downing the rest of his drink.

You leaned against the bar beside him. "You always gotta scare people?"

He shrugged. "Ain’t my fault they spook easy."

You smirked. "You are such a show-off."

Logan just grunted, but the way he slid a possessive arm around your waist told you everything you needed to know.

🂡Remy LeBeau🂡

Remy was kicked back on the mansion's couch, long legs stretched out, flipping a poker chip between his fingers. He had seen you walk in, noticed the way heads turned, but unlike the others, he did not bat an eye.

Jubilee, being Jubilee, could not help but stir the pot. "Remy, you just gonna let her walk around like that?"

Remy did not even look up from his poker chip. "Remy think his chérie can wear whatever she want," he said lazily.

"Yeah?" Jubilee smirked. "You that confident?"

He flicked the chip up, caught it between two fingers, and finally smirked. "Mm-hmm. ‘Cause she's a houe, and I knew that before we started dating."

Gasps. Laughter. Even Logan huffed out an amused breath from the other side of the room.

Your eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

Remy grinned, finally looking at you. "What? You know it’s true, chérie. I fell for you ‘cause you a heartbreaker. A flirt. A menace." He tilted his head, voice dropping to a lazy drawl. "And yet, here we are."

You crossed your arms. "That does not make it better, you know."

"But it is true, non?" He flashed that dangerous, charming grin. "An’ I do not mind one bit."

You rolled your eyes, but you could not stop the small smirk tugging at your lips. Damn Cajun and his smooth talk.

Jubilee snorted. "I hate that he actually got away with that."

Remy just winked.

Hope you all enjoyed!! Love you all, kits! (houe means hoe in French. Idk what else to put there T ' T)

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wheneclipsefalls · 1 day ago

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Swimming Lesson (A Precious One Shot)

Pairing: Adult Ao'nung x Hyperfeminine human reader

Summary: Ao'nung is more than eager to teach you how to swim. He doesn't, however, anticipate what it leads to.

Warnings: aged up characters, explicit sexual content MDNI, reader has mild fear of water, interspecies relationship, established relationship, swearing, possessive beahvior, brief mention of violence, past bad relationship, insecurity, marking, scenting, dom/sub dynamics, etc.

A/N: I've been overthinkg this one for way too long. Here's how it turned out

Precious Masterlist

Adult Ao'nung photo by Cinetrix

Tawtute modesty is a perplexing concept. Most Sky People dress in a way that covers their body, even going as far as creating cubbies in their metal homes where they can change these clothes without others seeing. For a species that appears to have just as much sexual drive as Na’vi do, they certainly waste a lot of time and effort acting ashamed of their bodies.

Although your clothing is far more appealing, and even revealing at times, you too act very shy about being exposed.

And yet, it appears that this cultural norm is thrown out the window when it comes to swimming attire. Calling an outfit a swimsuit as you do, suddenly gives a tawtute a free pass to discard ninety five percent of their clothing and prance around without care.

No one had informed Ao’nung of this however so when you walk out in your handmade swimsuit for the first time, it takes him a moment to connect his mouth to his brain again. You give a little twirl as you always do, before rambling on about what material it’s made of and how easy or difficult it was to construct.

And as usual, Ao’nung takes his time admiring your latest work with greedy hands that always come out to grip your hips and spin you from side to side. This is a common routine for the two of you. It is customary for him to see your latest projects first so you can receive his opinion. Although both of you know he offers nothing close to helpful feedback. The real joy from this arrangement comes from him opening ogling you in the pretty clothes until you sufficiently feel confident in your genius.

You never stop him when he gets handsy either. Although that pretty blush often spreads from your cheeks to collarbones and you giggle at his lack of restraint, he knows you enjoy the obvious display of carnal desire. It’s a win-win scenario.

And today, stars above, there is so much for him to look at. Or rather, so little fabric to cover your form because this swimsuit as you call it is tiny. In many ways it feels a lot closer to the usual attire of females in his clan with intricate straps and only a tiny top and bottom to shield some of his favorite parts. In fact, this set is much like your bra and panties combo.

When he squeezes your hips and turns you to the side, he is more than ecstatic to find that this duo is actually more revealing than most of your undergarments. Is this truly considered decent in tawtute culture? Oh well, he knows better than to question when something good comes his way. Whatever reasoning sky people have come up with to justify these tiny outfits, he is grateful for.

The bottoms are held together by strings that tie at each hip similar to the ties on your upper back that keep the small chest piece in place. You’ve chosen fabrics of light blue for the base and cream for the trim that is of course bunched into frilly fashion. It wouldn’t be yours without some extra flare. The front of the bottoms cover decently but the back draws a shape higher onto the hips that leaves more than half of your gorgeous ass spilling out.

And it’s not the only thing to spill. The bottom sit low on your hips so that the front is tucked just beneath that adorable pooch of a stomach that Ao’nung is constantly tempted to bite into. Even the ties on the hips just barely press lines into your plush flesh that you call love handles. And to top it off, there is a tiny bow between your breasts and a matching one just atop your vulva.

Eywa above, if he knew teaching you to swim would put you in an outfit like this he would have fought even harder to make this day come sooner.

“Do you like it?” You ask, cheeks pink but eyes telling him that you already know the answer to your own question.

“What did you call this?” He asks, sweeping your long hair over one shoulder to admire the curve of your spine.

“A bikini.”

“Oeyӓ tawtute, I more than like it.” His lips gently press over a mark he had sucked into your skin last week, just above your shoulder blade. With twiddling fingers and a smile he can practically feel radiating even from behind you, goosebumps rise over your exposed flesh. “I don’t know what stops you from wearing this bikini thing more often.”

You snort and playfulling try to elbow him in the ribs. “You horny meathead.” With a giggle you turn around to scrunch your nose up at him which he has come to recognize as a chiding expression.

He’s not sure what is so funny about his comment. You may be giggling but he sees no reason why you couldn’t wear this during day to day life on the island. Although, he wouldn’t want to miss out on your strange dresses either.

“You know I can’t do that.”

He doesn’t but Ao’nung lets it drop when your small hand intertwines with his own and you practically begin skipping towards the beach. It seems this successful outfit has put you in a good mood, so it’s best to hold his breath and pray that it will remain that way once you get to the water. It has taken a couple weeks of convincing, borderline demanding, that you learn to swim.

Today you don’t show the usual signs of apprehension so Ao’nung plays along carefully, treading as light as a hunter worried about spooking their prey.

The good luck has passed. Whatever giddiness you felt from showing off your new bikini dissipated ten minutes ago when you two had finally reached the shore. Now you remain perched on the rock wall that extends a way into the shallows, watching with a nervous smile where Ao’nung stands in the water.

“You are stalling.” He accuses.

“I’m not.” You protest, bottom lip becoming snatched between your teeth. “I just think I need to observe you some more before I get in. After all, nothing’s better than watching the master.”

You catch on fast, that’s for sure. In the short few weeks the two of you have been together it seems that you’ve already devoted yourself to figuring out how to charm him and target certain weak spots. Try as you might, however, that isn’t going to work today.

“Get in.”

Your arms wrap around your own torso, a nervous habit of yours. He isn’t being mean, isn’t even raising his voice in the way some of his own teachers did when he was younger but it takes very little to intimidate a small tawtute like you. It’s important that he maintains some form of strict authority in these lessons, otherwise you will walk all over him.

It will never cease to perplex him how carelessly humans treat learning to swim. He thought the most horrific part of it would have been their form alone, something that had made his jaw drop the first time he saw Spider swim, but unfortunately it goes far beyond that. Among the seaside clans it is customary to have newborn children already learning how to kick to the surface on their own. Children know how to swim far before they can take their first steps. From what he’s heard, even the Omatikaya teach their children from a young age. And yet, Ao’nung was horrified to hear you say that some humans don’t learn how to swim until they are adults, some even die without learning.

He won’t let that be your fate. So no matter what it takes, he is getting you in the water today.

“You are being a bad numeyu [student], precious.” He warns, clicking his tongue in feigned disappointment. Just as he expected, your shoulders drop slightly. No doubt if you had a tail it would be tucking between your legs right now. Such little praise to have you melting and such little criticism to have you proving you can do better.

“We can start tomorrow I prom-AH!” Whatever promise you had hoped to placate him with turns into a squeal when Ao’nung heaves himself up onto the rock wall in one fluid motion. Immediately you start running back towards the beach. You know just as well as him that he can and will hunt you down to drag you back since it has come to that.

There is a part of him that awakens at the first sign of a chase. It’s the same part of his nature that has him imagining all the ways he could rip those scraps of fabric you call a bikini off and ruin you for any other man. It doesn’t help his focus to have your squishy ass bouncing further out of your bottoms as you sprint.

Regardless, the hardest part about catching you has nothing to do with the skills he has learned as a hunter and everything to do with keeping his carnal desires at bay. You would be all too happy to let take a session of his head between your pretty legs over a swimming lesson.

He has one thick arm wrapped around your waist within your first five steps. You waste no time in starting your pleas to be released, shorter legs kicking in the air as he tucks you against his chest.

“Wait! Ao’nung, I can’t! Not today. Put me down!”

“You can not learn without getting in the water.” He says simply.

“No no! I can’t! I can’t!” Once again your words turn to shrieks when he swiftly jumps back into the ocean, softly landing his feet in the substrate. The waves only reach his hips at this height and with you in his arms you are nowhere near having your head dunked under.

Nevertheless your efforts to cry for mercy quickly shift into clawing your way up his body. You squirm and wiggle and manage to twist halfway towards him so that you can grab his shoulders and try to get higher. You climb him like one does a tree, but with far less grace than anyone who has experience climbing to get the fruit.

“What are you doing?” With furrowed brows it takes everything in him not to laugh, only grunting softly when your feet get dangerously close to keeping him between the legs.

“Okay I think that’s enough for today. Bring us back up!”

“It is fine. Nothing is going to happen.” He assures, using his other hand to steer your feet away from his tewng [loincloth]. Ao’nung tries not to think about how good it feels when your legs wrap around his torso instead.

“Easy for you to say! You’re like ten feet tall and can hold your breath for an eternity.” The tide is not strong today, just as he planned, but even the small waves billowing against his waist seem to put you on edge.

This is why you teach children to swim early on. They have no notion of fear.

He is caught between two conflicting temptations. Laughing his ass off at your antics and chucking you into the deep end much like they do for Metkayina babies. However, both won’t have the desired result in the end. And Ao’nung tries to remember too how different you are from the Metkayina. They are born with life saving instincts while from what he has seen from humans, has been nothing but concerning regarding their instincts. There is no telling if you will resurface if he lets you go under now.

Growing up his teachers had always been strict; unforgiving. He knew the importance of learning skills swiftly so as not to become a burden for the clan, and even more so surpassing expectations as he would someday be Olo’eyktan. A tough regiment had worked for him but you…

You are soft. And it’s one of his favorite qualities you possess, both physically and emotionally, but this also means that using that strict attitude to the same degree would more likely have you giving up and locking him out of your room more than making any real progress. No, while a firm hand is necessary with you at times, it’s evident that praise draws so much more out of you than negative repercussions.

Ao’nung had thought you particularly inept when it came to climbing but he is surprised to find that you’ve scooted your way significantly up his torso and now have your blunt nails dig into his shoulder blades. Oh how he wishes they were dug in there for the same reason they were last night as he fingered your demon pussy open.

“Oeyӓ tsyeym [my treasure], do you think I would let you drown?”

“Well no but-”

“Is there anyone that knows these waters better than me? Anyone further capable when it comes to moving through the sea?”

“No.” You mumble against his shoulder.

“So since you are here with me, an expert, and we’ve already established I will not let you drown then does that not mean you are the safest person, both human and Na’vi, in the ocean today?” He tucks a curve finger beneath your chin so you are forced to meet his expression, his brows raised in question.

His logic is difficult to deny although there is still some hesitancy in your movements when you nod. But he’ll take it.

“And as your karyu [teacher] who is experienced in these ways should you not be trusting my methods?”

“Ao’nung-”

“No?”

Those pink lips form into what is surely meant to be a scowl but instead looks like nothing more than a pout to him. You know he’s right. How could you claim otherwise? But you stubbornly want to hold onto this fear.

“Yes, I suppose.” You say in a voice so small that Ao’nung’s ears have to perch forward to properly catch it.

“Good girl.” He grins, pecking you on the cheek before you can think up another excuse. “Let us begin.”

“Mawey, paskalin [be calm, honey]. You are too tense.” He purrs, hands supporting the curve of your back as you attempt to float atop the water. It’s a form not typical for the Metkayina but considering your small lungs he has deemed it essential for taking breaks in the water. However you are stiff as a board.

“I’m just trying not to sink.” You squirm until back on your feet and latched to his side. Perhaps you worry the tide will be strong enough to pull you out.

“The harder you try the more you will sink. Diving is not meant to be a struggle won. You must move with the water, do not fight against the sea.” For you to truly understand what he means you would have to actually try submerging beneath the waves. He had insisted that you learn without your mask, after all there is no guarantee you would be with it at all times, but it seems this crutch is one you are attached to and therefore refuse to go beneath the water without.

It is no issue. Ao’nung would rather teach you to dive the proper way slowly than have you relying on this crutch indefinitely.

“But you said that the sea is unforgiving. That it is a powerful force that does not discriminate when choosing prey.” Wet hair sticks to your cheeks as you look up at him. Ao’nung screws his lips and places a hand on his hip. You know how to pack a lot of trouble for someone half of his size.

“Hm, you love to twist my words, precious.” He teases, one hand snatching your hip to tug you in closer. He steadies your weak form when you stumble at the action.

“I-I’m not twisting it but this doesn’t make any sense. What am I supposed to do if a wave pulls me out from shore? I’ve heard even some Na’vi can not kick their way back in and so if they can’t neither can I. Not with these weak tawtute legs. And that’s not to mention the sea creatures. To some of them I’m not even a full bite!”

“None this close to shore are big enough to bite.” He cocks his head to the side. “Only some that could sting.”

“Ao’nung!” you screech hitting a hand against his chest. “I’m being serious. How am I ever going to be strong enough to do anything out here? It’s a hopeless cause which I knew but then again when do I ever really listen to-”

“You have forgotten to breathe.” And sure enough you pause for a second to take in his words before finally inhaling a shaky breath. When you get into rambles like this it’s common for you to fly off without any end in sight. Some days they are born out of nerves while others it's in excitement as you explain your favorite romantic movie in detail to him for thirty minutes. How did you survive such rambles before him? Who else was there to remind you the importance of oxygen?

“You think too much, paskalin.” Your pout only deepens but you lean against him. “I said I will teach you to swim and so I will. The rest is not for you to worry about.” Your hair tickles his lower abs when your head rests against him. He hears you inhale, preparing himself for more weak protests, but then you stop.

Your attention is snatched off to his far left where there is some splashing. He follows your gaze to find it fixated on one of the newests Ilu’s in deeper waters. This juvenile can only be a few weeks old as it is shorter than his forearm and remains in close proximity to its mother.

When he spots the way your expression softens, an idea sprouts. Ao’nung has been taking the wrong angle this entire time. It was only last week that he discovered how empathetic you are for animals, especially ones that have not reached adulthood. You had gone from constantly cooing at the strange small animals in your magic screen to falling apart into blubbering tears when one of the baby hippos, as you called them, couldn’t find his mother. It took a long time of hearing your choked up voice ramble about how alone that little creature must feel. It was a strange experience. Then again, that was during your bleeding week.

“We call her An’ali and her mother Se’xte.”

“She is adorable.”

“Do you want to see her?”

“Well yes but it’s deeper out there…” You trail off, uncertainty present in your tone.

“Grab on.” He instructs before bending down onto one knee and prompting your hands to his shoulders. You’re slow to comply, those big beautiful eyes peeking up at him with a flicker of apprehension but it seems your curiosity overrides that emotion because you finally clutch his shoulder to sprawl out across his back.

He could walk out to the ilu without any struggle of touching the bottom but Ao’nung opts to swim out smoothly, keeping his head and yours above the water. Just a small step to get you used to the feeling of gliding through the water. However, his swishing tail coming to aid does get tangled with your feet every now and then causing a giggle to bubble up your throat.

Luckily this sensation appears to distract you from the way the ilu swim out further into deeper waters. Ao’nung finds himself holding his breath, praying that you don’t notice how much further the sandy bottom is now. Fortunately, just as he hoped, the cute creatures have your full attention upon reaching them.

“Wow,” You whisper in a daze, looking past his shoulder. An’ali rubs up against her mother, earning an affectionate call in return. “They are beautiful.”

“They are ilu. Peaceful creatures.” When he reaches behind him to grab one of your hands there is resistance but he continues until it is resting upon the mother’s head. Se’xte gives a curious look but does not push away your tiny hand that pets at her head. He has a strong enough bond with her to have trust extending to you as well.

“And you ride them?”

“When we are younger, yes. Once a Na’vi has come of age and undergone their iknimaya they ride Tsurak.” If you are this amazed by the ilu he can only imagine what you will think once he introduces you to a Tsurak. Once he gets you more comfortable in the ocean maybe he can convince you to let him take you for a ride. At a slow pace of course. Your soft little hands do not have an ounce of the grip strength necessary to hold on for anything faster.

“She likes you.” Ao’nung smiles as Se’xte gives a chirp. He can practically feel you beam against his ear.

“I like her too.” It only lasts for another minute or so before the ilu is ducking beneath the water, not a sufficient amount of time to get a closer look at her baby. “Where are they going?”

“Beneath. We can follow.” Your fingers dig deeper into his shoulders, your breath wavering. Ao’nung doesn’t wait for permission however. It’s best not to give you time to overthink it. “Take a deep breath, paskalin.”

He waits to hear you deep inhale before diving beneath the surface. Your right arm hooks around his neck instinctively, your legs kicking out frantically but then there are the ilu just ahead, swimming around one another in a playful circle. Not wanting to push his luck too much on the first time, he surfaces after only a few seconds. This time he sets you to stand on a rock so that your head is above the soft waves.

“Ao’nung!” You gasp, holding a hand over your heart as if it is about to go into cardiac arrest. “Are you insane?! I could have died.”

“And yet you didn’t.”

That deeply rooted frown melts even as your eyes glare daggers back at him, no doubt not appreciating the smug look he wears. “You maniac!” Your accusation is accompanied by your right hand splashing water back at him. You’re barely holding back giddy laughter as you splash at him. Say what you want, but he knows you enjoyed the rush.

Ao’nung sweeps his own right hand out to splash back but his miscalculation of strength and the difference in height turns it into a full wave that washes over your entire upper body. “Oh.” He cringes slightly, feeling just a tad bit guilty for playing so rough.

However, to his surprise it lights something in your eyes. That embering fire turns into full blown competition as you try to imitate his man made wave. He fights back with his own, this time more gentle, retaliation as your laughter picks up. The Metkayina male’s tail swishes in excitement the further you take this little competition. Little sounds erupt from you that confuse him for a moment before he realizes this is your human form of battle cries.

His stomach aches from laughing so hard even as you manage to push a wave high enough to pummel him in the face. Ao’nung’s cerulean eyes narrow, his lips turning up into a crooked smirk. You have the better sense to scramble across the short distance of the rock when he lets out echoing yips and cries of a hunter who has already caught his precious prey.

Laughter and shouts coalesce together when he snatches you back in his arms. The splashing dies down as you struggle to catch your breath between wheezing laughter. Even Ao’nung himself finds his heart pounding at a significantly faster rhythm, but it’s spurred on by a new thrill that has taken him.

In the fit of playing you’ve slowly floated out of the circle in his arms, still holding onto his arms for support but there is no fear in your eyes now at being loosely kept above water. Just as he thought, the worst was all in your head.

“Do you trust me?”

You pause, eyes flickering between his face and the water again. And though it takes a moment for you to respond, you finally relent. “I do.”

Ao’nung smiles and situates you to float on your stomach. “Follow my lead, precious. Take a deep breath.”

Once he is sure your lungs are filled with oxygen Ao’nung wastes no time in helping you dive beneath the surface. His hands guide your body into the proper arch so that you can sink below and once you are, he dives beneath himself and grabs your clasped hands. With ease he slips deeper until he is directly below you and able to smoothly pull you through the water.

Your eyes are squeezed shut, as if bracing for harsh impact. Rolling his own eyes, he taps your cheek gently. When they timidly open he gives you a wide grin and a wink. However, Ao’nung does not have your spotlight for long. Now blown wide into sparkling orbs, your eyes take in every detail of the sea.

He gets to see it. The first time you fall in love with the ocean. The way you almost let out the breath in your lungs when a spade wing skates close by. How your gaze reflects every vibrant color the reefs have to offer. From the smallest to largest creature, you pay each the same undivided regard.

He couldn’t say what you see if his life depended on it, too enraptured in watching your reaction instead. The way one hand unclasps from his and reaches out to pet the juvenile ilu that passes them. Ao’nung can’t remember the first time he saw the ocean. He was only a baby and since then the underwater world has been his home more than the land above. So there is no telling if he looked at it for the first time the way you do now. Does he still appreciate the beauties of the sea for what they’re worth? Or has he grown to take such things for granted?

It feels like seeing it anew when he looks at it through your eyes.

He could watch you forever. Pull you through every inch of the sea if it means you can experience every wonder present from the open sea to the small nooks and crannies. You however can not hold your breath forever like this. So reluctantly, Ao’nung pulls you back up above the waves.

You gasp for air, but luckily there is no coughing fit to follow. Ao’nung keeps you above the surface as you fight to go back into a steady breathing pattern. However, it seems that the rapid beat of your heart is not just from catching your breath but also a reflection of the pure adrenaline your body displays.

Nothing is said for a long moment. Trying to gauge your reaction is difficult but a ravenous energy buzzes from you. Those pink lips part, but you don’t speak right away. You don’t appear to know what to say. And then slowly, your right hand comes to cup his cheek. He’s lost in your eyes the moment they snag his. A small sound catches in your throat, something between a laugh and a sigh.

For all the millions of words you’ve spoken, somehow this sound is the one he understands the most. True and utter awe.

Ao’nung doesn’t have to think when your lips touch his. It’s as simple as holding his breath, effortless as he pulls your body closer to his and bends to meet your kiss. It’s only been a few weeks since you first came to retrieve your bunny from his marui but his body has already begun acclimating to yours beautifully. He knows when to anticipate your little gasps for air when you’ve been kissing too long. His large hands have memorized the curve of your face and the feel of his fingers threading through your silky hair.

The ocean has never felt more tranquil than with you in his arms.

“The purple on the fins also reminded me of a dress that I put down ages ago, but now I don’t know maybe I will pick it up again. Because it looks so pretty in the water. Now that I think about it, it reminds me a lot of Annika’s dress. The one she magically receives at the end.”

Ao’nung wracks his brain to identify which movie you are referring to. Is this one you have already showed him or are you simply thinking out loud? Chances are it may be one of the stories he missed entirely because you were too tempting wrapped in that silky lingerie. Distracting you had earned him a light slap to the head but you didn’t complain once you were clenching around his thick fingers.

Even with your translation, following the plots of those weird stories is not nearly as entertaining as watching your face scrunch up in pleasure. Regardless, it’s important to you so he tries his best to behave. Or at least behave enough to keep you from kicking him out of your room.

“Oh my god what I would give to have the fabric for that dress.” You groan, your little theatrics tugging a smile to his lips.

“You were a very good numeyu [student] today, paskalin.” Ao’nung says, squeezing the hand that is interlocked with his own. Your fingers barely peek out from where his massive hand has them caged.

“Yeah well I have a pretty good karyu [teacher].” You send a wink even as heat rushes to your cheeks.

“Well I wouldn’t be a good teacher if I didn’t motivate you properly. So since you were so good for me today,” He snatches your waist and pulls you to a stop against him in one move. “I think you deserve a reward.” Those soft hands rest along his stomach, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles along the swirling pattern of his skin.

“Oh…I…is that so?” All essence of confident flirting flitters away before his eyes. Much like a fish out of water you gape for the proper words. It is far too easy to render you to such a state.

“Why are you soaking wet?” Lo’ak rounds the corner and jumps onto the woven walkway. While you put effort into breaking away and turning to the Sully boy with a smile, Ao’nung finds no reason to conceal his distaste for the untimely interruption.

“We were swimming.” You chirp, bouncing on the balls of your feet. Lo’ak’s unnatural dark brows knit together.

“You can’t swim. You’re terrified of the water. Remember last time I tried to get you in. It took hours and after five minutes you-”

An unrecognizable string of words fall from your lips to interrupt a story that Ao’nung was becoming quite interested in hearing. The consolation prize however is hearing your sharp tone shut the other male down. Whatever embarrassing memory Lo’ak was wanting to share is certainly enough to have you fidgeting beside him. “Ao’nung is teaching me how to swim.” You say, switching back to Na’vi.

“You are?” Lo’ak scoffs, finally turning to address him. His golden eyes dart between the two of you and it takes no genius to understand what memory the forest boy is recalling. In his youth Ao’nung had not been the most patient in teaching Lo’ak especially. Then again, he was also not in love with Lo’ak. He never earned the same softness that you bring out in him.

“It seems she has only been in need of the right karyu.” That smooth comment has Lo’ak eyes narrowed into slits. Sensing the tension between them you are quick to jump in.

“It was actually a lot of fun! I got to see a spade wing and a baby ilu, Lo.” Your voice is infused with so much energy, it’s clear you are attempting to compensate for the negative energy withering between Lo’ak and himself.

“And you went out in that? Tsmuke [sister], those are barely scraps.” He huffed, gesturing at your swimsuit. Something swells in Ao’nung’s chest. By the stars he is not about to let some forest boy crumble your confidence in wearing such a garment after all the work you’ve done to get this far. However, just as he is about to steer you behind him and give this skxawng [moron] a piece of his mind, you shrug and let out a little laugh.

“You wear nothing but a loincloth every day, Lo’ak. You’re not really in a position to judge.” Lo’ak opens his mouth to protest but you beat him to the punch. “Anyways, we’ve got to run. Bye!” You call out with a dramatic wave while tugging Ao’nung down the walkway. Sending a sly look over his shoulder he catches the way Lo’ak watches from afar with a pinched expression.

“Sorry about him.” You sigh.

“He does not approve.”

“No, it’s not like that. Lo’ak just thinks he has to play this protective brother role. It’s not personal.” His relationship with Lo’ak has come a long way since the Sullys first landed on this walkway. They’ve grown to put up with one another and occasionally be friendly, a necessity with the Omatikaya male courting his sister. That being said, he has never considered them close, nor would he be offended at finding out Lo’ak sees it the same way. You on the other hand don’t seem to understand this dynamic as you desperately try to reassure him.

“I swear he thinks just because he’s taller he can play big brother. He has concerns but that’s just part of his bravado act. I wouldn’t let it bother you.”

“It doesn’t.” Ao’nung shrugs. Although, it nags at him that Lo’ak has been sharing these concerns with you. If he has complaints they should be brought to him directly, not woven into your mind in hopes of creating doubt. Would that work? Have you already developed your own concerns? You’re a shy little thing at times but Ao’nung has always figured that to be part of how your personality reacts to his own. Surely, you must know the way he feels about you.

For all the ways you openly wear your heart on your sleeve, he still somehow can not be sure. Some things still remain a mystery when it comes to you.

“What is this?” You ask, once you're back inside his marui. He squints to make out one of the small figurines he had placed next to his hunting gear.

“A…cat?” He answers, eyes still squinting to see if he has passed your test correctly.

“No Ao’nung. I mean what is it doing here? What are all of them doing here?” The rest of the figurines are much like this cat one, although just like your bunny they all wear tiny clothes. Calico Critters you had called them the first time he asked. They serve no real purpose, just tiny things that stand there but the important thing is that you adore them.

So naturally he swiped them to bring back here.

“They don’t do anything, precious. Just exist I suppose.”

Your attempt at a stern expression is endearing, hand placed on your hips as your neck cranes to glare up at him.

“I’m starting to think you’re a kleptomaniac. You can’t keep stealing my stuff.”

“It is not stealing.” He shrugs.

“Oh really? Then what is it?”

“Relocating.” Ao’nung grins. “Now you can enjoy them here.”

Although there is not true ire in your questioning there is in fact real push back on the topic. You know why he has stolen your creepy figurines. Just as you know why he has strung some fabrics of pink and purple like a canopy along the ceiling of his marui. And placed a few of your extra blankets in his hammock. Whatever it takes to lure you back here night after night.

Notwithstanding all of his efforts, you continue to split your time between here and your place in the tawtute caves. Moving into his marui would be a natural next step in your relationship. Of course you are attached to all the silly trinkets you’ve acquired but he is not opposed to letting you litter his marui with them as long as you would call this place your home too.

Still, he remains patient. Many courting couples wait until properly mating before living together anyways. You must share the same morals. However, he sees no harm in enticing you all the same.

“I know what you’re doing.” Your voice smooths out into a sing-song tone. Ao’nung’s long hair falls over his right shoulder when he cocks his head to the side and feigns innocent curiosity. “You truly are ridiculous.” Fighting back a smile you begin arranging the figurines neatly into their separate families.

He has the decency to wait until they’re organized before sweeping you from the ground and falling back onto his hammock in one swift move. It draws a surprised chirp from your lips. A deep sigh echoes from his own chest even as you make weak protests about him giving you a heart attack.

“You know I still need to dry off.” You remind him but Ao’nung already has his head leaned back against the woven fabric. His right arm smoothly encircles around your middle to clamp you against his chest. You squirm and thrash to get out of his hold but it only takes an iota of his strength to keep you locked there. Even with his eyes closed in a show of feigned sleep, he can’t keep his lips from twitching into a pleased smirk.

That smirk crackles into a full laughter induced grin when your small hand swats at the side of his head. “Ao’nung,” You chide, a slight whine to your tone that has him stifling back his amusement.

Peeking his eyes open he finds your own strangely colored eyes glaring back at him. This little game of back and forth is one that you both enjoy frequently but he has a feeling that this time you may actually insist on being let up to get your towel. A sigh heaves from his chest as he shakes his head fondly. “There is no need, tawtute. I will keep you warm.” He says, reaching down to pull out a blanket and toss it over your small form.

Ao’nung is grateful when you don’t fight him further or demand a proper reason. He would give one but it’s unlikely you would understand. How could he explain that seeing you drenched like this does something to him? That your hair smelling of the sea’s salt water serves as a direct signal of you and his home coming together? Everything about you is unique, so new and foreign to him but there is something about witnessing those beautiful aspects of you slowly integrate into his life on the reef as well that lingers with him.

But you’re tawtute. Your sense of smell is greatly dampened in comparison. It’s a shame considering how many times he has scent marked you and you can’t even recognize it, let alone appreciate the possessive gesture. No, there isn’t an easy way to explain to you what he is feeling as he presses his nose against your crown. And even if there is, it’s doubtful that he would be the one to find it. Saying the right thing hasn’t always been his strong suit. It’s Tsireya that is good with the mushy sentiments.

And why waste the air with such jumbled nonsense when this moment already holds everything he needs? An ocean breeze that filters through the entrance of his marui to coast over your frame and carry your essence. A soft sway to the hammock, lulling him to relax. The satisfying weight of your warm body draped across his own.

And then there are your hands. Uncalloused pointer finger that delicately begins tracing over his shoulder tattoo. The soft glide of your finger greatly contrasts the pain he had endured to stain his skin with dark ink. You’ve never witnessed a Metkayina tattoo ceremony but your quiet fascination carries a certain reverence.

Swirling down further and further until he can feel the tickle along his bicep. Such a simple sensation, barely more than the brush of a breeze, yet it melts through him like liquid gold. The unconscious tense of his muscles release and already he can feel his breath deepen. He’s on the verge of succumbing to this silent lullaby when his ear twitches from being touched.

Ao’nung opens his eyes to find that you are carefully tucking a few strands or curly hair behind his pointed ear. Letting others touch his hair is not a normal practice for him. Traditionally he has relied on Tsireya exclusively to fashion it into a suitable hairstyle. There is something deeply…personal about it. It’s always been a fixation for you though.

And where his tail typically pikes onto alert and a growl blossoms in his chest at a foreign touch to his curls, somehow it all dissipates away when it comes to your strange tawtute hands.

Perhaps it's the way you marvel at him openly. You’ve always had a fascination for pretty things, a category that he was pleased to find himself a part of when your hasty confession came that first night. You’re often shy in speaking it, but your touch and stare always hold that same appreciation for his physique.

There’s more to it, though.

When you stare up at him like this, all bashfulness put to the side, it cuts him open. As if with one prolonged moment you’ve managed to strip him bare and peer into his very soul. It’s not his hair or intricate tattoos that you see. Not even the dozen of physical differences between you two that screams alien. You look at him.

Whatever you see in him.

If only he could read your thoughts. Finally untangle your tawtute customs and culture that have webbed you into a puzzle for him. Do you get that burning in your chest too? That one that feels like his heart has been clutched in an iron grip? Perhaps a grip from the same hands that now go back to tracing his tattoos.

With the smallest sigh your head drops back onto his chest. Sleep overcoming you is obvious by the now absence of touch along his right bicep. Ao’nung follows you into slumber mere minutes after when he has finally brought his heart rate back to a normal speed.

Your nap far exceeds his own. While Ao’nung had only dosed off for a few minutes but you are dead to the world for at least a half hour. Apparently that little swim had worn you to the bone. He would have to help you with endurance. It seems tawtute are not built for staying in the water long.

In fact you are so still as you sleep that Ao’nung finds himself placing a hand across your back to check that it still rises and falls with breath. When you do wake up it takes a minute for you to make out where you are with blurry vision. A sheepish look crosses your features upon realizing what position you’ve remained in. It’s followed by some silly notion that you laying on top of him is somehow considered rude or uncomfortable. He’ll never understand why you make these assertions.

Regardless, Ao’nung quickly wraps both arms around your waist when you attempt to move off of him. Dislodging yourself from his hold is an impossible task, a truth that you must come to recognize as you only give a feigned huff and try fighting back a smile.

“We can’t stay here forever you know.”

His pointer finger slowly drags over every vertebrae of your spine as he lets out a thoughtful hum. “Maybe not forever but I did promise a reward. Can’t have you skipping off before receiving what you are owed.”

The air seems to thicken with his words. A familiar tension is slowly wound as all of your sleepiness dissipates and goosebumps ripple across your skin. He can feel the evidence of his own excitement shifting beneath his tewng. Dirty thoughts of all the ways he could reward you sprout to the forefront of his mind. There is no end to these thoughts when it comes to you. Never before has someone woven themselves into his fantasies so incessantly. Even to the point where it can be a struggle to focus on his duties while you swim through his head.

Ao’nung pushes down those ideas for now, however. It’s only fair that you get to pick the reward after all that you’ve accomplished today. And then…if you need some ideas he would be more than anxious to supply.

“Have you decided what reward that will be?” He asks, forcing his hands to remain above the tempting curve of your ass. Just for now. You’re not always the most articulate when his wandering hands come into play.

Something flickers in your expression. Only a second before you are averting your gaze and gnawing on your bottom lip. Ao’nung’s exploring hand stills as curiosity lights within him. Propping himself onto one elbow he invades your space, forcing your eyes to meet his own.

“You do.” He smirks, reveling in the way you fight to squirm.

“Well, maybe. I don’t know. It’s just an idea so I’m not sure if-”

“Sevin [beautiful/pretty],” Ao’nung interrupts. “Tell me.” He coats his voice in a smooth purr, hoping to coax an answer from you, but his patience can only last so long. Whatever idea has sprouted in your brain must be obscene enough to prompt such hesitation in telling him. However Ao’nung has come to find that your meter for rating lewds acts is far more sensitive than his own. Regardless, you have his attention now. All of his previous ideas are cast to the side in favor of hearing what has you blushing.

“I was thinking that maybe…if it’s okay with you…that I could…suck you off?”

Ao’nung’s devilish smirk drops in an instant.

“For your reward you want to suck my cock?” The vulgar language has your cheeks deepening in color but you manage to nod.

Great Mother above, where did he find you?

It seems he must have done something right in his past life. He was ready to find satisfaction in your slick along his tongue and watching your writhe with pleasure but now you are sitting on top of him, the true depiction of bashfulness, asking to put his cock down your throat. His brain can’t really make sense of it, but he still stands by not asking questions when nice things come his way. And precious, you are by far the nicest thing he has ever had.

“Is that weird?”

“No,” comes his instant reply. Subconsciously he holds his breath. You’re an easy one to spook.

“Actually I was hoping you could teach me.”

This is starting to feel far too close to one of his favorite fantasies. So much so that Ao’nung takes note of every detail in the room to confirm that this could not be just some erotic dream. But this is real and a feral creature is stirring inside of him, gnawing at the bars of its enclosure.

“You’ve never…” Ao’nung trails off. Neither of you have talked much about past relationships, you especially. It’s common knowledge that the Metkayina prince has had his time sleeping around but he has no inkling of what you’ve experienced. The only hints he receives are the clear hesitation in your movements. Just enough to have him wondering if he is your first.

“I have. Just once.” That has his other arm propping him so he is now sitting up properly. “I mean I tried to once but I-I wasn’t very good at it. At least that’s what he said. Which make sense, I had no idea what I was doing so I couldn’t really be mad when he said we shouldn’t again-”

“Who?” A dark venom fills his chest. This is the first time you’ve discussed a past lover and he’s already not liking the light it's being presented in.

“Just a guy I used to date back with the Omatikaya.” So he’s not here. It would take crossing an ocean to kill him. Then again, he’s done more for less. Was it an Omatikaya male or did you fool around with one of the science tawtute? “It’s fine. He was right.”

His brain lags at the information. Caught between confusion and rage.

“And oh god now I’ve made it sound like the most unappealing thing possible. Great.”

Ao’nung barely hears your embarrassed groan. What man in their right mind has a beautiful creature like you on her knees for him only to criticise and turn her away? To be presented a gift and not only reject it but smash it into pieces, tear your confidence to shreds. So what if you’re inexperienced? A true man knows how to teach, takes joy in it. Joy that this creature has tossed out without regard.

It’s a perplexing tug of war between emotions. As a man himself he can’t help but find this person’s actions incredibly ridiculous. And yet, the idea of him enjoying your body has Ao’nung imagining ripping this faceless man to shreds. And a man he must not be. No true man does this.

To treat you in this way…there is no honor in such actions. The Omatikaya are different but they are still respectable Na’vi. It could not have been one of them, that would somehow feel worse. So a tawtute it must have been. A vrrtep [demon].

“It doesn’t have to be that. I think I might be making it a bit weird by sharing this.”

“This man said such things to you?” To your face? He looked you in the eyes as you fiddled with the hem of a lacy skirt and apprehension seated beneath long lashes and told you he didn’t enjoy your mouth around him? He watched those beautiful eyes hold back tears? Looked at perfection incarnate and spat in the face of it?

“Well yeah but..does it really matter?”

Does it matter? How could it not matter? Is that what he wanted you to think? That this was no big deal, convince you to suck it up and move on without complaint? That wouldn’t work on you. It’s only been a few weeks and even Ao’nung knows that words cut you deep. Anyone with a morsel of sense would know that. But this man, the same that somehow had the honor of sharing your bed, obviously had not taken a second to understand you.

Could he even please you if so? Had he even tried? Not in the way Ao’nung has, that much has been obvious from the way you still tremble after the orgasms he coaxes from you. It’s not a contest, for that he would require true competition. However a part of him, a part that directly conflicts his innate urge to pummel any man that has touched you, feels as if there should be competition. No one would ever compare to him, but your past experiences should have at least been enjoyable.

“Who is this?” His throat strains to hold back a growl.

“Um…I’m getting the feeling that it’s a bad idea to tell you.”

Smart thing that you are, you’re right. Correct if your goal is to prevent Ao’nung from ripping this anonymous man’s throat out. He can’t fathom why you would want to protect him but then again this is very in character for you. No matter what someone has done you always have a way of finding a soft spot for them. You care so much, sometimes too much.

And this man didn’t care for you at all.

Your precious heart is too big to tell him, but the Metkayina prince vows he will find out one way or another.

“He was just being honest.”

“Sevin,” A stern understone laces the pet name as he captures your chin. “He did not deserve you.”

Ao’nung weighs those words with every ounce of sincerity he can muster. And you feel it. It shows in the way your shoulders drop and expression melts into something new. Not a smile by any means but his words have touched you, they beckon you further into his arms. And then there is that cinch around his heart again.

And being the ridiculous little thing you are, you thank him. As if telling the truth is ever a favor. You are utterly nonsensical at times. Utterly nonsensical and utterly his.

“What he deserves is a spear through the chest.”

“Okay big guy, calm down.” You say, patting his chest while trying to hide your creeping amusement. You think he’s joking. How cute.

“Are you asking me to teach you because that’s what you want or because you think this is what I want?” Ao’nung hates to ask, to potentially ruin this opportunity for himself, but it’s needed. He won’t be like that pathetic creature of a lover you once had. Avoiding that starts with making sure you aren’t simply doing this for his benefit, to prove yourself in a way that he has never and will never ask you to.

“Do you want it?”

His hairless brows drop as he gives you a deadpan look. “Precious, you already know that I do.” Want it more than you can even fathom. “But that’s not what I asked you.”

There is a beat of hesitation, you poor bottom lip already torn up from your gnawing. “I want to feel like I know what I’m doing. I want to make you feel good in the same way you do me.”

“You already do.” There is still much left for the two of you to explore, so much more he can’t wait to do with you but there is no rush. You’ve brought him to the heights of pleasure no one else has before.

“I know but…still. And it’s not the only reason why. I’m curious.” Your head tilts in a subtle way to create a curtain out of your hair and hide that sheepish look. “You’re just so different and I…I’m interested.”

Different.

Interested.

Two trails of thoughts fighting for attention. Different from your past lover. Different because he is Metkayina or different because he is a Na’vi. Perhaps it shouldn’t matter but it’s difficult to stamp down that curiosity.

However, Ao’nung focuses on the latter. The same that has his ears perking with his own interest and groin suddenly becoming very aware of your weight situated there.

A low hum of appreciation rumbles in his chest as he slowly situates your further onto his lap. His turquoise cheek brushes against your jaw before he presses a slow kiss there. “My curious sevin, hm?” You suck in a breath when his sharp teeth just barely nip at your earlobe.

“Yes.” You whisper but those small hands are already smoothing over his shoulders, one even slinking to the nape of his neck.

“You know I am always happy to sate your curiosity, precious.”

That abused bottom lip is finally released when he captures you in a kiss. Despite the growing anticipation, Ao’nung leads this kiss in a pace that is anything but rushed. It’s languid. Relaxed. Sensual. And when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss you eagerly respond in kind.

The ties of your bikini are much simpler than the average Metkayina top and yet it’s difficult to concentrate on undoing them when his tongue is swirling around yours and your hands have already taken real estate lodged deep in his hair. Fingers fumbling for a moment to undo your top he can’t fathom at which point he had let you get such a tight hold on him. Those curious hands hold more power than he would dare to let you know.

The skimpy piece of fabric finally sags, only held up by being sandwiched between his chest and yours.

“This is what you want?” Ao’nung asks again, only departing from your lips for a second.

“Yes.” He pulls back when you eagerly chase after him for more.

“Promise me.” He demands.

“I promise.”

No words have tasted sweeter against his lips. So Ao’nung rewards your sweet behavior with a slow beckon of his tongue. Skillfully exploring and stroking your own until a groan has your lips parting wider for him. His right hand cups the back of your head, easily encompassing the width of your skull in his hold. Anything to keep you there, to continue breathing in your essence until it is seared down his throat.

Your breath is erratic when he pulls away. Even more so when he whispers a simple, “good girl.” There is always a visceral reaction that comes from that short phrase. An ease of tension in your muscles, a breathy sigh that directly trails to a shiver down your spine. It’s become one of his favorite coined phrases for that reaction exactly. Praise has a way of slipping you into a new headspace, one where worry dissipates and you finally allow him to worship you in the way you deserve.

Ao’nung veers back just enough to let your top fall before pulling you close again. Your breasts press against his chest, those tender nubs already prickling against his skin. So responsive and he’s hardly done anything to you yet.

It’s your turn to fumble with the ties when you attempt to undo his tewng. Ao’nung smoothly shifts onto his knees but that doesn’t greatly reduce your struggle when it comes to unwinding the ties from his tail. He’s partly to blame. The second you graze the base of his tail it reacts with a strong swish. Without one of your own, it must be difficult for you to comprehend the unique sensitivity of his tail. You sense there is something, though, hands already retreating shyly.

“What is wrong?” He murmurs against your temple.

“Nothing.”

It’s less than convincing, even more so when you grapple to meet his gaze. “No need to be shy, precious.”

“I just…don’t want to hurt you.”

It’s tempting to roll his eyes, a tawtute habit you’ve somehow managed to ingrain in him. Instead, he grasps your tiny hand carefully in his own and begins pushing it back towards his tail. “Just as you are mine, paskalin, I am yours.” Ao’nung fights back a shiver when you just barely brush the base of the wide appendage. “Which means I am yours to explore. Yours to enjoy.”

“Take advantage of it.” Something flickers in your countenance at his words. Although still slow and careful in actions a spark of intrigue ignites. He has been the main instigator in your interactions, far more bold in letting his desire for you show. And while Ao’nung revels in always having the upper hand it’s important that you understand the joy that comes from it too. To let you wander and sate your curiosities without restraint. Finally allow yourself the freedom from silly tawtute concerns that plague you.

Because he is yours.

He has been yours since the first time he saw you land at their shores with ribbons in your hair wearing that ridiculously short yellow dress. Even he did not know that day how far gone he already was.

Either way, you two have obviously been crafted for one another. And Ao’nung will be damned before he lets pointless Sky People customs get in the way of you fully enjoying that bond. To finally taste the ecstasy that comes with owning someone, body and soul.

Finally his tewng falls away and Ao’nung helps you dispose of it to the side. As he works on the ties of your bottoms now a kernel of courage slowly sprouts within your actions. Ao’nung smirks against the crook of your neck when he feels the traces of fingertips along his pecs before dragging over the lines of his abdomen.

As tempting as it is to tease you for the interest, Ao’nung spares you his knowing looks and instead encourages the action by placing sweet kisses along your throat. With very little effort he ripens an old mark he had left there last week, licking over the now beautiful contrast of color in delight. It seems to spur something within you as well, small kisses now running over his collarbones and down his chest.

The touch is featherlight, enough to have him almost squirming at how it tickles him. However, you are already letting your touch travel south. Ao’nung graciously aids this endeavor, sliding you off of his lap, flinging your bottoms to the side and laying down on his back with spread legs. For a moment he considers standing up and letting you kneel for a better access but it feels like a risk.

You are just barely mustering up enough confidence to explore. A small thing like you is easy to startle, standing above you could be too intimidating. And as much as he loves watching your nerves paint a beautiful blush over those cheeks, today it’s in his best interest to tread carefully.

Ao’nung holds back a jerk reaction when your hand wraps around the base of his cock. Despite your demure nature this activity has become one very familiar to you. It’s been a safe substitute for your little pussy as you work your way up there. It’s hard not to think about how you will stretch around his thick cock someday, how little whines will bubble up your throat without reprieve and he will finally know what it means to be inside of you.

But you are small. And fragile.

It’s easier to push those thoughts aside in order to maintain his patience.

You only stroke him a few times, hand barely able to wrap fully around him. And then without any warning, there is a loss of touch and you are crawling up his chest again. Ao’nung pulls back and raises a brow when your right hand slinks to the back of his head. Perhaps you are wanton for another kiss but then your lips never descend to his. Instead there is a shift in his hair before the rest of his long locks are falling freely and you are holding the band that originally had it tied into a bun.

This is a common preference of yours, seeing his hair unrestrained. However, today you don’t just fling the band to the side and become engrossed in admiring the curls. That large band is fitted around your wrist before you are bending back to gather your own hair. The view is more than preferable, back curving and chest opened up for his heated gaze. All of a sudden he can’t remember what his objections to his own hair were. Not when his teeth are drawing blood from his lip just imagining how perfectly they would sink into your right breast. Just above the nipple where no one but him would get to admire such a beautiful mark.

You tie your hair back into a ponytail, even giving its roots a good tug for measure. You mean business.

“Who is stealing whose stuff now?” Ao’nung jests.

“I don’t see you complaining.” Your nose scrunches at him in a teasing manner. It wipes away when his warm hands encompass your hips, kneading the flesh sensually. His left hand travels up your stomach and past your ribcage before brushing one nipple not so innocently.

“I’m very generous when it comes to you, precious.” You won’t understand how true those words are, especially when you’re too busy gasping at the harsh tug he gives your right nipple.

Saliva gathers along his tongue as he flicks the other hardened nub. Those pretty little tits always feel good in his mouth. So malleable. Your cries always responsive. If it weren’t for the clear ache between his legs the Metkayina prince would have you flipped onto your back and mouth tormenting those perfect breasts until you would beg for him to stop by now.

But that’s not the reward he promised you, he reminds himself as you are released and slink back down between his thighs. Apprehension settles in your shoulders again when you are face to face with his twitching cock. Fisting the bottom you take a deep breath to steady yourself.

“Paskalin,” He calls lowly. “There is no rush.”

Everything in his body screams otherwise, but Ao’nung maintains a cool composure. You’re already nervous. Already scarred from a past bad experience. It’s his job to do everything in his power to ease that burden. Even when that means torturing himself with the perfect image of you nestled between his thighs all while desperately aching for your touch.

“Yeah but you’re-”

“I am fine. It’s your reward, sevin. Do what feels natural to you.”

What feels natural to you is far more than what he is ready for. Plush lips press against his hip bone, trailing down into open mouthed kisses along his thigh. And then there are your teeth. Those silly blunt teeth that struggle to make an indent in his flesh but your attempt is stimulating all the same. A soft tongue and small teeth encompassed with those perfectly kissable lips work to suck and bite a new color along his upper right thigh.

You’re trying to mark him.

Claim him as he has claimed you so many times.

It’s concerning how fast it frays as his self control, awakening that primal beast within him. His own nails sink into the root of his messy hair while his other hand resting at the back of your head, carefully ensuring to cup you gently not push. When a muscle in his thick thigh flexes that silky tongue chases the line it makes.

The entire endeavor has his body awakening with anticipation, fighting the urge to pin you down and take what he wants now. It is ridiculous how such a simple act from his tawtute has him twitching with need but he loves seeing you this way. Letting your unbridled desire show, using his body the way that has always been your right.

When you pull back, Ao’nung’s neck cranes to see the damage. And damage you can barely call it as there is the smallest purple spot blooming along his upper thigh. Tiny indents of teeth around it.

It is nowhere near the possessive carnage of his own marks upon your lighter skin, in fact the change in color is hardly a contrast. But it’s his. Your adorable attempt at marking your territory is utterly his to treasure. His precious tawtute leaving the sweetest of gifts.

“So pretty, paskalin.” He purrs, finger stroking through your scalp as he battles the urge to stick his tongue down your throat again. The pad of your thumb brushes over the mark, gaze just barely peeking up at him beneath your long lashes.

His body can’t fight a jerk this time when you unexpectedly grab the base of his cock again. A reassuring smile is quickly plastered on his face when you look up at him in concern. The size of him is borderline comical in your hand. Cock practically the length of your forearm, it’s daunting to imagine what a tight fit it will be in your mouth. Equally erotic and nerve wracking to think of those sweet lips stretching around him.

“Promise you’ll help me do it right?” You ask gently, as if you aren’t simultaneously stroking his twitching cock in one hand, precum already drizzling down between your fingers.

“I promise. Stop worrying.” Ao’nung prays you don’t hear the waver in his voice. How unfair it is to expect him to answer your questions when it’s taking everything within him not to fuck up into your fist. “Just start with your tongue, precious. Let yourself taste.”

He had meant for you to explore slowly, maybe start from the bottom and work your way up but it’s clear you’re out to kill him because instead your pink tongue immediately flicks at the head of his cock, right over the slit where a drop of precum rests.

It’s a pure shot of electricity.

And that’s when Ao’nung knows…he is in trouble.

How did he not calculate for this? This is by far not the first time he has had a beautiful woman’s mouth running along him, but they had all been Metkayina women before you. Their tongues had a rougher texture, something enjoyable but entirely different to the silk-like surface of your own. It’s so soft it almost tickles.

He’s known this from the first time you kissed but somehow that never translated into how it would feel against his most sensitive parts.

Mercy is not afforded to him. Like the good numeyu you are, his instructions are taken to heart as your tongue lathers along every inch of him. Sometimes shorter flicks of your tongue while others long strokes that travel from the base to tip. You are duteous in your task. Even going as far as running over his heavy balls hanging beneath.

Great Mother above, he was not built to contain himself like this.

Blown out pupils look up at him when you pull back. It’s impossible to miss the seated hunger in your gaze, but first and foremost you wait for him to guide you. There is a drop of his arousal resting at the corner of your lips innocently, already starting to glow as eclipse has set outside.

Without thinking, Ao’nung finds his own thumb pressing at the dot to slip it back inside your mouth. The digit is accepted without question. Curiosity getting the better of him now, the prince presses his thumb down on your tongue.

Obediently your jaw slacks and lips separate. The pad of his thumb drags over your silky tongue as his other fingers curl beneath your chin. Saliva coats the digit before Ao’nung softly presses your jaw closed. “Suck,” He instructs.

Unlike with swimming you don’t question his methods. You suck hard enough to hollow your cheeks, presenting the perfect tools to imagine what it will feel like around his cock. “There you go. Breath through your nose, sevin.”

You take every direction graciously, following each to a tee. By the time he pulls his thumb out with a pronounced pop sound, it has a line of saliva still connecting it to your lips. He can’t help himself. Ao’nung slides that wet thumb down between your legs and lets it brush over your clit. A choked sound echoes from your throat, clasping his shoulder as he reaches further down to confirm his suspicions.

You are absolutely drenched.

“I-I want to try,” your breathy voice rushes out.

Biting back a moan, Ao’nung kisses your cheek before whispering, “Do as you wish.”

With heavy lidded eyes, he lays back and watches you settle between his thighs again. There is less urgency this time, desire overriding your apprehension. Less timid now, you take his cock in hand and start to fit your lips around the head. The tip is barely past your lips before you are emulating the ministrations he had taught you on his thumb. Cheeks hollowed and tongue running wild, you suck the very life out of him.

“Precious precious,” Ao’nung gasps out, pulling your head off of him. “Not yet, sweetheart. Not yet.”

His body thrums from the aftershock. Too much all at once. “Let’s focus on getting me in that pretty mouth first, hm?”

“Sorry,” You mumble, already pulling back but Ao’nung pushes your head forward again.

“Don’t apologize, sevin. You are being so good for me.” Wrapped in his praise you lower down around him slower this time.

Just fitting the head inside is already a mouthful, something he tries to keep in mind as his hips are begging to buck up into your sweet cavern. It feels like being wrapped in satin. That perfectly hot wet cocoon of your mouth encircling his cock as if it was made for him. Not even halfway down and he can just barely feel the back of your throat.

Ao’nung keeps you positioned there, not wanting to push you too far yet. He makes the mistake of looking down, however, and that image alone has his balls drawing up, dangerously close to the edge. Your pink lips stretched to their limit, such a beautiful contrast to sparkling eyes that peek up at him for approval. An absolute masterpiece.

A shudder ripples forward when you suddenly pull off of him. “It won’t fit,” you pout.

As if the situation isn’t already enough, those deceptively sweet words have the filthiest of fantasies running through his head.

“That’s alright. You can use your hand for the rest.” He prompts.

The advice helps when you lower down again, fisting what you can of the rest with your hand but even then it won’t cover all of him. “Now you can try your tongue, sevin. Just like I taught you.”

But the way your tongue incidentally rides the vein on the underside of his cock is far more than what he taught you. It’s only his reaction that has you less oblivious to its sensitivities. Ao’nung lungs suck in air sharply, the concave of his stomach accenting the x shape of his ribs.

“Am I hurting you?” You ask, abruptly rearing off of him. Those beautiful features are painted with such genuine concern Ao’nung is caught between laughing at your innocence and growling in need. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean-”

“You are so far from hurting me, precious.” Voice thickening with something carnal, Ao’nung pins you with ocean blue eyes. “That pretty mouth feels so good around me. Let me feel it again, paskalin.”

The words strike you hard, plummeting you into a daze-like state as you softly follow the push of his hand. Whatever worries you have dissipate, too focused on getting him to gasp like that again. And it turns out such filthy words are exactly what you need when he is nestled in your heat, wide eyes crinkling with glee.

“There we go. Now suck, sweetheart.”

It takes little encouragement for your compliance. Even the small directions of how hard to suck, where to lap your tongue is ardently followed. Less experienced you may be but your obedience makes up for it ten fold. And then you are following him down into the thick haze of desire. Nostrils flaring, your head starts lowering down to take him deeper.

Despite his flaring desire to watch you choke on him, Ao’nung hesitates. You’re fragile. This isn’t like the other women he has been intimate with. Throwing you around, using you too harshly, can come with consequences. Push too hard and he may just break you, making this an experience you never wish to repeat.

But then his cerulean eyes catch a glimpse of your thighs, the way they squeeze together. That tantalizing essence is thick in the air, even more so when you begin rutting against the fabric like an animal in heat. There is still a slyness to your movements that tell him you’re trying not to get caught, but it’s too late.

You are enjoying this just as much as him, big wide eyes begging for more.

And so more you will get.

“You want my cock down your throat. Don’t you, sweetheart?”

The hum you give in response not only confirms his theories but lights every pleasure center in his brain. A growl rumbles in his chest. “Of course you do, because you’re a good fucking girl, aren’t you?”

Another whine around him and Ao’nung’s toes are curling against the hammock. He fists the base of your ponytail and both of your hands position themselves at his hips, blunt nails digging in. “Then do as I say, sevin. Relax that throat and let me in.”

The first time he slinks past the back of your throat, your gag reflex kicks in dramatically. Immediately he pulls out to allow you a ragged breath but before he can ask if you’re alright, your hands are clawing at his hips and trying to pull him back in. Ao’nung doesn’t need to be told twice.

The pattern continues. His hips draw forward a little more each time until the choking seems to be too much and Ao’nung draws back to allow you air. Each time he is rewarded with the view of your sinfully debauched state. Lips ruby red, a mixture of his precum and saliva glossing over them, and blown out pupils lazily staring up at him.

You’re a quick learner. It’s easy to fall into a rhythm of this pattern. It comes to a point where you are efficient in taking a deep breath before he is spearing down your throat again. Until it can be done faster and faster. Until he has almost three quarters of his length encompassed and able to thrust a couple times before needing to pull back.

“Fuck, precious!” He groans, feet already planting against the hammock’s surface. “My perfect little cocksucker.”

Those words spurs a new energy through you. When he comes to pop out after a couple thrusts, you snag his hip and give him a look. A silent communication that tells him all he needs to know. And by Eywa, it could not come at a better time. He is hanging just over the edge of release. It’s unclear how much longer he can keep that beast inside of him caged.

So when you pull back for one last breath, his grip tightens on your hair and Ao’nung hips finally snap up with vigor. You take it like a champ, choking and drooling but eagerly pushing him to fuck down your throat. Those little ruts against the hammock becoming even more desperate with every growled moan he releases.

“So fucking perfect.” He growls out between clenched teeth. The last tangible sound before his hips are ricketting sporadically and his balls are drawing up against him. Ao’nung finishes with his head thrown back. A position that only lasts for a moment as he quickly remembers to look down and watch the way you choke around him. He doesn’t fight it when you pull back and the rest of his spend lands across your jaw and collarbones.

Now caught in his own daze, the prince hazily savors the masterpiece before him. Tears glossing over your eyes, abused lips parted, and his bioluminescent cum painting your satin like skin. If only there was a way to keep this image tucked away in his pocket forever.

Coming down from his high, Ao’nung feels a tinge of guilt when he surveys your state. That is, until he catches another whiff of your arousal and watches a dopey grin trace your lips. For the first time in perhaps forever, he finds himself speechless.

That grin dampens down in the silence, however. Chest still heaving for air you nervously ask, “Was it…good?”

Nothing more than a raspy whisper but your concern is pure.

Ao’nung is baffled. Wholly bewildered at how you can sit there with his sperm still dripping down your breasts and sincerely ask him such a question.

He’s going to kill that pathetic man, that is for certain. Rip apart the one person that ever dared to make you question such a thing. The man that made you feel like anything less than a goddess.

“Good?” He asks, slowly rising to sit up. You bite your bottom lip. “Oh precious, you aren’t good.” Ao’nung’s thick tail swerves behind him when he settles onto his knees, hands clasping your hips. “You are addicting. My perfect unraveling.”

If he wasn’t so impatient he would savor the way your breath catches and eyes sparkle in delight. But he only sees it for a second before you are manhandled onto your back with a squeak and he is bullying his head between your squishy thighs.

“Spread those pretty legs, tawtute. It’s my turn to taste.”

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